Shouts and the sharp whistle of a steam train woke Harry from his light doze. He sleepily blinked his lids open, only to flinch as he found himself staring into a pair of wide, green eyes that were identical to his own. After a moment, he shook his head in disgust.

A reflection, only a reflection.

Harry sighed and pressed his face against the glass, staring out onto the well-crowded platform filled with excited children and anxious mothers. From within the compartment, the noise was somewhat muted, but it was still close to a cacophony. There were plenty of families that Harry recognised, but none that recognised him; their eyes slid over him as if he did not exist.

That was just fine with Harry.

Despite the rapidly filling train, no one had entered Harry’s compartment. After all, what student in their right mind would want to go into a compartment with a fourteen year old boy no one’s seen before? Who knows, he could be dangerous! Harry chuckled wryly and practised a scowl on a group of second years hanging outside the door. They squeaked and ran as fast as their legs would carry them.

Harry chuckled again. Not being ‘Harry Potter’ was blissful. He had already decided to find his friends later and fill them in during the journey, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy these few minutes of complete anonymity.

With a jolt and a hiss of steam, the train started moving, banging Harry’s unprepared head against the window. He cursed and rubbed the sore spot, looking up just in time to see the compartment door slide open.

“Excuse me, but have you seen a boy with messy hair and round glasses? He’s my friend and I can’t find him anywhere.”

Quickly turning back to face the window, Harry broke into a huge grin upon hearing Hermione’s bossy tones echoing from the doorway. Until now, he hadn’t realised how terribly he’d missed her.

Turning back, he took in her familiar form; straight-backed, hands on hips, and a determined expression. She also seemed to have grown a couple of inches over the summer.

Harry craned his neck, careful to obscure his face with his newly long hair, and caught sight of a nervous Ron shuffling anxiously behind her – honestly, doesn’t he ever stop growing? – and there beside him was Neville, holding Trevor in a stranglehold. Bringing up the rear, Ginny looked just as worried as her brother, but at the same time, very determined.

Harry’s stomach swooped. He really had missed them all, and the fact that they were worried about him meant more than he could say, but suddenly he couldn’t resist the urge to have a little fun with them before he re-introduced himself.

Putting on his most polite expression, he turned to face them for the first time. “No, I haven’t seen anyone like that around.” Well, it’s true after all! “But you’re welcome to share my compartment if you like. Your friend’s bound to come looking for you eventually.”

Despite his purposeful deception, Harry was shocked at how much like his lost brother he sounded. Everything, from the pitch of his voice, to its inflection almost made him glance around himself just in case. At times, Harry was quite annoyed with his new voice. It was a reminder of things he would rather not think about. Besides, on a more superficial level, his old voice had just been beginning to drop; now he was back to square one again!

Hermione bit her lip and glanced at her companions, before finally nodding and accepting Harry’s invitation.

“Hello, I’m Hermione Granger,” she said clearly, sitting down across from Harry and sticking her hand right in front of his nose. “I haven’t seen you before; you must be new here. Are you coming into our year? We’ll be Fourth Years this year.”

“Yes,” an amused smiled curled Harry’s lips, “yes, I am. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hermione said with a smile and Harry almost laughed when she didn’t immediately put two and two together. “We haven’t had any new students that aren’t First Years before, but I’ve read about it happening in ‘Hogwarts: A History.’ Have you read that book?”

It occurred to Harry that Hermione didn’t handle meeting new people well. She had covered up her nervousness with questions and her insatiable thirst to learn, but the apprehension was still present in her pushy tone. It was probably why she’d found it so hard to make friends during her first year at Hogwarts. Harry glanced at the other three in the room; they were all watching him warily and only Ginny had had the guts to sit down beside him. Now that certainly made a difference from her usual embarrassment.

He quickly diverted his attention back to Hermione when he realised he’d been silent for too long.

“No, I haven’t read it, but a good friend of mine keeps telling me I should.” This is getting weird. I’m lying while telling the complete truth! It must be Snape’s fault.

Hermione nodded vigorously. “You really should. It’s fascinating!”

She was going to say more, but someone else cut in.

“Hermione, be careful not to scare him too much. I’m Ron, Ron Weasley.”

Harry turned to smile at Ron, who also extended a hand, apparently over his momentary shyness. Harry reached out his own, momentarily shocked at how dwarfed his hand was by Ron’s.

“You’d better be careful with this one.” He jerked his head at Hermione. “Unless you watch it, she’s going to go off into an hour-long lecture about the latest book she’s been reading.”

Hermione huffed and tried to smack Ron on the arm, but he dodged out of reach. Harry’s smile widened as he felt the familiar rhythms of school settle around him. It was such a relief to be going back to Hogwarts. Spending the summer with Snape had really opened his eyes to how great the holiday could be, but he still found it hard to completely relax around the man. It was easy to throw himself into his new relationship with his father when he was depending on it to distract him from his guilt over Shadow, but it was another thing entirely to consider it on its own.

Had Snape’s discovery of their true relationship not come at the cost of losing Shadow, Harry was willing to admit he would have avoided the man like the Plague. But if Shadow had been there, Harry might have had the confidence to talk to Snape anyway... Harry shook his head. It was all so confusing. How did my entire life turn upside down, while somehow managing to remain the same? Now that I’m on my way back to Hogwarts, it’s as if nothing happened at all... apart from the fact that none of my friends seem to recognise me.

It was because of this thought that Harry decided to end the deception; he’d had his fun, but he wanted his friends back. Besides, Neville was starting to squint oddly at his forehead.

“So,” Harry flexed his fingers casually before pushing the hair away from his brow, revealing his scar to the world, “speaking of the new term; can I have my presents yet?”

There was complete and utter silence, which was only broken by the quiet croak and flop of Trevor escaping Neville’s grip. Then...

“HARRY!”

He suddenly found himself being hugged tightly by Hermione; Ron was staring, gobsmacked, while his face was slowly morphing into a delighted grin; Neville was crawling around on the floor, looking for Trevor, while every once in a while popping his head up and smiling at Harry while muttering “I knew it. I knew it!”; and Ginny had flushed bright red, her shy smile lighting up her entire face.

Harry both grinned and hugged back, overwhelmed by the fact that he was finally back in a world he understood; back where he belonged.

“Wait a minute.” Harry glanced up, surprised by Ron’s sudden frown. “How do we know it’s really him?” He jerked his thumb at Harry. “After all, the Ministry was attacked by Death Eaters. How do we know this isn’t a hoax?”

Hermione suddenly gave Harry a horrified look and pulled her arms from around him as though scalded. She swiftly retreated to the other side of the small space, looking like she wanted to duck behind Ron. Harry slowly realised that both Neville and Ginny had their wands trained on him.

He swallowed and licked his suddenly dry lips as his magical core flared instinctively in reaction to the perceived threat. “It is me,” he said quietly, pulling a strand of power out from his core and infusing into his skin for emergency protection. It didn’t feel as strong as he thought it should.

“Err, in the Shrieking Shack at the end of last term...” He trailed off, abruptly realising that Neville and Ginny hadn’t been there. Still, it was the best example he could come up with. He carried on, lowering his voice so the other two couldn’t hear, “Ron; you, Hermione and I simultaneously cast Expelliarmus and knocked Snape out. You had a broken leg because of Padfoot.”

He didn’t dare say anymore, even though Ginny and Neville didn’t seem to have heard, and were looking miffed because of it. Thankfully, it was enough for Ron and Hermione; their grins had returned and they were looking at him with barely concealed relief.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione told the other two, cheerfully. “It’s him; it’s just the things he was saying were... erm... personal.”

Neville still looked put out, but Ginny just looked relieved; until she started blushing again, of course. Cheeks flaming, she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek before squeaking something about seeing her friends and rushing out.

Surprised by her bravery, Harry couldn’t think of anything to say for several minutes, neither, he realised, could anyone else. He smiled; Ginny was sweet and he couldn’t help feel protective of her, but he did hope her crush on him wouldn’t get too out of hand in the coming term. After all, his life had already been pulled inside out as it was.

“Umm, guys... There’s something I need to tell you.” One by one, his friends pulled themselves out of their shocked surprise.

“Go on, Harry,” Hermione prompted gently.

“Well, umm.” Harry jumped up and climbed onto the seat, reaching for his trunk and whispering, “Aconite,” at it. The lock clicked and the lid opened a little way. Harry hesitated for a brief second. Should I really be showing them this? After all, it isn’t really mine. Strengthening his resolve, he reached in and pulled out a large, leather-bound book.

Agony rippled through his chest as he stared down at the dark brown leather cover. He couldn’t help but remember that the last time that he’d read this book, Shadow had been with him, urging him to read on and exclaiming in awe over its contents.

Now Shadow was gone and Harry was forcing himself to blink back the sudden tears clouding his vision. This was the reason he hadn’t looked at it too closely when he’d sneaked it out of Snape’s library for the second time. He’d been very glad that Snape hadn’t caught him scrambling about on the shelves that time around.

But now his friends were waiting and Harry didn’t want to put this conversation off any longer than necessary. He pushed his grief down deep; deep enough that it wouldn’t be able to affect him anymore, he hoped. What you can’t feel won’t hurt you, will it?

Sighing, he slowly climbed down from the carriage’s seat and turned to face his friends, the Inheritance book of the Prince line held tightly in his hands.

oooOOOooo

Severus could not believe it; it was inconceivable. The audacity of the action was completely at odds with how he thought his new son would act. In fact, an act of this nature was more suited to James Potter’s spawn than an heir to the line of Prince.

He ground his teeth and cursed himself for being so soft on the boy during the summer; obviously he’d become complacent in not enforcing discipline while his son had been grieving. The boy had probably been waiting for the first opportunity of Severus’ attention being divided before pulling this arrogant, selfish stunt.

Severus slammed the old box of ebony wood closed and Levitated it back onto its shelf. He almost couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that Harry had stolen one of his possessions, but the evidence of the empty box was glaring him in the face. Only he and Harry had had access to the library for the whole summer and Severus hadn’t opened that box for twenty-five years.

His teeth began to protest the harsh treatment but he didn’t relax his jaw. That child was going to pay. No matter how he had been treated in his previous family – if you could call it that – no matter who he had lost in the past month, Harry had to learn that he did not steal.

It’s not like I wouldn’t have given it to him if he’d asked me to! Severus outraged thoughts were twisting through his head, rather like his newly released magic was twisting in his chest. It’s as much part of his heritage as it is mine; I would have showed him if he’d had the inclination to behave like the human he is rather than an uneducated savage. No, worse than a savage: a deceitful little liar.

Severus winced at his own thoughts. Becoming a spy and being forced to lie about your every move made other people’s deception a sore spot. It made you think back over your past actions and wonder how deep other people’s lies were compared to yours.

But this was Harry.

He took a deep breath. Now was not the time to let rage have precedence. The last time he had let his temper get the better of him concerning the boy, he had traumatised him. Now was the time to think over his actions and Harry’s for what they might have been over the summer. Now was the time to think carefully about how to show Harry what he had done wrong like a real parent would.

Conjuring a glass of Merlot, Severus sat down on the library’s couch, pondering briefly that if the child’s intentions had been to turn him to alcohol, then that plan was certainly succeeding.

All things considered, Shadow was feeling quite pleased with himself.

Well, at least, he was trying to feel quite pleased with himself.

Trying.

That was all that his life seemed to be centred around nowadays. Trying not to feel lonely, trying not to miss Harry; trying not to be angry at Dumbledore for accidently exiling him. But most of all, he was trying not to lose his mind in this endless, white monotony.

However, by chance, he had recently been able to keep the tediousness at bay by absorbing himself in a new game.

Shadow had found a pebble.

It was amazing how such a little thing could mean so much after weeks of absolute nothingness; it alone was enough to give Shadow the smallest bit of hope that he wasn’t the only real thing left in this strange, endless void.

It gave him something new to think about. After all, there were only so many times that you could hum through every song you’d ever heard – which was quite a few for someone who remembered everything – before you got a sore throat. Likewise, there was only so much time you could spend immersed in your own thoughts without starting to feel the giddy sense of unreality and the madness that followed.

Pulling himself back to the present, he took a deep breath, crouched down low and, for what must have been the twelfth time already, skipped the pebble as hard as he could across the uneven floor. Granted, due to his rather dubious skill, the pebble ended up rolling more than skipping, but the motion still had the desired effect.

Shadow waited until it was almost out of his sight through the flowing mists before surging forward and sprinting after it.

For the briefest second, he thought he’d lost it, but he caught a flicker of movement through the haze covering the ground and managed to pounce on the still-rolling stone like a hound on a rabbit. Grinning victoriously, he waved it above his head in triumph... before slowly realising what an absolute moron he must look like.

Well it’s not like there’s anyone around to see me. He scowled at the pebble and held it right in front of his nose. Harry would probably laugh himself silly if he could see me now... What a fool I have become!

In that moment, Shadow almost tossed the small stone away, so it could tumble forever through the voracious mists, which sometimes seemed almost hungry enough to devour his soul...

Biting back a strangled choke, Shadow shoved the stone in his trouser pocket and pinched the top closed with trembling fingers. There was no way he’d wish a fate like that on anyone else. Moreover, the stone was proof that not everything from the real world had disappeared with the windows. Maybe there was something else out there; someone else out there. Shadow could only hope and wish.

The uneasiness made his legs tremble, and he sat down abruptly in an effort to stop the shaking. Then, finding no reason to get up again, he slowly lay down and curled onto his side, wondering if it would matter if he never got up again.

 Would blackness have been better than this incessant whiteness? It burns my eyes and makes me feel like I want to suffocate. In the dark I would feel safe – like Harry did when he was in his cupboard, or rather... like I did when I was Harry. Huh. Shadow by name, shadow by nature.

He sighed, closed his eyes and gave a silent blessing for the stillness on the inside of his lids. Some of the terrible white still managed to shine through, stopping the darkness in his head from becoming completely black, but it was still a welcome change from the faint dizziness that was his constant companion these days.

Blackness wouldn’t make me feel so lost, nor so terribly, terribly alone. Alone, alone, alone; it’s all I can think about now. Was I wrong to say no to the blackness of death? The swirling of the air here makes me feel so disorientated... as though with every passing minute I am getting myself even more lost than I was before.

He shivered and rubbed his arms in an attempt to stop the chills that had nothing to do with being cold.

Blowing out a breath, Shadow opened his eyes and tried for the millionth time to think of what Harry would say to cheer him up.

Buck up, Shadow. You’re alive, I’m alive; we’ll be OK. Don’t worry, I’m coming for you.

Each variation of reassurance sounded weak and forced in Shadow’s own head, but it still managed to lift his spirits a little. I’m going to be OK... Harry’d probably yell at me for almost giving up. He always was very protective of me.

With a reluctant smile tugging at his lips, Shadow clambered to his feet and started walking again, determined to give pretending to be cheerful and optimistic another chance. Who knows? Today a pebble, tomorrow... we’ll see.

Stumbling over another change in terrain – the ground was so confusing here: sometimes completely smooth, sometimes so uneven he almost twisted his ankle – he tried to count up all the good things there were present in this particular existence.

I’m alive; check. I’m safe; check. I don’t need food or water here because time seems to have frozen me; check.

Shadow had noticed this strange fact before. If he’d run between the mirrors, through the white mist, he’d discovered that time had frozen for him specifically, but not for the rest of the world. For example, if he had not been hungry when he entered the ‘Mirrorverse,’ as he liked to call it, then hours could pass in the real world and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

What kind of world does that? Freezes ‘me’ but keeps the time of the world outside ticking? Honestly, by the time I get out of here, I really will be Harry’s ‘little’ brother.

So far, the best way to take his mind off the loneliness here was to try and destroy the excess memories cluttering up his mind; or, at least, bury them so deeply that they would be impossible to find again.

Magic had created him, and though it had done a fair job of representing a human being, it had missed out some rather important characteristics.

Shadow, unlike any other human being, could remember every single detail of his life both before and after becoming a separate consciousness from Harry. At least, he used to be able to before he’d become trapped in the Mirrorverse; his soul separated from Harry’s for good. After that had happened, new memories didn’t seem to stick as strongly as the old ones had. Shadow extremely thankful for this.

It was extremely wearing; every memory always crowded to the forefront of his mind, making it difficult to think, or even experience anything new.

Harry’s magic had helped with this while they had still been connected at some subconscious level. That had made it bearable: helping him with remembering the right or important things and to shove everything else aside. But now, he was on his own and, most shockingly of all, with his own magic.

That had been the last thing he’d expected when his soul had separated from Harry’s; he’d been sure he would end up as a Squib, but that hadn’t happened.

Harry’s magic had torn itself straight down the middle, giving half of itself to Shadow, and activating his empty magical core. Shadow could only hope that Harry’s hadn’t been irreparably damaged in the process.

When Harry had described his magic, he always likened it to molten gold; some incredibly strong metal which wouldn’t tarnish, but that was malleable enough to bend to Harry’s every whim. So it had come as the shock of his life when Shadow had finally gathered up enough courage to explore his own magic.

Instead of encountering the ‘metal’ he’d expected, Shadow’s mental fingers had met with fire; a fierce, wild fire that felt like it would be very difficult to control if he ever used it upon something other than his own body, so Shadow hadn’t dared. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered to him was that it was there and it was his. Not Harry’s, not Lily’s, not even Snape’s, but his.

Shadow shook his head violently. It’s so hard to concentrate on any one thing. It’s worse than having a concussion! I was thinking about my own memories, not about Harry or my magic!

Shadow snorted at his short attention span. He really, really hated not being able to concentrate; so much so that some days he was very tempted to simply destroy every old memory he’d ever had and start afresh. Unfortunately, there were some memories that he really couldn’t bear to live without.

Like racing Harry on our brooms, or being held by Mum... not even Harry can remember that. I’ll have to remember it for him.

Shadow stopped walking and concentrated, carefully selecting a memory of cooking for the Dursleys – something mundane and nearly impossible to miss once it was gone – and drew it down into the inner flames of his magic.

“Burn,” he whispered softly and sighed with relief as the memory shrivelled and fell apart into nothing within the mental flames; a minimal amount of pressure disappeared from his mind. Shadow winced. As always, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty and upset at himself after he’d burned a memory. Destroying your own memories seemed somehow... sacrilegious... no matter how much it needed to be done.

It was then, standing and mourning for something he hadn’t needed, that he realised that the smell of burning was no longer entirely in his head. The second thing he realised was that something with small and very sharp teeth was trying to bite his foot.

Ron’s eyes went wide. “I know what that is,” he breathed. Harry’s mouth curved into a small smile at his best friend’s shock as he settled down on the seat beside Ron, cradling the book in his lap. Hermione was sat on the bench opposite and Neville was perch comfortably on her left. Trevor the Toad had fallen fast asleep, but Neville didn’t loosen his grip; in case the sleeping toad tried to escape again.

Ron shuffled closer to Harry, but was very careful not to touch the worn tome perched in his lap.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, leaning forward so eagerly that she looked ready to fall of her seat.

“This,” Harry said, trying to create a sense of theatre, “is the Inheritance book of the Ancient and Noble Line of Prince.” With a flourish, he turned it round to display the cover to her, only to pull it out of reach a second later.

“What?” Hermione asked, her hand suspended mid-air from where she’d been reaching out to take the book.

Harry sighed in relief and relaxed as soon as it became clear she wasn’t going to try to touch it again. He glanced to his right and realised that Ron’s muscles were only just unknotting as well. Obviously, he knew the dangers just as well as Harry did.

“Only those who have the Prince Family blood are able to touch this book without being permanently damaged,” he explained gently.

Hermione went white and snatched her hand back, looking faintly ill. Harry couldn’t help but feel very grateful about how much she trusted him.

“It’s OK,” he said consolingly. “I’ll read some bits out to you later, if you like?”

She nodded and shifted forward again, though this time the movement was more wary. Neville was staring very uneasily at the book in Harry’s hands.

“But, I don’t understand, Harry,” he said, brow furrowed over his blue eyes in puzzlement. “That would mean that you would have to have Prince Blood and the only living person of that bloodline is...” Neville’s words trailed off in a strangled gasp as he stared at Harry in horror.

Harry blinked at Neville in shock before gathering himself and giving the boy a sympathetic glance. If there was one less person that he had to break the news to, then it was for the better, wasn’t it? “Don’t worry, Neville. It’s not as bad as you think. Right, um,” he cleared his throat sharply, suddenly wondering where the hell he was going to start, “a lot of things happened to me over the summer...”

He almost couldn’t go on. Everything that had happened to him suddenly seemed fantastical and implausible. Hermione and Ron’s puzzled yet eager faces made it all the more difficult. How ridiculous will I sound when I say...?

“I discovered that James Potter wasn’t my father.”

Silence.

Harry tried to pretend that he didn’t care that his friends were staring. Then...

“But, mate,” Ron croaked, “I thought... What about S– Padfoot thinking that you were? I thought that this was your new disguise... that this Prince fellow would be a distant relative or, or something.”

Neville just groaned and hid his head in his knees. “Excuse me a moment,” he murmured as he climbed to his feet, “I just need to... think things over.”

“Neville, wait!” Harry shot to his feet, cradling the book protectively to his chest. “Please wait.” But what can I say? “Are you that sure you know who my f– father is? Without me telling you?”

“Yeah.” Neville gave him a wan smile. “Gran made me memorise back five generations of all the Elder families; I know who he is. I’m OK with that, Harry, I promise. I just... need to think.”

The door slid open and then closed; leaving Harry feeling like he’d lost a friend, no matter what Neville had said. With a huff, he slumped down again and tucked his legs up onto the seat, hugging the book tighter.

Whatever made me think I could do this without Shadow? I need him now, most desperately than ever before. Sure, we’d occasionally yell at each other, but we always sorted it out... Ever since he appeared, he was always there for me.

Harry glared at the window, almost willing it to shatter so he wouldn’t have to look at his strange, new face a second longer. He wouldn’t... couldn’t, simply couldn’t, tell his friends the whole truth. Shadow was gone and no amount of wishing would bring him back. Why should I have to talk about him when it would make the pain so much worse?

He flinched when he felt a hand settle on his knee. He looked up in time to see Hermione and Ron exchange a worried glance. Hermione turned her gaze to him and patted his knee one more time before removing her hand.

“Is it really that bad?” she asked in a low voice. “Because, well, you know that we’re with you no matter what.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Ron nodding his head and looking uncomfortable.

Screwing up every ounce of his Gryffindor courage – which must have come from his mother after all – Harry sat up and looked both of his friends in the eyes. 

“It’s... not as bad as I would have thought it was before the summer. He... I was staying at his house, but I didn’t find out about him being my father straight away. He didn’t know, but he was actually quite decent both before and after he found out too.” The words came out falteringly as Harry tried his damndest not to let slip who he had spent time with just yet.

Hermione nodded, probably trying to be encouraging, but just ending up looking chary. Ron seemed awfully dubious too.

Harry took a deep breath, screwed up his determination, and grudgingly told them how it had all started; how the Dursleys had mistaken the Malfoys for Grunnings clients and invited them into their house, thus breaking the wards; how Harry had hurt his ankle jumping out of the window (Hermione had to stifle a loud gasp at that point); the chase through the streets; and finally, how Harry had fooled his pursuer into tripping over him.

“...but it wasn’t Malfoy,” he told them, feeling quite smug at how enraptured they looked by the tale. Hermione had her hands held up near her mouth and Ron’s eyes were so wide that Harry could see the entirety of his iris.

As soon as it became obvious Harry wasn’t planning on carrying on straight away, irritation started to show on their faces, though it was clear that they were trying to keep quiet. Harry swallowed and looked down at his hands. It was more that he didn’t know how to proceed than he wanted to keep them in suspense.

On one the hand, he had always been very loyal to James when he had thought the man to be his father, and now it only seemed right that that loyalty should be transferred to Snape. However, on the other, one sure way to make his friends suspicious of Snape’s motives was to start telling them how he liked the man now, whereas last term he had been as nasty as possible behind the Potion Professor’s back. It was probably best to reveal the identity of his rescuer soon... but not just yet.

“But, Harry, who was it? Oh, that was so dangerous! You could have been seriously hurt!” Hermione finally fretted, her words drawing Harry out of his brief reverie.

“Yeah, mate, don’t leave us hanging in the dark,” Ron said, punching him on the arm.

“He well... he’s a friend of Dumbledore’s.” That was one sure way to nudge them into trusting the unknown man. “As soon as he saw who he had tripped over, he took me back to his house and healed me up, and then, I kinda ended up spending the rest of the summer there.”

He should have known his misdirection wasn’t enough to throw Hermione off the scent. “But, Harry, who was it?” she asked. Her expression clearly said she knew that Harry was trying to distract her.

His hand twisted the hem of his shirt in sudden anxiety, but the faint memory of Snape gently laying his hand across Harry’s to stop the fidgeting calmed him a little. Enough to make him relax his death grip on the book, at least.

Sighing, he lifted up the tome for her perusal. “I thought it would be best if I showed you. After all, you’d laugh if I told you outright.” He opened the book and carelessly riffled through the old and delicate pages, biting back a smile when he saw Hermione wince.

“Right,” he said, shifting to the middle of the seat so Hermione could come and sit on his other side. “This is my family tree! Not bad, eh?”

“Harry... the writing’s too small. I can’t read this,” Hermione said, frowning as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

Harry flushed. “Oh.” He’d forgotten about that.

“Only someone who’s listed on the family tree can use the Inheritance book of their family. After all, makes sense, since no one else can touch it,” Ron told her, looking very smug about being the knowledgeable one for once. Harry bit back another smile.

“Oh... Harry? If you would?”

“’Course.” He focused his eyes on the bottom of the second page and heard Hermione gasp as the last names suddenly magnified and came into focus. He slammed his hand over the last male name before his, and over his own surname, ignoring his friends’ puzzled glances.

Harry took a deep breath. “Right, so here I am.” He pointed at his name. “And... and here’s my father.” With a great deal of effort, Harry lifted his shaking right hand away from the page and closed his eyes.

“But, Harry, that’s impos–”

“What!”

Despite himself, Harry flinched, and opened his eyes to stare at a completely flabbergasted Ron.

“What? He... him... you... He, you? You... you, who?” Ron waved his arms around to try and illustrate the words that couldn’t quite make it out of his mouth, his brow crinkling in bewilderment as he became less and less coherent.

Harry couldn’t help it; in all the ways he had imagined his friends reacting to the news, this hadn’t been one of them; he shut the book... and started to laugh. He ended up laughing so hard that it hurt to continue, even though he couldn’t seem to stop.

Slowly, he became aware of someone’s hand gently rubbing circles into his back. He slumped over the closed volume in his lap and took a deep breath.

“Want to hear the irony?” His voice came out rough, alien, and suddenly he wanted someone else there instead of Ron and Hermione to calm him down; the same person who had been there for Harry the whole summer, in his own way. Snape wouldn’t need me to talk. He’d just sit here and not say anything; not ask any questions. In fact, he’d probably try to insult me in the way he does when he doesn’t really mean it. And then I’d feel better because I wouldn’t have to try so hard to pretend that nothing’s changed. Oh, for God’s sake! Pull yourself together!

“He’s actually been really decent to me... in a Snape-ish kinda way.”

Hermione and Ron looked dubious, but after the way he’d just lost control, it didn’t seem like they’d be saying anything to strongly contradict him in the near future.

“Harry... Are you sure you’re all right with this? Are you sure Snape didn’t do anything to hurt you and then told you to stay quiet? You know you can tell us.”

Harry sat up slowly and rubbed his face, dislodging Hermione’s hand in the process. “I know,” he sighed. “I know I can tell you two anything. Thing is... something, well, bad happened to me over the summer and Snape’s been there, trying to help me through it. I, I just can’t talk about it; not with Snape, not with anyone. The only reason he knows is because he was there at the time, so please don’t feel left out or anything.”

He gave his friends a pleading look, but all that happened was that Ron put a hand on his shoulder and that Hermione awkwardly gave him a hug, trying to avoid the Prince book on his lap.

Harry shut his eyes. “Thanks. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Though some days, I feel like I’m falling apart. They sat there for a couple of minutes, not saying anything. Harry could tell that their doubts about Snape had only been put off to a time when he was more stable, rather than having been laid to rest.

“Well,” Harry said as cheerfully as he could manage, pushing the pain down out of reach and smothering his magic over the top, “I’ve got something to show you!”

“What?” they asked warily, pulling back and regarding him as if they already knew he was pretending.

Harry felt a true smile breaking through as he thought of their coming reactions. “Snape’s birthday present to me.”

Their incredulous voices were very noisy all of a sudden, but Harry ignored them in favour of climbing up and swopping his book for Salem.

“Are all humanss ssso noisssy?” Salem grumbled as Harry stroked his little green head.

“Sometimes, but not always,” Harry whispered back. “They’re my best friends, so be nice.”

Salem raised his eyes to the heavens. “Aren’t I always niccce?”

Harry could feel laughter bubble up in his throat again, though this time it was the good kind. “Certainly not; you single-handedly tortured the nice pet shop lady for three months!”

Salem flickered his tongue disdainfully. “Bitter, old hag. You do one thing, and you’re ridiculed for it for the ressst of your life!”

Harry snorted, and sat back down on the padded bench in front of Ron and Hermione, who were still watching him cautiously.

“Hermione, Ron,” he held his hands out in front of him and opened them, “meet Salem.”

oooOOOooo

Severus leant forward and delicately cradled the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, trying to remain completely relaxed. His decision on what to do with his son needed to be settled soon, but he was still almost too angry to even think about it. Letting his temper get the better of him was bound to cause more harm than good.

It was now, while the last of the sun’s rays slowly filtered through his sitting room window, that Severus slowly recalled why he never he drank on September the first. The calming effect of the alcohol had already worn off and lethargy was settling in its place. Doubtless by the time the Welcoming Feast was taking place, he would have already developed a splitting headache, ready to be exacerbated by shrieking adolescents.

It wasn’t as if the drink had helped him any. After several wasted hours and many discarded plans, Severus was no closer to deciding on how he could deal with Pot... Harry rationally. All the punishments he’d come up with so far would either have no effect or would be too harsh, and while that might have been fine with Severus in the past, it was unacceptable for dealing with his own family.

Family. Now there’s a word I never thought I’d use without any sense of irony! Severus settled back in his chair and began tracing his upper lip with one finger. If I can’t think of a pre-decided punishment, then I suppose... Severus grimaced at the idea. I’ll have to listen to what the little brat has to say to me. Of course, here the grimace slowly transformed into a smirk, that doesn’t mean I can’t express my displeasure to him beforehand... let him sweat a bit during the Feast. 

After all, it serves him right. As Head of the Family, I should be the one in control of all the assets and heirlooms of our ancestors, not some insolent whelp who didn’t even know he was born of Prince Blood until a month back!

Severus nodded in concurrence to his own thoughts and slowly raised himself from his chair, not even noticing he’d just given in to what he’d been trying to resist all afternoon. It was time to go back to Hogwarts and teach his son a lesson.

Despite his distemper, he felt a thrill of anticipation as he thought about returning to the old castle. The place had been more his home than Spinners End ever had, and even though he had his own cherished home now, that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the appropriate nostalgia for Hogwarts. With a jolt he realised the same must be true for Harry as well; after all, it’s not as if someone could consider a cupboard, or a room with multiple locks on the door, as their home.

He shook his head as disgust at the Dursleys overtook him again. He was determined that, no matter what happened from now until the time when Harry decided he would be better off without Severus, his son would always be welcome in Severus’ home.

However, that didn’t mean he would let Harry walk all over him or lie to him. Lord knew the boy got into enough trouble without deliberately breaking rules. Severus was not going to let him get away with this.

Still wrapped up in his thoughts, Severus barely noticed the Floo journey to Hogwarts. This was probably just as well, considering how he sometimes reacted to it. Floo-ing with alcohol in his system could be considered as practically begging for a mishap, but luck was on his side, and he arrived safely without even realising he’d left Tharabraye.

Looking around his dim, dungeon quarters, a pang for leaving his Manor home behind temporarily brought him out of his ruminations. These rooms would now be his home for the next ten months. Perfectly placed for the Head of Slytherin, they allowed him to deal with any House issues that arose swiftly and easily, both when he was needed in the Common Room and when a stray student came to ask his advice.

He wondered briefly if Harry would be one of them.

It only took a few, quick waves of his wand to settle his belongings, which regularly travelled back and forth between here and his Manor, into their rightful places. It was there, surrounded by his possessions and the comfortable dark of his dungeons that Severus had an epiphany. The corners of his lips stretched into a particularly nasty smirk; he knew exactly what he was going to do with the ex-Potter spawn.

He quickly glanced at the clock; no time to think of something else now. He needed to turn up for the last minute staff meeting, which was always held about an hour before the students’ arrival.

He quickly arranged for the potions’ box waiting on the nearby table to be delivered to Pomfrey before striding out into corridors and making his way to the staffroom.

The room in question was small enough to be considered cozy and lit to a soft yellow by many flickering candle flames: a vast contrast compared to the dark and drafty halls that made up the rest of the castle. Soon enough, Filch would be stumping around, with faithful Mrs Norris at his heels, lighting all the many thousands of candles in preparation for the students’ return.

Severus was always astounded at how vehemently the old Squib refused help in this matter, but he supposed all those who worked at Hogwarts demonstrably loved the castle in their own different ways.

“Severus!” Poppy Pomfrey’s loud exclamation shortly after he entered caused him to look up in surprise. The other members of the faculty glanced over and briefly murmured their greetings before returning to their previous tasks. Severus nodded in acknowledgement, but remembering what he would soon need to tell these people set his teeth on edge.

“You will find your latest potions in the Hospital Wing, Poppy,” he told her silkily before stepping into one of the few shadows in the room. He did not want to be bothered a single moment before it was necessary. Pomfrey looked offended by his abrupt disregard of her, but didn’t say anything further on the matter.

Mere minutes after Severus had taken his seat in the darkest corner, Albus breezed into the room as though he spent his whole summer relaxing on a beach somewhere instead of spending the last month rallying his troops to battle against a psychotic Dark Lord. For the first time since Albus had told him, he felt the full impact of not having to spy on the evil bastard anymore.

The near physical release made him feel light-headed and giddy and he barely took in what Albus was saying about tightened security, which they all already knew about, of course. For the first time in his life he would be able to fight openly for the right side.

“... and Severus has something to tell us all regarding the situation with Mr Potter.”

The words brought him out of his own head with a jerk and he found himself the centre of attention in the silent staff room.

Regaining his composure without even needing to bat an eyelid, he gave the Headmaster a slow nod and began tracing his top lip with the tip of his index finger. Once he was certain they were all riveted, he began.

“This summer, the illustrious,” he nearly smirked as his emphasis of the word made the Potter fans among the staff twitch, “Mr Potter spent the last month of it in my company.”

“What? You... you mean?” Minerva had half risen out of her chair in outrage.

Severus inclined his head in her direction and softly continued as though nothing was amiss, “Indeed, Minerva. The time I asked you watch over my house while I was absent was for a very good reason.” He smirked at her near incoherent outrage to this revelation.

“However,” he paused significantly and waited for the room to become completely silent, “during Potter’s stay, the Headmaster and I discovered that he was under a spell of a most alarming nature. This spell had hidden Potter’s true identity and appearance for precisely fourteen years. The removal of this spell resulted in the discovery of Mr Potter’s true father.”

Severus lapsed into silence and settled deeper into his chair. Just when it looked like his companions were about to demand an answer, he opened his mouth and watched in amusement as they subsided.

“From now on, the erstwhile Mr Potter shall be known as Harry James Snape.”

Severus closed his eyes and listened as the room erupted in pandemonium, resisting the urge to cackle with glee. That had been just too good. He made no move to aid Albus in quieting the outraged professors, in fact as soon as their attention was focused on the Headmaster, he slipped out of the room.

It was almost time for the train to be arriving in Hogsmeade. Severus even let himself fancy that he could hear the muted shriek of a steam whistle in the distance. He glanced at the large front doors once before settling into the impenetrable shadows of the Entrance Hall to await his wayward son.

He let himself relax and slip deeper into the last true quiet he would experience until next summer; but even this was broken by the odd, muffled voice and several quick footsteps heading into the Great Hall. It was almost time, then.

The sounds of the first carriages pulling up outside and the loud chattering of voices made him go from being relaxed to alert in an instant. The vast doors opened and students began streaming through, each one seeming to make more noise than was humanly possible. Severus slipped deeper into the shadows and flicked his eyes over the crowd, searching for Harry.

His son was nowhere to be seen, but he didn’t let himself panic. Yet.

Slowly, the volume of people decreased until the flood of individuals had narrowed down to groups of threes and twos. Severus had mentally ticked off his Slytherins as they passed him; they were all accounted for, which meant that none were giving Harry grief. He wasn’t sure whether this could be counted as a good thing or not.

And then... a tall, red-headed boy walked through the open doors, closely followed by a short girl, her frizzy hair halo-ing her head, and then a tallish youth with long, brown hair who didn’t seem quite comfortable in his own body.

Severus let out a silent breath of tension he hadn’t realised he had been holding and slowly stalked up behind them. The Weasley child noticed him first and froze, blindly reaching a hand out to grab Harry’s upper arm. Harry turned in confusion and startled a little when he saw how close Severus had become.

He started to smile, but a sharp look from Severus made him abort the expression before it had even fully formed. The child stared up in bewilderment as Severus glared at him.

“Mister Snape,” Severus purred, careful to annunciate every syllable. Granger and Weasley flinched, but Harry’s forehead just crinkled even further. Severus almost smirked. Let him think hard about what he might have done; that should make him squirm just enough for my purposes. “I expect to see you in my office precisely ten minutes after the Sorting has taken place. Do not be late.”

With those parting words, Severus easily swept past them and continued into the Great Hall, leaving a very worried Harry in his wake.

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.

Harry ran through the corridors, half expecting to hear loud footsteps and an angry voice close behind him. The small part of his mind that was still thinking rationally was appalled at how he had spoken to his father and more than a little afraid. However, the rest of him was in too much of a temper to take any heed.

How dare he treat me like that? I was careful! What right has he to treat me like a little child?

Harry snarled and viciously punched a wall as he passed. The angry pain only exacerbated his fury instead of dimming it. His emotions were swirling inside him with such violence that it frightened him a little.

About halfway through his conversation with Snape, he hadn’t been able to control his temper any longer and he had almost flinched as he’d waited for his power to overflow into a fantastical display of accidental magic, but that hadn’t happened.

What had happened was worse.

His magic had swirled inside him like white-hot, molten metal whose container had been shaken, lifting its pressure from all the memories and feelings he’d been tamping down beneath it for weeks beforehand. Everything he had been feeling, but had pushed back, had exploded inside him in that one moment and all he had wanted to do was scream, lash out, hurt something.

Even now, he couldn’t seem to settle his emotions at all, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit. The raging inside of him didn’t seem to want to calm on its own.

Breathing heavily, Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared down at his hand. With several loud cracking sounds, the bones within it set themselves back into place and he cried out from the sudden, sharp pain of it.

It was then that he realised the roaring inside of him had stopped.

Right... Right. He started hurrying towards Gryffindor Tower again. I must have needed to use my magic for it to settle again, as it obviously won’t let itself out while I’m angry without my full permission... Hastily, Harry shoved the resurfacing guilt, grief and anger underneath the warm, magical ‘blanket’ that his settling core had created. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t quite bear to let himself truly feel them just yet.

I want to sleep. I just want to sleep and wake up and find that everything has sorted itself out while I was unconscious.

Harry sighed and pushed into the Gryffindor Common Room behind a couple of lagging Second Years. They tried to stop him, thinking that he was from another House, but he brushed them off easily.  Ha, no one recognises Famous Harry Potter now. I’m glad Snape managed to convince Dumbledore not to announce who I was to the rest of the school.

He shivered a little as he remembered his father’s anger, but couldn’t help but feel that it was all a misunderstanding that had been blown out of proportion. After all, the Snape who had looked after him over the summer had been very different to the Snape who had confronted him today... But that didn’t mean Harry wanted to see him again, just yet. He was still too furious.

And besides... Harry hunched his shoulders a little at the thought. Besides, if Snape hadn’t overreacted, if he hadn’t banned Harry from Quidditch on the spur of the moment, then that might mean Hermione had been right all along, and Harry would never be able to trust the man again...

He wasn’t ready to find out one way or the other just now.

He slowly climbed the stairs to his room, shoved open the door and was suddenly greeted by a loud, shouted “Surprise!” from his dorm mates and Hermione. The room was literally covered in red and gold streamers. Ron must have told Dean and Seamus about Harry’s appearance because they didn’t look in the least bit surprised to see him, and even Neville was smiling widely as he saw him. Ron, however, looked a little worried.

Harry felt his face stretch into a scowl. “Not in the mood tonight, guys,” he grumbled as he moved past them to get towards his four-poster. His temper was starting to rise again, especially as Hermione was now pursing her lips and wearing an ‘I told you so’ expression.

“Fuck off, Hermione!” he snarled as he yanked the bed’s curtains around him. He’d already used proper wandless magic once that night, so he was forced to reach for his wand in order to lock out and silence the rest of the world. He could only hope that the others wouldn’t dare to disturb him as he covered his head with his pillow and longed for oblivion.

Harry groaned and slowly forced his eyes open to the light that had somehow invaded his bed space. With a shock, he realised it was morning.

He reached for his glasses on the bedside table before abruptly remembering that he didn’t need them anymore. Hedwig, who was sitting on his headboard, hooted a soft greeting to him before tucking her head back under her wing. Obviously, she’d had a long night, hunting the local rodent population. Pushing himself upright, he glanced down towards whatever was making a dent at the foot of the bed.

Hermione and Ron were perched on either side of his four-poster, with a pile of brightly wrapped presents settled between them. As soon as Harry’s eyes focussed on them, Ron started to sing in a loud, off-key voice.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday you sodding-miserable-git-who-was-determined-to-have-his-presents-over-a-month-laaate, Happy Birthday to you!”

Ron gave a mock bow and Harry found himself laughing in spite of everything. Even Hermione was giggling a little, though she had been gnawing worriedly on her lower lip the moment before. As soon as Harry’s eyes rested on her, she couldn’t seem to contain herself any longer.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t’ve said those things and I feel awful now and I was just so worried. I’m so sorry, Harry.” Her words all came out so quickly that they seemed to all run into each other. She stared at him with worried, brown eyes and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty at how he had treated her the night before.

“I’m really sorry too, Hermione. I should have behaved better as well. Friends?”

She sniffed and nodded vigorously. “Friends.” She quickly darted forward and squeezed him tight before letting go. “Ron said that I was an idiot... and I can see I really was...”

“Hermione, you’re forgiven. Just, in future, don’t try to tell me my own mind. Keep quiet like Ron, despite the fact that you want to say a hundred horrible things against the man. I know he’s a git, but...” Harry broke off as he remembered why he had been so angry last night.

“I understand. I promise I won’t say anything against him and that I’ll listen if you ever want to tell me anything instead of prying.” She looked like she’d just had to hand back a hundred Galleons worth of book tokens to Flourish and Blotts, but Harry could tell that she meant it. Curiosity killed the Hermione...

“So!”

Hermione and Harry jumped at Ron’s loud exclamation.

“Presents!” Ron grabbed one and chucked it at Harry. “You’ve got plenty of time to open them. Everyone went to breakfast early, and judging by your expression last night, we decided that you wouldn’t want to go down to the Great Hall anytime soon.” Ron handed over several napkins filled with all kinds of breakfast foods.

Harry looked down at them and groaned loudly as something else from the night before came back to him.

“Dean, Seamus, and Neville must think I’m such an arse! I mean, they must have worked so hard with the decorations and everything, and then I just threw it back in their faces!”

Hermione gently patted his arm. “Don’t worry. You really did look very upset last night, so I’m sure they won’t mind. After all, they all got out of bed early this morning so that we would have the time to talk to you. On the first day, too!”

“Harry,” Ron said very seriously. “If you don’t open your presents soon, I’m going to have to invoke the best friend’s right.”

Harry stared at him, baffled. “What’s that?”

Ron grinned. “I get to have all your presents by forfeit!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Harry yelped, laughing happily as he tore off the wrapping of the present in his lap.

oooOOOooo

Severus looked down at the myriad of young faces staring up at him and slowly let his lips twist into a smirk.

“Welcome to Slytherin,” he purred softly and watched as the First Years shivered with part-fear, part-awe. He glanced at the older years. “And for the rest of you, Welcome back.” He turned to his eleven new students.

“Good evening, I am your Head of House and Potions Professor. From here on in, you shall all address as ‘Professor Snape’ or ‘sir’. Out of House, I expect you to treat me with nothing less than the highest degree of respect at all times. In a House like Slytherin, you must be aware that Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and even Hufflepuff believe us to be an inferior, possibly unworthy, House. This image of us was conceived through no fault of our own, but through useless propaganda bandied about by the older years, and thus it has been throughout the ages.”

Severus broke off and glanced around the enraptured faces arrayed beneath him.

“It is for this reason that we Slytherins must try their hardest to excel at all times; in lessons, in grades, in behaviour and even in decorum. To be given even the barest notice of being praiseworthy, Slytherins must outclass all other competition. However, this does not mean that you are permitted to hex the Gryffindors so that they can only speak in gibberish for a whole afternoon... Mr Nott.”

The boy in question suddenly found something extremely interesting to look at on the ceiling.

Severus cleared his throat and finished up his speech, “The Prefects; Jacobs, Flynn, Smith and Moon – congratulations, you four – will show you to your dormitories and answer any other questions you might have. In addition, my office door is always open to anyone who wishes to speak with me, and there are a fair number of students who know where my quarters are in the case of an emergency. I shall expect to see you all at least once over the course of the coming term.”

Here, he redirected his gaze to include all the other students as well. “Curfew is at nine o’clock, lights out is at eleven. Anyone found circumventing these rules will receive an automatic detention unless they have a genuinely valid reason.” He softened his tone a little, “However, coming to speak with me is always considered a valid reason no matter what the time may be. Good night.”

He nodded sharply at everyone and swept out of the Common Room, more than ready to call it a night. If only Harry were as easy to deal with as some of my Slytherins... stubborn little nuisance that he is!

After having given himself plenty of time to cool down, Severus was starting to feel more than a little concerned about his errant son. During the summer, he would never have let Harry go off on his own with his emotions running that high.

Severus sighed and vowed that after Harry had had enough time to calm down as well, he would try to speak with him about what was really bothering him. It was clear that there was something else concerning his son other than being angry at being punished. The fact that Harry had refused point blank to talk about the Shadow boy was not a good sign, and leaving something like that to fester would never do any good.

Severus idly wondered if being hard on the boy at this point was the right course of action.

The rest of the night mostly consisted of him catching cat naps in between getting up to comfort homesick First Years, as well as one or two Second Years. So, all in all, he was feeling rather worn down by the time breakfast rolled around.

His mood was not improved any when Harry failed to make an appearance in the Great Hall. Severus certainly hoped the food that Granger and Weasley were stuffing into napkins was for his son. Merlin knew, the last thing the brat needed was to miss out on even more meals. He resolved to speak to Harry about that as well, as soon as possible.

He glanced around the staff table and barely managed to suppress a smirk at the sour glances he was receiving. Obviously, quite a few people were still sore that he’d turned out to be the father of the favoured boy-child. Strangely enough, Minerva didn’t seem to be as annoyed as he thought she would be...

No matter. I can still rile her up over the Quidditch scores... especially now I’ve put her star Seeker out of action. Severus felt a sharp pang of guilt as he thought of that and his stomach roiled uneasily. Was I right to punish Harry the way I did? Quidditch was one sure-fire way of cheering him up and he’s been looking so miserable lately... I only meant to confiscate his broom, but he was acting so stubbornly! Refusing to realise the extent of the damage he may have caused!

From the corner of his eye he saw Granger and Weasley leave the Great Hall. But there is no harm in trying to talk to him about it now that he’s had a chance to think...

Severus rose and swept from the Hall himself, mentally preparing for the full day of classes ahead. The fact that he would be teaching Harry’s class fourth lesson made him unaccountably nervous. However, he was certain that terrifying a couple of First Years for the first two hours of the day would make him feel much better. Just because he didn’t have to favour Death Eater children any longer didn’t mean that he would suddenly become a ‘nice’ teacher.

The trip down to the dungeons was made shorter by him veering into several of the secret passageways that he passed. In fact, he arrived in plenty of time to wait and lurk in the shadows as the new First Years trickled into his classroom. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. There truly could not be a worse mixture. It was the same every year; the Gryffindors would be near impossible to control as they would be determined to demonstrate their infuriating bravado and the new Hufflepuffs would be so nervous they wouldn’t be able to concentrate properly.

Severus would be lucky if he managed to force any knowledge into their skulls this first lesson.

In the distance, a magical bell clanged and he strode forward from the shadows, through the open classroom door, and slammed it loudly behind him. Gratifyingly, the whole class jumped, and a couple of the girls even screamed.

“Wands away!” Severus hissed. “You will find no use for your conjuring sticks in my class. The subtle and exact science of potion-making requires a lot more finesse than is expected of you in your other lessons ...”

And so it continued.

The First Years behaved as expected all through the double lesson, behaving with both nervousness and insolence as befitted their House. So much so that the Sixth Years that followed them were a welcome relief. It was gratifying to be finally able to work with students that were actually interested in Potions, even if it was only for a single lesson, which was one of the reasons why Severus made it so difficult to get into the NEWT class.

He gently reached out his magic and briefly brushed it against each of their magical cores. Each and every one of them was capable of shutting him out, but far too many of them did not know what was happening or even noticed his touch.

It was a very effective method of searching out those either plotting mischief or not concentrating – it all depended on how bright their magic was shining. Very bright always belonged to the mischief-makers, whereas a muted core meant that the student was either nervous or daydreaming. Severus had used this method in all his years of a teacher – gaining him the reputation as a mind-reader – but never had he been able to sense the students so clearly before.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to Lily for removing the Dark Mark, before turning back to his students.

Surprisingly, it was one of his Slytherin girls who started acting up a little in that class, but after a little internal debate, Severus decided not to take House points away. As he’d said the night before, Slytherins needed to stick together.

Instead, he waited until after the class and held her back under the pretence of talking about her OWL marks. When they were they only two in the classroom, Severus warned her in a low voice that she would be serving a rather unpleasant detention if she ever attempted to sabotage another student’s potion again. He then asked her if there was anything that might be bothering her.

The girl stared at the floor and bit her lip, looking so much like his son for a moment that Severus’ heart gave a jolt.

“Miss Adie?” he prompted. When the girl still said nothing, he gave a sharp nod and turned as if to dismiss her. “As usual, I will be in my office tonight if there is anything you wish to discuss at length with me.” He deliberately softened his tone as he spoke his next words, “As Slytherin Head of House, it is expected of me to listen to each and every one of my students’ concerns. Rest assured, you will not be intruding.”

Miss Adie seemed to relax at those words and she bobbed her head politely. “Thank you, Professor,” she murmured before hurrying out of the room, unwittingly opening the door to let Severus’ new Fourth Years in.

Severus couldn’t help but let his eyes sweep over the crowd and briefly rest on the brown-haired boy near the back. His son was avoiding his eyes.

Bugger.

Harry slid into the Potions classroom, almost cringing as he caught sight of his father standing near the front.

I don’t want to see him. Not yet.

Harry grimaced at his thoughts and automatically took a seat right at the back of the classroom. Ron and Hermione slid protectively into the places either side of him, eyeing Snape with mistrust. After opening all of his wonderful new presents, Harry had finally screwed up enough courage to tell them of his punishment and the reason for it. Ron especially, had thought it far too harsh.

“No way! No way should that greasy bastard be allowed to take Quidditch from you!” Ron raged, his fists balled up by his sides. “Just who does he think he is?”

Harry gave him a wry look. “My father, maybe, Ron?” He almost winced as he remembered that he’d said the exact same thing to Snape the night before. The man was going to be so angry!

Ron looked stumped for a minute before he rallied. “Yeah, but, yeah... No father should do that to his own son! It’s just cruel!”

Harry sighed unhappily. “Tell me about it.” He idly picked up the little, silver bell Hermione had got him and shook it. A soft tinkling sound filled the room and Harry’s heart lifted with it. “Forget it, though, Ron. It’s not like I can do anything about it or get him to change his mind. It is Snape after all!” Harry shook the bell again and found himself smiling. “Hey, Hermione, what did you say this was for again?”

“Oh, it’s something I picked up in the Wizarding part of Greece – that’s where my parents and I were before this whole Ministry business happened – and I thought it might interest you.” Hermione held her hand out for the object and Harry obligingly put it into her upraised palm. “This is one of the few items used to train a Vivimancer.”

Harry and Ron looked blank.

“Oh, honestly!” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Vivimancy? The opposite of Necromancy? The people that lay the spirits to rest that the Necromancers called up? No? Oh well, it’s a more well-known art outside of Britain, anyway. The Bell, one the Vivimancer’s tools of trade, is the one object capable of calming a spirit enough to make it want to cross back over to the other side.”

Hermione held the bell up to the light and Harry looked on with more interest than before.

“However, it only has the strength to calm an undead spirit when rung in a certain way. Just waving the bell around at random will have no effect.” Hermione demonstrated and the soft tinkling rang throughout the room again. “It’s calming to us, but the undead would be unable to hear it. Now, this is a training bell, so it won’t do anything except teach the owner of it how to use it properly, and if you ring it right, you’ll get a reward. Hang on...”

Hermione thought for a minute and then swung the bell with six complicated wrist movements, making the bell peel out several different notes, ending on a high note that made Harry’s ears ring and his head feel fuzzy. There was a soft thump on the bed and Harry looked down, starting to laugh as he realised the bell had released a chocolate frog in response to Hermione’s efforts.

Hermione beamed and handed the frog to Harry. “There you go. Actually,” she looked a little sheepish, “I only bought it because I heard that it had a calming effect on humans. I thought that you might need something like this after the past three years you’ve had, but as soon as I heard there was a back-story, I knew I had to learn all about it!”

Ron laughed and clapped her on the back. “There’s our Hermione! And to think,” he glanced at Harry, who was currently munching on the chocolate frog, “I only got you a box of Filibusters and some Chocolate Cauldrons. Leave it to a girl to make a guy feel insignificant!”

Harry laughed and punched Ron on the shoulder. “I love both of your presents just as much and you both know it! Thanks a lot, guys.”

Hermione beamed. “You’re welcome, Harry. Now, it’s time to get up and get ready for classes! You don’t want to be late on the first day, you know.” She got up and disappeared out the door.

Ron rolled his eyes and helped Harry put away his presents. “Girls! Who’d have ‘em?”

Harry smiled back and rang the bell on last time before slipping it into his trunk, enjoying the feeling of peace and well-being while it lasted.

Now however, Harry felt anything but relaxed as he clenched his hands on top of his desk and waited for the lesson to begin. He flinched almost violently when he accidently caught his father’s eye.

What the hell is he going to do to me now? In the past he’s been a whole lot nastier to me for a whole lot less... Oh, God, the names I called him!

Harry glared at the grain of the desk and shuddered as Snape began to speak, waiting for the axe to fall any second from now. Deciding that it was probably best that he listened to the lecture, Harry slowly lifted his head and stared at a point over Snape’s head, pulling out quill and parchment to begin writing like the rest of the class.

From time to time he felt his neck prickle as Snape moved about the classroom, his quiet voice echoing loudly in the near silence of the dungeons. Harry had felt a slight leap of joy his father had said that this was a recap lesson and that there would be no brewing that day. He was pretty sure his shaking hands would have botched any potion of his to a standard worse than Neville’s.

And still Snape hadn’t said anything to Harry.

This worried Harry more than he cared to admit. Surely the longer Snape held off, the nastier he was going to be? He clenched his sweaty palms to try and stop the shaking, but there was nothing he could do to stop the twisting in his stomach.

I wish I had that bell right now... But that’s one thing that would be sure to attract Snape’s attention.

“Mr Malfoy.”

Harry twitched, and then berated himself for being so jumpy.

“What are the three most essential components found in all antidotes?”

Malfoy sat up straight and preened a little. Harry rolled his eyes at the behaviour. You aren’t that special to him, you stupid twat. He’s MY father. Harry turned his head and glared at the smug Slytherin.

“There is no such thing as a universal component for all antidotes, sir. However, fresh Mandrake root is often used in restoring the body, asphodel is used for protection of the mind and armadillo bile is used to improve mental ability. Because all three of these are often found in many antidotes, most people wrongly assume that they are required in all ‘fixing’ potions.”

Snape nodded approvingly. “Excellent evaluation, Mr Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin.”

Harry felt a hot spike of anger settling in his gut, but before he could realise his unexplainable jealously, Snape had turned his gaze to him. Harry froze where he sat.

“Mr Snape.”

Whatever else Snape was going to say was cut off by a series of loud gasps and low murmuring travelling around the room. Harry cringed at the sound. So far, his teachers had avoided calling his name out in class, acting as though Harry weren’t quite there, and so now, everywhere he looked, Harry met gazes that were either stunned, horrified or a mixture of both. Harry briefly wondered which ones hadn’t yet worked out that the strange newcomer was none other than Harry Potter.

“Silence!”

The entire class flinched and turned their eyes to Snape, all suddenly very nervous about what he was going to do now, Harry most of all.

Snape glared around at each of them, his lips twisted in disdain. “You are not permitted to speak unless I give my express permission. Is that understood?” he hissed, and the class flinched at the venom in his tone. “I have half a mind to give you all detention for your insolence...”

Harry was gratified to see that Snape gave the Slytherins the evil eye as well.

“Now, Mr Snape.”

Harry’s heart sank.

oooOOOooo

Severus watched his tense son with interest.

Calm down, Harry. I haven’t even asked the question yet. Not that it’s a particularly difficult one at any rate...

“The body parts of which creature render the application of a Bezoar useless?”

Severus almost frowned as Harry tensed up even further, but was careful to keep the consternation from his face. The boy’s eyes were going glassy, as though he were remembering something he’d rather not.

Come along, Harry. I’m well aware you know this. I made you read the chapter with this in at least three times, for Merlin’s sake! What on Earth’s the matter?

Harry’s hands fisted in his robes and he began to look extremely miserable.

“Well?”

Harry glanced up at Severus once before turning his pale face to the desk. Severus sighed inaudibly, only to feel acute worry for his son settle in his stomach a moment later.

Did he not have any breakfast after all? Is he feeling unwell? Should I keep him behind and send him up to Madame Pomfrey? Help him myself?

Severus forced himself to turn away and continue lecturing to the rest of the class. The lesson was almost over anyway...

“The correct answer is the crocodile, namely the throat and stomach. This non-magical creature’s natural bodily enzymes counteract the Bezoar, meaning that its application would be useless. Of course, if the potion had been boiled during the brewing process, the heat would have de-natured the enzymes, thus destroying its use as a poison.”

The bell rang, but none of the class dared move from their seats, despite the fact that it was now lunchtime. Severus felt his lips curl into a small smirk. He had taught them well.

“The concept that I wish for you to take away with you is twofold; one, never rely solely on a Bezoar to save someone from poison, and two, never, ever boil a potion with crocodile parts in it unless you want an instant fail in my class. I want two rolls on parchment on this, due next Monday. Now, get out.”

There was a general scramble and rush for the door, but none of the students moved as fast as Harry, who was out of the room before Severus could even think to call his name. His friends followed close behind.

“Miss Granger!” Severus snapped quickly and the girl froze, one foot already out in the corridor. “Stay behind.”

Looking incredibly nervous, Granger turned around and walked to stand in front of his desk. Severus waited until the room was empty before gesturing the door closed with his wand. It responded with a bang.

Granger jumped and let out a small squeak, turning to face him with wide eyes. Severus leaned back on his desk and gave her a cool stare.

“Miss Granger, was the food you removed from the Great Hall this morning consumed by my son?” he asked without further preamble.

“Ex-excuse me, sir?” she stammered, staring at him incredulously.

Severus snorted softly. “And here I was under the impression that you were intelligent. My son,” he said emphatically. “Did he eat anything this morning?”

“Oh! I- Yes, yes, he did. Ron and I made sure of it.”

Severus let his eyes slip closed in vague relief. So at least he hasn’t made himself sick. But this means that something else is wrong... He sighed and opened his eyes again to find the girl staring at him with open curiosity.

“Thank you, Miss Granger.” He made his way around his desk and pulled a potion out of one of the warded draws. “Deliver this to him and inform him that I expect him to drink it.”

Granger delicately took the light green potion out of his outstretched hand and even had the audacity to smile a little as she identified it. “Of course, sir. Harry will appreciate this, I’m sure!”

Severus ignored her. “You are dismissed.” He didn’t bother watching as she made her way out of the door, but he did let his head fall into his hands once he heard it click shut behind her.

What in Merlin’s name gave me the impression that I could do this? Worrisome, stubborn child. Why do I have to care?

Harry was barely aware of Ron trying to draw him out of his funk after they sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He was miserable and angry at himself for wallowing, but he couldn’t seem to help it. It hadn’t been Snape who had upset him this time – Snape had actually been quite decent about asking Harry an obvious question – but rather the memory of the last person who had told him the answer to the question he had been asked.

The memory brought back a sick wistfulness to his tongue and a sharp pain to his mind. How he wished he could forget it all and just move on, but this was the one thing he seemed completely unable to do... 

Shadow was lying on the bed reflected in the mirror, repeatedly chucking a ball up in the air and catching it again. Harry was pretty certain that the ball had belonged to Dudley, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not about that, at any rate... 

“Shadow,” he groaned for what felt like the eighteenth time, “please concentrate!”

Shadow turned his head to the side and gave Harry a lazy grin as he twirled the ball between his fingers. ‘Why should I? After all, I’m not the one who has to remember all these facts. I just have to sit back and relax while you get humiliated in class for having a brain like a sieve...’ he teased.

Harry glared. “Brothers are supposed to help each other – even brothers who are invisible to everyone else!”

‘All right, all right, fine!’ Still grinning, Shadow sat upright and chucked the ball at his side of the mirror. ‘Ask away, I’m listening.’

Harry winced as the mirror wobbled dangerously. “Please try not to break that again. It’s bad enough that I’ve got Snape asking me how I managed to break it from the last time!”

Shadow laughed as he stood and wandered over to the mirror. ‘I’ll be good now, I promise. What are you stuck on?’

“This!” Harry shook the potions book violently. “I don’t understand. Why bother creating all these different antidotes when a Bezoar would work just as well?”

‘A Bezoar only works on most poisons. It would be pretty useless if you gave the poisoned person a Bezoar, it didn’t work, and then you had no idea how to create an antidote from scratch.’

“I suppose.” Harry sighed heavily and stared at the book with a miserable expression.

‘What’s wrong, Harry?’

“I still don’t get why it wouldn’t work... And I bet I’ll be the one Snape asks about this.”

‘All right, let’s see if I can explain this... umm, you know what an enzyme is, don’t you?’

Harry nodded, praying that Shadow would, as usual, have the answer. “Something that breaks down food into something smaller?”

‘Precisely!’ Shadow grinned and leaned forward with the same intense expression he always got when trying to teach Harry something. ‘All you have to remember is that there’s pretty much an enzyme for everything; and the enzyme for a Bezoar – for some archaic and unexplainable reason – is found inside of a crocodile. Add that to a poison, the magic of the potion enhances the enzyme’s ability and that’s what makes a Bezoar useless. Ta da!’ Shadow held his arms wide and smiled happily. ‘Understand now?’

“Yes... yes, actually.” Harry smiled back. “Thanks, Shadow, you’re the best!”

“Potter! Lunch!” Harry and Shadow jumped at the sudden shout.

Shadow was the first to recover and snickered a little. ‘Sounds like brewing hasn’t been going as planned!’

“Do you think that Vanishing his cauldron had a bad effect on it?” Harry’s innocent question started them both laughing.

‘We should try that again sometime – if only to see his face!’ Shadow chuckled.

“Yeah, let’s. Only, we’d better go down now before he comes to find me.”

‘Can’t have that, can we?’ Shadow’s mock sincerity almost caught Harry out, but at the last minute, he noticed the smirk playing around his counterpart’s lips.

“Shadow, you twit! Be serious!”  

Laughing, Shadow dived for the side of the mirror frame. ‘Have to catch me first!’

“Harry? Harry!”

Harry jerked at the sound of his name as awareness returned and glanced up at Hermione, who was staring down at him worriedly. He winced as he realised that he’d been staring blankly at the table for the past five minutes. His anger at himself increased as he understood that, yet again, he’d become maudlin.

For God’s sake, Harry, he’s dead! Get over it!

That thought made him flinch and he hastily turned back to face his friends.

“Sorry about that, I was just... thinking.”

Hermione smiled. “That’s OK, Harry. Look; Snape kept me behind after class and asked about you.”

Harry felt his eyebrows rising. After what I did, he still cares? “He did?”

“Yes, he asked me if you’d been eating.” Hermione was practically beaming now. “And when I said you had, he asked me to give you this despite that...”

Harry glanced down at the potions phial in Hermione’s hand, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at the kind gesture. “Oh. Umm, thanks.” He took it from her and downed it immediately, barely noticing the flavour. Maybe he doesn’t hate me again after all...

Ron looked a little pale. “Blimey, mate... that could have been anything, and, and you just drank it!”

Harry felt himself beginning to grin at Ron’s shock. “It’s just a nutritive potion, Ron. He’s been forcing these down me all summer. Something about me being too thin.” He pocketed the potions phial and turned towards his lunch, feeling hungry for the first time since he’d returned to Hogwarts.

Ron jabbed him in the ribs. “I’ll say. I suppose the greasy git does know what he’s doing...” Ron made a face at the admission and Harry laughed, successfully pushing away all the bad thoughts that had been plaguing him and began to enjoy simply being back at Hogwarts.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along! He’s really not as bad as we used to think.” Even if he does overreact sometimes... Harry added silently. I suppose he was just worried about me. It’s not like he hasn’t done something he didn’t mean before because of that. A shadow fell over Harry and he glanced up, his eyes travelling to McGonagall’s disapproving face.

“Mr Snape,” her mouth twisted slightly as she said his last name and Harry’s stomach twisted with it, wondering what on Earth he had managed to do this time. “You should already know that snakes are not permitted as pets at Hogwarts. Besides, don’t you already have an owl?”

Harry glanced down at Salem, who had climbed out of his pocket and curled around his wrist to see what was going on. Harry thought fast. “Oh, umm, well... he’s not really mine. He’s my dad’s and he asked me to look after Salem for him...” He paused, hoping that she was buying it, but pretty sure that it was already a lost cause.

Salem glared up at her and hissed in anger; for once the sound translated just as everyone else must hear. Harry gulped and gently stroked Salem’s head, hoping to calm his pet before he did something unforgivable.

“Mr Snape, you truly do not expect me to believe...”

“You should, Professor McGonagall.”

Harry jumped and spun around in place to find his father standing behind him, nearly falling off the bench in surprise. Snape surreptitiously touched Harry’s shoulder without taking his eyes off McGonagall.

“Especially seeing as it is the complete truth.” Snape held his hand out for Salem and Harry quickly pushed the angry little snake into his father’s hand. Salem tried to snap at McGonagall a couple of times, but Snape refused to let him go. “I think you will find that there are no restrictions to the animals a professor can keep. Good day.” With a sharp nod to McGonagall and the gaping Gryffindors behind her, and another brief squeeze of Harry’s shoulder, he swept off down the Hall, the small, green serpent twined around one wrist.

McGonagall muttered something about talking to the Headmaster under her breath and strode off as well. Harry sighed in relief and turned back to his meal, his spirits lifting as he realised Snape had stood up for him. It must have all just been a misunderstanding.... He looked up to tell this to Ron and Hermione, and got the shock of his life as he realised the whole of Gryffindor table was glaring at him. Apprehensively, almost wishing he didn’t have to, he turned and surveyed the rest of the Hall. There were only a very few people not glaring or staring and Harry had to turn away as he felt chills start to run up his spine.

He sighed quietly and hunched over his food. Well, I knew they would work it out sooner or later...

oooOOOooo

Severus was startled by a knock on his office door that evening. Half-hoping that it would be Harry, he put down his quill next to the newest pile of parchment, laced his fingers together and barked, “Enter!

“Ah, Miss Adie,” he murmured as the door swung open to reveal the person standing there. “Do come in.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and shifted all the parchment to one side. The tall, normally confident young woman timidly stepped forward and sank into the offered chair.

When it became apparent that she was not going to say anything straight away, Severus conjured two cups of tea and floated one over to her, wondering if it would take just one meeting or several to get the truth of her presence in his office out of her.

She glanced at the cup and looked up in surprise, her eyes narrowing slightly as she contemplated him. “But... sir, this is just the way I like it.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his own cup, prompting her to do the same. “That is simply because I pay attention to my surroundings, which I know I have told you do countless times before in class.”

A small smirk came about her lips as she took another mouthful. “Really, sir? I can’t have been listening.”

Severus snorted and gestured towards her. “Of that I am most certainly aware. You had something that you wished to tell me.”

“Yes, sir.” She set her teacup down and started twirling a strand of her short, black hair around a finger. Severus waited. “You see...” She trailed off and stared at a glass jar somewhere above her Professor’s head. “It’s, well... I feel stupid telling you this, sir, but this summer my mother took ill. My father hasn’t been... coping well, and I know that if he doesn’t go back to work soon, I won’t be able to continue at Hogwarts.”

She sighed and dropped her hand, continuing in a remarkably even tone, “Mother says I should be grateful because he might have been one of the d-dead at the Ministry had he kept going to work. But how can I be grateful when it’s going to ruin my education? I... I don’t want to hate my father, but if he continues like this, I will have very little choice.”

She fell silent and met Severus’ gaze without flinching.

He leant forward in his chair, careful not to break eye contact, and softened his gaze. “Miss Adie, I daresay you are aware that Hogwarts has funds for students with, ah, less fortunate situations.”

She frowned. “My father is perfectly capable of work, though... and I have no wish to be seen as a charity case.”

Severus nodded to concede her point. “Then consider yourself very lucky that the current Headmaster of Hogwarts is Albus Dumbledore; he counts it as a personal affront if any student is forced to leave for any other reasons other than expulsion or because they want to. He has been known to even pay out of his own pocket to keep students here, but in no way should you think of this as charity. He thinks of it as his personal duty to make sure every student under his care receives a full education. Rest assured, short of the Dark Lord taking it upon himself to storm and destroy the castle, I will personally make sure that you are able to take all of your NEWTs.”

The girl still looked a little dubious, but if there was one thing a Slytherin understood, it was the obligation of duty. “Really?”

“My word as a Slytherin, Miss Adie.”

She sighed and flopped back in her chair. “Good. Because I...”

Her words were cut off by another knock at the door. Severus frowned. Who...? “One moment, Miss Adie. Enter.”

The door inched open to reveal Harry and a tightness Severus didn’t know he’d had in his chest loosened.

“I... um. I can come back at a better time if you’re busy now?”

How he’d managed to turn his last sentence into such a plaintive question Severus could not fathom. “Come in, Mr Snape,” he said firmly and stood up, noticing Adie jump a little at the name from the corner of his eye.

“Come with me.”

Nervously, Harry followed Severus to the back of his office, fidgeting with the cuffs of his robes as he went. Severus sighed. I thought I’d weaned him out of that habit. No matter...

He pressed his palm against a stone wall and allowed Hogwarts to read his magical signature, grabbing Harry’s hand and pressing it down next to his to add the boy to the wards a he did so. The wall gave a soft groan as a three foot wide gap of shelving and stone melted away to reveal the entrance to Severus’ private rooms.

He gave Harry a soft push. “Wait in there and touch nothing.”

The opening closed just as Harry turned to give Severus a truly worried look. Severus snorted – it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything to lay aside Harry’s fears until he’d got rid of the Slytherin girl – and turned back to his inquisitive student. “I am afraid we shall have to cut our meeting short. However, my door is always open to you and I do hope that your concerns have been laid to rest in the mean time.”

She gave a brief nod, but was still mostly preoccupied with trying to stare over his shoulder.

Severus tsked in disapproval, feeling the results of a full day of classes begin to settle on his shoulders. “Yes, Miss Adie?”

She at least had the grace to flush and avert her eyes briefly before trying to satisfy her curiosity. “Does this mean that the rumours are actually true, sir? Is he really your son?”

“Yes. The former Potter is now officially a Snape and I have the dubious honour of having a son in Gryffindor.” They smirked at each other for a moment before Severus’ eyes darkened. “That said, I would like you to make it perfectly clear to the other Slytherins that he is my child in every sense and that I will not reaction kindly if any of them choose to antagonise him. Is that understood?”

Adie nodded quickly. “Yes, Professor. Perfectly.” She quickly set down her teacup and left, pausing only to shoot a slightly incredulous look at her Professor. Severus glowered, making her back away and shut the door without further comment; he could only hope that his fearsome reputation and respect among the Slytherins would be enough to prevent the title ‘bastard’ from being added to Harry’s name. One thing was for certain: there would be hell to pay if it was.

As the door clicked shut, immediately locking against anyone not added to the wards, Severus turned and hurriedly made his way to the not-so-secret entrance to his quarters. Now, finally, he’d be able to talk to Harry about whatever had happened in the day’s class... maybe even rescind the punishment to something more acceptable.

Severus winced as he remembered; at the time he had been so relieved that he hadn’t struck out physically, he hadn’t stopped to consider the ramifications of his actions until much later. Taking away flying, Harry’s one true pleasure, from a grieving boy was not the brightest thing he could have done. Ah, I’ve only been a father for three days and already I’ve made a mess of it. How did I manage to convince myself that I was capable of doing this?

Just inside the doorway of the sitting room, he found Harry where he had left him, hands jammed defiantly underneath his armpits. He didn’t seem to have heard Severus enter, but it became apparent a moment later what he was doing.

Severus sighed again and shook his head in exasperated amusement as he walked over to stand beside Harry. The boy’s shoulders hunched even further, and, in defiance, he used his magic to flip yet another page of the book lying on the table in front of him.

“You know, Mr Snape, it would be more prudent to ignore the book that got you into trouble in the first place.”

Harry huffed slightly and glared accusingly up from under his lashes.

To his chagrin, Severus found himself lowering his eyes, as guilt tried to claw its way up his throat. Despite having started to care for Potter way before this whole Shadow business had come to light, Severus was feeling extremely unsettled by their sudden, revealed relationship; he had never been one to try to become particularly close to anyone and now, impossibly, he had a son.

Part of him was still expecting this to be part of some huge prank that Potter had set up to hurt him, and so naturally he had tried to push away the closeness at the first opportunity, regardless of how much time they had spent building their relationship that summer without the knowledge. The past few weeks at the Manor, he had still been able to pretend that it was all part of an elaborate fantasy, but now they were back at Hogwarts, back in cold, harsh reality, where the familiarity they had worked so hard to achieve could be shattered in an instant.

It was always the same; Severus would let his temper get the better of him and feel complacent about the decision for a while afterwards, and then, a few days later, sick guilt would come crawling in. It had been what had happened with joining the Death Eaters, and it had been what had happened now with Harry, but no longer. Severus would be a good father to Harry even if it killed him, starting now.

“My apologies at my earlier inconsiderate behaviour, Mr Potter. It was... ill-played of me to punish you for your rash actions while ignoring my own.”

Harry huffed again and scowled at the floor. “You haven’t called me Harry once since we came back. Not once,” he muttered, not seeming to take any notice of the previous statement.

Severus steeled himself, reached out and gently touched his hands to his son’s shoulders, turning the boy towards him. Harry tried to shrug them off, but Severus wouldn’t let go. “Harry, I punished you in anger once before, which was something I promised never to do again. I apologise.”

Harry succeeded in shrugging him off and backed away slightly. “It’s just, well, do you even want me as your son anymore? ‘Cos I’ll understand if you don’t...”

“Harry.” Severus touched Harry’s chin and brought the green eyes up to meet his own, swallowing down his painful reluctance of revealing anything about his true feelings and motivations. It was his duty now to get this right, besides, he would never forgive himself if Harry turned away from him. “Never say that, Harry. I want you as my son, but I have never had a child of my own to look after before now. I have always put my temper first, which while that is fine with dealing with all the other students, it simply will not work in a situation like ours.”

Harry still looked uncertain, so Severus beckoned him towards the rest of his living quarters. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”

Severus led the way while Harry followed him listlessly. It was only when Severus opened the door on the far side of the lounge did the boy seem to be holding back curiosity.

“Go on, have a look.”

Harry stepped forward, peeped in and gasped. “But- but, this is...”

“Your room, yes.” Severus shifted, already uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

The boy stared up at him, confused. “Does this mean I’m welcome here, then?”

“You are always welcome wherever I am, Harry. I have a nasty temper but that does not mean I have not come to... care for you.” Severus was cut off when Harry suddenly turned and grabbed him around the middle. Severus stared down in amazement, not entirely certain why he was suddenly being hugged after all the previous animosity. “Harry, what...?”

“I’m sorry,” a voice mumbled from his chest. “I really am. About what I said earlier and pretending not to care that I took the book out in public. I, I just was really angry you were treating me like a child, and then that made you angrier and I really shouldn’t have taken the book without your permission and I’m sorry...”

“Harry,” Severus sighed, awkwardly placing his hand on the back of his son’s head and effectively cutting off the flow of words. “Apology accepted. However, I am sure we know that we both overreacted to the situation. From now on, I would like you to tell me if you do not think I have my temper in check when I give out a punishment. Would that be acceptable?” He felt a nod. “Very well. Then I think we should reconsider your current one in a few moments, but there is something I would like to ask you first.”

He tried to get the boy to look at him, but Harry just burrowed deeper into his robes, so he eventually gave up and started speaking slowly and clearly, “I think there is something else bothering you, correct? Otherwise I know your reaction would have been less volatile, no matter how bad your reprimand might have been. After all, no student has ever had the courage to call me ‘a sick bastard’ to my face before.”

Harry stiffened again and tried to pull away, but this time, Severus wouldn’t let him. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean...”

Severus dropped his hand to Harry’s back and awkwardly rubbed the shoulder-blades a little. “Harry, I know you didn’t, but you did not answer my question. What is the matter?”

Another tense moment passed before Harry blew out a breath and slumped against Severus. “I miss Shadow,” he whispered, his voice hitching a little. “I mean really,” another hitch, “really miss him.”

Severus couldn’t help himself after that, and pulled Harry into a tight hold as the boy shivered against him. All he could hope now was that this meant he hadn’t lost as much of Harry’s trust as he had first thought.

Harry sat curled on the sofa, occasionally sipping from the large mug of hot chocolate resting on his knee. He was still feeling a little squirmy about losing his control around Snape so soon after their fight. He should have been able to keep it together, to ignore the emotional pain he was in these days and ignored the need to be listened to. After all, how many years had he been forced to look after himself now? Too many, and yet, he had told Snape what was wrong the moment the man had asked.

He had only come down to the dungeons to ask for Salem back and had somehow managed to involve himself with trying to apologise properly to the man.

Snape’s words still echoed in his head; “It is all right to feel grief. It is all right to feel pain when someone close to you is seemingly lost forever. The only way any one of us can get through situations like this is by remembering the idea that one day, though we will forever miss them, the pain will start to lessen and we will recall the good parts with contentment...”

Harry had had the distinct impression that the man had been talking about someone other than Shadow when he had said these words, for though he had been eloquent as ever, there had been an underlying strain to his voice that made Harry stay still and listen to what he was saying. In fact, he had been very surprised that Snape had said the words at all, even though the man hadn’t looked at him once all through. There was definitely more to Snape than could be expected.

Following much thought on the matter, he had come to the conclusion that he trusted Snape’s judgement far more than seemed healthy to him. After all, adults couldn’t be trusted, full stop. They had proved this over and over again in the past. And yet, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that Snape was on his side, no matter what kind of nasty things the man said or did.

It was very unsettling. 

Harry sighed and slouched back further into the couch. Every now and then he glanced up at his father, who was sitting across from him in the large, blue chair to the right of the fire. The man was staring fixedly into the flickering flames, clearly lost in thought.

Harry cleared his throat. “I still don’t like what you did, you know.”

Snape glanced up, pinning Harry’s gaze with his own. “I know, Harry.”

“I mean, I know you said you’d change the punishment and everything, but I still don’t like you for what you did.”

A slight curl of amusement settled around the man’s lips. “I know, Harry.”

Harry scowled a little. “This isn’t funny! You were so unfair!”

These words produced an outright snort from Snape. “Really? I never would have noticed if you hadn’t pointed it out.” Snape’s eyes seemed to darken a little. “And as I said before, I am sorry, but you should realise that what you did was very dangerous and foolhardy. If you had relaxed your guard for even one minute, one of your friends could either be missing a limb or be horribly scarred. In the Wizarding World, it is the innocuous things that are often what cause the most damage.”

Harry hung his head a little and stared intently at the mug in his hands. “Yeah, I realise that now... at the time I just thought it would be a cool way to show them who my real family was. And... I suppose I was trying to show off just a little... you know, taking the book from right under your nose.”

He thought he heard Snape sigh a little. “We have all done foolish things in our lives for the hope of personal gain.” He looked up in time to see Snape stare in his direction. “However, I expect you to learn from this situation and put this new knowledge to good use in the future. Which brings us to the question...” Snape leaned back even further into his chair and pressed his forefingers to his upper lip, “What am I to do with you?”

Harry felt like squirming, but he forced himself to sit up straight and keep looking Snape in the eye. “You’re asking me to decide?”

“I would be... interested to hear your opinion of an appropriate punishment.”

Oh hell... “You’re enjoying this!” Harry accused.

Snape laced his fingers together and seemed to contemplate them. “Not in the slightest.”

“Whatever that’s supposed to mean...” Harry grumbled. “All right. I suppose making me look for mistakes and possible accidents in Quidditch matches was a good idea, but I could do that just as well from my broom, so you didn’t have to take it.”

“On the contrary, you needed something to give you a nasty shock, which I think I succeeded in giving, though that was probably not in the correct manner. However, we are not here to negotiate your original punishment, we are here to listen to what you might have to say on the matter.” Snape gave him a concerned look. “If you do not think you are up to the task...”

“No, I’m fine!” Harry cut across Snape, his ears heating up. Deciding my own punishment. God, this is embarrassing... “Maybe you could make me read up on what’s happened to people in the past who’ve tried to read the books.”

“No!” Snape’s sharp tone made Harry jump, and, noticing this, he gentled his tone. “That would be a particularly nasty trauma that I wouldn’t want to subject you too.”

Harry bristled. “I’ve fought and killed a Basilisk! I’m not about to faint at the sight of blood.”

“Nevertheless, it is still a rather different matter when you read about people being torn apart by these curses. People who you could identify with. Books like those are locked away in the most secure section of the Restricted Section for a reason, Potter!”

“OK, OK!” Harry relented, noticing that Snape was getting agitated. “Um, so, something else, then. I... well...”

Snape inclined his head towards Harry. “It’s harder than it appears, is it not. The facts, as I see them, are this: I am loath to give you any school punishment, as those always seem have such little effect on you during the year, physical chastisement is out, as well as is sending to your room like a small child without any supper.”

Harry gave his father a wary look. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

“I have... an idea at the very least. Come.” Snape stood abruptly and Harry jumped to his feet in reaction, almost sloshing hot chocolate everywhere.

“Warn me before you do something like that!” Harry muttered. He swore he could have heard Snape chuckle as he led him into a study-like room stuffed with books, parchment, quills and many peculiar-looking potions in fantastical-shaped bottles.

Snape held out a quill, inkpot and a few rolls of parchment, which Harry immediately took. He looked at them with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I thought you said that you didn’t want to use school punishments.”

“Certainly you make it rather difficult for any authority figure to impress rules on you, but I have decided to break the habit of a life-time and be optimistic.” Snape gestured towards a small table tucked away in the corner and, after a bit of fidgeting with arranging his supplies, Harry sat down.

“What am I going to write? And how many?” Harry quickly finished off the last of his hot chocolate before his father could take it away.

“Two hundred lines, each one including the sentence, ‘My habit of recklessly rushing into situations, with only the slightest prompting, is dangerous and ill-advised. From now on I must make the effort to think before I act whenever such an opportunity arises.’ This sentence will appear at the top of the parchment when you are ready to start so there is no need for mistakes. Do not try to cheat because, rest assured, I will know.”

Harry felt his eyebrows rise. That’s nowhere near the amount of what I thought he would make me write... There must be a catch.

“However...”

Thought so.

“I have noticed that your handwriting is still as appalling as it was when you started at Hogwarts. I want you to use these lines as practice and write them all in your best handwriting. No exceptions. This should give you sufficient time to consider the underlying message.”

“All two hundred?” Harry groaned. “That’s going to take weeks!”

Snape’s mouth twitched. “I doubt it would be that bad. Besides, I do want this to make something of an impression on you. When you have finished the first one hundred to my satisfaction, you may play Quidditch again, and when you have finished all two hundred, you can have your Firebolt back.”

Harry blinked up at Snape, stunned. “That... that can’t be all. I mean, you were so... so angry.”

“Trying to extend your punishment?”

Snape’s mouth had stretched into a full smirk when Harry yelped, “No!” almost before he’d finished speaking.

“Nevertheless, after you have finished your lines, I do wish for you to continue coming down here every evening you have free. It is about time that I started training you in how to use your mature magic.”

“Really?” Harry gasped, unable to find the words to express his sudden delight. “Because that’s... I think... Oh, awesome!”

“Start your lines, Potter,” Snape said, rolling his eyes. “I will let you know when it is half an hour to curfew.”

Harry bit his lip. “Actually, sir, I was wondering... Could I just... instead?”

Snape gave him an odd look. “As strange as it sounds, I do actually have an inkling of what you’re trying to ask.” He sighed. “I shall just tell McGonagall that the reason you have not returned to Gryffindor Tower was because you wished to try out your new room, shall I?”

Harry smirked. “She’s going to be so annoyed.”

Snape’s lips twitched. “Quite. However, we may not wish to test her temper any further this term. She can be very good at making one’s life a living hell.”

“How?”

Snape leant forward as though imparting a great secret. “Hair-balls.”

oooOOOooo

Severus slipped in to Harry’s room to see if the boy was asleep, and stood in the darkness for a couple of minutes, watching his son breathe. It was such a relief to know that the boy was safe and, if not happy, then coping better than he had been. He couldn’t quite bring himself to regret handing out the harsh punishment in the first place, seeing as any other course of action might not have led to this point.

Harry might have suffered in silence for weeks over Shadow, struggling to hide it but becoming more and more depressed, and Severus would not have noticed because the school environment did not allow him to give his full attention to his son as he had over the summer. Having exacerbated Harry’s emotions to the point of meltdown could possibly have saved the boy a lot of pain in the long run.

Severus certainly hoped so.

And what was certain, was that from now on he was going to do his damndest to make sure he did this right.

However, no matter how dangerous what Harry did had been, he was certainly never going to tell the child that if anyone had been damaged by the book, it would have meant a five year stay in Azkaban for Severus. When he had said he was directly responsible for the family heirlooms, he had meant it literally.

The boy didn’t need that kind of guilt on his conscience.

Reaching inside the top pocket of his robes, Severus pulled out the small, sleepy snake and slowly slipped it into Harry’s uncurled fingers, which unconsciously tightened a little around the tiny creature.

“Watch over him for me, Salem,” he whispered into the dark and could have sworn he heard a drowsy hiss in reply. Touching Harry’s hair once gently, he turned and left the room to go to his own bed, relieved that tonight’s drama was finally over.

oooOOOooo

Well, Shadow thought as he looked down at the small cat playfully batting at his shoes, at least it wasn’t an elephant.

Actually, now that he’d had a chance to look more closely at it, it seemed to resemble something more like an extremely small lion cub or some other spawn of big cat. All Shadow could know for sure was that it was about mid-calf height, playful and almost irritatingly cute.

Oh, and it was pink. Very pink.

Of course, he reflected ruefully, this could mean that I’ve finally gone ‘round the twist. 

The lion-tiger creature mewed up at him and promptly bit down on his shoe again, this time managing to puncture the rather shabby leather with its needle-sharp teeth.

“Ow! Don’t do that!”

The pink thing sat back on its haunches and looked up at him as if to say, Who? Me? It was, Shadow hated to admit, nearly impossible to stay angry at. Plus, it did have the endearing factor that it was the first living thing he’d seen for weeks. Sighing, he crouched down and regarded it more closely. The creature stared back.

Yep, Shadow thought, it is just as pink this close. But who am I to complain about the colours of creatures from other worlds?

“Hey, there.” He put out his hand for the creature to sniff, which it promptly ducked under for a scratch behind the ears. “I’m Shadow. I wonder who you are...”

The creature’s fur seemed almost to crackle and shift under his fingers, as though imbued with some strange energy. This close, Shadow could now see that its ears were pointed instead of rounded, and that they both had long, red tufts sprouting out of the ends. The tail had a similar tuft, and the lion-tiger’s eyes were completely black.

To his surprise, Shadow felt a small, metal tag catch against his fingers as he gently ran his hand over the right ear. Nothing was visible to the eye, but there was undoubtedly something there.

“Huh. What’s this?”

Carefully, he caught the object between finger and thumb and scrutinised the invisible space for a minute, the cat creature remaining obligingly still while he did so and slowly but surely, the air shimmered between his fingers, revealing a shiny, silver oblong disc upon which writing was engraved elegantly.

Shadow squinted to read it and felt his eyebrows shoot up. “’Accident?’ What kind of person would name their pet ‘Accident’?”

The cat gave him a look as if to say, ‘For God’s sake, I’m PINK.’

“Fair point,” Shadow conceded, trying not to think about the fact that he was having a conversation with an animal, and flipped the disc over to read the other side. “‘If found, do NOT feed. You’ll never get the little bugger to leave you alone otherwise.’ O-K.” Shadow gave Accident a look. “Your master is strange.”

Accident rolled his eyes and nodded, and Shadow flinched back in surprise. “Holy shit! The cat can understand me!”

‘The cat’ made a sound like Mmrrroww before turning and bounding away into the whiteness.

“Wait!” Shadow yelped, in a panic, suddenly realising that if he lost Accident, he would be all alone again. “Wait for me! Don’t get offended!” He sprinted after the disappearing shape and sighed in relief as he saw it stop and turn back towards him.

Accident seemed to stand still and watch him approach, but there was something funny about the way that the cat was looking at him which made him slow to a stop while he was several metres away. What the...? 

Shadow froze and stared at the animal’s paws. Icy terror gripped his gut as he realised that they were no longer made of flesh, but of flame.

What’s going on? What’s happening? What...? His thoughts were cut off as he looked back at the creature’s eyes. They were red.

Even as every instinct screamed at him to run, Shadow found himself frozen in place, the slithering fear of the unknown creeping up his spine and frightening him much more than the animal in front of him ever had. Shadow always knew things. To him, it was as instinctual as breathing, and suddenly he was trapped on his own with an unknown creature and he didn’t know what to do.

Still unmoving, he watched as the flames spread slowly over every inch of the creature’s body and the best that Shadow’s mind could come up with was; where the heck am I going to get a bucket of water in a place like this?

Suddenly, the fire creature seemed to expand outward. Between one blink and the next it grew from its previous size to that of a fully grown tiger. Shadow swallowed hard, limbs trembling slightly. I waited too long. There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to outrun that.

The flames died and Shadow was left staring nearly eye to eye with the huge predator. Its eyes were completely black once again and Shadow really had to wrench his gaze away from them to study the rest of the body, trying to see whether or not it was going to pounce.

Long, sharp fangs curved down from its upper jaw to about an inch below its chin and Shadow found himself wincing just to look at them. Those have got to hurt....

The powerful muscle and sinew of the creature’s body was covered by a coat of a dark gold. Shadow’s fear-sharpened eyes could even see light grey stripes arranged out at regular intervals throughout the fur. Its claws were a gun-metal grey and looked sharp enough to rend meat from bone without the slightest bit of effort.

Shadow’s mouth went dry as he saw that the creature had drawn back its lips in a snarl. He tried to stumble backwards as the powerful predator’s muscles bunched, but found himself mute and frozen as it sprung towards him.

A powerful force slammed into him and knocked him off his feet, and a heavy weight settled on his chest. Shadow’s eyes squeezed shut. This is it; this is where it ends...

“Ahhh!” Shadow cried out, the shock of having a rasping, wet tongue licking his cheek jolting him out of his silence.

He opened his eyes and stared up in amazement at the huge creature which was purring quite happily and nuzzling its face to his. The unused adrenaline slowly seeped out of his limbs, making him feel rubbery and not quite connected to reality. In fact, he could almost have sworn that he could have heard footsteps nearby.

A deep voice sounded out through the haze, “Honestly, Aki. What the blazes have you done now?” A figure appeared slowly appeared from between the swirling mists and Shadow found that he could only stare, dumbfounded, at the seventeen year old form of Severus Snape.

Well, if it’s a hallucinogenic in the mist causing all of this, then I must be completely and utterly stoned.

The Snape gestured towards Accident apologetically. “I’m sorry about him, he can’t to resist showing off. He’s harmless really, unless...” Snape raised an eyebrow, “you don’t want to kill me do you?”

It only took two attempts for Shadow to find his voice. “Um, n-no. No, I don’t.”

“Excellent! Then we have nothing to worry about then.” Snape gave a sudden grin as Shadow gaped. Accident had stepped off his chest, but he found himself still unable to move.

“Umm, forgive me for asking, but...”

“Who am I?” The Snape had stepped forward and stroked along the darkened ridge in the middle of Accident’s back. Shadow couldn’t help but notice that there was still a faint line of fire running down the ridge. Strangely, Snape didn’t seem to be hurt by it.

“Yeah, well, yeah...” Shadow certainly hoped that he would be able to regain his vocabulary skills before long. As well as his motor skills.

“My name,” Snape gave a dramatic flourish, but spoiled it by grinning, “is Kai Evander Snape. Most people mix me up with my father.” He strode over to where Shadow was lying and helped hoist him to his feet, seemingly unperturbed by the younger boy’s constantly stunned expression.

“Your father?” Shadow gaped, barely able to stop himself from sinking to the ground again. For my first conversation with another human being besides Harry, Snape and Dumbledore, I’m getting the feeling I’m not doing too well....

“Well,” Kai shrugged, “in an alternate reality far... far away, I’m his son. I’m a Mage, so I wander between the Universes a lot, making a lot of the locals confused. Born Mages have a different kind of power from everyone else,” Kai explained, seeing Shadow’s still-confounded expression. “Come, share my fire and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Shadow hesitated. “I would tell you that my mother said not to go with strangers, but... she never did and you’re not really a stranger, are you? Besides, I don’t think I’d be able to get far if I tried to run.” He gestured at Accident.

Kai smiled and beckoned Shadow to follow him, which Shadow did, but only because there might be a slim chance that the other boy knew the way out of this place. To tell the truth, both Kai and his strange pet scared Shadow quite a lot.

“You’d be right about that,” Kai said ruefully as they walked. “Aki can be pretty darn fast when he wants to be. You needn’t worry about that anyway, I’m generally considered to be a ‘good’ Mage.” Kai smirked. “Well, unless you count the fact that I think it’s funny to push my friends into lakes every now and again. Blame Maddeline. It’s all her fault.”

Intrigued despite himself, Shadow hurried to keep up with the older boy’s longer legs. “Who’s Maddeline?”

“Ah, never mind – my godmother – but that isn’t important. And anyway,” Kai gestured around them, “no lakes, so you’re safe.”

Shadow grinned and squinted up at the taller boy. If I stay friendly, he won’t have a reason to hurt me... not that I think he would, he hasn’t so far, but there’s just something that feels... wrong... about him. “So, alternate realities, huh?”

Kai nodded fervently, seeming to get into his stride of story-telling. “Yup. You wouldn’t believe the number of alternative Snapes out there. Or of any other person you might know.”

“Really? Ever meet anyone like me?”

“No, not yet, but I’ll be able to tell the next person who looks like you that I have! It’s bound to happen sometime. Hey...” Kai abruptly stopped walking and brushed aside some of the hair covering Shadow’s forehead. Shadow tried not to flinch back. “You aren’t called Harry by any chance, are you?”

Shadow reached his hand up to feel the lightning bolt scar before shaking his head. “No... But I’m kind of, well...” he trailed off, not sure what to say. “I’m just Shadow.”

Kai patted him on the shoulder and gave him a gentle push to keep walking, Shadow stiffened at the peculiar twinge he felt – like his arm had suddenly cramped violently to get away from Kai’s touch without Shadow’s conscious permission. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Shadow. Sounds like you’ve got an even better story than I have. Let’s hear it, then!”

Shadow shook his head stubbornly, still trying to convince himself that if Kai wanted to do him harm, he would have done it already. Power seemed to fairly radiate out from the other boy. “No. You said you’d tell me about Mages first.” Shadow suddenly gasped as he looked around himself, completely distracted from his wariness.

The mist of the area he’d just walked into had receded and the floor had completely flattened out; it made Shadow feel like he was in the middle of a great cathedral. Right in the very centre was a brightly burning fire.

“Awesome,” Shadow breathed as he hurried forward and crouched down beside it. He’d never seen a real fire before up close – and he didn’t count the magical fire that Aki had used to transform. “Wow, that’s amazing...” Not thinking clearly, he stretched one hand out to the flames, only to have it caught in a larger, fine-boned one and pulled away. The same cramping sensation as before happened, sending a spasm through his forearm, but Kai let go soon enough.

“Careful,” the older boy said as he settled down beside him. “You’re a strange one, aren’t you? Magic born, but never seen fire before....”

Shadow squirmed a little at his foolishness, but was determined to brush it aside. “So, Mages?”  I’m sure there’ll be something Kai knows that could help me get back home....

The light seemed to darken around them as Kai sat up straighter. It only took Shadow a moment to realise that the other boy was somehow making that happen on purpose. “Hey!” Shadow felt pleased with himself that he was beginning to get the hang of acting in the same relaxed manner he did as if he were around Harry when inside he so clearly felt the opposite. “Stop that!”

“Sorry.” Kai grinned unrepentantly, but the light went back to normal. “Sometimes I can’t resist winding people up. It’s all...”

“...Maddeline’s fault. Yeah, I get it. Story? Please?” Shadow demanded cheerfully, biting his tongue and trying not to shiver. Just stay confident, just stay confident....

“Of course.” Kai cleared his throat and laced his fingers together, peering at Shadow over the top of them. “Born Mages are quite unlike any other creature in existence. We’re like a whole different, mutant species to ourselves, but a Mage can be born from any type of sentient being at all. What makes us so different? Our magic.”

Kai held his left hand, palm up, about a foot away from Shadow’s face, and suddenly it felt very like déjà vu of the day Harry gave Shadow speech. A small ball of light, no bigger than a golf ball formed in Kai’s hand, its colour very similar to the pale, orange light that can sometimes be seen at dawn.

Shadow shivered and leaned away. Unlike Harry’s magic, there felt like there was something inherently very wrong with the ball of power in front of him, like it wasn’t really there at all and, at the same time, was more real than Kai or Aki or any other person Shadow had laid eyes on in his admittedly short life.

The orb vanished, and Shadow was left staring at a suddenly sombre Kai.

“Spooky, isn’t it? And just think; I have to live with this stuff inside me every day. Makes going to classes a bit maddening at times.”

Shadow wasn’t really listening. “What is that stuff? I, I mean... God... what the hell is it?”

Kai’s already black eyes seemed to darken. “My soul.”

Shadow felt like he’d swallowed his tongue. His skin crawled as he tried to lean even further away without being obvious. “You... you, what?” he choked. “Your soul?”

“Mmhmm.” Kai seemed to want to brush off the uncomfortable atmosphere that had descended around them with flippancy. “Somehow, through some weird genetic mutation, or something, a person’s magic becomes his soul... or his soul becomes his magic, making them a Born Mage. Nobody really knows which.

“What it does mean, though, is that a Mage is the only being you can destroy utterly. Everyone else goes on to whatever afterlife or reincarnation there is, but if there is Mage powerful enough to shatter the magic of another, or even draw the other’s power into their own body, then the defeated Mage ceases to exist completely.”

The fire suddenly seemed very cold, and all Shadow could think about was how much he wanted to go back to the place he had come from and completely forget about the strange new world he had become lost in. Aki, smaller again, mewed softly and climbed up into his lap, his strange, static-y fur feeling oddly comforting beneath Shadow’s fingers.

“But, hey, there’s a good side as well!” Kai was smiling again, and Shadow felt himself relax marginally. He was no Mage – the fear of possible oblivion was Kai’s to deal with – and Shadow was slowly coming to convince himself of the fact that there might be an afterlife for him after all. Like he had told Kai, he was just Shadow, not a piece of Harry, not an imagining in a mirror, just Shadow.

“So, are you going to tell me? Or are you just going to leave me hanging in the doom and gloom?” he asked, attempting to sound cheeky.

It must have worked because Kai laughed. “God forbid, hey? Mages, because of what we are, are ‘officially’ allowed to do whatever we want. No laws, no customs, just us. The Universes just seem to want to ignore us as much as possible – something to do with our weird magic. They give every other ‘normal’ person an interactive experience, but we Mages can actually sometimes feel ourselves being shunted to the side, like... like we’re a live wire or something that they don’t want to touch. They don’t want anything to do with us because they know we can end their existence like that!” Kai snapped his fingers, making Shadow jump a little.

“Bad Mages, good Mages, there’s no one out there able to stop us except our own kind, so we do as we please and go where we please and only bother caring about what our family or coven might think – a coven is a group of Born Mages banded together. I think someone chose the name originally because they thought likening our kind to vampires was amusing...”

Kai seemed completely caught up in his own story and, despite himself, Shadow felt himself being drawn more and more into the world of Mages as he listened. It’s amazing. Better than any dungeons and dragons story that Harry’s ever read, but I’m certainly glad I’m not one of them. Especially considering....

“You keep talking about the ‘Universes’ as if they’re real people.”

Kai smiled and Shadow felt his jaw drop. “Oh, they are. Each one of them has their own different personality, different idiosyncrasies and different ways of dealing with their inhabitants. If you’re very lucky one day you might even get to see the spiritual manifestation of one... umm... that’s how they imagine they might look if they were humanoid or otherwise, and they project that image into the ‘real world’ when they want to talk to someone specifically. So far I’ve seen two, but once again, normal rules don’t seem to apply to me.”

Kai didn’t look very happy about this for some reason, but he brightened a second later. “Take this place for example. No one knows its true name and no one in living memory has seen it manifest, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t alive.”

Shadow’s hands stilled from stroking Aki’s ears. “What? This place? The Mirrorverse?”

Kai nodded. “I call it No Man’s Land, but as no one knows its name, it’s open to interpretation... The ‘Mirrorverse,’ you say? I heard a rumour that only those not truly alive could see mirrors that show other worlds. You’re not dead, are you?”

Shadow edged closer to the fire, eyeing the swirling mists with horror. “No... I used to be not quite alive though...” He bit his lip. “It’s alive, you say?”

Kai sighed and pulled Shadow’s arm away from where it was almost in the fire again. “Yes, alive. But if you want it to help you to wherever you’re going, you’re going to have to change your attitude.”

Shadow turned his wide eyes on Kai, the jittery feeling in his stomach getting even worse. “My attitude?”

Kai smiled and pulled a long staff of ebony wood out from where it had been resting on the fire other side of the fire. An orange orb the same colour as Kai’s magic with a silver dragon wrapped around it adorned one end. Shadow watched both Kai and the staff warily, his fingers unconsciously tightening in Aki’s coat.

“Yes, attitude,” Kai said nonchalantly, starting to carefully clean the dark wood. “Now, let me explain...”

It seems that, like many things, life only lets you resolve one problem if it has another to immediately put in its place. This had become a regular occurrence in Harry’s life, but in spite of this, it never failed to surprise him when it did it again.

oooOOOooo

“Stop drooling on the pillow and wake up, Potter.”

Harry hastily reached up and swiped away the evidence, eyes still closed. “M’not drooling.”

“Hmm. Be that as it may, you aren’t waking up either.”

“Mm’awake... Salem!” Harry shot up in bed and curled his hand around the little snake that had just slithered onto the pillow. “Hey there, when’d he give you back?”

“Last night,” Salem hissed happily. “He gave me a baby mouse first. Niccce.”

“Urgh.” Harry wrinkled his nose in fascinated horror. “Alive?”

Salem shook his head mournfully. “No, dead.”

Harry snorted. “Well, if you hadn’t pissed off McGonagall, we might have been able to persuade her to catch you a few live ones.”

Salem flicked his tongue disdainfully. “’I’ pissed her off? It was you who...”

“Charming as this indecipherable conversation may be, we do have to be in the Great Hall for breakfast in no more fifteen minutes.”

Harry jumped and looked up at his father guiltily. He had completely forgotten that the man had been standing there all along. “Umm... sorry, sir. I’ll be right up.”

Snape gave him a stern look, but Harry could tell that he didn’t really mean it. “You’d better, Harry.”

Harry waited until Snape was almost through the door before opening his mouth and calling out, “Professor?”

Snape stopped. “Yes?”

Harry paused, and then grinned unrepentantly at his surprised father. “Thanks for letting me sleep in, Dad.”

There was an inarticulate snarl and the door slammed shut. Snickering, Harry scrambled out of bed and started looking for his clothes, letting Salem – who was still hissing in amusement – settle across the back of his neck. In truth, the laughter was more a form of relief that coming back to Hogwarts hadn’t made them lose their previous relationship they had built over the summer. Snape’s reactions to Harry displaying affection were quickly becoming notorious to the boy during the holidays.

“Not sssad anymore?” hissed a soft voice in his ear.

Harry smiled at Salem. “Not so much anymore. Snape helped, but I still missss him.”

Harry saw Salem’s small head bob from the corner of his eye as he hurried into the bathroom. “I misss Boy-in-Mirror too. He named me. He was niccce.”

Harry snorted, even as he felt a twinge at the memory of who had named his snake. He deliberately avoided looking in the mirror over the sink. “And I’m not? I’m so flattered, Salem.”

“Potter! Classes are not going to wait for you.”

“Oops, coming!” Splashing cold water on his face, Harry scrabbled on the side of the sink for his glasses, remembered he didn’t need them, and walked out into the living room to meet an impatient Snape. “Good morning, sir.”

His father gave him an incredibly sour look before holding out a schoolbag that looked remarkably like his. Feeling a bit nervous – after all, the man had been rather unpredictable lately – Harry walked over and lifted the bag out of Snape’s grasp.

“Uh... thanks. Is this mine?”

“Obviously. Your charming Head of House was kind enough to pass it through the Floo earlier this morning.” Forget inch thick, this morning Snape’s sarcasm was a foot thick. Harry supposed that McGonagall was the cause of his father’s less than stellar mood now. It was a pity – he had seemed fine when he had woken Harry up.

At least Harry wasn’t the one he was angry with this time.

“Err... so, did she spit any of those hairballs at you, sir?” Harry hedged. He was quite certain that his father had by now permanently corrupted the way he viewed McGonagall. In fact, he had absolutely no idea how he’d be able to keep a straight face in Transfiguration later on.

The corner of Snape’s mouth twitched. “Thankfully, no.” His expression seemed to soften slightly when he glanced at Harry, but he could have imagined it. A moment later, Snape turned and gestured to a now-familiar black box – within which Harry was sure, was the Inheritance book.

“As you can see, I have put it away,” Snape said firmly. “I would appreciate it if you do not take it out again without my permission. Mainly for the reasons I have already explained but also because most families do not show their children the inside of such books until they are of age. There are certain... sections, that are less than pleasant.”

Snape seemed to be looking at him oddly and Harry shifted uncomfortably, uncertain why he was suddenly the focus of such scrutiny. Unless he thinks that I found one of those sections when I was reading it? Tch, I barely managed to read a paragraph before he came through the door. And before then, I’ve only really looked at the family tree... “All right, I promise. Shall we go?”

Snape glanced away and gave a sharp nod before gesturing for Harry to precede him. And now that it came down to it, Harry wasn’t entirely certain that he did want to go outside... the way the majority of the school had treated him yesterday was surely something to be avoided at all costs, wasn’t it? He wished he could tell Snape about it, listen to whatever the man’s advice on the subject would be, but there was no doubt that he would tell him to put up and deal with it.

But would he? a small voice in his head questioned. He didn’t say that about Shadow...

Harry shook his head firmly. Don’t be ridiculous. You aren’t a child anymore; he’d expect you to be able to cope with a little thing like this. After all, you have many times before.

“Harry?”

Harry started, realising that Snape was looking at him oddly again, which of course was to be expected seeing as he hadn’t moved an inch.

“Is there something concerning you?” Snape’s voice sounded sincere, but Harry cringed at the idea of appearing weak before his father. Again.

He thought quickly. “I was just wondering if you should take Salem again. I’m not allowed to have him, after all...”

Snape shook his head, almost looking amused. “Keep him with you, but make sure he stays out of sight. I daresay neither of us needs a certain Transfiguration teacher coming after us. Now come along, your friends must be waiting.”

Yeah, right. They’re probably thinking of as many ways as they can to avoid me. Not Ron and Hermione, of course, but plenty of others will be...

Harry hastened toward the quarters’ entrance to Snape’s office, put his hand on the handle, mentally bracing himself to face the sneering student population, opened the door... and immediately took a large step back – also accidently knocking into his father – when he saw who was standing directly outside.

Neville, already visibly shivering stepped further behind Ron and Hermione, and all three looked up at Snape with such trepidation that Harry almost started laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Uh... Hi, guys. Hi, Neville.” Harry felt his mouth beginning to stretch into a smile despite his best efforts.

Snape made a disapproving noise. “Wonderful though this little reunion may be, I would appreciate it if you got off my foot, Mr Potter,” he growled, grabbing Harry, pushing him to the side and striding off straight out through the open office door.

Harry was ready to bet money that none of his friends had noticed the man surreptitiously squeezing his shoulder as he did so.

Ron’s face was dark. “Listen, mate, I know you said you were fine, but say the word and we’ll go straight to Dumbledore and get you out of there!”

Harry let out a startled laugh. “Thanks, Ron, that’s good of you to say, but I’m fine. Really,” he stressed, seeing his friends’ dubious expressions. “He was just playing you. I mean, he’s not going to suddenly start being nice, is he? Can you imagine anyone taking him seriously then?”

“Actually...” Neville shuddered. “I think I would be too scared to even go to classes if that were the case.”

Harry considered. Neville did indeed have a point; the idea of Snape being as jovial Dumbledore on a good day sent chills down his spine. It just wasn’t in the man’s nature.

“True. Err... what you all doing down here anyway?”

“Oh, Harry!”

Harry looked over in time to see Hermione roll her eyes to heaven.

“The last thing you said to us was that you were going down to talk to Snape. Did you really expect us not to be worried when you didn’t come back?”

“Yeah,” Ron chipped in, “and the next thing we hear from McGonagall – who looked like she’d just swallowed a Filibuster, by the way – is that you’re spending the night down in the dungeons. What were we supposed to think? And it’s not as if we were able to sneak down after curfew to check if you were alright!”

“That didn’t stop Ron from trying though,” Hermione snapped, “and getting himself caught and receiving detention for a week!”

“Oh yeah?” Ron rounded on Hermione. “Well, what should we have done? Sit around like good, ‘ickle firsties while Harry was getting yelled at by Snape?”

“You were never a good, little first year, Ronald Weasley...”

Harry caught Neville’s eye and gestured at the door, even as he started edging past his two bickering best friends. Neville gave him a relieved grin and they slipped out of the office together, leaving the other two to their row. Harry idly wondered how long it would take before they noticed they were alone in Snape’s office.

“So, how bad was it at the Tower last night?” Harry asked lowly, quietly pleased that Neville, at least, had decided to ignore whose son Harry was.

“Pretty bad,” Neville whispered back – they were, after all, in Slytherin territory – as they started to ascend the dungeon staircase. “Dean and Seamus were sort-of OK seeing as they already knew you’d changed your appearance – and they know you fairly well anyway. But the younger years,” Neville shook his head in disbelief, “almost all of them were suddenly terrified of you... err...” Neville seemed to suddenly recall his own nervousness over the matter.

Harry smiled reassuringly, while trying not to trip up the stairs – he still hadn’t quite got the hang of his new body yet and stairs were always a trial. “S’OK, Neville. You have more reason than most not to like Snape.”

Neville grimaced, evidently remembering the Boggart. “Anyway, you do have some supporters there, but even they’re a bit uncertain.”

Harry nodded grimly. “Who are they? I take it the rest are against me.”

Neville held up his fingers and started ticking people off. “Colin Creevey – obviously – and his little brother, who’s just come to Hogwarts; Seamus, Dean, Ginny, the Quidditch team, a couple of the older years who are friends of the Quidditch team and, err, a few of Colin’s friends.”

Harry groaned loudly. “So most of the House hates me.”

“’Fraid so.” Neville looked very apologetic. “But don’t worry, I’ll stick with you. Ron and Hermione too, of course. Sorry there aren’t more: they just wouldn’t listen.”

Harry took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh as he climbed the last few steps to the Entrance Hall. “Not your fault. But, Neville, thanks for trying anyway, and for the support. I’m definitely going to need it.”

Neville gave a sympathetic smile before eyeing the doors leading to the Great Hall with trepidation. He stopped. “Listen, Harry... Snape didn’t give you too much of a hard time last night, did he? I wanted to go with Ron, but I didn’t want to get caught.”

“Seriously, it’s OK, Neville. Snape was fine...” Harry was cut off by hurrying footsteps running up the dungeon staircase behind them. Harry hid a grin. It looked like Ron and Hermione had finally worked out they had been left behind.

The first words Ron said as he gained the top of the stairs were, naturally, “What the bloody hell d’you do that for?” A couple of Ravenclaws coming down the Marble Staircase shot Ron an odd look, but the second they caught sight of Harry, their eyes widened and they hurried through the double doors leading to the Great Hall without a backward glance.

That can’t be good.

“Oh. Ah, listen, mate...”

“It’s OK, Ron. It’s not like this is any different from what happened in second year... You were saying?”

Ron looked slightly puzzled for a moment before rallying. “Yeah! What were you thinking? Me ‘n Hermione looked up and you’d just vanished and there were all these jars staring at us-”

“Jars don’t stare, Ronald!”

“-and so I thought it was some weird spell that Snape had cast,” Ron continued, paying no attention to Hermione, “that made you disappear – wouldn’t put it past the greasy git – so I grabbed Hermione and ran for it. Had to shut the door on the way out, ‘cos there’s no way of knowing what’s in there, and it locked itself behind us. If that isn’t proof of Dark magic, I don’t know what is!”

“Oh, and it couldn’t have been something like a self-locking charm that Snape put there so he wouldn’t have students sneaking into his office or quarters, could it?”

Ron was brought up short by that. Harry was almost disappointed – he had been enjoying Ron’s wild tale.

“Well, you were running just as fast as I was-”

“Only because-”

“Oh, give it a rest, you two.” Harry was all for being amused by their bickering, but now was not the time and the longer he put off entering the Great Hall, the more nervous he was becoming. “I want to get breakfast sometime this morning and Snape wouldn’t be too happy to hear you’d kept me from it.”

Both Ron and Hermione looked aghast.

“C’mon, guys.” He grinned at them and strode towards the Great Hall, wishing he didn’t want to fall back and hide behind them. The doors opened easily at his touch and the loud chatter echoing around the Hall was somewhat comforting.

Then, a sudden a whisper of, “There! There he is!” hissed around the tables and one by one they fell quiet, all of their occupants turning to stare at the four people standing in the entrance. Harry froze, his legs turning to jelly as he tried to stare down the whole of the Hogwarts’ population. A completely silent population.

He could hear Hermione hiss, “Harry!” in his ear repeatedly as she tried to tug him towards the Gryffindor table and Salem coiling tighter around his wrist, but he felt oddly detached as the adrenaline rose in him. But where could he hide? Who could he fight? Hogwarts was his home, and those inside his family.

Eyes flicking from face to stony face, he opened his mouth to say something, anything, and stayed completely silent.

A loud clunk echoed throughout the Hall, causing many to jump and look wildly around for the noise. Then, slowly, imposingly, a huge porridge tureen on the staff table tipped over and fell to the floor, the metallic sound as it moved slowly rising to a clattering crescendo that made Harry want to slam his hands over his ears to drown out the noise. As the last few ringing tones sounded throughout the room, the Hall seemed even quieter than it had been before, and everyone stared agape up at the staff table and the large mess on the floor.

“Whoops!” Dumbledore smiled cheerfully around at everyone in the Hall. “My hand must have slipped. How clumsy of me!”

A startled laugh broke out at the Hufflepuff table, followed closely by another from the Ravenclaws. Under cover of the shared mirth, Harry and his friends slipped to a section of the Gryffindor table only occupied by Ginny and the twins. Harry snatched several pieces of toast, shoved them in a napkin and started to leave again, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm which forced him back into his seat.

“Leaving us so soon, Harry?” Fred-or-George grinned.

“Alas! We are mortally offended by your callous disregard!” the other twin said, raising one hand in mock woe while cheerfully munching on forkful of scrambled eggs.

Harry rolled his eyes, but grinned despite himself. “Hey, guys.”

“So, tell us,” Fred/George muttered as the noise level in the Hall started to go down again, “are you really Snape’s spawn?”

Harry felt his eyebrows climb his forehead. Spawn? “Er, yeah. I guess I am.”

“Wicked!” the other hissed before lowering his voice even further, “Naturally, you’ll be included in the wards to Snape’s stores-”

“-and because we’ve been such good friends-” Fred/George picked up.

“Given you the Marauders Map, for example,” the second added in helpfully.

“-you’ll of course be completely OK with nicking a couple of ingredients for your old pals, Fred’n’George,” Fred – Harry’d decided – concluded.

Harry, however, was prepared for this. “No offence, but no bloody way,” he said, calmly munching on the toast he’d stored. “No hard feelings, right?”

George heaved a sigh. “It was worth a go.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to find our own way in... again!” Fred finished, stealing Harry’s toast with one hand and ruffling Harry’s hair with the other as he stood to leave with George. “See ya, Harry.”

Harry snorted and gathered his books just as the first few post owls started winging their way into the Great Hall, ignoring the glares from the other Gryffindors. “I’m going too. See you in Herbology, yeah?”

Hermione gave him a worried look, but Neville got up without another word and followed him out, allowing the other two to finish their breakfast.

They walked in silence, which was just fine with Harry; his head was buzzing with thoughts about all that had happened over the past few days and he almost found himself wishing for silence and peace of the Manor. Snape had never demanded anything more than Harry’s presence at meals and for him to stay out of Snape’s space. The sudden and constant demands of school once again was making it hard to adjust, and trying to fit Snape-from-the-Manor and Snape-from-school together was enough to give anyone a headache.

Classes passed slowly but the lectures were a bit of blur. Harry was too busy trying to ignore the few glares attempting to dig holes in the back of his skull. Conversely, none of Harry’s friends wanted to leave him alone, somehow managing to have at least one of them at his side at all times. It was probably just as well. A quite a few of the older years looked like they wanted cause trouble, but Harry couldn’t help but feel more than a little stifled.

In fact, it wasn’t until just before the last class of the day – Divination for Harry and Ron – that Harry finally managed to get some space by pretending that he needed to go to the bathroom.

Ducking out of sight down a corridor, Harry breathed a deep sigh of relief and shifted his bag to the other shoulder, sorely tempted to miss out on going to the class all together.

I wonder what ‘Father’ would say about that. But it’s not as if it’s a particularly important subject anyway.

Slowly walking down the corridor towards the bathroom – it wouldn’t do for Hermione to double back and find him loitering – Harry glanced around and realised he wasn’t as alone as he had first thought.

A girl was curled tightly around herself on one of the large window seats, and now that Harry was paying attention, he could hear her soft sobbing filling the corridor. Stepping closer, Harry suddenly realised that she was a girl from his own year – Susan, Susan Bones. Feeling awkward that she hadn’t yet heard his approach, he took a few more paces forward and stopped a couple of feet away.

“Susan?”

The crying girl didn’t look up.

“Susan, what’s the matter?” Harry tentatively reached out and touched his hand to her shoulder.

She jerked back and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Oh. It’s you,” she sniffed, turning her face away to look back out the window again.

Harry sighed. It had been like this all day. Ever since the school had finally put two and two together about Harry being both Snape’s son and Harry Potter, it had been worse than second year. People had actually started turning and walking the opposite way down any corridor Harry was in. It was frustrating, annoying and maddening, and there was absolutely nothing Harry could do about it.

He didn’t want to go to his father about it – that would appear weak and Harry had had quite enough of disappointing Snape, thank you very much. Besides, he still wasn’t entirely sure the man wouldn’t just tell him to get on and deal with it. Despite Snape’s revised punishment and apology, Harry was still feeling a little jumpy around the man.

Most of the rest of the staff were indifferent to Harry, some even going so far as to give him a few cold glances of their own, so it was not as if they would listen to him. Only the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor seemed to be unaffected by Harry’s change in status, though Harry had caught her squinting at him with interest a couple of times through her oval glasses.

However he wasn’t about to talk to her – he barely knew anything about her apart from the fact that she was quiet, knew what she was talking about and had spent two years in Bulgaria after attending Hogwarts herself.

And, well, this was hardly the kind of thing Harry could go to the Headmaster about, especially as Snape had said that the old man was leading the war against Voldemort. So Harry was prepared to grin and bear it.

“Yes, me,” he said firmly. “I was just wondering why you were upset and if there was anything I could do to help?”

“Oh.” Susan bit her lip and refused to look at him. “Thanks, Harry, but, but...” She looked down and whispered to her knees, “There’s nothing you can do.”

“I can listen.” Harry sat down on the window ledge beside her, wondering if she would find an excuse to get up and leave.

She didn’t.

“It’s nothing important,” Susan mumbled, pulling her knees closer. “It’s just... I found out that Death Eaters have probably kidnapped my aunt last night. I was a bit upset...”

Death Eaters... Voldemort’s followers. Harry felt a spike of anger, but quickly covered it by patting Susan’s hand, wondering if his father felt this awkward while comforting him.

“It is important, Susan. A member of your family’s just disappeared, of course you’re going to be upset. Do you... know what happened?”

Susan nodded, scrubbing tear tracks off her face. “Yeah. They attacked the Ministry again – said in the Prophet this morning – only this time with spell that creates fire demons, s’called Fiendfyre... They don’t burn out until whoever conjured them wishes it – they attack anyone in their path,” she added, seeing Harry’s confusion. “Aunt Amelia didn’t stand a chance,” she whispered softly, sadly. “She’s either been kidnapped or burned to nothing by now.”

She tugged an old handkerchief from her pocket and scrubbed at her face. “The Prophet said that this time everyone’s abandoned the Ministry for good. They’ve had enough of the constant attacks, so they’ve fled.” Susan shivered and said in a very hushed tone, “I hope You-Know-Who doesn’t use it for a base or anything. There are thousands of records of people, there. They would all know our weaknesses in two seconds flat.”

That’s entirely possible, Harry thought grimly, and it sounds just like the kind of thing Voldemort would like to do... And now I know why everyone’s been so venomous to me today. They need someone to take it out on and I’m the perfect target! Some of them will probably even be stupid enough to blame me for it all. I hope it doesn’t get any worse...

Out loud he said, “Well, let’s just hope the last people to leave there had the sense to destroy as many of the documents as they could. The only thing I think you should worry about doing now is asking Professor Sprout if you can have the day off classes. You know she’ll say yes.”

Susan slowly slipped of the window ledge and stood herself on shaky legs. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Harry.”

She tottered away and Harry suppressed a sigh, thinking that once she was dealing with her grief better, he hoped she would remember that she hadn’t minded talking to the pariah of the school. He felt selfish and guilty almost immediately and cursed himself for thinking such things.

He stood up and started to unconsciously wander towards Gryffindor Tower, knowing there was no way he could concentrate on something as mundane as Divination now.

The Ministry – God!

Harry was gripped with the sudden urge to do something, tell someone, but doubtless everyone who had read the Daily Prophet already knew. Besides, what could anyone do? The war had started again and Harry was nowhere near ready.

Worrying about what the school thinks of me, indeed! Wallowing in missing someone who was never even real in the first place! I should have been thinking about all the people that were fighting and dying while Voldemort digs his claws even deeper into our world!

Resisting the urge to punch a wall again, Harry cast his eyes about for something to distract himself with. They fell on the bathroom door he had just been passing and a thought began forming in his head that he had previously just pushed aside, simply because it had seemed ridiculous back then...

If Susan can be prepared to move on only a few hours after losing her Aunt...

Taking a deep breath, Harry shoved the door open and strode straight over to one of the mirrors, staring at his own, pale reflection that was so familiar it made his stomach twist.

“Shadow?” Harry closed his eyes for a second and drew a shaky breath. When he opened them again, his reflection hadn’t changed. “Listen, Shadow. I’m really, really sorry. I wanted to remember you for as long as possible – grieve you properly, ‘cos even though you weren’t real to Dumbledore or Snape, you were always real to me.”

Another shaky breath and he swallowed around the hot, tightness that was threatening to close up his throat. “Always, y’hear me? But I can’t do it any longer, the world is changing and I need to change with it. I have to be strong and I have to be ready to fight Voldemort if... when he comes for me again. You understand that, I know you would have. And I know you’d forgive me as well for doing this. I’m sorry. I miss you.”

Scowling fiercely against the tears that threatened to fall, Harry turned and left the empty bathroom.

Shadow gasped as though he’d been doused in ice water. Leaping to his feet and away from the fire, he glanced around wildly, almost expecting Harry to suddenly materialise out of the ground before him. For a moment, the world around him had gone dark and into the blackness had come Harry’s voice. Shadow hadn’t heard the words, almost as if they had been conveyed through several feet of water, but he could still tell it had been Harry...

“Shadow!”

Shadow spun around and came face to face with Kai, whose skin had gone even paler. A glint of panic was shining in his eyes and he was looking more serious than he had since Shadow had met him.

“Shadow, what happened? One minute you were fine... You just collapsed. What happened?” Kai’s hand closed around Shadow’s bicep, sending that strange cramp through his arm again and suddenly Shadow had had enough; he just wanted to find Harry.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you realise it hurts when you do that? What do you want from me anyway? Steal my magic? Eat my soul? Well, you can’t have it!”

Kai jerked immediately his hand back, his eyes wide, a flicker of hurt passing through them before it was stamped out. “Shadow... I, well, I’m sorry.” He glanced down and away, after another moment his jaw tightened and he suddenly looked more like Severus Snape than ever before. “My apologies for bothering you,” he murmured, his voice detached and cold. “I will not trouble you any further. You may go on your way.” Saying nothing more, he turned away and sank down beside the flickering fire and stared into its hypnotic flames. Aki mewed pathetically and crawled into his master’s lap, purring quietly as his peculiar fur was petted.

Shadow stared in mild astonishment at the scene before bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose hard.

Well, this is just great; looks like he genuinely wanted to help me after all. My first attempt at conversation with someone else is going so well. Maybe this was why I always...

Shadow frowned and shook his head slightly as the rest of the thought floated just out of reach in his head. He sighed softly and looked back towards the fire.

Kai was still hadn’t looked up, almost as if the older boy had really expected him to just walk off into the mist and never come back... Shadow’s heart tugged a little at that thought.

“Kai?”

The other boy looked up in surprise.

Shadow closed his eyes against the last few doubts that kept desperately telling him to never trust anyone but Harry and walked towards the fire again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Kai looked wary for another minute before offhandedly gesturing for Shadow to sit back down, though he still didn’t look as welcoming as before, appearing tense and keeping a good hold on Aki. Almost as if he was the one afraid of Shadow. “That’s OK.”

The emotionless voice shocked Shadow and he realised he must have hurt the other boy more than he realised; he hadn’t meant to, he just hadn’t expected Kai to have such a human reaction.

“I keep forgetting,” Kai continued, bringing Shadow back to the present. “You see, I spend most of my time around my family or my,” he forced a smile, “coven, so I forget that normal people don’t like Mages touching them. Our magic hurts them, you see? Well, of course you do. The pain is your instincts telling you that there’s a predator nearby and that you need to run.” Kai snorted humourlessly and stared into the fire once more.

Shadow couldn’t really say anything except, “I’m sorry,” again.

Kai shrugged. “Not your fault.” Making a visible effort to cheer himself up, he sat up straighter and forced a smile. “Now, I was about to tell you how to survive in this crazy place, wasn’t I? Or was it you about to tell me why you passed out and scared me half to death?”

“You were? Er, I was?” Shadow blinked as his mind did a quick three sixty. Well, there’s nothing I’ve got to lose; it’s not like I’ll be able to find Harry, or him me, without some kind of help. And besides, Harry’s voice is long gone now. “Oh yeah... Well... I don’t know why I passed out but I suppose I’d better start from the beginning if this is going to make any kind of sense.”

Kai’s black eyes seemed to warm slightly. “Go on.”

“That’s another thing – how did you know who Harry was?”

To Shadow’s surprise, Kai snorted and rolled his eyes to heaven. “Oh, everyone knows who famous Harry Potter is,” he drawled lazily, his earlier good humour slowly returning. “Not a day goes by when Father doesn’t start ranting about him for some reason or another. The Harry from our world is about,” Kai broke off and appeared to be counting in his head, “twenty eight and probably well used to being an Auror by now. Doesn’t time fly?” Kai gave a wry smile at Shadow’s shock and gestured in his direction. “Your turn.”

“I,” Shadow shook his head in an attempt to prevent his brain coming up with an image of what Harry would have looked like in his late twenties if James Potter really had been his father. “Well...” Where do I start? “In a way, I’ve always been Harry, experiencing his life like I was looking over his shoulder all the time, like, well, a part of him, I suppose.”

“Like a guardian?” Kai leant forward with interest. “Pardon me, but you don’t really seem like the type.”

“I’m not... I’m... like a part of Harry’s soul that’s broken off and become its own self, only I don’t think I’m even that anymore, ‘cos when Dumbledore cast the spell to send me back into Harry, I ended up here. And all the mirrors had gone,” Shadow added pointlessly. “And just now, when I blacked out, I heard Harry’s voice. I’ve no idea what’s happening to me,” Shadow finished miserably, wondering if it would be him, not Harry, who ended up going insane from their broken connection.

Kai regarded him with puzzlement for a minute longer before something seemed to shift in his expression. A slow smirk spread across his face. “Ah ha!”

“Ah ha?” Shadow echoed in bewilderment.

“Ah ha,” Kai agreed, the smirk almost insufferable now.

“You... Oh my God!” Shadow gaped as everything clicked. “You know what I am, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

Shadow frowned as a dawning suspicion surfaced in his mind. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

“Nope.” Kai leaned back and happily gazed up into the mist. “Why should I? You’re the one who’s determined to believe I’m going to do something horrible to you. Why should you believe anything I have to say?”

“Oh, come on!” Shadow scowled, he could feel his whole face twisting into it, but there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. “I said I was sorry and I meant it. Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“All right. One hint. Though, this is something you’re supposed to learn on your own, you know.” Kai looked over at Shadow, his eyes slightly shielded by his black hair. “You and Harry, you’re twins. Literally twins.”

“What? That’s the hint?” Shadow asked with disappointment. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”

Kai nodded solemnly. “For now. You seem bright enough to figure it out on your own, mind. It’s very simple once you get your head around it.”

Simple? I mean, I know I called him my brother, but... what on Earth is he talking about?

“Fine,” Shadow sighed, well aware he wouldn’t get anything more even if he pushed. “You did say you’d help me with the Mirrorverse, though.”

“Of course.”

At the soft words, a worried tightness that Shadow hadn’t even know was in his chest loosened a little and he smiled back, a hope beginning to make itself known that he would, one day soon, find his way back home.

oooOOOooo

Severus entered his quarters and stopped in the middle, glancing around himself with a tired sigh. Having people whisper behind his back about his personal life was not his favourite way to spend a day, especially when some of those people were his colleagues. You couldn’t give them detention for a start! Add to this the fact that the Dark Lord had decided to up the ante on his side of war, it truly was just the cherry on the cake of awful days.

Looking longingly at the table next to his fireside chair, Severus reminded himself that there was a reason he didn’t drink during term time; there were too many possible disasters waiting to happen if he indulged, but oh, how tempting it was when the dunderheads – adults and children alike – attempted to try his patience.

“Severus?”

In a world where floating heads in your fireplace is a common occurrence, Severus really shouldn’t have been all that startled; however, this just goes to show that anyone can be distracted enough for an unexpected mundanity to make them feel like they’ve swallowed their tongue. Refusing to even give the impression of being shocked by Albus’ sudden appearance, Severus swept over and knelt down on the hearthrug.

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“Ah, good. You’re there.”

Severus fought the urge to mutter, ‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’

“I think it would be necessary for you to come up to my office for a quick chat.”

In other words, Albus had something he needed to discuss privately and attendance was compulsory. Severus half hoped it would be about what had happened at the Ministry the night before, at least that would give him the chance to rave about the incompetence of the personnel who had worked there... and distract him from the fact that war had blatantly and irrevocably been declared once again.

“I will be up shortly.” Severus pulled himself to his feet and started heading for the door.

“Severus?”

What now?

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“Aren’t you going to use the Floo? It really is much quicker.” The damnable old man’s eyes were twinkling with mischief after this statement and Severus had to resist the urge to bash his head against the wall. Or the Headmaster’s.

“No, Albus. As I am sure I have told many times before, I prefer walking. I will see you in five minutes time.”

With a last chuckle, Albus disappeared. Severus sighed quietly and looked around for parchment and quill to leave a note for Harry if the boy turned up for his lines while he was still gone. Only because in war, you needed to let your connections know where you were at all times of course. Not because of any sentimental need to prevent the boy from worrying... or because it was good to have someone to leave a note for, for once.

Harry, Severus penned tersely, I am currently in a meeting with the Headmaster and should be back presently. Your supplies are where you left them. I would advise you not to touch any of the items you may observe on the shelves. I keep them there for the sole purpose that they are out of the students reach; there are some of the more nasty variants of what you would commonly find in the student’s store and my personal supplies.

He paused, struck by the realisation that this was the point most fathers might something to praise in their offspring. Maybe. To be honest, this whole father thing was becoming more baffling with the more time that went on. He couldn’t treat Harry how he treated his Slytherins, could he? He mostly just left them to their own devices, and that was generally fine with them. And he couldn’t very well treat him like his own father had treated him – uncaring and sometimes a little fist-happy when drunk. They’d been fine over the summer, but Harry hadn’t really been his responsibility then.

He felt like he should be making more effort over something. But what? He’d made a mess of things so far.

Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts back to the parchment.

Finally he settled on: I was surprised by the quality of handwriting you have displayed so far. I expect you to keep to the same standard throughout. There, that seemed innocuous enough – no point in seeming mushy. Now for the hard part. How should he sign? Dad? Not bloody likely; at least not without sounding completely fake and pretentious...

Giving in, he signed his full name with a flourish and left the note on the table near the entrance to his quarters and, hopefully, in plain sight of Harry if he came in. Then, satisfied, he left his chambers and set a fast pace for the Headmaster’s office.

Twenty Ravenclaw House points down and a detention for the student in question later, he arrived, his temper not at its best ever since he had almost been ‘accidently’ tripped by the Ravenclaw Seventh Year. That particular Ravenclaw was probably still sniffling in a bathroom on the Third Floor. Severus smirked tightly. There were some things that really made his job worthwhile, and being Hogwarts’ resident bastard was just too an enjoyable position to give up. He’d probably tone it down around Harry and his friends, but he couldn’t see any real reason to do more.

“Spice Snakes,” he muttered tiredly to the gargoyle, too tired to really sneer at Dumbledore’s latest frivolous choice. Following a short ride on the revolving staircase, Severus found himself standing in front of the Headmaster’s office door. For some reason, it was currently sporting a new and rather vivid painting of a phoenix.

“What on Earth?” Severus muttered under his breath, wondering what had got into Albus and why it had him defacing the school with random scribblings of his familiar. The painted phoenix winked cheekily at him and flicked its tail feathers, causing the door to swing inward. Shrugging, Severus strode forward.

“Ah, thank you for being so prompt, Severus–”

Severus was about to snap a retort that he was always prompt when the man standing beside the Headmaster’s desk turned to face him.

“You!” the man roared, storming forward like a bull charging. “You bastard! How dare you!”

Before Severus had even a chance to blink, he was lying flat on his back – jaw throbbing painfully – and wondering if the Headmaster would keep him out of Azkaban if he used a particularly nasty Dark and painful hex on Sirius Dratted Black.

“Professor?” Harry knocked politely on Snape’s office door and waited. And waited and waited. “Professor Snape?” he snapped, knocking louder after another couple of minutes, irritated about being left waiting alone in Slytherin territory. Plus, there was the added difficulty that the longer he stayed in the open, the more likely it was for Ron, Hermione, or Neville to come searching for him and he didn’t want to talk to his friends just yet, especially after Susan’s revelation.

He needed time to sort things out in his head, maybe even talk to Snape, but mostly he just wanted to be left alone. It had been hard enough to slip away from them all – and Hermione’s admonishments about him missing class – again after dinner.

He knew he was retreating but at the moment he didn’t care. He needed to think.

“Snape!” he hissed in irritation as he glanced up and down the empty corridor. For pity’s sake! Reaching his hand out, he closed it around the door handle – planning to give it a good rattle – and was completely shocked when the door opened smoothly before him.

“Huh,” he muttered, eyeing the door curiously. “That was easy. Do you think it’s because I’m Snape’s son that it did that, Sha–”

Shut UP! his mind hissed and he cursed himself for his slip, especially as he’d vowed that very afternoon to forget all about him.

Salem twisted tighter around his wrist in comfort before settling back down for another doze as Harry entered the office and closed the door tight behind him, listening to the lock click.

Right, now where was that stone I’m supposed to press again? Somewhere behind the desk, I think. I hope Snape won’t be angry with me for barging in like this.

After a few moments of searching, Harry found the stone and watched with half-interest as the entrance appeared. Luckily, no angry Snape appeared so he walked forward into the man’s empty rooms – the entrance closing over behind him and candles flaring to life all around him – and trying to fight down the impression that he was trespassing, which was simply ridiculous.

His eyes fell on a piece of parchment sitting on the table in front of him. To his great surprise, it was addressed to him... Harry read the note, feeling bewildered. Snape had let him know where he had gone? What did that mean?

“’Your supplies are on the desk’. Well, that’s clear enough,” Harry muttered derisively, trying to ignore the way Snape’s faint praise had kindled a warm feeling in his chest. “Yeah, well I want it over and done with just as much as you do, Snape.”

Still reading over the note, he dropped his bag next to the sofa and continued over to the small study Snape had shown him. He was tempted for a moment to remain in the fire-warmed sitting room, but it wasn’t really a useful place to be if you were trying to improve your handwriting. Besides, Snape was bound to come back when he was in the middle of his work and catch him at it.

As Snape had said, everything was set out ready for him to get started. Trying and failing to suppress a sigh, Harry sat down and got out his quill. He would finish this before the next Quidditch practice if it was the last thing he did.

19. My habit of recklessly rushing into situations...

Harry let the mindless work absorb him. Yes, it was boring, but he found the neater version of the letters he was writing were coming more easily to him the longer he wrote. A soft chime rang through the quarters and Harry glanced up distractedly from his fifty seventh line, only to startle to his feet when he noticed the clock across from him read nine in the evening.

Curfew!

Caught in a panic, Harry frantically cast around for a way to safely get back to the Common Room without getting caught by Filch or – God forbid – Snape.

His breath rushed out in relief as he spotted a small bowl of Floo powder on a shelf nearby. McGonagall never came into the Common Room anyway, and surely a teacher’s fireplace would have access to anywhere else in the school?

Besides, Snape hadn’t come back yet, so there was no one to catch him at it...

Making a split second decision, Harry stood and hurried over to the shelf. With one last glance around he reached out and grabbed the bowl. Or at least he tried to. Frowning with concentration, Harry reached his hand out again and passed it through the bowl of Floo powder several times.

Huh. Well that’s different.

Intrigued, and momentarily forgetting where he was, Harry pushed his hand forward. The whole shelf was an illusion! You don’t discover a hidden alcove every day, so Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward...

“Wicked!”

On second thoughts, it was rather typical of Snape to have a hidden room even in his own personal quarters. He would have loved to explore the various odds and ends scattered throughout the room, but he was already late as it was and so, spotting that the bowl of Floo powder had relocated itself to the far wall, he hurried over and snatched up a generous handful, hoping against hope that the false wall worked both ways. There was another door leading out of the room, but God knew where that led.

To his immense relief, the wall proved no more solid than the first time he had tried to step through it and he was soon back in the living room, gathering up his dropped schoolbag and stepping over to the fireplace. And hesitating.

Stealing from his father was exactly what Dudley would have done in Harry’s position if he were trying to help himself. Was it really so terrible just to wait a little while and explain his mistake to Snape instead of sneaking around in this underhanded way? And besides, just look at what had happened last time he had taken something without permission! Was he really that oblivious to the message his father’s lines were trying to get across?

Harry had just re-entered the secret room to put the Floo powder back when the fire flared green.

oooOOOooo

That arrogant imbecile! I’ll kill him for this.

It had taken the combined efforts of Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin to pull the two fighting men off each other, disappointing both of the combatants greatly. After all, they felt they’d barely even started.

After the Headmaster had finally managed to make Sirius calm down enough to stop screaming about Severus stealing ‘his’ Harry, and helped Severus off the floor – with some of the portraits complaining loudly about Black’s attitude all the while – he had handed them both some bruise salve and got straight down to business. Severus suspected it was probably the only way the old man could think of to keep them both in check when they wanted nothing more than to have a go at each other’s throats, but at least he hadn’t offered out any of those blasted sherbet lemons.

The purpose of the meeting had then rapidly become apparent, and Severus had listened in horror as the plan unfolded.

Due to the location of the Ministry, most every Wizarding family allied against the Dark Lord had fled London, leaving opportunities to monitor his followers’ actions almost non-existent. Which meant... someone from the Order had to be sent in to spy on the Dark Lord’s plans, or at least his general movements instead.

Albus had originally thought that Black would be excellent for such a mission – his Animagus form provided a superb way of concealing himself from the Death Eaters – but Severus had quickly shot that one down in flames (with Black snarling at him all the while), pointing out that surely Pettigrew would have already told all and sundry about Black’s ‘secret’. It was extremely likely there would be many traps – meant specifically for Sirius – already spread around the surrounding area, which only someone with Death Eater knowledge could undo...

Severus almost groaned out loud as he realised he’d walked right into the solution, and probably precisely why the Headmaster had invited him up for this little ‘meeting’. His sudden sourer-than-usual expression didn’t go unnoticed by Albus.

“Something the matter, Severus?”

“Haven’t you noticed how awfully convenient this is, Headmaster? The only way we will be able to gather any pertinent information is to send BOTH a known Animagus, either McGonagall or Black – and Black is the best option as he would not be obviously missed here – along with someone who is familiar with Death Eater customs.”

Snape indicated himself with a flick of his wrist, ignoring Black’s derisive snort. “The Dark Lord often has plans within plans. One of the added bonuses to winning the Ministry means that he will be able to lure in certain people he views as threats and have them dispatched quickly and quietly. Myself, Black, McGonagall–”

He was interrupted from counting off the various people at risk on his fingers by Black. “Oh, please! You’re so paranoid, Snape, you see conspiracy theories around every corner! Not everything is about you–”

Severus leant forward in his chair suddenly, his features twisted into an unpleasant and indefinable expression. “As opposed to charging in without a plan, and hoping I can get away with it, I prefer to...”

“Listen here, you–”

“Gentlemen,” Dumbledore articulated, his blue eyes flinty, “enough. We have more than enough to concern ourselves with without bringing petty rivalries into it. And, yes, Severus has guessed my plan correctly. We cannot send Minerva as her absence would be very noticeable...”

“And what about my absence, Headmaster? I can assure you it would be most noticeable!”

“Severus, I was just coming to that. Now, I am sure that you are already aware those with Death Eater parents already know of your changed allegiance. They might even be expecting a change in your personality...”

“You’re suggesting that someone should Polyjuice into me while I’m gone, aren’t you?” Severus snapped angrily, watching as the situation slowly slipped from his control. “With all due respect, Headmaster, this plan of yours insane!”

“And yet it is the only one viable to use at the moment,” Albus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking as if he had a headache developing.

Black noticed too. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Snape, I’m not exactly thrilled about going on this little package holiday with you either, but you aren’t seeing me complaining.”

“Shut. Up. Black,” Severus hissed through gritted teeth, shooting daggers with his eyes. “Now is not the time for your petty game of one upmanship.”

“Oh, and now is the time for you to suddenly become the mature one? What, has playing ‘Daddy’ suddenly, magically, made you less of a git?”

“Sirius, shut up!” Lupin bit out, looking as impatient as Albus was. Severus was almost disappointed that Black obeyed – he’d been looking forward to putting that mutt in his place. As it was, he leaned back in his chair and silently regarded the others through narrowed eyes. Better to let them think he had superior control to Black than to reveal he would really prefer to be spitting tacks at everyone in sight.

“Yes, indeed. Tea, anyone?” Albus asked wearily, conjuring a teapot and four cups, and looking so tired that Severus almost felt guilty for being so disagreeable. Almost.

Once everyone had tea, regardless of whether they wanted it or not, Albus continued the meeting. “Now, Remus here has considerable knowledge of how the Hogwarts faculty conducts business – he would be the sensible choice to Polyjuice into you while you are away – and he came second to you in Potions when you were both in school, Severus. Your Potions class would be in safe hands.”

“Oh, and what happens when their Potions Professor starts disappearing during the full moons? Most of the students in this school already know what signs indicate when one of their teachers has Lycanthropy! They would catch on after hardly any time at all. Especially” – his lips curled into a sneer – “the Slytherins.”

Black muttered something that sounded like, “They would!” but Albus continued before Severus could call him on it.

“We shall just have to make sure your missions do not take over a full month. The end of September or early October would be the best time to start your first scouting of the area, taking three, perhaps four, days.”

“And what about my Slytherins? My SON?” Severus muttered, feeling particularly petulant as he knew he had already lost.

“Your son? YOUR son?” Sirius Black had apparently had enough of keeping his peace, and had risen to his feet, eyes blazing in fury. “You mean JAMES’ son, whom you stole from him! Apparently mocking and ridiculing him for three, full years wasn’t enough! No, you had to poison his mind into believing that you – you of all people! – were his father–”

“Sirius!” Lupin’s shocked voice cut through his tirade. “Severus would never do something like that, no matter how great his resentment. Besides, Professor Dumbledore here gave his word that this unlikely tale is indeed the truth.”

“Oh?” Black snapped, whirling on Lupin instead. “And we’re to believe this simply because Dumbledore–”

“Enough!” Dumbledore’s voice was more forceful this time, and Severus leaned back to enjoy the little show that Black seemed determined to play before him. “May I remind you that we are at war? Innocent people are losing their lives every moment we delay! Voldemort” – the others flinched – “may now be redirecting his attentions to securing his new stronghold, but all too soon his attentions will return to us – the resistance – and Hogwarts and her children will be in danger once more. Now is definitely not the time to wallow in childish grudges. Sirius, I am surprised at you!”

Dumbledore broke off – no doubt to give Black a disapproving look – but Black was being inflexible.

“Childish grudges?” the man sputtered, before recovering. “Snivellus,” he roared, pointing an accusing finger in Severus’ direction, “has stolen my godson and I’m supposed to roll over and play ‘Good Dog’ about it?”

Albus sighed distractedly and brought his fingers up to massage at his temples. “Certainly not. I understand these recent events have caused you a great deal of distress, and your discovery of them tonight was definitely less than ideal. However” – he raised his head – “I implore you to put this aside for the mean time. Now is a time to band together, not to pick fights with each other. Voldemort will be searching for the tiniest weakness to break us, and we cannot allow him the chance!”

Albus paused again, but this time Black remained silent, clenching and unclenching his jaw in some unnameable emotion. Severus hid a smirk of unrestrained glee as he fully realised that as the child’s legal parent, he could refuse Black the privilege of seeing Harry ever again. And wouldn’t that be sweet justice?

Deciding that the silence had gone on long enough and that he would not be interrupted again, the Headmaster continued, “I understand that some form of resolution needs to be found between the two of you, and that this will be tremendously difficult to achieve, but I need you and Severus to gather as much information as you can after Remus here has recovered from the coming full moon. I would ask Minerva instead if I believed there might even be the slimmest chance of getting away with it, but I do not believe that to be the case. You two are our best hope. Can you do this for me, Sirius?”

Black stood, breathing heavily with a vein pulsing quickly in his throat for so long that Severus could almost believe he was frozen. Therefore, it came as a shock when he finally spoke.

“Fine.” The word was spoken as if it was wrenched from him. “For now. And only if he” – he jerked his head at Severus – “lets me have unrestricted access to my godson.”

The focus of the room shifted away from Black and Severus suddenly found himself the one everyone who was staring at. For one golden, tempting moment, he almost refused this twisted olive branch Black had extended to him for the sheer, smug pleasure of being able to show the mutt how helpless he really was now in regards to Harry... but only for a moment.

For a start, Albus would be extremely disappointed in him. Especially after all the hard work he had put into his honeyed words to sway Black into agreeing. Severus felt a pang of resentment towards the old man, thinking how unfair it was that Black deserved to be on the receiving end of Albus’ silver tongue whereas he, Severus, was simply expected to do as he was told with no questions asked.

But it was true. Severus owed Albus dearly for accepting him back to the Light when he knew damn well that no one else would have done the same – though the old man would never do something so callous as to use this fact against him – and it weighed heavily on his conscience. Besides, Albus had been a good friend during the years following that night, and that alone would have been enough to sway Severus into accepting the offer.

However, there was a new factor in play now. Harry. And as much as Severus loathed Black, he had to admit that Harry adored him – for Merlin’s sake, he’d had a demonstration of just that in his own home, that very summer! And hadn’t he promised only last night to be a better father to Harry?

“Very well. As long as Harry wishes to see you, Black, you are... welcome,” Severus twisted the word, so it sounded just like the opposite, “to visit him.”

Black’s face twisted in fierce triumph, looking so much like the night he had got away with sending Severus to the Shrieking Shack, that Severus felt a fresh wave of hate crash over him.

“Excellent,” Albus concluded. “Now that we have that settled, I daresay you would all like to head back to your various abodes. Sirius, Remus, thank you for your cooperation. I shall contact the Order with what we have planned. Severus, a moment, if you will?”

Severus settled back in his chair and watched with masked disgust as the other two left via the Portkey Albus provided – Black transforming back into the bear-like dog just beforehand.

A quiet stillness descended in the office, and instead of finding it oppressive, Severus found it restful after the earlier high emotions and nasty, unexpected surprise of seeing his hated rivals twice in so many months.

Apparently Albus felt the same, for it was a long time before he broke the silence. Even then, all he said was, “So, what did you think?”

“What did I think?” Severus mused, allowing a dangerous undertone to enter into his tone as he ran the tip of his finger around the edge of the teacup. “I think that you are a manipulative, old sod, Albus.”

Albus’ face lightened in relief as he heard the familiar, teasing epithet. “Ah, as you have said many times before, Severus,” he chuckled, waving his wand to refill their cups.

Severus raised his hands to heaven. “Well, what else am I supposed to say?” he asked, dropping the dangerous tone and allowing his exasperation to leak through. “You have just spent the better part of the past half hour talking a man down – who appeared near homicidal at the beginning, I might add – into accepting the pitiful offer of doing what you say, merely so that he gets to see his godson whenever it takes his fancy to drop in!”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “And can you honestly say you would not have done the same if he had been the one with the potential to keep Harry from you?”

Severus was brought up short by that, and for a time he could only glare at his cup in silence. However, he rallied quickly. “You expect me to go on a mission with Sirius Ruddy Black, upon which there will be many dangerous situations where he can off me and make it look like an accident! Give me one good reason why I should agree to this.”

Albus regarded him solemnly over his spectacles. “That, I am afraid, is entirely up to you. You have just as much power to refuse this mission as Sirius did – and let me assure you that if he had disagreed after knowing all of the facts, I would have found a different way to do what the Order needs.”

Severus resisted the urge to put his head into his hands. He knew very well that he would accept – for the same reasons he had turned spy for Albus all those years ago – because of Albus, because of Lily, to prove himself, to do something worthwhile... the list went on, but Severus had decided that long ago it didn’t matter why he did something as long as he followed through...

Which, ironically, was the reason he had joined the Dark Lord in the first place – and the reason he had left.

“Very well, Albus,” he muttered, weary at the idea of willingly heading into the jaws of whatever trap the Dark Lord was sure to have devised. “I shall go. But do not expect this mission to have much success. It is likely that the wards the Dark Lord has no doubt placed around his fortress will scream a warning the second I get close. Especially now I no longer have this...”

A twinge of excited anticipation twisted through his stomach as he rolled up his left sleeve, almost shivering as he revealed what he had been meaning to reveal for weeks now.

“My goodness!” Albus gasped, leaning forward over his desk to take a closer look at Severus’ bare forearm. Eyes twinkling, he raised his eyes to Severus’ once more and asked, a slight inflection of awe creeping into his voice, “And how did this momentous happening occur?”

Taking a breath, Severus related in terse sentences what had happened to call forth the remainder of Lily’s magic she had imbued in his skin with her final touch. To his surprise, instead of being overjoyed, Albus’ frown deepened with every word Severus spoke.

“Severus, may I have a look, dear boy?” Albus finally asked, concern colouring his voice.

Confused, Severus nodded and obliging held out his arm while the Headmaster hurried around his desk. There was silence for a few moments, broken only by Albus’ soft murmuring and the whir of the peculiar instruments dotted around it. Fawkes sat and watched the proceedings with a solemnity that Severus was sure was out of place.

Eventually Albus leaned back and sighed through his nose, looking as though something had disappointed him greatly. Without even knowing why, Severus gut clenched.

“Albus?” Even his voice sounded a little uncertain.

Albus looked up and gazed at him with regret. “Severus – my dear Severus – I am so sorry.”

“Don’t say that.” Severus stood up out of his chair and started pacing back and forth, a terrible suspicion beginning to form in his mind. “Don’t say that – you have nothing to be sorry for. Hear me? Nothing.” His tone was firm for the most part, but Severus cursed himself for letting the slight note of pleading for creeping into his words.

“Severus.” Albus stepped back and sat down behind the desk again, recognising his need for space. “I... am afraid that while the Mark is indeed inactive... not even Lily’s magic had the power to remove it completely...”

“Enough!” Severus sneered as his worst fear was confirmed. The Dark Mark hadn’t gone. It was... It was... “I have heard enough. It appears that not even the sacrifices I have made in my life are enough to ever cleanse my soul! I have known this for a long time, why should I expect it to be any different in this matter?” A note of bitterness had crept into his tone and he made no effort to suppress it.

Albus peered at Severus over his half moon spectacles, supposedly contemplating something. “Because without hope, humans – even wizard kind – are not worth much.”

“Spare me the proverbs, old man,” Severus snapped, feeling very weary all of a sudden. “So, you are saying that Lily’s magic did not indeed remove the Dark Mark – as I had hoped,” an extra sneer was devoted to the word, “but instead, it was only concealed it from sight.” Severus turned away, unable to bear the pity in Albus’ eyes.

“I am afraid so, dear boy. Though her magic was great enough to break the connection, the actual symbol represents a magic older than Lily’s purity of intent could affect. The Mark itself will disappear the instant the Dark Lord is defeated and not a moment before–”

“Yes, yes” – Severus cut the end of Albus’ sentence off with a sharp chopping motion – “at which point I will most likely already be dead, and all my hopes for redemption along with me.”

For the first time since the truth about the Mark had been revealed, Albus’ eyes started to twinkle a little. “Ah, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, my boy. After all, you have a son to look after and worry about now. A son, Severus. It is amazing how knowledge of someone waiting for us to come back to them can increase survival instincts. And, besides, you very well know about what my views about your redemption are, don’t you?”

“That I have redeemed myself already by risking my life for valuable information,” Severus grumbled, sinking back down into his chair again. “And yet, I still was unable to save Lily, regardless of whatever actions I took. As far as I can tell, my soul is accurately reflected by this.” Severus indicated his supposedly smooth forearm morosely. “At first glance it appears clean, but underneath the veneer there is a canker rotting away his core.”

“Really now, Severus. There’s no need to get poetic about it all.”

Severus flushed and ducked his head, a furious scowl twisting his features as Albus gave him a gentle smile along with the teasing.

“I am sure that Harry would agree with me if he knew the same things that I know about you...”

Severus head shot up and he glared. “You will not be telling Harry about my past!”

Albus waved a negligent hand. “Of course not. That is for you two to sort out, though I would advise you to tell him of your own volition. We are at war now, and war has a nasty habit of unearthing decade-old secrets.”

Severus paled, but managed a jerky nod. How will I ever tell Harry about this? How can I let him know when there is no doubt that he would hate me for it – possibly even more so than he did before this whole business?

“And speaking of Harry, Severus?”

“Yes?” Severus asked dully, feeling a lead weight settle in his stomach at the reality of his situation, his mistakes, and how his life had led to this point –him lying to his son by staying silent about his past, and his left arm being sullied by an evil symbol only hidden from sight by a simple concealing charm.

“Did you hear what I said, dear boy?”

Severus blinked. “I beg your pardon, I did not.”

“Not to worry. You’ve had a busy day, and an evening full of less-than pleasant revelations. All I said was that you should let Harry know about where you are going at the end of September, and who is going to be taking your place. It would be for the best, as long as you let him know it must be a complete secret from even his closest friends. Too much depends on your mission being successful.”

“As successful as it can be when my scouting partner is Sirius Ruddy Black.”

Albus’ lips twitched. “Quite.”

“But why bother telling him at all?” Severus rubbed his face tiredly. “If this mission must be kept so secret, why endanger it by telling it to a fourteen year old?”

Albus smiled, his eyes lighting up as he said, “Because Harry needs to know that he can trust you. He is probably still very uncertain at this point, but once he does trust, that trust is very difficult to break. I have a feeling that you will need him as much as he will need you in the coming years.”

“Indeed.” Severus flushed and looked down again; discomforted by the personal turn the discussion had taken.

Albus abruptly stood and clapped his hands together quietly, causing Severus to jump, realising that he had almost been half-dozing.

“I believe it is time for you to return to your quarters. I have taken up enough of your evening with serious talk, and I daresay you could do with spending some time for relaxation now. Be sure to give Harry my regards, won’t you?”

Severus stopped halfway to the fireplace and turned back. “It’s past curfew, old man. Harry knows better than to stay out of Gryffindor Tower without my express permission.”

Albus chuckled. “As you say, dear boy. As you say.”

Severus didn’t have time to ponder that statement before the dizzying flames whirled him away.

The second time he entered the hidden room turned out to be too much for Harry’s natural curiosity. No sooner had he strode halfway back though it, something caught his eye and he slowed to a stop, absentmindedly pushing the Floo powder into one of his pockets as he approached it instead.

It was a creature’s skeleton, certainly, but it was made entirely of metal. Harry vaguely remembered Dudley going on and on about various dinosaurs when they were little. However, the chubby boy had always being careful to not allow Harry anywhere near his special collection – especially after one ‘accidental’ occasion when Harry had caused one of the tiny, plastic creatures to come to life and start eating the rug.

Anyway, he was pretty sure that this creature was called a Terry... something. The long, sharp beak filled with plenty of miniature, metal teeth which looked positively vicious while, conversely, the long, tapering wing bones seemed to be extremely delicate. Harry tentatively reached out a hand...

“Do not touch that, young man!”

With a gasp, Harry flinched and stumbled around to stare at Snape, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The man was looking even grimmer than usual; arms tightly folded, and a very foreboding expression on his face reminded Harry nastily of the night they returned to Hogwarts.

“I, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even mean to come in here.” Harry would have stammered out yet more apologies if Snape hadn’t ended up relaxing slightly and waving a negligent hand.

“It is of little consequence that you found this room – it was part of my plans to show you it anyway. This is where I shall be training you in how to manage your adult magic.”

“Really?” Harry asked, feeling his spirits start to lift as his jitteriness from the shock drained away. “When do we start? Is it soon? Can I do it at the same time as...?” He stopped as Snape raised a hand to rub at his temples. “Sorry.”

Snape dismissed this with another wave of his hand. “It is not your fault. It has merely been an extremely long day. Careful!” Snape quickly reached out and pulled him away from the creature’s stand.

Harry almost yelped as he realised the birdlike thing behind him had been moving stealthily forwards but managed to stifle the impulse.

Snape gave it a disdainful look. “It doesn’t have nearly enough magic left in it to do much more than snap at whoever’s nearest. So much for the legacy of the purebloods.” The sneer seemed to fade a little as he observed Harry’s confusion. “In the old days, it and many of its kind were used to guard the ancestral homes of the elder families,” Snape told him, seeming to accidently slip into speaking the way he did when he was teaching. “Only wandless magic can affect them. This pterodactyl will feature in some of the exercises I will set you.”

“Cool!” Harry eyed the Terry-thing – which appeared to have gone back to sleep – with increasing interest. Lessons in wandless magic! Hopefully Snape really would make good his promise soon.

Snape muttered something which sounded suspiciously like, “Well, it certainly took me long enough to get hold of it,” under his breath before gesturing for Harry to proceed him out through the false wall. “Come, I have much I need to discuss with you.”

“OK.” Harry gave the creature a last glance and walked out into the sitting room, almost sighing as the familiar, comforting atmosphere they had developed during the summer seemed to fold around him. Snape wasn’t angry or shouting tonight; he was calm and observational, attaching a sense of irony to the things he discovered. He certainly wasn’t the Snape who had terrorised Harry’s younger years.

Once they had entered at the sitting room, Snape gestured at the sofa while taking his own chair. Harry sat down quickly, reflexively curling his legs up under him.

Snape gave him a sour look that he didn’t really mean. Probably. “Shoes off the furniture.”

Harry quickly kicked off his shoes with a cheeky grin and settled back into his previous position, causing Snape to roll his eyes. Nevertheless, the man seemed to settle more comfortably into his chair, a smirk stealing quickly across his lips which Harry almost missed seeing.

They were silent for a couple of moments, allowing Harry to relax and watch the dancing flames of the fire as some of the tension – put there by the day of animosity he had received from the rest of the school – drained from his back. He didn’t even realise that Snape was doing the exact same.

Eventually Snape spoke, his tone revealing no inflection which could indicate his mood: “I seem to remember writing in my note that you shouldn’t touch anything on the shelves, and quite frankly, I cannot see how else you discovered that room unless you went against my express instructions.”

Harry gulped. Snape didn’t seem all that angry, but he couldn’t tell his father the truth all the same. How would the man react to discovering that Harry had almost stolen from him again? The Floo powder in his pocket suddenly started to try and burn a hole through his robes. Make that HAVE stolen from him again. Not for the first time he wondered why he didn’t seem to possess even the smallest amount of self-preservation when it came to certain situations. “I... um... It was curfew...”

Snape raised an eyebrow when he faltered, obviously encouraging him to continue.

“It was curfew and I was just about to leave when something caught my eye on the shelf,” Harry rushed out eventually, ducking his head as he prepared himself for his father’s displeasure. “I wasn’t going to touch it, I swear, but my hand went right through the shelf and I decided to... um... explore...” Harry peeked up at Snape, nervously wondering why he hadn’t said anything yet.

Snape didn’t do anything apart from say, “Ah,” and turn back to studying the fire. Harry fidgeted for several more minutes before deciding that he wasn’t really in all that much trouble. It seemed almost impossible, especially when a mere twelve months ago Snape would have jumped on a statement like that.

As the silence continued, Harry decided to distract himself and allowed a strand of his magic to slip out and run through fingers, marvelling at how easy it was to do this now and losing himself in a bit of a trance as he played with it. He almost dropped it when he happened to glance up and find Snape watching him with veiled interest.

“I... ah...” Harry stammered as he quickly drew it back inside his body (which was harder to do, but it was only a very small strand, and it was nothing compared to the effort he would have needed to use a month ago).

“It appears you have a phenomenal amount of control already,” Snape marked offhandedly. Though his tone was neutral, Harry still flushed slightly at the praise. “I see that our lessons will go much more easily than I had anticipated.”

“I...” Harry broke off and started again, his cheeks still a little warm, “It’s much easier than it used to be. Before, it was almost impossible to control, but it’s been different after...” He couldn’t say it. “After...” He couldn’t. That would mean thinking about what he had promised not to. Instead, he pressed deeper into the couch and allowed silence to descend like thick treacle. Snape was still watching him.

The moment dragged on a little longer and his father shifted, leaning forward slightly in his chair. “Harry...”

“So what did Dumbledore talk to you about?” Harry broke in desperately. “Something important?”

Snape sighed and sat back again, seeming to drop the subject. Harry certainly hoped so. “The Headmaster has concocted a harebrained scheme in which I am one of the main participants.”

Harry forced a laugh. “Oh no. What it is? Hug a Gryffindor day? You being responsible for this year’s Christmas decorations?” Harry felt a little fizz of happiness as a slow smile spread across Snape’s face. It was gone all too quickly, his face reverting to the grim expression Harry had seen when he’d first come back to his quarters.

“I am afraid it is nothing so light-hearted.” Snape looked him straight in the eye. “It is to do with the war effort.”

Harry’s gut clenched. Oh. Oh no...

Snape continued, evidently noticing the distress Harry was trying to conceal, “It is nothing overt, merely a reconnaissance expedition to obtain information. I am only informing you because I shall be going away for a few days and will be unable to contact you during that time for my own safety. It is nothing you should concern yourself about.”

Harry tried to nod, but the sudden, irrational fear in his gut didn’t allow him. “What about your classes?” he asked dully, unable to think past the image of Dumbledore taking him out of breakfast one morning and telling him that they’d found Snape dead in a ditch somewhere...

Suddenly he was aware of Snape’s hands holding his own and a voice telling him to breathe... and he looked up into his father’s concerned eyes, feeling a little of the fear fade away as he did so.

Realising his father’s hands were still on his own, Harry pulled away and looked down. Stupid. The second he trusts you with important information, you go to pieces! He’s not going to want a weakling for a son... Mustering a smile, he looked up – Snape had returned to his chair to give him space – and muttered, “Sorry.”

Snape waved his apology away. “It is I who should apologise – I did not make it clear to you that my reservations about this mission were about who I was going with rather than where it would take me.”

Harry eyed the man, sensing that he still wasn’t quite telling the full story but deciding to let it go anyway. After all, he had said that he wasn’t really worried... “So, who’s your partner, then?” he asked, curling around himself on the sofa and trying to relax.

Snape’s mouth curled as though he’d tasted something particularly unpleasant. “I do believe that your blessed godfather was volunteered for the position by the Headmaster. From all the loud expletives, I’d imagine he was just as against the idea as I was.”

Harry jolted upright. “Sirius was here?”

Snape smirked as he caught Harry gaping like a fish. “Indeed.” The smirk disappeared. “In fact, the mutt actually had the audacity to demand that I allow him to see you whenever it suits him.”

Harry swallowed a lump of apprehension. “And... you did, didn’t you?”

Snape’s face quickly remodelled into an indecipherable expression. “Of course I did. Though it does strike me as rather unfair he did not take when you might have wanted to see him into account.”

“Oh.” Come to think of it, Harry was rather annoyed that Sirius had been here tonight and hadn’t even bothered to come and say hello... “Well, yeah. Um... thanks, I suppose.” Noticing Snape still looked dissatisfied about something – probably because Harry didn’t seem to appreciate the effort he had made in allowing Sirius to become a regular guest when Harry really, really did – he hurried to continue, “Really, thank you. I guess he’s prob’ly really busy with trying to stay away from the Ministry; it would be great to see him again when he does drop by though. He and I’ll have so much to talk about by then!”

Snape frowned at him and Harry could almost feel the man’s mood shift from relaxed to cold. “I do believe it’s time for you to return to your dormitory. Come, I shall escort you.” Snape stood and quickly strode towards the door, leaving Harry feeling baffled once again.

What did I say? Did that... Was it jealously I saw in his face before he closed down? Surely not... What’s he got to be jealous about? I must be imagining things.  “Umm, OK. Coming.” Harry shoved his feet into his discarded shoes and hurried after his disappearing father, thinking that if the man kept blowing hot and cold on him like this, Harry’d probably end up having a mental breakdown.

Snape was very quiet on the trip back to the dorm – seeming to want to avoid even making eye contact with Harry and snapping when he didn’t move fast enough. Harry had to bite his lip to stop from sighing in frustration. What had he done? If only Snape would talk to him! How was Harry supposed to guess what was wrong when the man didn’t say anything?

By the time they reached the Fat Lady, Harry was fairly itching to say something, anything, to break the tense silence that surrounded them both like an ominous cloud.

However, all Snape did was give a curt nod and step away, lost in his own thoughts.

“Dad?” Harry’s own voice was quiet, almost fragile in the darkness, and for the first time he wondered how he dared call Snape by that endearment. After all, the man had never said he could – he simply hadn’t said he couldn’t. How did Harry really know if Snape cared about him at all? Could he have simply been carrying out the Headmaster’s orders all along while feeling contemptuous of the boy forced into his care?

After a lifetime of growing up with the Dursleys, this option seemed entirely too likely to Harry.

Snape had turned around and regarded him with a raised eyebrow, seeming pre-occupied about something, almost looking right through his ‘son’.

Harry’s questions lodged in his throat.

“I... G-goodnight, sir.”

Snape inclined his head once more. “Goodnight, Mr Snape,” he said quietly before hurrying off down the corridor, leaving Harry standing alone and wondering if he had felt this abandoned when he had woken on the Dursleys’ doorstep all those years ago.

A deep anger started burning in the pit of his stomach as Snape turned the corner without looking back once – without seeming to care anyway.

“Treacle tart,” he told the Fat Lady dully, and sluggishly climbed through the portrait hole once she had obligingly opened, a slightly concerned look gracing her face. Harry didn’t notice – he was too busy trying to work through all of the possible reasons for Snape’s behaviour that didn’t end in... rejection... from the man.

Mr Snape? He never calls me Mr Snape... When we’re not in class, he ALWAYS calls me Harry – or sometimes Mr Potter, like it’s our inside joke – he never calls me Mr Snape. What did I do? What did I DO? He didn’t seem angry about me finding the room... Could he have been pretending? Could he have been pretending all along?

The lump in his throat seemed to make him want to sniff but he forced the impulse down, vaguely noticing that somehow he’d made it to the dorm room and into his pyjamas without noticing. He idly wondered if he should get the bell Hermione had given him and use it to calm down, but he could still hear his dorm-mates quietly getting ready for bed, making him loath to open the curtains.

The decision was taken out of his hands as they were pulled them back with a loud rattle, leaving Ron standing there with a worried expression on his face. Neville hovered somewhere behind him, while Dean and Seamus watched surreptitiously from the corners of their eyes.

“Hey, mate. Alright?”

Looking into the concerned, blue eyes, Harry couldn’t help but offer up a weak smile. “Yeah, I s’pose. Just... it’s been a really long day.”

He pretended not to notice the look that shot between the other four boys.

“Don’t you listen to what those bastards said today, Harry,” Seamus piped up. “They can’t tell their arses from their elbows.”

Harry’s lips quirked and he snorted at the expression as a picture of Crabbe and Goyle looking very confused popped into his head. “Thanks, I’ll remember that. I’m fine, though. Really.” There was no point in getting his friends involved in the hate campaign against him after all – they’d only end up getting hurt. “I’m going to sleep. G’night and... thanks, guys.”

The murmur of goodnights he got back stabbed at Harry again. Why couldn’t his own father spare the time to be this courteous? They were only words after all!

Ron was still looking at him strangely, so Harry made sure that his face was a blank mask. He’d worked so hard to keep Ron and Hermione from thinking Snape was evil that it seemed foolish to give up now. He didn’t need to tell them – he could deal with this on his own.

Luckily, Ron didn’t seem to find anything odd in his expression as a smile broke over the redhead’s face. “Well... G’night, Harry. Hermione said that she wants to give you a hug and apologise for carrying on at you about Divination – it’s not as if we learn anything in it anyway!”

Harry shook his head, lips quirking again – a habit which he seemed to have picked up from Snape. “Girls!”

Ron snorted. “Tell me about it. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s one of the lessons I can sleep through, I’d drop it all together!”

Now there’s an idea... Harry grinned, even though it did feel a bit hollow to do so. “Yeah.”

Yawning hugely, Ron turned away. “Talking of sleep, I’m going to bed. ‘Night, Harry.”

“’Night, Ron.” Harry reached out and pulled the curtain closed, silently plotting how to drop Divination. I wasn’t like he learnt anything from it anyway, and he could use the extra time for more important things – like learning how to fight Voldemort for example. All he’d have to do is come up with a suitably tragic fate for himself and then say he needed to drop Divination to give himself time to ‘prepare’. Trelawney would lap it up.

And Snape would never need to know he’d skipped today.

His good humour only lasted until the lights were switched off. Then he was only left with the sounds of sleepers breathing and his own memories.

His mind kept returning to the events of the summer, evaluating and re-evaluating what had happened in the hopes that he could have done something, anything, to have stopped them from turning out the way they did. The words lost a brother, gained a father kept echoing through his head, making him want to close his eyes and smash his face into the pillow until he couldn’t think anymore.

How could one person feel this alone?

Lost a brother, gained a father... And now I’ve lost the father too – how careless of me! Harry felt hysterical giggles building up in his throat, but he forced them down and away, trying to make himself as immovable as stone. Surely then the hurt wouldn’t keep pulling him apart the way it was now?

Hurt slowly gave way to anger again. So what if he ignores me? So what if he doesn’t care? And who cares anymore whether or not Shadow’s around to stop me feeling lonely? It’s only ME missing him, after all...

I don’t need either of them. I DON’T! I managed just fine on my own before! Why do I suddenly think I need either of them to keep me going? I don’t.

Harry rolled over and closed his eyes tight shut, slowly forcing himself into sleep; to a world where Shadow was alive and was wandering through great tracts of mist, accompanied by a hooded stranger guiding the way.

oooOOOooo

Aki raced in circles around them, chasing the mist as though it were a live enemy. Shadow couldn’t help but smile.

“Your turn to lead.”

“But, Kai, I still don’t understand at all...”

“Don’t worry about it. In the end it doesn’t matter whether you understand or not; all you need to remember is that if you let her, the Universe will guide you where you need to go. It’s in their very nature – they want the people within them to be happy, because that in turn makes them happy.”

“But what if I’m not good enough...?”

Kai pretended to hit him over the head with his Mage’s staff, then hid a grin as Aki misjudged a jump and fell arse over teakettle. That one made Shadow smile as well.

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” the older boy sneered in a remarkably accurate impression of Snape, only spoiling it a moment later by winking. “Trust me; this Universe will lead you home if only you let her. She led you to me so I could tell you how to survive here, didn’t she?”

Shadow stared. “But... I wasn’t going anywhere. I was just wandering around in endless circles!”

Kai gave him a sombre look. “And yet you didn’t give up – you kept going. True, that is partly to do with your inner strength, but didn’t you ever feel like something was waiting for you if only you kept going just a little longer?”

Shadow bit his lip. Yes, that was true, but it still seemed entirely implausible that this great... space... around him had any kind of consciousness at all, let alone want to lead him back to Harry.

“Come on.” Kai’s voice was gentle, as if sensing how lost Shadow felt. He made as if to rest his hand on one of Shadow’s shoulders, but the older boy flinched back before it even came close.

Shadow pretended not to notice. He knew how terrible it was not to touch someone whenever you wanted to.

Kai gestured him in front. “Close your eyes.”

“But...”

“Enough with the ‘but’s. Close your eyes and trust me if you can.”

Shadow suppressed a sigh. He had silently promised to try and trust more after all, but it was so hard! This was why he’d hidden while he’d let Harry... Shadow blinked and pursed his lips in confusion at the seemingly stray thought. I’ve never hidden from anyone, have I? They just couldn’t see me... Why did I think that? I don’t understand ANYTHING that’s going on just now. His memories tried to surge up and overwhelm him once again – far too many for one person to cope with all at once... and yet the answer to everything was in there somewhere, if only he could find it...

“Shadow?”

Shadow sighed in relief as Kai’s voice pulled him back to the present. He flushed slightly as he realised how close he’d been to losing it then – that was something he couldn’t afford to happen with anyone watching. “Yes, Kai?”

Kai was frowning, as if worried by something. “Do you want me to lead again? If you don’t feel ready...”

“Oh!” Only then did Shadow realise how long he’d been silent. “I... No... no. I’ll give it a go.” Nothing to lose at any rate...

Kai smiled, his face shifting from its harsh lines for a moment. “Go on then – ask. Politely, mind you.”

Feeling completely ridiculous, Shadow did so. “Err... Hi.” The tracts of mist he was addressing remained unmoved. Aki trotted over and sat down beside him, head cocked to one side in interest. Shadow glanced down at the cat and sighed. This is SO stupid. “I, uh, was wondering if you could – please – lead back home?”

Nothing happened.

“Great! Just great.” Shadow whirled on Kai and scowled fiercely. “I told you this wouldn’t work.”

Kai frowned pensively. “Maybe she isn’t helping because she doesn’t know where your home is. When I was leading, I was asking for specific names of places, if you remember. Like using a postcode.”

Shadow stared.

Kai shrugged uncomfortably, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “Believe me, I do know how weird all this sounds. I’ve just had a few years to get used to it, whereas you’ve only had hours.”

“Be that as it may, I’m still not any closer to finding my way home.” Shadow turned away, determined not to show how much this was getting to him. “And besides, this place should know where I’m from. It was the one surrounding me while I was talking to... people in the real world.” Shadow was desperately close to tearing his hair out.

Kai seemed to realise this. “Look, I didn’t mean that you should give up just because you don’t know what your home was called. Why not ask for someone who’d be able tell where to go instead? She can’t do anything overt – that just isn’t the way things work – but she can give you a nudge in the right direction. Besides, they can find people more easily than places.”

Shadow took a deep breath, held it, then let it out again. “All right. If you can’t take me to my home, could you take me to Harry?”

There was a slight stir in the atmosphere, as if someone’s curiosity had been peaked and they were listening... it was the weirdest sensation, but there wasn’t anything more obvious than that. Aki purred and stood, as though greeting an old friend.

“Erm, could you be able to find him?” Shadow asked desperately, hardly able to hope. “He’s called Harry James Potter... or at least he was last time I saw him... maybe he’s called Harry James Snape now, I don’t know, but please help me. I’ve got to find him!”

The curious presence remained, but nothing else changed.

Shadow turned to Kai in despair, who simply shrugged and murmured, “She’s listening...”

It was then that Shadow understood. I have to help myself. They can only help me so far and they know it. I have to do the rest on my own... Ignoring the despair and hopelessness that threatened to crash on him, Shadow lifted his chin and tried again, “If you can’t take me to Harry, can you take me to someone who’d know where he is? I need your help. Please.”

There was a pause, a pause that seemed to last an eternity, but eventually something happened. A soft tug within his mind tried to pull him in a direction slightly off to the right. He would have missed it if he hadn’t been expecting something, but it was definitely there. Resisting the urge to leap into the air and whoop with joy, Shadow started hurrying off in the direction the subtle pull was leading him, only to come to an abrupt halt a moment later when he realised Kai wasn’t following.

oooOOOooo

Severus sat with his head propped on his hands, trying to ignore the constant, sharp tugging he was experiencing in the area surrounding his heart.

The fealty bond Lily had cast was obviously still working, and the tugging could only mean one thing – Harry needed him. Yet Severus did not move from his chair, continuing to sit there and try to resist the temptation of giving in to his need for a stiff drink.

The truth was – ashamed as he was to admit it – Harry had hurt him dreadfully, even though he was sure the boy hadn’t meant to. The memory of the joy which had flickered over Harry’s face when he had realised that his godfather really could drop in whenever the mutt wanted made Severus growl softly and grind the heels of his hands into his eyes once more.

Harry was never as pleased whenever he saw him. Not anymore. Instead, whenever Harry looked at him these days, his eyes were always sad with a hint of wariness, and it was all Severus’ fault. His son might care a little about him, but it was nothing compared to the fierce love he felt for Black, or even for the werewolf. And yet, somewhere along the way, Severus had ended up completely devoted to his son – would do anything to preserve his happiness, just like he would have done anything for Lily. Even now, when he knew he should be distancing himself from the boy to save himself, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Tomorrow, he promised silently. Tomorrow I shall find him and fix whatever it is I have done to upset him. If he ends up still caring for Black more when all’s said and done... then so be it.

That decided, Severus finally gave in and Summoned a glass and a bottle of Firewhiskey. He may hate the stuff, but nothing else would put him to sleep as fast. What else was he supposed to do when the ache in his chest threatened to block out everything else?

Severus’ regret at not speaking to Harry that night grew exponentially as the next few weeks passed by. The time for when he had to leave on his madcap mission with Black was drawing ever closer and his son had suddenly decided to ignore him completely.

He could not comprehend it – he’d tried talking with the boy, asking him what was wrong, giving him advice on his homework and generally trying to be available and supportive in his own way but Harry, it seemed, was having none of it. Not even when Severus had given him points in class for answering a question right!

All he got out of him these days were monosyllabic – albeit polite – answers at best and complete avoidance at worst. There had even been one occasion when Harry had arrived for his nightly lines, taken out a sheet of pre-written ones and used a copy spell – which had literally peeled the sentences off one page and stuck them to the other one – before leaving again with barely a glance in Severus’ direction.

He was at his wit’s end. What had he done? What could he do now? He knew he couldn’t allow himself to become angry – that would worsen an already bad situation – yet Harry seemed to hardly notice him when he was rational and calm. He almost looked right through him on some occasions.

The oddest thing was, all the other teachers said he was performing fine in their classes. He also looked happy enough around his friends, and he did not appear to be missing ‘Shadow’ that much anymore. He only shut down around Severus. And yet his heart was still twinging slightly every now and again. What did that mean? Should he consider the pains themselves, or the decreased number of them? And which should he act on?

Severus leaned back in his desk chair and sighed.

Maybe I really am bad for him. He certainly seems cheerful enough around his friends. What should I do? Let him go? Talk to him again? I have no idea. Shouldn’t I know automatically? Shouldn’t a father already know the right and wrong way to treat his child? Well... mine didn’t. But what should I do about Harry? He just doesn’t seem to... need me anymore.

Now, that thought hurt.

But what could he do about it? Albus always seemed busy these days, tending to leading the war effort as well as running a high maintenance school like Hogwarts. And the rest of the faculty? Ha! Most of them he wouldn’t trust to find their own noses.

At least Minerva had stopped taking her disapproval of him out on Harry. That had really confused the boy, Severus could tell. It was a relief to him that she was back to treating Harry like he was just another of her Gryffindors.

Unfortunately it still didn’t solve the problem he had with Harry, and now the next challenge Severus faced was that Harry had finished his neatened two hundred lines the evening before. The boy now had no reason other than his own free will to see Severus outside of class anymore. Of course, it didn’t help that on top of this, Miss Adie appeared to have done her job a little too well. The whole school was staring and gawping at his son as though the boy would sprout wings any second! Surely Harry had to be bothered by this...

I’ll talk to him again today, Severus decided, picking up a quill to start the grading the neglected homework before him. I’ll sort this out between us before I leave. I have to. I HAVE to.

oooOOOooo

Harry flew in lazy circles above the castle, watching the sun rise above the lake. Having his broom back at long last was the most wonderfully freeing feeling he had experienced in a long time. When Snape had given it to him last night, it had been all Harry could do not to rush outside at once, but it was curfew and there was no way that he was going to risk the Firebolt being taken away the second he’d got it back.

And so he’d waited with his hands idly fidgeting in his lap for the moment when he could see the first rays of dawn start to spread across the night sky. After that he’d snatched up his Firebolt and sprinted out into the cold, Scottish air. He’d already been on his broom before he was even properly out of the huge front doors.

He sighed in bliss and did a lazy loop-the-loop, his mind nicely blank for once. He’d have to go into breakfast soon, but not yet. Not yet...

Harry hissed in exasperation as he heard someone calling his name from beneath him. It looked like he wouldn’t even be able to get just a few more moments of peace. Ron and Hermione were standing far below, waving up at him as if that would somehow get his attention more easily.

Yes, they had been fantastic these past couple of weeks – not asking him about the silence between him and Snape, and keeping the students who suddenly seemed to despise him because of his father as far away as possible from him – but Harry really wished they would leave him alone sometimes.

Pushing the broom into a steep dive – only to pull out seconds before reaching the ground – he hopped lightly onto the earth and forced a smile for them. Hermione was on him within seconds.

“Harry, where have you been? We’ve been worried sick! We couldn’t find you anywhere; your bed wasn’t slept in and there was no note! What were we supposed to think? We were just going down to check Hagrid’s as a last resort, but after that we were going to go straight to the Headmaster. You should really be more careful...”

Harry shook his head and walked past her, ignoring the hurt and concern in both of his friends’ eyes. Now that he was back on the ground, his wakeful night had caught up with him and he wanted nothing more than to go straight back to bed and curl up under the sheets. He certainly didn’t want to listen to any more of Hermione’s lecture – especially when her voice was shrill with worry.

“Sorry,” he muttered absentmindedly as he stamped up the steps and into the castle, trying to use his feet to wake up his sleepy mind. “I’m just going to get something to drink.”

He heard an exasperated sigh behind him, but his friends followed him easily enough, for which in truth he was grateful. He didn’t know what he’d do without them. A case in point was when his broom was knocked from his hands a second later by a burly Gryffindor boy in the year above. Harry thought his name was McLaggen...

“Oh, sorry, Snape, I didn’t see you there!”

Yeah, right! Harry thought silently, scowling as he bent over to retrieve his Firebolt. He also couldn’t help but notice the seventh year Ravenclaw Prefect standing nearby was noticeably paying no attention whatsoever to the scene playing out before him.

McLaggen went to shove him from behind – obviously thinking it would amusing if his prey ended up sprawling on the floor – when a particularly nasty burning hex Hermione had learnt just last week caught him across the hand.

“Don’t you dare!” she shrieked, levelling her wand at him again. Ron had done the same in the background, his ears red and his teeth grinding. “Don’t you even think about going near him or there’ll be more of the same!” She waved her wand threateningly and everyone in the vicinity stepped back.

Harry winced at the volume she’d managed. Apparently defending him from the constant, low-level bullying was taking its toll upon his friends. Snagging his broom, he stood and grabbed her sleeve.

“C’mon,” he muttered, tuning out the low jeering from the group as he steered them towards their table. Stars, he was tired. Tired of all of this; Snape, the taunting, even just being decent to his own friends. The one person he knew would understand everything without Harry having to say a word was no longer there and that made him more angry than sad these days. Couldn’t he at least keep one little bit of good in his life without it going spoiled?

Harry sat and ate his breakfast moodily, pointedly ignoring everyone who tried to engage in conversation with him. It was only when he’d finally got enough liquid in him to realise what he’d been doing – and after Hedwig had come down for a bit of attention – that he almost groaned for being such an idiot. Pushing people away wasn’t going to help his situation any.

Casting a glance at his two best friends revealed that they were in the middle of a large discussion with the others at the table... Harry sighed and decided not to disturb them. Instead he settled for petting Hedwig and reading the Daily Prophet she’d brought him. It did nothing to lighten his mood – all respectable shops in Diagon Alley deserted, various Muggles killed and mutterings that if Voldemort did something that couldn’t be explained away as a gas explosion, it could mean the exposure of their world...

Harry put the paper down and fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. How could he not feel responsible for these things? He was one of Voldemort’s main targets for a start! Not to mention the fact that most people thought he’d well and truly killed the bastard that Halloween night and, because of that, they’d been lured into a false sense of security...

Harry shook his head vigorously. Now I’m getting ridiculous! It was their own fault if they believed a mere baby could off someone like that. None of this is my fault. NONE of it. He sighed and folded the paper neatly, tucking it away in his bag for later, and after a last glance at his friends – there was no way he was going to look at the staff table behind them – he started to make his way down towards Care of Magical Creatures.

His heart lifted at the idea of being able to see Hagrid again, but he’d barely made it to the open Entrance Hall doors when the inevitable happened. It really was surprising that it hadn’t happened sooner...

“Oi, Potter!”

Harry froze and turned slowly. “Actually, it’s Snape now, Malfoy.”

oooOOOooo

It is surprising how far voices can travel in a castle. Severus had only just finished with all the marking due in for today’s lessons and therefore was late heading up to breakfast. It was then that the voices – both sharp, with their words lashing out like a kick in the gut – floated down to his ears.

“Drop the act, Potter. You don’t honestly expect me to believe this rubbish, do you? As if Snape would want you for a son.”

Severus ran.

The second voice was tainted with bitterness, but was almost eerily cold. “Oh, shut it, Malfoy! You’re only doing this because you’re sore about how he didn’t want you after your pathetic parents got themselves locked up–”

“Mr Snape!”

Harry visibly flinched as his father’s shout echoed through the Entrance Hall.

“My office, this instant!” Severus didn’t even give Harry the chance to act, but simply grabbed his upper arm and pulled him away through the halls, moving at such a pace that Harry could barely keep up with properly. Severus gritted his teeth as the sound of Malfoy’s derisive laughter dissolved away into the background, getting the distinct impression that his son was doing exactly the same.

Fortunately, they both reached his office swiftly.

Severus slammed the door behind him, let go of Harry’s arm and took several paces forward, breathing heavily as he tried to gain equilibrium. Calm, calm. Must calm down for him. Remember last time? You can’t deal with him in this state. Calm down now, that’s it.

But Harry didn’t give him a chance.

“How could you?” His son’s eyes flashed with suppressed emotions but the tone was as icy, almost as if Harry were addressing a stranger he didn’t care for. It sent chills down Severus’ spine.

The boy continued, “You – you knew it was Malfoy goading me and you did nothing to him. Again. It’s always me who gets dragged away and yelled at! Always! Well, go ahead then: yell at me, take my broom away! See if I care.”

Another burst of rage threatened to take over but Severus reined it in, taking another deep breath as he did so.

“Enough,” he enunciated carefully.

Harry flinched.

Severus took another breath. It seemed to be helping his inner balance. “Sit,” he said, pointing to a nearby chair, careful to keep his tone neutral. When Harry looked as if he were about to protest, Severus gestured more sharply. “Now.”

Harry gulped and sat, obviously trying not to give in to the apprehension in his eyes.

Severus eyed him carefully. “You will sit there for five minutes and contemplate your actions...”

That was enough to make Harry flare up again and jump out of the chair. “I’m not some little child you can just spank and send to the corner!” he snapped, his anger finally breaking through in his tone. “Bet you enjoyed that last time, didn’t you? Enjoyed me shaking whenever I made a mistake, always wondering when you were going to hit me again! Well, it’s not going to happen again! I’ll be an adult in three years and then you won’t ever see me again, you won’t...” Harry trailed off, only just seeming to realise that Severus hadn’t said a word to stop his rant, and had instead leaned against the wall, watching him coolly.

Hmm, interesting new tactic, this. I shall have to employ it more often... Severus was inwardly furious and a little hurt at the accusations Harry had flung at him, but he’d finally managed to realise that the more reaction he showed, the worse he made the situation. “Congratulations, Harry you have just gained an extra five minutes contemplation. Might I inform you that any more shows of temper will have me applying a permanent sticking charm to the seat of your robes while I go and teach my first class?”

Harry seemed to weigh whether or not he meant what he said for a moment before slowly sinking down into the waiting chair. “Finally calling me Harry now, are you?” he muttered sulkily to his lap. “And you can’t keep me here for a class period anyway. I have lessons to go to.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? As I see it, you don’t seem to have much regard for turning up to lessons. Or is it just Trelawney spouting her usual nonsense when she was saying you haven’t been to a class of hers for weeks...?”

Harry gulped again, and this time fell completely silent.

Severus sank into his desk chair and half-heartedly read through the already marked essays again to calm down. Some of them were really appalling – he had to use all of his concentration just to decipher the handwriting sometimes!

Ten minutes shuffled by, stifling and difficult, but finally Severus was able to stand up and walk over to his son. Harry didn’t look up. Severus quickly pulled another chair over and sat down so that their knees were almost touching. Harry still didn’t look up.

“Harry” – the boy tensed – “have you had sufficient time to think over your actions earlier today?”

Harry shrugged. Severus resisted the urge to raise his voice.

“Well then, if you think you have considered them enough, could you tell me what it was that prompted me to bring you down here?”

Silence. Then... “Malfoy started it!”

“That is not what I asked.”

“He was the one who was saying all those things! Calling me Potter, saying I didn’t deserve you!”

“I know, Harry, I heard.”

“Then why didn’t you drag him down here? It’s always me! Was he right? Do I not deserve to be treated like a normal human being?”

“Leave Mr Malfoy’s behaviour to me and I will deal with him at a later time...”

“Yeah! I’ll leave Malfoy to you, and you leave me to... to me!”

Harry was shaking a little, his green eyes furious. Severus almost unconsciously braced himself. “Harry...”

“It’s not even as if I need a father!” Harry’s voice was rising with every word he spoke. “I was doing absolutely fine until you came along. Oh, I’ll attend my classes, work hard, and be a good boy still, but why can’t you just leave me alone? I tried, I did! I even thought I wanted this, but I don’t! Not anymore. It’s too much – all of it. Waiting to accidently make the wrong move with no idea of how you’re going to react from one moment to the next. I’ve done my best, and it still wasn’t enough for you. This summer... it all seemed so... so great, but I’m obviously not good enough. Go back to hating me – I don’t care – just leave me be! I don’t want a father!”

Severus took a deep breath. Is it just me, or is he contradicting himself every other sentence? “Harry, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

Harry scowled, his expression throwing the bags under his eyes into stark relief. “Oh, so you’re allowed to throw a fit but I’m not? What a brilliant example of precisely what I’m trying to leave behind.”

“Harry,” Severus said, trying not to speak any louder while remaining firm, “you have just taunted a boy who, for all intents and purposes, has lost his parents for the next twenty years! You of all people should understand how terrible it is to be in that position. Is it really so wrong of me to expect you to show a little compassion?”

“Yes! That bastard’s been out to get me since day one, and quite honestly, I’m glad that he’s been made as miserable as I am! And if that makes me a bad person, then, then...” Harry floundered and fell silent, his angry gaze returning to his lap as he did so.

What do I even begin to say to that? “As far as I can tell, you are a very good boy who is also extremely overstrung at the moment. Understand me?”

Harry bit his lip and nodded a little, his hands tightly twisted in his robes. Anger still fairly shimmered off the boy but Severus could almost sense that he had been shocked into listening.

“Everything must seem like it has happened at once for you, yes?”

Now there was a sniff to accompany the nod as the last of the anger visibly fell away. And, suddenly, Severus knew what to do. What was needed. Even if it tore him to shreds to do so.

“Well, that is completely normal” – I think – “and nothing which should concern you. If it would make you safer, more stable, then you are more than welcome to put the change in our relationship to the back of your mind.”

What?

“I am well aware that you can be more independent and capable than most people your age. I will not be troubled if you pay me no mind outside of class as long as you work hard in Potions.”

What the hell are you doing, Severus?

“Would that help, Harry? I shall always be here to listen if you wish to talk, of course, but would it help if you no longer felt pressured into furthering your filial relationship with me while you deal with other things first? Would it help if you aren’t constantly worrying about how you should react to me, or how I have reacted to you?”

Harry looked up for the first time since his outburst, his eyes glistening a little, and simply whispered, “Thank you.”

Severus was certain that his heart was breaking for the second time in his life but all he said was, “Good boy.”

They sat for another moment longer before Harry uncertainly stood up. “I- I should go...”

Severus pursed his lips a little, attempting to use his ‘disapproving teacher’ tone instead of a more paternal one. If Harry wanted a little distance, then he had to at least try and play the part. Time to treat him like he was just another Slytherin student. “And when was it that you went to bed last night, Mr Potter?”

A small smile tugged at Harry’s lips before disappearing all together. “I, uh, didn’t, Professor Snape. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I’d flown and I couldn’t do that while it was still dark...” Harry trailed off and peeked up at him from under a flop of dark brown hair.

Severus sneered, before letting his lips quirk upward slightly. “Obviously you do not have the sense you were born with. If you had, you would have asked me to monitor you doing so before you went up to your dormitory.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “You would have let me do that?”

“Of course. Now, you will go up to the Hospital Wing, tell Madam Pomfrey what happened and see if she’ll let you catch up on sleep there this morning. I have been told she has a soft spot for you.” Severus stood and started shooing the boy out the door.

“Yes, sir!” Harry and Severus shared a brief smile before Harry slipped out of the door and up the corridor, looking as if a burden weighing down his shoulders had suddenly been lifted.

As soon as the door shut again, Severus folded into his chair and put his head in his hands.

Did I do the right thing?

I put Harry first.

But did I do the right thing?

Thousands of invisible particles prickled and stung his skin, each one of them trying to shunt him into motion. It was difficult to keep his eyes focused on the ‘real’ world, let alone upon the suspicious, green eyed boy standing before him. It was a shame, really, for the boy had only just started to place his trust in him.

This universe obviously wanted him gone – he’d lingered too long again – and now the she was trying to carefully nudge him out in order to protect herself. No Man’s Land was generally one of the more accepting universes when it came to Mages, but too many had transversed her borders lately. She wanted them gone. Out. She wanted to be safe again.

Kai listened patiently to her whispers in his head and mentally nodded. He’d been here too long indeed. In fact, if he hadn’t bumped into Shadow...

Besides, he really needed to see his family again – to see some trusting, friendly faces. To walk through a world that didn’t seem to recoil at his very touch. To see his sisters, to tease and banter with them without fearing he’d permanently alienated them... Yes, he’d definitely stayed too long away this time. His expectation of a positive human reaction to his presence was almost zero, for Merlin’s sake! No wonder so many Mages went mad after just a few years alone.

But how could he leave Shadow now? True, he really couldn’t go any further in the direction No Man’s Land had suggested to Shadow – it was far too dangerous for a Mage to travel that road – but how could he leave this young, almost helpless boy without any guidance? He shuddered a little as he realised how he would feel if he couldn’t find his way home...

And now Shadow’s journey was leading him right to the borders of death itself – which, possessing a normal soul and magic, he should be able survive unscathed. But how could any decent person in good conscience allow a mere boy to make such a journey alone?

Kai sighed and resisted the impulse to pinch the bridge of his nose. Maybe by the time he was eighty eight, his life would have stopped throwing impossible decisions at him like this. That is, if he managed to live that long.

oooOOOooo

Shadow could see the older boy staring absentmindedly at the ground in front of him, causing an unnamed fear to take hold as soon he realised something was wrong.

“Kai, what...?”

“I can’t go any further, Shadow.” Black eyes lifted from the ground and appeared to assess him. “It is too dangerous for me now.”

“Oh.” A terrible pain pulled at Shadow’s soul and he gave the direction leading towards what might be his only way home a last, sad look. “Oh,” he said, and walked back to where the Mage was standing.

Kai stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

Shadow frowned. “But... you said that it was too dangerous for us to go any further.”

“I said it would be too dangerous for me to go any further. You, on the other hand should be fine as long as you’re careful.”

“I don’t understand.”

Kai’s expression gentled. “I’m a Mage, Shadow. You will understand the danger the place you’re heading to poses for me when you arrive there. Remember what I told you before; a Mage’s soul and his magic are one and the same. Souls belonging to normal people are protected from this place by their magic. I swear to you that I am not abandoning you. Besides,” Kai’s face twisted into a smile, “you will be a whole lot safer once you leave my presence. Be safe, Shadow and good luck.”

Shocked, Shadow abruptly realised that something was hidden underneath that jovial expression, almost as if Kai really did expect him to turn around and walk away with a smile on his face, grateful that he’d escaped from the other boy, and was bracing himself for that fact. But it wasn’t like that, not at all.

“Why’d you do that?”

Kai tensed warily. “Do what?”

“Cover everything up with these cheery comments like... like the real world can’t touch you? Like you don’t care?”

Kai said nothing.

“I thought so,” Shadow murmured, almost to himself. “I thought there was something odd about a son of Severus Snape acting so constantly positive. It’s what made me wary of you, but you’re not like that at all, are you?”

Kai’s gaze skittered away. “You find...” His voice trailed off as though his throat had suddenly tightened. “You find that people are less likely to want to put down a dangerous creature if it lets them stroke it and plays fetch.” Dark eyes suddenly pinned Shadow with their gaze. “Fear makes people hate like nothing else.”

Shadow met his gaze. “Yes. I know.”

Kai reached up to his own shoulder and absentmindedly stroked Aki, who had just scrambled up like Kai was his own human climbing-frame. “Then I am sorry that you do. I am... grateful for your acceptance of me.”

“Yes, well...” Shadow forced a smile. “I suppose we’re both pretty screwed up, aren’t we?”

Kai returned in kind but said nothing more.

Well, Shadow thought, I suppose there’s not really much you can say to a statement like that...

Kai took a deep breath and sighed, raising a hand to point in the direction that the Mirrorverse was tugging him in. “It will be dangerous. You will be frightened. More difficulties other than what you have already experienced will set themselves in your path. But...” Kai lifted up a finger, a true smile flickering around his mouth. “I am certain that, not only will you not give up, but that you will also succeed and succeed well. Trust this universe and listen to her hints – she will not lead you wrong.”

Shadow scowled. “Now that I recognise from Snape. You’re lecturing me!” he accused.

Kai just threw back his head and let out a short laugh. “God forbid that I actually share some traits with my father.”

Shadow’s scowl deepened. “And now that’s sarcasm – stop it at once!” And then, not able to keep up the facade any longer, he laughed along with the older boy.

“All right, all right,” Kai said after they had calmed down. “Now, this is the part you really have to listen to. The Rules.”

He held out his hand and started counting on the fingers. “Number one: stay away from any people you see. Mostly they’re harmless but sometimes you can meet some really nasty specimens. To accomplish this, you must stick to the more uneven bits of ground. Most people travel along the flat parts – like the bit we’re standing on – so you would be safer steering clear of such places, OK?”

Shadow nodded, wondering how many rules he would need to remember and hoping he would be able to. Some of the memories already in his head were driving him batty. So many and all of them uniform – none of them fading into the background like a normal person’s would. Maybe he should start destroying a couple again...

Kai held up a second finger. “Number two: this place is where the Elemental Serratii originated from. There will be plenty about and none of them will be tame. As long as you stay away, keep moving and don’t look like food, they won’t bother you.”

Shadow gulped. “Err... what’s a... an Elemental Sera, S-seri...”

“An Elemental Serratius?” Kai supplied.

Shadow nodded gratefully.

Kai grabbed a hold of Aki and tugged him off his shoulder, dangling the cat in front of Shadow’s nose. “That is an Elemental Serratius – cute until you get too close. These creatures are born with their full abilities because their natural environment is so unstable. Aki as he is at the moment will never grow. He already has the ability to use a magical element to do the growing for him – as you saw earlier. Now, the locals won’t be anywhere near as friendly as Aki.”

Shadow shuddered as he remembered how his first meeting with Aki had gone. No way did he want another 450 pound tiger look-alike sitting on his chest in the near future!

“Which brings us to our next point,” Kai continued. “No Man’s Land – or the Mirrorverse as you say – isn’t made up of space and planets and stars like normally. Instead, she is a seemingly endless expanse of white mist and ground that fills in space in between the normal universes... Rather like the no man’s land from the First World War. She gets a little bored sometimes and decides to remodel every now and then.” Kai grimaced. “Not very nice to get caught in – bit like an earthquake – but if one starts, drop to your knees and start rolling until the ground stops shaking, OK?”

Shadow gulped again, wondering what he was getting into. Surely there was an easier way of doing this?

“Now, lastly, when the mist starts turning grey, you must stop immediately. If necessary, back up a few yards into the white mist. Then you wait. The grey mist means you’ve reached your destination, but by no means should you go into it. It would be dangerous even for you if you did that.”

“Err, could you write this down at all?” Shadow asked, his head spinning a little.

“Ah. Yes of course.” Kai carefully settled his staff on the ground and started rummaging through his knapsack until he found a piece of parchment and a pen. An odd expression came across his face as he looked at them – part speculation and part mischief – before he shrugged and tore the parchment in two, scribbling instructions down on one half and then stowing the second back in his bag. “Here you go.”

Shadow took the list cautiously – he had caught the look – and scanned what was written. It looked normal enough.

1.      Stay away from people – stick to the lumpy ground.

2.      Stay away from the cat creatures – do not look like food.

3.      Prepare to do a lot of rolling if the ground shakes.

4.      Don’t go near the grey mist!

“Umm, thanks. I think...” Shadow said as he squinted at the parchment, turning it this way and that to see if he could work out what Kai may or may not have done to it. Slight panic began to set in as he realised that this was really it – after this he would be all alone once again. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Kai held out his hand to shake and it was only a couple of seconds before Shadow decided to take it.

The sting from the touch was stronger than ever, but Shadow forced himself to hang on for a good five seconds, hoping that he fully conveyed his gratitude that Kai had turned out not to be evil after all. “So, uh, fancy doing some Mage magic? You know, as a send off?”

Kai smiled and leaned closer as though parting with a great secret. “I already have,” he whispered, giving Shadow a gentle push towards where the Mirrorverse was pulling him.

Shadow forced himself to turn away and start walking. He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye for that would make his leaving final, but luckily Kai seemed to understand.

Aki gambled along by his feet for quite a way before turning and dashing away with only a gentle headbutt on the legs to announce his departure. When Shadow chanced to look back over his shoulder, there was nothing but mist.

“Right,” he whispered to himself, stumbling on the uneven ground in front of him. “Right.” I have promises to keep... and miles to go before I sleep.

oooOOOooo

It was a of couple hours later before he realised his memories were no longer clamouring at his brain for attention. In fact... they now seemed almost... normal.

Bloody, meddlesome Mages!

Severus wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up in the Headmaster’s office after lunch that day and he was definitely unsure of how a cup of tea had managed to make its way into his hand, but – as with all things Albus-related – he decided to classify it as normal. Evidently he’d been more shaken up by Harry’s decision than he’d originally thought.

Albus himself was watching him closely over the top of those peculiar half-moon spectacles of his; making Severus almost want to snatch them off in the hopes the old man would look at him directly head on for once. Pursing his lips, he pulled his thoughts away from such things. “I just don’t know what to do now, Albus. I do not know what to do.”

“As far as I can see, you’ve done all you can under the circumstances, Severus.” Albus sighed and turned his head towards the fireplace as if the flickering flames could give him an answer. “If a child is feeling threatened, the worst thing you can to is to force them further into the situation... though, like everything, this has variables too.”

Severus sighed, exasperated. “Albus, I did not come up here to be perplexed by your riddles. Either let me take my leave, or talk sense, old man.”

Albus nodded, idly beginning to plait his beard as he spoke. “Quite, quite. All I can say is that you must be prepared if he chooses to turn to you for something again – even if he does not wish to pursue a filial relationship at present, that does not mean he wishes to be out of your life entirely. Remember that children can be fickle and loyal at the same time, Severus.”

“Hmm.” Severus was not convinced. He frowned, trying to hide how he was now more confused than he had been to start with. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to get past Dumbledore.

Albus twinkled. “Lemon drop?”

“No!”

They remained in silence for another couple of moments, before the Headmaster cleared his throat, sounding slightly uncomfortable. Severus looked up, surprised. It was quite unlike the Headmaster to be anything other than completely at home in most circumstances. Why then was he looking so uncertain?

 The Headmaster cleared his throat a second time and met Severus’ gaze.   “I’ve never killed a child before, Severus. And I am afraid my guilt over the matter has prevented me from fully helping you and Harry.” “What?!” Severus choked, completely and utterly floored by the change in topic. “I mean... I beg your pardon?” Killed? A child?!

Albus waved his hand in an attempt to be airy, but the gesture caused him to end up looking more ruffled than Severus could ever remember seeing him. “In Harry’s eyes, the day I cast the Gnothi Seauton was the day I killed his companion. What was his name? Shadow, wasn’t it?”

Severus nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but Albus hadn’t finished speaking.

“Even during the years I was battling Grindelwald, I was never presented with such a horrible quandary. So, you see, I have found it rather difficult to... put this event past me. And before you say anything about how he did not really exist, let me assure you that he was real enough to Harry.”

Severus stilled, remembering the anguish on his son’s face last time he had brought up the subject. “I know.”

Albus smiled sadly “Then, I think you understand me when I say that talking to Harry has been... difficult since then? After all, what right have I? But... If you think it would be to your benefit, I am more than willing to face my demons and speak with him on your behalf.”

Severus forced himself to nod. It comes to something when a man cannot even deal with his own son, but... perhaps Albus can help him. “I believe that would be helpful, Albus. Perhaps you should also take up his education in the old magics – after all you are better versed in them than I... Then he might view it as the necessary education it is, rather than something to avoid because I am involved...”

The Floo activated in an abrupt burst of green, startling both men enough to make them jump. When Minerva’s fretful face appeared in the flames, Severus hurriedly got to his feet even as the first tendrils of dread curdled in his stomach. What has happened now?

“Oh, Albus, you need to do something,” she exclaimed as soon as she saw the Headmaster, a slight tremble inflecting her tone. She seemed to completely miss seeing Severus in her distress. “My cousin has just informed me of the most dreadful news!”

Albus’ demeanour immediately changed from shocked surprise to competent Headmaster. “Calm yourself, Minerva, and tell me what has troubled you. Even better, why not come through?”

Minerva took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she saw Severus already standing there, and stepped through without another word. Had she been in feline form, Severus was sure her tail would have been lashing to and fro. She hadn’t been acting the same towards him since she had found out he tricked her that summer, and Severus was beginning to wonder if she was more upset about that than Harry’s true paternity.

“Albus.” Her voice was still shaking slightly, and Severus grudgingly decided put aside other concerns he had with her, instead guiding her to a chair so that she might calm down better. He received a nod and a speculative look for his efforts before she returned her attention to the Headmaster... and the compulsory tea which had just been pushed into her hand.

“Headmaster, there has been an attack on a Wizarding town close to Aberdeen. Almost all inhabitants are dead or injured... and the Dark Mark was sighted in the sky above,” she said, blinking hard and taking a sip of tea. “I have friends in that town, and have yet to discover if they are all right...”

Severus took a deep breath and shared a look with Albus. They both knew what this meant. Severus could almost have cursed himself for forgetting they were in the middle of a war – and he’d thought Harry had had too many things to focus on.

Albus nodded, looking very grave. “Thank you, Minerva. You may cancel your classes for today if you wish to go upcountry to check upon them.”

Giving a brief nod and draining the rest of her tea, the Scottish witch stood, seeming to draw her usual unflappable attitude around her as she went. “I think I shall do just that. Thank you for the tea, Headmaster. Good day, Severus.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and returned the sentiment. Goodness. That had been almost civil.

As Minerva quickly swept from the room, the portrait of Ethel Weatherly sighed and set her knitting down before creakingly getting to her acrylic feet. “I shall go and keep an eye on her, shall I, Headmaster?”

Albus nodded and gave an open gesture with his hand. “Please do.”

The old face cracked into a smirk that was really quite unsettling. “You young ones. As if I’d ever let my great-granddaughter suffer needlessly if I could do anything to do about it. Good day, Headmaster. Good day, Deary.” And without further ado, she disappeared out the side of her portrait.

Severus stared blankly, forgetting to be irritated about the fact that she was still referring to him by that infernal name. “Great-granddaughter? Those two are related?” he asked Albus, who appeared to be deep in thought. When no answer appeared to be forthcoming, he muttered to himself, “Well, no wonder.”

The portrait resembling one of Malfoy’s ancestors sniffed and looked haughtily down at him. “I often say the same thing myself,” he stated as Phineas Nigellus started cackling in the background.

Severus arched an inquisitive brow. “Really? And are there any more ‘revelations’ you think I should be informed about?”

There was a brief explosion of chatter and Severus found himself whipping his head from one portrait to the next as they all tried to get their story in. He’d known they were gossips, but he hadn’t known they were this bad!

“Death Eaters appear to have left St Mungo’s completely untouched. They haven’t even attempted to enter the building!” – Dilys Derwent.

“How about that ‘Minister’ Fudge has disappeared off the face of the Earth? The only reason Wizarding Britain hasn’t broken apart is because of several senior members of the Ministry, including Alastor Moody, Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt” – Armando Dippet.

“The Ministry was able to relocate many of their records to a small archive in Herefordshire before fleeing London. Ledbury, I think the place was called. In fact, the people Armando mentioned are supposedly working from there... Be careful with this information though – the Death Eaters are as of yet unaware of the specific location of their opposition” – Matthew Cruthers.

“How about the fact that several wayward students have been using a hiding space behind a portrait on the sixth floor to avoid your night-time patrols?” the Malfoy ancestor remarked.

“Oh, have they now?” Severus snapped as his eyes turned towards the portrait whose name plate read ‘Aloysius Malfoy’.

Several portraits chuckled at the irony of him picking up on that specific comment rather than the others.

Severus would quite happily have stayed a while longer, listening to pertinent gossip from the portraits – and collecting possible blackmail material – but their next comments to him were interrupted by Albus.

“Severus, I am sure you realise what Minerva’s news means?”

He returned his attention to the Headmaster, trying to fight the sinking sensation in his stomach. “Voldemort has re-entered the war as an active participant.”

“Exactly.” Albus lowered his eyes for a moment before raising them again, this time with no trace of their usual twinkle accompanying them. “And I am afraid that I must ask you accordingly to... step up your obligations.”

Severus felt a frisson of anger burn through him. “And what about my relationship with my son, Albus?”

The Headmaster stood and strode back to the fireplace, seemingly once again mesmerised by the dancing flames. “I am sorry. I must ask this. We need to be aware of what is happening – many lives depend on it – and while the portraits can gather a great deal of information, there are places that they cannot go. Places which are essential for us to get to in order to piece together the whole picture. You know this already. I shall contact Sirius and have him meet us here within the hour.”

Severus gritted his teeth and turned away, frustrated by how helpless he had become in all of this. “And I assume the mission will in turn last longer than originally planned because of the attack? Instead of being a sweep of the area, it will be a concerted effort to discover as much as possible?” Albus must have nodded, but Severus hadn’t turned to see. Instead, all he heard was the shifting of fabric.

“If we don’t discover why Tom has regained control of everything so suddenly... I could have sworn we would have had at least another month while he settled and secured his new roost.” Albus stood and agitatedly started pacing.

Severus turned in surprise and was in time to see Albus shake his head in frustration, annoyingly reminding him that the Headmaster was indeed only a human, and an old one at that. Slipping his customary, cold mask back into place, he addressed him, “It is possible that the Dark Lord has many more followers than we first supposed.”

“Either that, or he has formed an alliance which we do not know about.”

“Indeed?” he asked warily, slowly easing his weight back onto his left foot, away from the restless Headmaster.

Albus noticed and stepped back behind his desk obligingly. “My apologies for startling you.”

Severus nodded curtly. He was used to playing advisor to Albus and consequently knew the odd moods the old man could get into sometimes when he was strategising. “Continue.”

His friend nodded also and obliged him, “Will you go with Sirius gather all the information you can? You said yourself it would be impossible for him to gather the facts without being caught if only one person went. Preparing ourselves for whatever is next is vital for our side, especially as Tom appears to have a great advantage over us.”

Severus paused for a moment longer before finally caving. Even he could see how much his help was needed in this situation. But... Harry... “I shall of course do all I can to help, Albus.”

The Headmaster seemed to sigh a little in relief as he started shuffling through the mountain of paperwork resting on his desk. “Thank you, my boy.”

Severus grimaced as he gathered his black hair up in one hand, carefully drew his wand with the other and held it poised. “Promise me something, old man?”

Albus glanced up, a ghost of the old twinkle present. “I shall, of course, do my utmost to look after Harry in your absence.”

Severus sighed in vague relief before shifting his focus once more to casting a severing charm to remove all but a couple of inches of hair. Merlin, he hated it like this – it plastered itself to his scalp and made his nose look even more ridiculous – but it was unfortunately necessary. “Give this to the wolf when he and the mutt arrive to relieve me of my teaching duties,” he said, dropping the greasy pile into Albus’ in-tray and trying not to smirk at the old man’s obvious humour at such an act. “Since we do not know when I shall be returning, he had better have a good supply for the Polyjuice.”

Albus twinkled, his good mood temporarily restored. “Won’t you stay here to greet them yourself, Severus?” he asked, a playful lilt entering his tone.

Severus sneered. “Certainly not. Apart from the obvious fact I would rather chew off my own leg than remain in their company any longer than necessary, I have to pack... and I have a letter to write.” He scowled as another thought pricked his memory. “Oh, and, be sure to call Mr Malfoy up to your office for a thorough dressing down. He has taken it upon himself to start denouncing my son in public places, and I do not care for it, especially as others might follow his example.

“Seeing as he is now your ward, I thought I would leave his punishment to you.”

Albus looked thoughtful. “I will look into the matter, Severus.”

He nodded to Albus once, torn between hoping the old man would be harsh and hoping that he wouldn’t. Focusing his thoughts once more on what was needed, he moved towards the Floo – God forbid the students would ever see him with his hair like this – and left in a whirl of flames, his heart feeling suspiciously heavy.

oooOOOooo

Harry ran down the corridor leading to the Potions classroom, almost incredulous of how he’d behaved earlier that day. Had he really said all those things? He didn’t know whether it had been the extra sleep, or the fact he’d got his broom back, or whether it had been Snape clearly showing him that he wasn’t under any pressure from him, but the world certainly seemed a whole lot brighter than it had that morning.

Hopefully if he was quick enough now, he’d be able to get to Potions before the rest of the class and be able to tell his father what an idiot he’d been.

Unfortunately, by the time he’d arrived – Madam Pomfrey had insisted that he have two helpings of everything for lunch and had not allowed him to leave until he’d finished them – most of the class were already seated and his father was fiddling with the blackboard at the front. Trying to hide his disappointment, he hurried in and grabbed the seat between Ron and Hermione.

“Hey, guys!”

His sudden appearance caused his friends to jump, and then, attempt to talk over the top of one another.

Ron did an exaggerated double take. “Who are you and what have you done with Harry Potter? You know, the grumpy git who’s stonily silent during meal times?”

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione grabbed his wrist and stared at him with worried eyes. “Where have you been?”

Harry suppressed a laugh as he fended her off. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t get any sleep and was being a real idiot about it.”

“And McLaggen didn’t help at all by turning up and acting like a prat,” Ron muttered darkly.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, frowning at the almost forgotten memory – the confrontation with Malfoy and then with his father had seemed much more important. “I’m still sorry though. And, Hermione, to answer your question, I’ve been in the Hospital Wing.” He quickly held up his hands to ward off any more horrified comments. “Nothing serious. Just Da- err, Snape noticed that I hadn’t slept and told me to go up. I feel much better now.”

Hermione’s face transformed into a smile as she quickly glanced between him and the front of the room. “Oh, Harry, I’m so glad you’re talking to him again! At first I thought he had done something really awful, and that you might have... but it’s all sorted now, yes?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, noticing that Ron was also watching him closely. He hadn’t realised his friends had really registered the distance between him and his father, and now he was incredibly grateful they had left him to deal with it instead of questioning him constantly.

“Err, well, we talked...”

Hermione nodded encouragingly. “Yes...?” She suddenly looked chagrined. “Oh, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

Harry and Ron chuckled softly at the look on her face – the one she might have used had she been telling them she was giving up reading ‘Hogwarts: a History’ for Lent.

“I don’t mind. Well, we talked and, um, ended up deciding it would be best if we, err, pretended not to be father and son for a while – just teacher and pupil. At least, I think that’s what happened – it’s a bit blurry.”

Ron was gaping and Hermione had her hands to her mouth.

“But, Harry, that’s awful,” she gasped. “How could he do that to you?”

“Err, actually, I did that to him. But don’t worry!” he added quickly, trying to head off Hermione’s disapproving comment. “I realised what an idiot I was being almost right after.” He bit his lip. “It’s just – does he really want me for a son? Or is he just doing this because he thinks it’s the right thing to do...?”

“Harry!” both of his friends exclaimed loudly, causing Snape to turn and glare at them until they ducked their heads and stared at the desk for a few moments.

Ron nodded at Hermione and she continued, “How long had this been going around in your head?” Her lips were pursed – never a good sign.

“Uh, I guess since the beginning.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, it’s obvious to a blind person that Professor Snape cares about what happens to you. Just think what would have happened to you last year if you’d tried to mouth off at Malfoy like that! But what happened instead? You got sent to catch up on sleep!” She shook her head as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself.

“She’s right, mate,” Ron put in. “If you’d done that last year, you’d have been in detention for the rest of your life and Gryffindor would be down a whole lot of points. Not even You-Know-Who could force him to do that if he didn’t want to.”

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, feeling a slow smile spread across his face. Of course they were right! Of course he mattered to Snape. It had been even something he’d taken for granted the last weeks at the Manor. Just because they were back at school didn’t mean to say that that had changed at all, even if the Manor and school now felt like they were a million miles away from each other. He had been daft to try and keep this from his friends – if only he’d remembered sooner that in the past, talking to them had always helped him clarify matters. He quickly resolved not to keep anything from them from now on. After all, they would keep his secrets safe.

“Yeah, you’re right! But, if you think about it...” at this point, Harry’s smile became a full grown grin, “he did send me straight to bed for it.”

Ron and Hermione’s second exclamation of “Harry!” caused Snape to sneer in their direction this time and take points from Gryffindor, but Harry found he didn’t really mind – they were being very noisy after all... as well as paying no attention to the lecture he had already started.

Ron gulped and ducked his head, quickly scrawling a note and shoving it at Harry under the desk.

‘Ha ha, very funny,’ it read. ‘But just think about it – when you told us about everything on the train, it was like you’d overdosed on Fizzing Whizzbees. True, you did look a bit depressed about something, but you cheered right up once you were talking about Snape. Downright weird if you ask me.’

Harry gave Ron a half-smile and handed the note over to Hermione so she could read it. Inside, his mind was whirling. Didn’t I just promise to myself that I wouldn’t keep anything more from my friends? Damn, I did. That means I’ll have to tell them about Shadow... but how can I do that when I can’t even bring myself to talk about him to the people who already know? I need to talk to Dad now more than ever now. How could I be so daft as to think cutting him off would help? And if he really does care, how would that have made HIM feel?

The lesson dragged on interminably, making Harry twitch with the thought of how much he wanted it to end. The monotony was only broken by Neville’s cauldron boiling over spectacularly in the middle of the lesson and the little notes he, Ron, and Hermione passed amongst themselves. This year he and Ron had finally managed to persuade Hermione that passing notes in class was not the epitome of evil, much to their delight.

Sometime near the end of the lesson, once he was sure Snape really wasn’t looking their way, Harry made sure to shove a chocolate frog Ron had given him into Neville’s shaking hands. The nervous boy flashed Harry a quick smile before returning his unblinking stare to where Snape was softly praising a Slytherin’s efforts with his potion. Harry was slightly puzzled by this – Snape had actually started being slightly more decent towards Houses other than his own during the weeks Harry had been ignoring him, but now he seemed to have reverted to his usual level of tyranny.

Is it because he doesn’t feel he has to try anymore because of our agreement? Or because I upset him? Harry frowned, and vowed to speak with his father about that as well at the end of class.

Finally the bell rang and Harry waved his friends to continue on to their next lesson without him – all the while knowing that they would wait in the corridor for him despite this – and made his way to the front of the classroom to where Snape was standing.

“Sir, could I speak to you privately for a moment?”

Snape frowned down at him for a moment. “Very well,” he said eventually. “I have something I need to talk to you about as well.”

Harry gulped. This didn’t sound good. Besides that, there was something odd about the cadence of the man’s speech as he addressed him. Had Harry really upset him that much?

“Listen, Dad, I’m really sorry about what I said earlier this morning, I didn’t mean any of it...” he tried to rush out, intent on setting everything right but was abruptly broken off by Snape’s hand making a sharp silencing motion. Harry took a step back, his throat becoming thick. What did this mean? Wasn’t Snape going to forgive him? But he’d seemed fine about it earlier!

Harry watched despondently as the man quickly locked the door and threw up silencing wards around them. It was a few more moments before the man turned back to him.

“Now, Harry, we can talk freely,” he said warmly. Too warmly. “If you would be kind enough to wait for a few moments, I should be able to clear everything up for you.”

Harry stared at Snape confused, stunned. The man never talked to him like that. There was always an underlying sharpness to his words – something Harry had come to recognise as the man’s wit and intellect showing through. Something – oddly – Harry realised he had been beginning to view as a sign of comfort... security.

Weird... Harry shook his head and wrinkled his nose as he glanced again at the placidly smiling Snape. That was another thing – his father never smiled for so long for no reason, and not so blandly either. Had he been hit by some kind of charm, or...?

He gasped as his second suspicion came true before his eyes – Snape’s black hair melted back into in his, becoming sandy instead. He lost some of his height and his face changed from sharp angles into rounder features covered in soft lines. The transformation was over before Harry could catch his breath.

“Professor Lupin! Err, Remus,” he exclaimed in delight before falling silent and asking in a softer voice, “Where’s Dad?”

“Harry...” Remus smiled sadly before continuing, “I’m afraid Professor Snape was called away on his mission earlier than expected. I am sorry, but I have no idea when he or Sirius will return. He did, however, leave something behind for me to give you. Here.”

Remus reached into the desk, brought out a sealed letter and handed it to him. Harry took it numbly, vaguely recognising the Prince family seal indenting the wax holding the parchment closed. Did this mean that Snape was really... gone?

“Thanks, Remus,” he said dully, letting his hand holding the letter fall to his side. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t want to open it in company.

“Well, then,” Remus continued to smile, but it looked a little strange as his eyes conveyed his worry, “I’ve been hoping that we can use this time with me posing as Professor Snape to catch up again. Can you believe we haven’t seen each other since the summer?” Remus chuckled and shook his head. “I have it on good authority that Sirius has been missing you terribly. Perhaps you might be able to persuade the Professor to let him visit you once they return?”

Harry shrugged. “Sure.” As much as it was wonderful to see the Marauder again, he was dying to go and read the letter from his father. What had he said? Was it instructions? Comfort? Forgiveness of Harry’s increasingly rude and callous behaviour? He swallowed and tried to focus on what Remus was saying.

“Now, Harry.” The man stood and leaned against the desk. “The Headmaster told us of all the events that occurred this summer. Is it true? Is Severus truly your father?”

Harry gulped as he remembered how he had ignored the man’s mail – of course he wouldn’t know about Snape – and nodded. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

“And is he treating you well? Forgive me, Harry, but you seem incredibly quiet. Is everything alright?”

Harry nodded again. “Yes, I’m fine, it’s just... I said some pretty awful things to him this morning, and he took them very well, but I know I must have hurt him with what I said and I really wanted to apologise before he left.” Harry looked sadly down at the letter. “And now I can’t.”

“Harry.” Strong arms pulled him into a hug and he leaned into the warmth, glad of not having to be alone, even if it was for just this moment. “I will be here if you wish to talk. About anything. Just like your third year, yes?”

Harry smiled a little and nodded before pulling out of the embrace. “OK. Thanks. He really is treating me well, you know. Yes, we have rocky patches, but then, don’t all new relationships?”

Remus laughed and ruffled Harry’s hair. “Stop behaving like you’re forty instead of fourteen. Even your mother wasn’t as sensible as you are at your age! And besides, you don’t need to convince me, Harry. If you say you’re happy, I trust you.”

Harry smiled, feeling his heart warm properly for the first time in a long while. “I know I don’t. But I need you on my side to help convince Sirius!”

Remus let out a full laugh. “That sounds about right. Off to classes with you! How about you come round to Severus’ quarters tomorrow after dinner and we’ll talk then?”

Harry grinned. “Sounds great! See you!” He only glanced back once – when he reached the classroom door – and was in time to see Remus swallow a dark blue potion which started to transform the man back into the one he was masquerading as with a grimace.

“Oh, and Harry?” The timbre of the voice was an odd combination of both men for a moment as it settled into Snape’s deeper tones. “The fewer people know about this, the better. Severus gave me permission to tell you, but not Ron and Hermione, I’m afraid. Can I have your word that you won’t tell them?”

“Of course, Professor,” Harry said lightly before closing the door behind him and weaving between the younger students waiting outside. Predictably, several jumped back, giving him a wide berth. Not on your life. No more secrets – not anymore.

“Hey, guys,” he muttered as he came alongside Ron and Hermione. “We’re skipping History.”

Hermione looked utterly scandalised. “No, we are not, Harry James!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, yes we are,” he whispered, grabbing her arm and tugging her along behind him. Ron followed much more complacently. “There’s something very, very important that I have to tell you.”

They ended up retreating to the dormitory and casting a Silencing spell on the door. Hermione was still extremely huffy about deliberately skipping classes but her attitude changed radically the moment he let her know about Remus.

“Professor Lupin is here?” she hissed incredulously.

“Pretending to be Snape?” Ron added, a chocolate frog dropping out of his nerveless fingers. “Why?”

Harry blew out a breath. “Told you you’d want to know about this right away. Now, Snape told me he was being called away on a mission for Dumbledore at the beginning of October, but something happened to make him leave now instead. I’m hoping the answer lies in this letter.” He produced the parchment bearing the Prince seal and handed it to them. “It’s from him to me. Hopefully it’ll explain everything. If not, well...” He shrugged, wondering if he really dared open the letter to find out what its contents were.

Ron accepted the parchment from Hermione and squinted at the seal before handing it back. “Why not open it now?” he asked.

“Well, uh.” Harry glanced down and peaked up from under his fringe. “I kinda wanted to read it alone first, but I promise you can read it right after.”

Hermione reached out and patted his hand. “It’s alright, Harry. It’s your personal letter and you don’t even have to talk about anything that’s inside it, let alone show it to us.”

Harry smiled while Ron flushed. “Sorry,” he muttered, his ears now the same colour as his hair. “Shoulda thought of that – sorry.”

Harry grinned at him and punched his arm. “S’OK, Ron. I know I can tell you guys anything, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ron grinned back and returned the punch. His was slightly stronger than Harry’s, but Harry was surprised and pleased to note his taller body could withstand it much easier than it used to – another thing to thank Snape for.

“And, uh.” Harry stopped, swallowing hard and staring fixedly at the bedcovers. This was so difficult already and he hadn’t even said anything yet. “There’s something else I have to tell you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and he knew he had captured his friends full attention – even Ron had stopped fidgeting. “About this summer.”

Hermione shifted closer and laid a hand on his arm but didn’t say anything.

“I, uh...” He pulled his arm out from underneath her hand, giving her an apologetic smile as he did so, because he had to do this alone. The thing that had been pressing on him since the summer, the thing he had tried to bury but that he had sometimes wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, was finally coming to the surface. “This summer, I...” his voice still didn’t rise above that same, low whisper as he confessed his greatest secret, “I got to know someone. And care for them. And that person... they... they died.”

There, it was out. Finally. He’d told someone. And it hurt, oh it hurt, but it felt the tiniest bit better as well because he wasn’t as alone as he had been. His cheeks were wet and he came to realise that he was crying – bitter tears, relieved tears, he didn’t know the difference – and he tried to turn away, ashamed that he couldn’t control himself.

His friends wouldn’t let him. They both shifted closer and wrapped him up in a hug that felt like it was the only thing holding him together.

They sat in silence for five minutes, letting Harry’s tears dry, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Hermione whispered, “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry,” in a low, shaky voice and the spell was broken.

Harry sniffed and scrubbed his face as his friends backed up a little to give him some breathing room. “S’OK. I feel better now I’ve told you. Don’t know why I didn’t straight away.” He glanced up to see that Ron’s face was unusually solemn and Hermione looked a bit weepy.

“It was still too raw. You needed time to adjust,” she said softly. “But I am glad you’ve told us.”

Harry smiled weakly and reached out to squeeze her hand. “Are you good at everything, Hermione? Hang about, would you? Us blokes need to catch up sometime.”

The weak joke seemed to lighten the mood and Harry found himself able to breathe easier. True, he was still feeling very fragile, but how he felt overall was mostly, Oh, was that it?

Salem hissed and twisted tighter around his left wrist in comfort – which was now officially his favourite place to hide these days. Harry strongly suspected it was because he liked to poke his head out every now and again and scare people. “Humansss! You always make things more complicated than they need to be. For a sssserpent, it’s simple – you eat it, or it eatsss you.”

Harry let out a surprised, hissing laugh. “Thankssss, Salem.” He let the little snake slide down his arm and run over and through his hands, smiling as the iridescent scales tickled his skin. Salem had grown a great deal very quickly. Originally, Harry had been able to fit the entire snake in one cupped palm, but now Salem could coil around his forearm three times and still be able to flicker his tongue at Harry’s fingers. Luckily the books said the Ophidian wouldn’t grow much more – possibly only a couple of inches – so Harry wouldn’t have to worry about where to keep him.

Harry eventually let Salem slip away to look for food. He always found it very strange that both his familiars only seemed to need affection from him and a warm place to sleep at night. They were both very independent.

Like me, I suppose, Harry mused. But I don’t need to be anymore. I have Snape, and Remus, and Sirius. And Ron and Hermione. I’m very lucky. More lucky than I ever thought I’d be before I learned that magic really existed.

Smiling a little, Harry glanced back up at both of his friends who were currently – no surprise – bickering about something. “Hey,” he said softly. “Would you like to hear about my friend?”

That shut them up quickly.

Hermione leant forward, looking concerned. “Of course we’d love to,” she said while Ron nodded seriously in the background.

Harry drew himself up to his full height. “All right, then.”

And so he told them. Everything. Right from the first moment he’d seen the boy in the mirror, to when he’d named him, to how he aided Harry’s escape from Privet Drive, to all their combined antics in Snape’s Manor, to the very end.

Hermione cried in places, and they all laughed in others. When Harry told them about how the spell Dumbledore had cast had made Shadow forget everything and then made him disappear, both Harry and Hermione had tears in their eyes and even Ron looked a little sad. But, for a moment in the telling, it was almost as if he had made Shadow come to life again by talking about him.

And finally he told them about the spell itself – mainly because he knew Hermione was dying to ask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Ron said, wrinkling his nose. “A wizard created a spell, that wasn’t any use, so he created another spell to make the first spell work and then cast the second spell on some poor unsuspecting boy to prove it worked... and then cast the first spell to release him?”

Harry took a moment to untangle what Ron had just said. “Yup, pretty much.”

Ron scrunched up his face even more before staring at Hermione. “I am so confused.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, honestly. Shall I explain it to you in Ron-speak? One spell,” she held up a finger, “changes someone’s appearance so that they look like they have a different father. The second spell,” she held up a finger of her other hand, “changes them back to how they’re meant to look. Only the second spell was created before the first, and that spell was the one Dumbledore cast on Harry over the holidays. Yes?”

Ron folded his arms grumpily. “You don’t have to make it sound like I’m completely retarded.”

“Sometimes that’s the only thing that’ll get through to you,” Hermione muttered darkly as the bell for the end of lessons rang.

“Oi!”

“Guys!” Harry intervened before their fight could escalate. “Lessons are over. How about we go outside and fly a bit?”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like flying and you know it.”

“Why not sit under a tree and read for a bit, then? The weather’s still warm enough and there are hardly any clouds. Besides, I’ll come down and join you when I read my letter, OK?”

He knew she’d caved the second he’d mentioned an activity involving books, but he’d continued persuading for appearance’s sake, just as Hermione had put up some token resistance – she’d already known she would end up reading with the boys practicing stunts close by. It had happened far too many times for it to be a surprise anymore. Besides, it was a good way to spend the remainder of an afternoon, with all of them doing things they loved, and knowing that they could stop any moment and regroup to chat if they felt like it.

And so, the dwindling afternoon light found Harry and Ron high above the castle, yelling and whooping, and Hermione settled happily in the shade of an oak tree. There were other people out and about due to the nice weather but they might as well have belonged to another world.

“Betcha can’t catch me!” Harry shouted at Ron, letting go of the broom with his hands as it fell into a steep dive.

“Betcha I can!” Ron yelled behind him, already in hot pursuit.

They’d almost covered more than half the distance to the ground before Harry spotted something. “Shit! McGonagall! Look out!”

Both of them had to do a sharp turn and dart behind a nearby tower – Ron taking slightly longer than Harry to do so – but they managed to make it in time before McGonagall looked up and spotted them. They stayed there for another moment, panting and laughing at their success at getting away with their stunt. True, the Head of Gryffindor had allowed Harry onto the Quidditch team because of risky flying in his first year, but there was no way she’d condone flying with no hands! (Unless, maybe, there was a snitch involved).

“Phew!” Ron finally exclaimed, swiping some straggly hairs off his face. “That was close! Ready to go again?” He grinned – his expression one that any daredevil would recognise – but Harry reluctantly shook his head.

“We haven’t been down to see Hermione all afternoon. She could be getting lonely.”

Ron snorted. “With al those books? Never!” He paused, looking unusually cautious. “Harry...”

“Yes, Ron?” Harry asked, puzzled as to why his friend suddenly sounded so hesitant.

“You said...” Ron paused before bravely continuing, “You said that you did stunts with Shadow one time. Was he any good?” Ron’s tone was light and unpressing but Harry still had to fight the urge to clam up.

“Yeah,” he finally forced out, trying to keep his tone equally airy, “at some points I even thought he would beat me!”

“Well, then,” Ron laughed, seeming more at ease. “Looks like I have competition to live up to! Race you to Hermione!” he yelled and shot off, leaving Harry laughing in his wake.

Harry’s Firebolt won the race in the end, but it was a close thing.

Unsurprisingly, after they’d arrived, Hermione only glanced up once to irritably mutter, “Oh, it’s you,” before diving right back into her books, causing the boys to laugh a little at her reaction.

“See, told you!” Ron sniggered before nabbing one of the Quidditch magazines Hermione had brought with her and sprawling out on the grass with it a little way away.

Harry smiled at both his friends before retreating around the dark side of the tree to read his letter. It did not contain what he expected.

‘My dear son,’ it read, and Harry had to scrub his eyes and read it again before he could believe his vision wasn’t playing tricks on him.

He went to the next line which also made him blink a little bit once he’d read it, ‘(And, yes, you are dear to me, no matter what I might say or how I may act).

‘Doubtless by the time you read this, I will have already left on my mission with the mutt. (No, before you ask, I am not having a nice time. It is perfectly dreadful).’ Harry chuckled a little as he imagined Snape scowling as he wrote this. ‘I will not lie to you and say that our journey is without risk, but I can also assure you that I have no intention of getting myself killed, or indeed allowing your dear godfather to do the same while playing at being a Gryffindor.

‘I am afraid I am unable to tell you when I will return and I regret that you will not be able to send me owls during this period – as well as vice versa. You must simply have faith in me that I am keeping myself (and the mutt) safe and that I am thinking of you.’ Harry had to stop at this point and swallow back the stupid lump in his chest as he thought of how hard it must have been for Snape to write the letter and expose himself this much.

He read on, and chuckled weakly as he discovered that Snape had already correctly guessed where his thoughts were heading, ‘You may be wondering why I am currently so candid with you. The truth is this – I am a Slytherin and always will be, meaning that I will manipulate every possible situation to the advantage of me and my own. By telling you this now, you might have already assimilated any feelings this letter may have provoked by the time I return, thus leading to no negative repercussions between us. As you may have already noticed, I am not – skilled – in dealing with other people’s emotions. It is my hope that you be able to understand and accept this of me.’

Harry nodded, though he knew Snape couldn’t see him. He had already begun to work that out by himself.

‘And now, you foolish child, I shall berate you as you have no doubt been expecting this whole letter. If you are feeling discomforted other something – not matter how insignificant it may seem – you will come and talk to me. Adults have a perspective children do not, and despite being new to being a father, I am certain that I would be able to find a solution to whatever problems you might currently hold. Write any down that might occur while I’m away and we will discuss them upon my return. Or tell Professor McGonagall, or the Headmaster – they will listen and help you also. Failure to comply with this will earn my displeasure – as both your father and your teacher.’

Harry gulped. OK, OK, point made!

‘Hopefully by now you will have realised that I shall attempt to be there whenever you have need of me – whether as a father or teacher, whichever you have need for at the time – but that you must first ask in order for this to happen.

‘Lastly, I must inform you that the Headmaster has agreed to take upon your wandless magic lessons in my stead. You will go and you will listen to what he has to say, otherwise you might end up with a few more handwriting exercises... Do I make myself clear?’ Harry made a face and nodded, then almost laughed at the letter’s next words. ‘Good boy. Lupin has currently taken over my teaching position and is masquerading as me to conceal my absence. I daresay you are disgustingly thrilled at being able to spend more time with the werewolf. No matter, I suppose it can’t be helped.’

Harry grinned as he imagined his father’s long suffering expression.

‘Both the Headmaster and he seem to think you will be trustworthy and keep their secret from everyone, including Granger and Weasley. I know this to be a ridiculous oversight, but I suppose that if you are convinced of their trustworthiness, you may have my permission to tell them. (I don’t know why I’m wasting my ink – of course you already have).’

Harry tried to look chagrined, but a grin kept breaking through. It was obvious that Snape had gone out of his way to make sure Harry found his letter humorous.

‘And now I must draw this letter to a close, for it is time for me to leave. I would be most gratified if you looked after yourself and remained in one piece during my absence. I suppose if you are good for the time being, I could possibly be persuaded to allow your godfather to visit with you.’

‘Stay safe, Harry – Your Father.

‘P.S. When you have the time, go to my quarters. There is something there I would like you to have.’

There was an untidily scrawled word in between Harry’s name and ‘your’. It took Harry five minutes to work out that the word said ‘love’.

Ignoring the leap in his chest, Harry held the letter tight and leaned back against the tree, desperately trying to blink away his tears even as he smiled. His father did care. He did, he did, he did!

oooOOOooo

Shadow stared at the dark grey barrier in front of him and gulped. It had taken him what seemed like both forever and no time at all to walk to this point and now he was finally here, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. The dark seemed to have a magnetic pull of its own – trying to reach out and tug his soul into its depths. Unconsciously, Shadow wrapped his magic tight around himself and tried to stand stock still.

The menacing darkness shifted and swirled, leaving Shadow frozen to the spot, eyeing it warily. What now? What next? The pull inside of himself had led him this far, but no further. How long was he meant to wait?

Just as he thought this, a movement before him caught his eye and he gasped in a shocked breath as a figure appeared and walked towards him. A figure whose shape seemed hauntingly familiar...

oooOOOooo

Severus stumbled out of the last ditch he hoped to see in a VERY long time and into the outskirts of London. His clothes were already caked in more mud than he cared to examine and, thanks to the need to perform no magic unless absolutely necessary, it was likely they would stay that way for quite a while.

Black was, thankfully, remaining silent – mostly due to the fact that he had spent the whole journey in dog form – otherwise Severus wasn’t quite sure if he would have been able to refrain from magic long enough to prevent himself from casting an Avada Kedavra. However, shockingly, when silent and not at liberty to insult each other, they made a surprisingly good team.

They had both Apparated to a location ten miles from London sometime around two o’clock, having not known how far out Voldemort’s patrols would go. After all, Voldemort had now made crystal clear that London was his territory these days. It had taken them barely half an hour after arriving to stumble far too close for comfort to one such patrol, and they would have been caught if it hadn’t been for Black’s sensitive nose.

There had been several similar instances – though a couple of them involved Severus yanking Black out of the way of anti-magical creature traps, so he didn’t feel quite as humiliated as he might have been otherwise. They had already been very lucky and it was only the first day. Severus now wasn’t holding out much hope for the successful completion of the mission, despite what he’d written in his letter to Harry what now felt like months ago instead of merely hours...

He forced his mind away from that topic. He needed to remain focused and being distracted by whether or not he thought he’d written the right things in a letter to his son was not the way to go about it.

“Black,” he hissed out of the side of his mouth as he crouched in the shadows beside someone’s dustbin. “Black!”

The big, black dog appeared seemingly out of nowhere and growled a warning, showing more teeth than was strictly necessary. Severus bit back a scathing retort. Neither of them needed that now.

“Keep an eye out for somewhere to rest. We need somewhere to regroup. Let’s go,” he murmured, keeping his sentences as clipped as possible.

The dog watched him out of narrowed eyes before giving a sharp nod and departed, giving Severus a nip as he went, which Severus assumed was a reprimand for talking when it wasn’t strictly necessary. After all, there were certain spells that could track sound... not that Severus really thought they would work properly in London, suburbs or not, but it was the principle of the matter.

After that, Severus was forced to silently follow Black through several people’s back gardens and dark alleys, which was all very well for a dog, but very difficult for a man to do surreptitiously. Still, Black knew London from his last few doggy-visits there and Severus had to bow to his superior knowledge, much as it rankled.

Finally – what felt like half the night later – Black wriggled under someone’s fence and into a gap between the fence and their shed. It was an extremely tight fit for Severus to squirm in there with him, but thankfully there was more space in between the back of the shed, a wall and a large buddleia bush.

Severus stretched out his long legs and sighed in relief. This little excursion had definitely proved what he had originally suspected – he was far too old for jaunts like this.

Black transformed and sat opposite him, cross-legged and glaring.

Severus rolled his eyes and glared back. “What?” he hissed, still careful to keep his voice low.

“You know what!” Black whispered back hotly. “We’re supposed to keep silent at all times unless it’s an emergency!”

“It was an emergency,” Severus grumbled under his breath. “I was hungry.”

Unfortunately, Black heard him and opened his mouth, no doubt to rebuke him further, but Severus luckily managed to tug a sandwich out of his pack and shove it at him before the man could get any further.

“It’s called sarcasm Black, you should try it sometime,” he murmured, tucking into his own sandwich, trying to remember his resolution to be nicer to Black for Harry’s sake. “Besides, a human needs more rests than a dog AND I was carrying both your bag and mine.”

Black subsided with a huff and continued munching. Then, grudgingly, he mumbled, “We can work on fashioning a harness for me so I can wear the bag when I transform. You won’t have to carry it then, which means you’ll have nothing to complain about.”

Severus fought back a reply that went somewhere along the lines of, ‘Oh, and when Death Eaters notice a Grim with a backpack, they will obviously pass that off as normal,’ and instead said, “There is no need for that. I am more than capable of carrying both; besides, you need to keep your agility for the benefit of both of us.”

Black carelessly shrugged up one shoulder and curled his lip. “Fine. Just don’t slow us down.”

Severus closed his eyes and leaned more heavily against the fence, which was thankfully quite sturdy. Biting back hateful remarks was more energy consuming than he thought it would be, and if Black was also doing his best, well... they were in for a long, difficult mission. Besides, the extended, furtive journey they had untaken was starting to get to him.

Black snorted and muttered something into the darkness before raising his voice a tiny bit, “We’ll sleep here for a bit – it’s safe enough for a short bit. I can doze and watch at the same time as a dog.”

The unexpected peace offering startled Severus enough to open his eyes and take in the gaunt, rangy man sprawled across from him, unsure about how exactly to respond.

“Very well,” he conceded eventually. “Wake me in a few hours and we’ll move on.”

Black’s grey eyes glittered nastily. “Oh, I’ll do that. Sleep well, Sni... Snape,” he crooned in the most unsettling manner.

Severus sneered and closed his eyes uneasily. Trying not to imagine the manner in which he would be woken, he allowed himself to drift. His last thought before sleep overtook him was, I hope Harry is all right...

Just as the sun crept up over the horizon, Severus found himself suddenly drenched in what felt like a barrel-full of ice water.

Choking and spluttering – but at least having the presence of mind not to scream – Severus glared up at his adversary from his previously comfortable nest of leaves. “You had better hope I don’t catch pneumonia, Black. Or had your pea-brain forgotten that we can’t do magic here?”

Black cheerfully dropped the rusting metal bucket he’d foraged from somewhere and bounced over to where the packs were settled. “Don’t complain to me! You said you wanted a wake-up call... only you forgot to mention in what manner.” Black glanced over his shoulder and gave him a cocky grin.

“Imbecile! That’s the last time I ask you for anything!”

“Careful, now, Snape.” Black hunched down beside him and wagged a finger. “If this is the kind of reception I get, I might never do anything you ask me again.”

Severus seethed, clenching his teeth against the flow of vitriol he longed to release. “It is not funny, Black. I’m freezing and will probably develop a cold, which I shall be certain to give directly to you! This is a fine method of repayment for all the times I saved your hide yesterday!”

“Fine, fine!” Black held up his hands and rolled his eyes. “God, Snape, take a joke!”

“I will not, seeing as it was not funny in the slightest!”

“For pity’s sake, live a little!”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “May I remind you that I currently am in sole custody of a certain Harry Snape, formerly Harry Potter, and can completely ban you from seeing him any time I choose?”

Black’s eyes went wide. “Not fair, Snape! You said I could see him!”

Severus nodded imperiously and cleared his throat. “So long as we understand each other. Now, I’m assuming we’ll need to move before the family in the house wake and come to investigate what has taken up residence behind their shed.” He heaved himself to his feet, and hoisted the packs with him. “Well, Black, are you coming?”

Black growled something uncomplimentary under his breath, then grudgingly muttered, “This way,” and morphed into his dog form, whereupon the grumbling took on the resonance of soft snarls.

In general, despite being rather soggy, Severus was feeling quite good about himself. They had made it into London without major incident or injury, Black was disgruntled about something, and completely unable to talk until they stopped travelling. Things were looking up.

Now, if only they could find somewhere safe to hole up during the day, so they could find a way to spy on the Death Eaters under cover of darkness...

oooOOOooo

Harry stopped at the top of the moving staircase and fidgeted in front of the door to Dumbledore’s office. He knew he should go in, he really did, but something was preventing him from doing so as surely as a brick wall might have.

How should he act? He hadn’t seen the Headmaster on a one-to-one basis since Privet Drive. And somehow Harry felt that bringing up the ‘conditioning’ of your relatives wasn’t the best way to start up a conversation. With anyone. Let alone the person responsible for it. And the time before that... well... it would be for best if everyone forgot about that. But was Dumbledore still expecting him to be furious about it? The note that had summoned him fifteen minutes ago had seemed genial enough, but what if it wasn’t?

Sighing heavily, Harry crossed his fingers in his pocket and knocked sharply on the door. The new phoenix mural winked at him. Harry smiled back, deciding that he liked it already and idly wondering what his father thought of it.

Then Dumbledore called him in and all thoughts of wall paintings (or door paintings in this case) went right out of his head.

He pushed open the door. “Headmaster, you...” he started before he trailed off and stared, dumbfounded, at the person occupying one of the chairs by the fire.

Malfoy sneered in disgust, slammed the book he had been reading and stalked out past Harry without a word, leaving Harry to wonder if stalking was exclusively a Slytherin thing.

Incredulous, he turned to the Headmaster the moment the door had slammed. “What on earth was he doing up here?” he exclaimed loudly, earlier reticence forgotten.

“Well, he is my ward, Harry. He may come up to these rooms whenever he wishes,” Dumbledore said gently, censure evident in his tone, and making Harry remember he was supposed to be angry with the man... or something.

Guiltily, he slunk over to the seat in front of the Headmaster’s desk and muttered a soft, “Sorry, sir,” as he sunk into it.

Dumbledore waved an airy hand, startling Fawkes, who looked up sharply from his perch. Harry smiled at the fire bird as it gave him a gentle warble of greeting before settling back into a doze. The Headmaster smiled and stroked his familiar’s head. “Do not trouble yourself, Harry. I am certain you will remember next time.” Dumbledore paused to look sadly at the vacated chair. “I myself will have to remember to ask young Mr Malfoy to return my book though.”

Harry fidgeted, unsure of what to say to that, and equally unsure if he should take it as another hint. “You wanted to see me?” he asked uncertainly after another moment.

“Ah, yes!” Dumbledore exclaimed, seeming to startle himself out of gazing at the ceiling. “Now, I daresay you have already discovered that your father has been unfortunately called away by duty?”

“Yes. By you,” Harry said, feeling sullen.

Dumbledore at least had the grace to look chagrined. “Yes. However, it is my hope as well as yours that he returns speedily from it. He does lend a certain atmosphere to the castle.” The Headmaster paused and seemed to cock his head to one side as he regarded Harry. “In the mean time, he requested that I take up your tuition in wandless magic. Now, what do you think of that?”

Harry tried to muster up the initial thrilling excitement he had felt when he had first discovered that he could do wandless magic... and hardly came up with anything. Both of the people he associated with that excitement were missing, and without them, what was it but just another lesson he was being forced to learn?

He shrugged. “All right, I suppose.”

Dumbledore appeared to be trying not to smile. “Just all right? Nothing more than that?”

Harry shrugged again.

“Ah.” Dumbledore laced his fingers together. “And what if I were to tell you that I am able to use wandless magic to tell me the exact location of every single Hogwarts’ inhabitant? With the help of her wards, of course. It is rather like that wonderful Map of yours, I think.”

Harry found himself gaping slightly, and not just because Dumbledore knew about the map. He hurriedly shut his mouth. “Everyone?” he asked incredulously. “All at once?” He fell silent and thought for a moment. “You’re spying on people?”

Dumbledore looked torn between laughing and raising his eyes to heaven, but only for a moment. “No, Harry, I am not spying on people.” This time he did allow his mouth to twitch into a smile. “I merely stated that if I so choose, I can link myself directly to the wards and be able to find any person within Hogwarts at any time – like a missing student or hiding staff member. I can’t actually see them. I simply know where they are.”

“Any person?” Harry tried to wrap his mind around the concept. “Can you... can you do it at a distance from the castle? How about someone who you don’t know their name? Could you, say, tell me where Malfoy is now?”

Dumbledore twinkled. “That’s the spirit, Harry.”

Harry tried to glower but was unable to keep it up for long. “It’s still spying.”

The Headmaster let out a chuckle. “If you say so. Now, would you like the answers to your questions?”

Harry perched on the edge of his chair. “Yes, please.”

“Very well. Yes, I can locate any person regardless of whether I know their name. I would know that there’s a person there; I simply would not know who they were. Rather like when there’s someone walking behind you – you know they are there, but not who they are. Of course, if I am familiar with someone’s magical signature, I can pinpoint them. Understand?”

“I think so.” Harry nodded, unsure at which point exactly he’d regained his enthusiasm for the subject matter. Maybe that was another talent of the Headmaster’s. “Where’s Malfoy then?”

Dumbledore huffed a laugh. “I should have known better than try and distract you from him. After spending a couple of fruitless minutes trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, he headed down to the library and is currently engaged in conversation with a person I’m assuming is Miss Pansy Parkinson. Probably complaining about me again,” Dumbledore told Harry conspiratorially. “He thinks I don’t know these things.”

Harry smirked back. “How could anyone not know? It’s what he does best.”

Dumbledore tilted his head to one side. “Maybe one day you will discover that there are more qualities to Mr Malfoy than that.”

“Yeah, like being spoilt. Or snide. He did a brilliant impression of that the other day in the Entrance Hall.”

The Headmaster rubbed his hands together, looking unimpressed with the topic. “I have dealt with the matter you have mentioned accordingly,” he stated peaceably enough to his hands.

“Oh yeah? What did you do to him?” Harry asked viciously, hoping to gather some dirt on the other boy to get him back with.

“I seem to remember talking with your father more than once on the matter of treating a certain boy better than he did,” Dumbledore said, pursing his lips.

Harry shuddered. “Please don’t say Malfoy is going to turn out to be my long lost brother or something.” Besides, I only have one brother. Oh, and you killed him.

The older wizard looked somewhat amused. “No, I can quite safely assure you that you and young Mr Malfoy share no familial connection other than through the same distant connections there are in all pureblood families. Now, you asked me about how distance affected my ability to read the castle’s inhabitants, yes?”

Harry shrugged and let the subject be changed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Distance has always been a factor in magic. The further away you are from an object, the more difficult it is to perform the spell, and I am afraid that I am oblivious to what may be happening inside the castle as soon as I am outside her wards.”

Harry found himself feeling strangely disappointed. Apparently there were limits to even wandless magic. “Oh, OK.”

“Right then,” Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping his hands together once cheerfully. “Let’s see what you can do.” He gestured towards the many instruments that ticked and whirred around the office. “Pick any one you feel drawn to and we shall begin.”

“Wait.” Harry leapt to his feet, and quickly weaved among the little tables they stood upon. “You mean all these – all this time – are objects that help with wandless magic?!”

Dumbledore came and stood behind him. “For the most part, yes. Some of them are just fascinating curios I’ve come across. Now, why don’t you try this one?” He pointed at the table in front of Harry where an ordinary, pale block of... something... sat. “It is fairly simple, and a wonderful way of altering your perceptions of reality.”

Somehow, I think you’re the last person who needs that! Harry thought as he carefully picked it up and held it out. “What should I do with it?”

The Headmaster twinkled. “Improvise.”

Harry ended up spending the better part of an hour struggling to twist the thing into different shapes and altering its colour, leaving him tired and frustrated with his seeming lack of progress. Dumbledore only offered a few of words of praise on the work Harry had done before dismissing him, only pausing to remind him that their weekly lesson time would now be on Sunday afternoons.

Harry’s circular thoughts about the differences between Dumbledore’s method of instructing and Snape’s sent an odd spark of homesickness through him, and he unconsciously turned his feet towards Snape’s office. I was only when he’d already knocked did he remember that he was probably disturbing Remus, but by then it was too late.

“Harry?” The man who’d opened the door leaned against the frame in a typical ‘Lupin’ gesture – something which looked downright weird in Snape’s body. “Come on in.”

Harry apprehensively followed the man inside and closed the door behind him. “Err, I know you said not to come ‘til tomorrow, but I was wondering if I could jus’ go into... Snape’s rooms.”

Remus gave him a tired but happy smile. “Of course you can, Harry. These rooms are more your home than they ever will be mine. I’m afraid I’m just off to a staff meeting, so I can’t keep you company...”

Harry shook his head, almost caught off guard as his long hair bounced around his face. He had to get used to that sometime! “’S’OK, I’ll let myself out afterwards. I just... uh... think I left a book in there,” he quickly invented, suddenly remembering Snape had actually stated in his letter that he wanted Harry to have something in his quarters. “See you tomorrow.”

Remus finished gathering his notes and let himself out the door, raising his hand in a farewell gesture. “Until tomorrow, then. Maybe you can show me how your Patronus Charm is fairing, then?” the man winked at Harry once before hurrying away.

He’s got a point, Harry realised as he pressed the relevant brick. Is Prongs my Patronus anymore?

The rooms folded around him like an old cloak; peaceable and slightly musty. Harry noticed that Remus had been kipping on the sofa, and briefly wondered if that meant the man woke up with a crick in his neck. Shaking his head, he turned and went into his room, hoping Snape had left a clue for him there.

There was indeed a note and an envelope waiting for him on the bed, but nothing more. Frowning, Harry picked up the envelope and discovered, to his surprise, that it was full of Floo powder. The note said nothing more than ‘Floo to the Manor. The Headmaster will be aware of where you will be should he sense you have left Hogwarts’ wards.’

“What does he think this is? A treasure hunt?” Harry wondered out loud, trying to deny the spark of excitement in his chest. He’d always desperately wanted to join in on Dudley’s when he was little...

Grabbing the envelope, he strode over to the fireplace and tossed it in, exclaiming, “Tharabraye Manor!” as he went.

The flames turned green and Harry took a deep breath before stepping forward... and landing on the rug at the far end with a soft ‘whump’.

“Oof.” Rubbing his back, he carefully raised himself off the floor and looked around.

It was exactly as he remembered it. ‘His’ sofa and Snape’s chair stood innocently before him as if he had never left. The walls were the same mixture of cream and dark wood as before and the floor was covered in a large, dark red rug which clashed slightly with the red sofa.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out again. He was home.

“What now?” he asked the room, not expecting an answer, and was unsurprised when none came. Why had Snape wanted him to come here in the first place? Simply for the comfort of being in a familiar place? It was a nice idea, but unlikely... Completely stumped, he wandered from room to room in the hopes of finding another clue.

Nothing in the library, the kitchen, or the Owlery – though he did end up saying hello to Anila and Aeolus, who looked happy to see him  – and it was only when he realised he was subconsciously avoiding his room did he manage to force his feet to climb back up the stairs and enter the first room he came to...

With a jump of delight, he saw there was a parcel waiting for him on the bed. He hurried inside, his eyes avoiding the blank space where the mirror used to be. Now that his heart was slowly starting to heal, the wall looked... wrong... without it. Shouldn’t he try to remember Shadow as best he could, like he’d done with Ron and Hermione?

But still, an unknown parcel was a far more exciting thing to wonder about than where a full length mirror might have gone to.

One shredded package later, Harry found himself staring in awe at its contents.

Clothes.

Really, really nice clothes.

When the hell did Dad get these? They must have cost a fortune!

He gently stroked the soft cuff of a jumper, a warm happiness bubbling through his chest. No longer would he have to live in the reincarnated versions of Dudley’s old clothes. No longer would he have to use to warming charms in winter to keep from shivering. It was brilliant. And the perfect way for his father to tell him he still cared even from a distance.

He was a little worried about what Ron would think; his friend was sensitive when it was obvious someone could afford what his family could not.

Hurriedly, he scooped the package back together and padded off to go mirror-hunting before he could worry too much more. He couldn’t change how Ron would react, or even know if he would at all.

It took a lot of poking about in places Harry was sure he wasn’t supposed to, but he eventually found what he was looking for covered in dust in the under-stairs cupboard. He chuckled as he considered the irony of where Snape had put it for a moment before dragging it out into the light of the hallway and going to carefully re-hang it in his bedroom. After all, weren’t memories supposed to be treasured?

oooOOOooo

Shadow blinked tears out of his eyes as he looked upon the figure standing a few paces in front of him.

“Hello, Mum.”

Of course he recognised her – how could he not? Even if he hadn’t realised was how short she was. In fact, they both currently stood at exactly the same height.

She held her hands out to him, a delighted smile lighting up her face. “My darling boy. It is a joy to see you at last!”

Shadow twisted his hands together in nervousness, then realised it was a trait he’d picked up from Harry and swiftly hid them behind his back.

“You...” His throat was dry. “You do know that I’m not Harry?”

Lily lowered her hands as her eyes filled with sadness. “Yes. I do not know your name, but I know that you are my son... I also know that I am so, so sorry.”

“I– I’m Shadow... but, what do you mean you’re sorry?”

“Shadow. Shadow; it fits. Shadow, please, allow just another minute to see you before you must look upon me in hatred.”

Shadow started to feel a sick kind of panic curdle in his gut and he clenched his jaw against it. “No. Tell me now. What did you do?”

The deep sadness in Lily’s eyes increased. “You have your father’s temper. In fact, you look so much like him...”

Shadow said nothing, but was almost ready to plead with her.

She seemed to sense this for she lowered her eyes. “I cast the Genetic Curse on my only son, knowing full well the repercussions it would have for him. Knowing exactly what it would do to you.” Her gaze met his once more, and suddenly her green eyes were icy with self-disgust, causing Shadow to shudder slightly.

“But...” He swallowed and tried again in a stronger voice. “But you’re talking about me as if I’m a different person from Harry – as if I’m not just a rogue part of his personality.”

“You are a real person, never doubt that, Shadow.”

“I’m not exactly going to have an identity crisis now, Mum. I got over the weirdness weeks ago.” At least, I think it was weeks...

“No, my son.” Lily smiled and she stepped forward, her hand hovering over where it would have touched his hand, and Shadow’s throat contracted as he realised she was as insubstantial as the mist around them. “Listen: in the Wizarding world, there is more than one way to be born as someone’s twin, as I learned to my cost. And Harry’s. And yours.”

“Twins. That’s what... Never mind. What do you mean?”

“Do you know of any twins who are so close to each other in thoughts each can read the other’s mind?”

Huh, that’s kind of hard to miss if you spend time with the Weasleys! “Yes – they can finish off each other’s sentences.”

Lily nodded in agreement. “Then you would agree that they are one soul in two bodies.”

Shadow cocked his head to one side. “Yes...”

“The opposite is also possible.”

There was a moment of confusion, but then the answer suddenly burst into his head in a blaze of understanding. Oh, how could I have been so stupid?! It was so simplistically obvious, and he never would have guessed.

“Two souls... in one body.”

“Exactly.” Lily inclined her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. “They... the Healers at the hospital were going to kill you because your conflicting magic would have destroyed both you and Harry in the end.

“Your soul was less dominant than Harry’s, so they were going to...” A small sob broke her off. “I don’t know what they were going to do, but the equivalent of setting a Dementor on a helpless baby is nothing less than barbaric, so I did the only thing I could think of; I Obliviated the nurse and checked myself out of St Mungo’s.”

Shadow found his mouth was hanging open slightly and hurriedly shut it. “What did you do then?”

Lily shrugged. “I went home. James was busy and hadn’t been able to attend the birth and I had the place to myself. I’d found the Genetic Curse and the Gnothi Seauton in my search for a way to hide Harry’s true paternity, but I would never have used it... But in the end I found I had to. It was the only spell I had read of that split the soul which didn’t resort to Dark magic, and I thought... if I could somehow get you and Harry into two different places; it would turn out alright in the end.”

“But it didn’t.”

A few tears spilled over from Lily’s brimming eyes and her words were slow as if it cost her dearly to say them, “No, it didn’t. It confined you to this place of mirror and shadows, able to watch through Harry’s eyes, to experience whatever he did, but never choose for yourself, or touch, or influence anything – until the second half of the Curse took effect. I suppose it must have been a form of hell.”

Shadow hunched his shoulders and uncomfortably shifted his gaze away. “Yeah, it was a bit, but I’m here and separate now.” He turned back to her, the beginnings of a slight smile curving his lips. “And I’m myself again for the first time since you cast that Curse.”

Lily laughed shakily, scrubbing the tears from her eyes. “What an idiotic mother you have. I managed to mess this up royally and then leave you and Harry to pick up the pieces, but thank you, thank you for forgiving me, my Shadow, even though I cannot forgive myself.”

Shadow cleared his throat gruffly and kicked at the ground a little. “’Course I forgive you; you’re my Mum. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

Lily sighed as she finally managed to compose herself. “Thank you again, dear one, but I still think that Severus would have done a much better job with both of you. Ooh, my sister needs her arse kicking for what she did! And so does Albus Dumbledore for leaving you with her!”

Shadow smirked. “Somehow I don’t think Snape will leave her in peace now he knows the full story.”

“We can hope,” Lily whispered conspiratorially. “I am relieved Harry is under his care now, but we need to figure out how to get you to them as well.”

“I... had hoped you would have some ideas on that.”

“I do, now listen to me; once you have seen the mirrors in this place, you will see them for the rest of your life. You only need to know how.”

“How?”

“Hush, I was getting to that. Your magic holds the key to this. Use it to reach out and feel your way for you and you will find your way home, as sure as your love for Harry.”

“That’s all? That’s it?!” Shadow felt indignant. All that wandering around moping for nothing!

“Ah, do not be too hard on yourself. Now off you go, my time here is fast waning and I would rather see that you’re already safely on your way.”

Shadow felt a sinking sadness settle in his chest. “This is really goodbye this time, isn’t it? I won’t see you again.”

“Not until you pass into the shadows yourself, my son. And I for one hope that many years will go by before then. Now, remember that I love you, and please let Harry and Sev know that I love them also.”

Shadow swallowed against the lump in his throat, forcing it away. “I will. ‘Bye Mum.” He made himself turn away and start to walk.

“Oh, and love? One more thing.”

Shadow glanced over his shoulder and saw the red-haired woman was already starting to fade. “Yes, Mum?”

“If either you or Harry could learn to play Greensleeves on the piano for Sev, I’d be eternally grateful.”

Just as the last wisps of her form were swallowed up by the grey mist, Shadow startled himself by letting out an amused snort.

Aye, aye, Ma’am, orders received. Now, time to go home. At last.

Time dragged.

As October stretched into November – through the first frost and out the other side – Harry started to feel a gnawing sense of urgency, for surely his father and Sirius would make it back before Christmas? Surely this ache of missing a boy he’d only truly known for two weeks would eventually disappear? It was beginning to seem as if neither of these would happen.

Not even the extra lessons from Dumbledore kept him amused for long, though Harry had a suspicion this was because his progress in them was very slow. It was odd; over the summer he had felt powerful enough do anything he wished, but now he was struggling to complete even ‘simple’ wandless magic. His magical core may have finally stopped reacting to his stronger emotions, but it had also seemed to weaken as it settled.

Dumbledore was sympathetic and patient, but Harry would have liked to have the ear of another adult to discuss the problem. As far as he was concerned, Lupin would have provided more comfort had he not been so distracted by his own problems. As it was, their conversations more or less followed the same pattern of:

“Hello, Harry. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Good, good. Have some chocolate. I’m afraid I have some marking to do, but I hope to see you again soon.”

Harry was beginning to wonder if he should associate chocolate with bad luck. Last year had been difficult enough, but this was getting ridiculous. So, yeah, Harry was really starting to miss his Dad; even for reasons that hadn’t been apparent beforehand.

But the worst of the whole situation of all was Malfoy.

The Slytherin had been watching him very closely since their ‘run in’ in the Headmaster’s office. Harry had tried to warn Dumbledore during their lessons but the old man just wouldn’t listen! He’d keep insisting Harry must be imagining things, or that maybe he should talk to ‘Draco’ about it.

Sometimes Harry thought the Headmaster really did overestimate the supposed goodness in people; he sometimes couldn’t seem to grasp the concept that people could really be as cruel as they were.

His father would have believed him straight away, he was sure. After all, now that Harry had finally settled back into the pattern of school, it was obvious that back in the beginning the man had been doing his best...

A shuffle in the corridor behind him brought his attention screeching back into the corridor outside the Potions Master’s with an almost audible thump.

He had been hanging around in the hopes that Remus would return early from the staff meeting; maybe then he would finally be able to ask the man’s opinion on the bell Hermione had given him for his birthday, and how useful it might be in a ‘real’ confrontation. He had been idly turning it over in his hands, the silver chimes comforting him in a quiet way.

Now he froze, his nerves jangling as he carefully peered into the darkness of the dungeons behind him. Carefully, he slipped the spirit bell back into his pocket and listened.

Another soft movement and Harry’s wand was in his hand before he really thought about it. He cursed himself for his earlier lapse in concentration; this was Slytherin territory after all.

A further shuffle and suddenly a thin, blonde figure appeared underneath a nearby torch as if he had always been there. Harry twitched in surprise and clenched his wand tighter.

“Malfoy,” he spat.

“Potter,” came the mocking reply.

“I’ve told you before: it’s Snape,” Harry got out through gritted teeth.

The blonde shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Whatever. As if you would ever be good enough for him.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Make me.” The other boy’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Or don’t you have the Gryffindor courage to challenge me to a duel.”

Harry took a deep breath in and out through his teeth. This was not the time to get angry. This was the time to turn around and walk away. But, oh, how he wanted to hex that stupid, smug look off the ferret’s face!

No. He wants you to get angry. He’s trying to goad you into getting into trouble. Think. What would Snape do? What would Snape’s son do? “Is that the best you can do?” Harry taunted, slowly, slowly stepping away from the other boy. “I thought Slytherins were supposed to pride themselves on their subtlety. Are you sure you weren’t mis-Sorted? Did Daddy bribe the Hat to put you in his House, so you wouldn’t bring shame upon the Malfoy name?” Almost there. Once you get to the corner, fire a trip jinx and run, Harry!

The blonde’s eyes had widened. “I would watch your mouth if I were you, Potter.”

Harry took another deep breath and forced himself to go back on the attack. “If you were me,” he scoffed. “I bet this is what this is all about, isn’t it? You want Snape as your Dad instead of that lawless, sneering coward, don’t–” Harry froze as he felt two wands digging into his back and cursed as he realised that he had forgotten to check for accomplices.

The smirk on Malfoy’s face was back. “Very good, Potter. You almost had me fooled there. But come, I’ve said I want a duel, so I’m going to get one.”

Large hands descended on Harry’s shoulders and shoved him forward, almost making him lose his balance. Malfoy snorted. “And speaking of fathers, I don’t see yours rushing to your rescue. You can’t be so terribly important to him after all.”

At least he thinks Dad’s still in the castle... “He’ll catch up with you soon and then you’ll be sorry!”

Malfoy threw his hands up in mock horror. “Ooh, I’m scared. How thick are you, Potter? Do you honestly think I’d give you the opportunity to tell him?”

A chill crept down Harry’s spine. “What are you going to do?”

An evil smile spread across Malfoy’s face and he yelled, “Confringo!” before Harry even thought to aim.

Ducking to the floor and rolling away from the curse, Harry only just managed to avoid the pieces of stone shattering from the wall behind him. The next few minutes were filled with wild dodging and hastily thrown curses; Harry knew he was going to lose this, but it was still terribly satisfying to see Malfoy beginning to lose his smug attitude.

And then it all went horribly wrong.

Harry straightened out of yet another duck and fired a curse at the place where Malfoy was standing. Or rather, at the place where Malfoy should have been standing. The other boy was suddenly right next to him and pressing the cold metal of his family’s ring into Harry’s skin, a ferocious sneer stretched across his face.

Harry lurched as a hook seemed to catch him behind his navel and tug. The Hogwarts’ corridor disappeared in a whirl of colour and for a few seconds the only thing which was real was Malfoy pressing that dratted ring into his skin deep enough to gouge.

oooOOOooo

A boy laughed in delight as he was lifted onto his father’s shoulders, an old man on the bench smiled at nothing in particular, and a group of girls dived for the next clothes shop, sunlight glinting off their hair and flashing earrings. Complaining pigeons scattered and re-gathered for the hundredth time, chased by children ignoring their mothers’ cries. The man selling doughnuts looked up and smiled at their antics, momentarily oblivious to his waiting customers. The air was filled with shouts and the rush of traffic, so it wasn’t surprising no one took any notice of the shabby tramp making his way down the street with a big, black dog at his side.

Severus took a last glance around the streets packed with Muggles before whispering the strongest unlocking charm he knew on the door, and forcing it open with his shoulder. After many weeks of hiding in under bridges and people’s back gardens, his – and his companion’s – patience had worn thin. Skulking outside the Ministry doors day after day had taught them nothing, and the defences around that structure had proved too much for even their combined skills, so they had resorted to a different tactic. A last resort, as it were.

This was why they were currently forcing entry to St Mungo’s hospital for magical maladies and injuries, hoping that a Floo connection to the Ministry might still be active.

Inside, the air was musty and stale. Black changed back into a human and glanced around in puzzlement the moment the door was shut behind them.

“It’s completely deserted!”

“State the obvious, why don’t you, Black?” Severus sneered quietly as he started to prowl around the edges of the room. After a moment’s hesitation, Black followed him as Severus muttered to himself, “Something’s not right here. Homenum Revelio. There’s not a soul on this floor or the next... but the Floos are warded – quite strongly as well – and the anti-Apparition wards are firmly in place. In fact, aside from Hogwarts’, these are the strongest I’ve ever encountered.”

The portraits on the walls watched their progress silently, and though Severus would never admit it, it was giving him chills up his spine.

“What do you suppose–?” Black started to ask, but he never finished.

Suddenly all the doors in the room burst open and a furiously roaring mob of Healers and their patients swarmed through, wands at the ready.

Severus only had time to screech, “Quick, the door!” before the mass all screamed out the same spell at once.

Severus numbly watched the lines of green fire streak towards him and Black from all corners, only having time to think: So this is how I die, and more importantly, I’m sorry, Harry.

oooOOOooo

The world was back so suddenly that it sent Harry sprawling.

“I did it!”

Harry blearily blinked up at Malfoy, who had somehow managed to keep his feet. The other boy’s face was lit with malevolent glee.

“Wha...?” he started to ask before taking in his surroundings.

They definitely weren’t at Hogwarts anymore. The corridor’s walls, the floor and the ceiling were covered with shiny, black tiles, stretching seemingly to infinity. Rather like an evil genius’s designer bathroom, Harry thought wryly.

Glancing at the nearest wall, Harry caught sight of his reflection peering balefully at him out from the blackness. He shuddered and quickly looked away.

Picking himself stiffly off the floor, he turned and glared at Malfoy, reaching for his wand to put an end to that arrogant smirk... only to realise he must have dropped it back at Hogwarts. The first curdling of dread settled in his stomach and his muscles locked in place as he regarded the other boy. He should run, but where? If he had indeed been brought here for a purpose, he could easily run straight into a trap... No, it was best to wait a little and get his bearings.

“Where have you taken me?” he asked slowly and – he hoped – threateningly.

Malfoy smirked. “All that taunting about my father, Potter. And you never even suspected he might have set me a task just before you put him in Azkaban!” He fiddled with the large, signet ring on his finger idly. “It’s been terribly difficult to get you away from your fan club, you know; almost impossible in fact, but I managed it, regardless of that traitorous father of yours!” The sneer was back, but Malfoy still looked unsettlingly triumphant.

“A task?” Harry glanced around again and forced a matching sneer. “As far as I can see, you’ve successfully transported me into someone else’s macabre bathroom; well done.” Whoa... that’s definitely the Snape sarcasm coming through.

Up ahead a torch flared to life, just as the one above their heads went out. Both boys gulped and nervously took a step closer towards the only light, just as that went out as well. Another lit even further away. Harry and Malfoy exchanged suspicious and – though they’d never admit it – scared glances. Apparently this hadn’t been a part of the great Malfoy plan.

And it was obvious they had been expected.

Drawing up as much courage as he could muster, Harry cautiously crept down the path being outlined for them. He almost didn’t notice when Malfoy started to follow close behind. It was time to find out precisely what was waiting for him.

oooOOOooo

“Illusions,” Severus whispered softly, his hand streaking through the nearest human without even the slightest hint of resistance. “Of course.” Once the green light had completely faded from the room, Severus had been left feeling rather silly, even though this was an obviously effective defence mechanism of keeping the Death Eaters out of the hospital’s archives and equipment.

“You could have told me they were completely harmless beforehand!” Black snarled up from where he had dived for cover on the floor.

“Not completely.” Severus’ lips thinned into a white line. “That blast of ward magic was too strong to have left us alive if we had been the ones it had sought to kill.” He frowned thoughtfully at a nearby darkened patch on the floor. It was human-sized. “In fact, I think I can say that if I was in possession of an active Dark Mark, I would currently be no more than that smudge on the carpet.” He snorted. “The Dark Lord always did underestimate the power of Light magic.”

Black had picked himself up by now and was currently staring at the blackened spot over Severus’ shoulder. “Urgh. Nasty.”

Two sets of footsteps clopped between the cold, shiny walls as their owners made their way through the maze-like corridors. The dank clawed at Harry’s throat, and he could have sworn he glimpsed something scuttling just beyond the edge of the torchlight.

"Bet you never saw happening while you were plotting safely back in Hogwarts," he muttered, only half to himself.

"Shut up," came the furtive answer. Harry wasn’t at all surprised Malfoy sounded about as scared as Harry felt. This was the boy who had screamed and run the second he saw Voldemort feasting on the unicorn... though that had been back in their first year and Harry had hoped he might have grown out of being a ‘boasting coward’ by now. He really needed someone vaguely reliable around now.

He glanced at the other boy’s impeccable hair out of the corner of his eye. Then again, ‘Malfoy’ did seem to be a synonym for ‘double-crosser’, so it was probably just as well he was useless. Maybe he could accidently set fire to that perfectly coifed head... it was annoying shiny. And it would be something to distract him from the vague terror careening around his gut.

"I said shut up!" Malfoy almost looked like he was going to stop and face Harry, but the torch above their heads had already guttered and gone out, leaving them hurrying for the next one. "Don’t you think I’ve already tried? Believe me, it was the first thing I did when we arrived... here... and there is no way I want to be stuck in someone’s cellar with you!"

Harry felt an angry heat creeping onto his face and tried to shrug it off, shooting the other boy a look. "You still haven’t told me why you don’t know where we are, or what was going to happen once you got me here."

Harry wasn’t sure but he thought Malfoy had rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, like my Father tells me everything; sometimes I just have to do as he says and belt up, or else. I don’t know why you’re getting so high and mighty; I bet there are hundreds of things ‘your Dad’ hasn’t told you."

Harry was a second too late covering his frown of confusion over that. Sure, adults always had secrets; that was none of Harry’s business, so why was Malfoy looking so superior about it? As if on cue, the other boy’s jaw dropped and his eyes began to shine with a manic kind of glee. Harry barely had time to think Uh oh before Malfoy was speaking again.

"You mean he hasn’t actually told you? After all that boasting about ‘My Dad’, I could have sworn he would have–! Oh, this is priceless!"

The grin Harry received was so much like a shark’s that he felt goosebumps starting to crawl up his spine. Whatever Malfoy had to say was not going to be good...

"Your precious Dad used to be a Death Eater; he’s just as despised by the Ministry as mine, if not more so," Malfoy purred as if the words were made of gold and honey.

Harry felt this made his intelligent response of "Huh?" even more unimpressive.

Some of the light went out of Malfoy’s eyes. "‘Death Eaters’? As in– Gah! Don’t they teach you Muggle-raised lot anything these days?"

"Apparently not," Harry muttered drily, trying to think of a way to derail the conversion before he heard something he was sure he would not like.

It didn’t work. Malfoy leant in again, his malicious composure regained. "The Death Eaters were You-Know-Who’s most loyal followers back in the day. Special people he Marked as his own and relied upon to do his bidding. Honestly, Snape, did you really think the darkest wizard of our age became as feared as he did on his own?"

Through the ringing of his ears, Harry heard Malfoy snicker as he leaned away. Actually... that’s exactly what I thought. How naive of him. Sure, Harry had known that Voldemort had had supporters the first time around, but he hadn’t actually known. Hadn’t known of the possibility that his own father might have been– "You’re... lying," he gritted out, enjoying the temporary flash of fear in the other boy’s eyes. His magic felt more accessible now than it had in months, all it would take was a little more pressure and–

"It’s Merlin’s own truth, Snape. Believe it or not if you will, but why not ask you Daddy-dear to roll up his left sleeve the next time you see him and see what he says to that?"

Harry went silent, a cold sickness resonating through him. Of course, Malfoy was just inventing a malicious lie to make Harry feel unsettled, to make Malfoy feel better about having trapped them in this mess.

But.

A brighter light up ahead gave the opportunity he’d been desperate for to stop thinking about it. His voice creaked as he spoke, like old leather that had been left in the sun too long, "It looks like we’ve arrived."

An enormous snake lay coiled beside the entryway of the larger chamber ahead, its tongue flickering as if already imagining what they tasted like, and Harry began to realise that he was in a lot more trouble than he’d originally imagined.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped past it, and out into the light of the chamber beyond. Something told him that – like the Basilisk – this particular snake would take a fierce joy in killing him. Malfoy made a noise like a strangled canary beside him and Harry pretended he couldn’t feel the other boy’s fingers digging into the sleeve of his robes. He had much larger things to worry about. Besides, other people’s fear had always made him feel braver.

He still had to breathe deeply for a little while longer before he could force words through his constricted vocals chords. "Do you think that’s what we’re here for?" he asked, raising a surprisingly steady hand to point at a marble plinth.

On top of it was a shroud, obscuring what was beneath it in folds of velvet fabric. For some reason, this made Harry want to run more than anything else he had encountered so far.

"What is it?" Malfoy had already stepped forward, right hand outstretched to pull the fabric away.

"I… I don’t think we should touch it." Sickening dread was tightening Harry’s stomach in a way that it had only done a couple of times before. And suddenly Harry knew what lay beneath the covering. "No! Malfoy, don’t touch it!"

But it was too late. The cloth had already fallen away to reveal a large, crystal orb as transparent as the ones Trelawney used in Divination. For an eternal second nothing happened.

Malfoy turned back to Harry and sneered. "See? It’s just an old crystal ball. No need to get your knickers in a twist, Potter."

And behind his back, a red glow began to spread through the centre of the globe, growing until it was filling it entirely. Malfoy turned back and let out a squeak, jumping back in an attempt to hide behind Harry once more, and for an impossible moment, Harry was certain he could see red eyes staring out at him from the centre.

Then the red light vanished as if it had never been.

"What… What…?" Malfoy croaked, but Harry didn’t move. That couldn’t be all, something else always happened…

"Ah, dear Harry, we meet in person again."

Harry turned and felt himself go numb with fear, for there, blocking the way they had come was…

"Voldemort." Harry was quite impressed with the way his voice didn’t shake. Maybe he was so far out the other side of fear, it didn’t matter anymore. Or maybe because the boy at his elbow had begun to shake. Or maybe he still had the slightest hope they may be able to get out of this.

For whatever reason, Harry found the strength not to step back from the face of his greatest foe.

"Harry, Harry. I’m so glad you remember me." The… creature’s – for surely with its snake-like features and slitted, red eyes, it could be nothing else – face stretched into a parody of a smile that made him want to retch. A thin red cord ran from the thing’s belly to the centre of the orb; it twisted and squirmed in a way that made Harry want to step away very quickly, but he held his ground.

"I can’t say I feel the same way about you," he managed to reply stiffly. Malfoy moaned and attempted to make himself even smaller – as if that would protect him from the side effects of Harry’s bravado – but Voldemort only laughed.

"Yes, I can see you haven’t changed a bit since you were eleven – at least inwardly." Voldemort tilted his head to one side and regarded him in a way that made Harry’s skin crawl. "I see I’m going to have to have a word with one of my servants about self-restraint when it comes to pretty Mudbloods."

For the first time, hot rage boiled up within Harry and he welcomed it like an old friend. "Don’t you dare talk about my Mum like that! You aren’t worthy to kiss the ground she walks on."

Voldemort chuckled; an earthy, bubbling hiss. "I’m afraid you will be seeing her sooner than I, Harry." He cocked his head at the shaking form of Malfoy for the first time, even as he began to raise one withered, white hand. "Pity you haven’t got more backbone, child, or I might have been tempted to keep you. As it is…" The hand opened, like a white, petrified spider.

Harry didn’t even stop to think. He turned and shoved the orb off its pedestal – the thing burned his hands, turning the palms bright red, even as a secondary shock seared across his scar.

Then hands were grabbing his arm and tugging. A voice hissed in his ear, "Come on! Come on!" and Harry only turned once to spare the sphere one last glance. It was rolling across the floor, a sizable crack down one side, while beside it Voldemort flickered in and out of existence, hissing in pain. The large snake guarding the entrance rose up, fangs exposed, and that decided it for Harry.

He gave in to the hands tugging upon him and ran.

Behind him he heard the damaged wizard letting out a series of deep, guttural sounds that were not quite words, followed by a high-pitched shriek of "Find him! Kill him! Kill him!" A crackle of fire sounded behind him, quickly turning into a roaring inferno.

Malfoy let out a fearful whimper and tugged him down one of the pitch-black corridors that branched off the main one. Both boys sprinted, now headless of the dark, clutching at each other’s robes and scrabbling at the walls for other turnings off.

"What was… What?" Harry managed to gasp out.

"Fiendfyre," Malfoy hissed, his fear temporarily blotted out by pure survival instinct. "They’re trapped spirits of demons chained to the element of fire. They will not stop chasing us until we’ve been destroyed. Or until someone’s destroyed them."

"Why– are we running then?"

"Are you… completely insane, Potter?! Do you want to stand there while some evil spirit devours you?"

"I just meant – can’t we use Aguamenti?"

"Don’t be ridiculous; that evaporates before it touches them. Only a wizard highly skilled in Necromancy, Elemental control and wandless magic can stop one of them, let alone a whole pack like He’s summoned."

They slowed as the roaring of fire became muffled; the passage they were in was blissfully pitch-black.

Harry heaved air into his lungs while he still had the chance. "So we just keep running?"

A shifting of fabric implied that Malfoy had just nodded. "Until we can’t–"

"Until we find a way out," Harry interrupted firmly. "There has to be one around here somewhere."

Malfoy gave a derisive snort. "That’s just it. I think I’ve worked out where we are; below the Ministry of Magic there are countless vaults that were sealed away centuries ago. There’s no lore on it, but I’m assuming it was because some leader became greedy in his old age and decided that if he couldn’t have the wealth down here, then no one could. If I’m right about this… we’re trapped."

"Well He found a way in didn’t he?" Harry pointless jerked his thumb at the corridor behind them. "And if he found a way in, then his followers did too, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to follow his orders. And if that’s the case, then there has to be a way out, yeah?"

Malfoy’s mouth curved slightly in a smile. "Yeah."

Harry smiled back and took a moment to appreciate how his eyes seemed to be adjusting to the dark… and froze. "Malfoy… Does it seem a little lighter in here than it was before?"

Malfoy’s eyes widened – yep, definitely could see him clearer, and was the background roaring sound getting just that little bit louder?

They both sucked in a breath. "Run – they’ve found our trail!" Later, Harry could never quite recall which one of them had said it.

The next moments seemed to stretch to eternity. Once again, they were running wildly, completely blind, knowing that the things chasing them were getting ever closer. Turns and doubling-back and yet more side-turns blurred into one another until Harry was well and truly lost. Not that it mattered anymore either. The only thing that mattered was how the faint flickering light was now bright enough to see the contorted fear on his companion’s face in explicit detail.

And then, gloriously, an idea began to form.

"This way!" Harry grabbed his companion’s arm and suddenly they were standing in a storage room with no other way out.

Predictably, Malfoy tried to pull away. "Are you crazy? What are you–"

"Shh! See this?" Harry reached into a deep pocket and pulled out Hermione’s bell. "You said they were demons; well, what are demons, but trapped spirits? Oh, don’t look at me like that! I do listen sometimes in class."

Malfoy sneered and Harry forced himself not to roll his eyes at the default setting. "Maybe so, Potter, but that pathetic thing is a training bell. It won’t do anything to them! We have to go. Now."

"Dumbledore’s been teaching me wandless magic," Harry rushed out as his gaze was drawn by the ever increasing light. "So, that’s two of what you’ve mentioned; it should be enough to hold them off just for another head start. I’ve always worked best under pressure, and I know it’s hard, but you’re just going to have to trust me…"

Malfoy cut him off with a moan, pale grey eyes fixed on the doorway behind Harry, who quickly spun around because if they’d run out of time…

They hadn’t.

However, the corridor outside was now bright enough to be counted as naturally lit, so Harry only had one chance at this.

He closed his eyes tight and concentrated hard on the bell in front of him, reaching down deep to that fiery core of magic, trying to remember what it had been like that summer. How effortless it had been. "Please. Please."

And then… a flicker of something – of otherness – and the weirdest sensation of not being alone in his own head. "S-shadow?" No answer came, but the surge of power bolstered his magic and shot straight through into the bell, making it heavier in his shaking hands. Would it work against the Fiendfyre? Well, he would certainly find out one way or another in a minute.

He opened his eyes and for a second, he almost swore he could see the flicker of someone else’s eyes in his reflection on the stone wall. Then they were gone and Harry was painfully brought back to the moment when a spout of flame licked through the archway in front.

He braced himself and stood up straight. Please work, please work, please work…

An ugly face made up of flame and menacing teeth peered around the doorway, then another, and another until Harry stopped counting them, so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. Into the room they crept; now their prey was in sight, they no longer had to hurry. Flames whip-corded around their bodies and low growls came from the roar of the fire itself.

Harry waited and slowly counted to five, uncaring of Malfoy’s bony fingers clenching his left arm. A strange calmness spread through him. Then, with a prayer that he truly remembered the correct way to ring the bell, he flicked his wrist through the series of movements as fluidly as possible, and let the full-throated cry of the bell echo off the walls.

The effect was instantaneous; the monsters howled and writhed as their forms seemed to go almost transparent. The terrible heat from their fire lessened and Harry suddenly found the entrance clear. He rang the bell a second time – this one even louder than the first – pulled on Malfoy’s arm and sprinted.

"Come on, come on!"

Their renewed adrenaline and panic carried them a long way into the pitch black silence, their ears straining to listen for the tell-tale rush of fire over the slapping of their footsteps.

And then… "I have an idea!" Malfoy’s arm tried to drag its way out of his grip.

"What?" Harry gasped out, refusing to slow down or let go.

"These tunnels… They might be abandoned now… But they were once part of… Ministry workings… Which means… Floo network!"

Malfoy was definitely tiring – so was Harry for that matter – so they really needed a solution soon.

"I thought you said – sealed off!"

"Yes! But not Floo… In that time, only used by… richest… aristocrats… Wasn’t sealed. Don’t you pay attention in History?"

"What? No!" But… that was quite an idea. "Light your wand! We need light to find a fireplace."

"L-lumos."

Light suddenly bathed their red, sweaty faces and they froze, almost expecting to be ambushed by fire. Nothing happened.

Yet, anyway.

Without a word, they jogged on, peering into doorways and taking turns down other corridors at random. Harry could hear Malfoy whispering under his breath, "Please, be here. Please, you have to be here." Harry added his own silent pleas to this mantra; his head was starting to swim and there was no way he could run very much further, demon fire or not.

A flicker of his reflection in the stone-work caught his eye just as he was about to run past another corridor, but what he saw down there made him skid to a halt. "There! There! We’re saved!"

His reflection… winked. There was no other way to describe it, unless his exhausted mind was playing tricks on him. Whatever the reason, Harry leaned his hand against the cold marble and whispered a soft, "Thank you, Shadow." He would have time to think about the implications later, when he was safely back at Hogwarts…

But Malfoy was regarding the fireplace with a sickly expression.

"What? What is it now?"

"F-floo powder," the other boy croaked. "We. We need Floo powder." He slumped and looked back the way they’d come. "We’re going to die down here. We’re really going to die and it’s all my fault. And, and my stupid Father’s!"

Soft, almost hysterical giggles bubbled up from his throat. He’d been called lucky before, but this… this was almost ridiculous. After all, how could he have possibly known that his thievery would one day save his life?

They weren’t out of the woods yet, but… "C’mere. Look." He swung the pouch in front of Malfoy’s astounded face. "Potter’s prepared. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Let’s get out of here, so we can go back to hating each other, yeah?"

The other boy nodded shakily and spat an Incendio at the fireplace. Both of them flinched a little at the crackling flames.

Malfoy sneered uncertainly and then conjured a length of rope, knotting it securely around his waist. "That’s a really small amount. We’re going to have a rough trip even without having to hang on."

Harry nodded, tied his own end off and took a deep breath. With a little toss, the bag ended up in the flames, immediately igniting and flaring green. Hurriedly stepping into the tickling heat, Harry grabbed Malfoy’s shoulder in a steel-like grip and calmly spoke the words, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He almost cried in relief when the flames whisked them away.

oooOOOooo

Shadow sat down slowly and shakily, allowing the ‘window’ in front of him to fade from his mind’s eye. Using magic to locate the portals through to the ‘real’ world was exhausting work that required intense concentration. Actually getting one to appear required an almost stupid amount of exertion.

He closed his eyes and sighed. But it had been worth it. So worth it. He’d found the right universe and he’d found Harry; luckily just in time to save his life apparently. But what now? He could only manage the faintest of connections and only through really thick surfaces. There was no way he’d be able to break through several feet of marble, and judging by the scenes playing out on the other side, he certainly didn’t want to try there. He’d have to start searching again as soon as he’d rested and regained his strength.

He allowed his mind to wander back to when he’d first located the portal; the excitement, the difficulties getting it to allow him to see through it, and then…

Events were pretty much a blur of fear after that. And panic; don’t forget the panic. But still… Shadow opened his eyes and stared up. Harry was safe – for now – and Shadow had yet another lead in his seemingly endless mission to get back home.

So what if Voldemort now knew of Shadow’s existence? So what if his fury would be terrible once he found that Harry had escaped? Shadow shuddered and slowly pulled himself to his feet. This, more than anything was a reason to make his way back – and quickly.

Harry knew there was something wrong almost as soon as the fire pulled them away from the dungeons. After the initial punch Floo travel, the sickening spinning began to slow.

No, no, please! We’re nowhere near Hogwarts; we can’t have made it to Scotland already.

The meagre amount of Floo powder propelling them ignored his pleas and, with a jolt similar to a car bouncing over a pothole, the Floo system dropped them into a room. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through a window as he spat and coughed and gasped out the ash trying to crawl into his lungs.

Eventually, the ash lost the battle, and Harry lay exhausted, his cheek pressed into the shiny black floor. For a horrible moment he thought they had simply been spat out into another part of the tunnel system, but the warm sun soaking into his hair and the expensive wooden desk plonked in the middle of the room reassured him otherwise.

He huffed, coughed again, and grudgingly propped himself up so he might check on what had happened to Malfoy. The other boy lay – out cold – a couple of feet away. Harry carefully pressed two fingers to the other boy’s throat, immediately relieved when he found a pulse.

Energy exhausted for the moment, Harry laid his cheek back on the surprisingly comfortable floor and closed his eyes, trying to convince his heart to finally slow its sickening drumroll. They may not be safe just yet but Voldemort didn’t know where they were and there was a wonderful lack of Fiendfyre, which was a large improvement in Harry’s opinion.

He had no idea how long he lay there, or even if he had drifted off, but he became aware of approaching footsteps. Thanking anyone who was listening that he no longer had to wear glasses, for they would have surely been smashed, Harry blearily opened his eyes and glanced up at the doorway.

The footsteps stopped.

For a moment, Harry was convinced he must be seeing things due to a bump on the head, but slowly, his vision became clearer and still the apparition remained. Groaning slightly, Harry propped himself up again. “Dad?”

“Harry.” The man couldn’t seem to speak above a whisper as his wide eyes took in the scene.

Somehow, his father’s voice broke the spell and Harry struggled to his knees just as the other swept into the room and pulled him into a hug. Or, more accurately, attempted to cut off all oxygen from his lungs. Harry’s chest was yelling at him to breathe, but he found he didn’t care overly much due to the overwhelming sensation that he was finally safe.

A ball of spent fear and shock seized his throat and tore out a choked sob, but the impulse to cry was gone as soon as it had come.

The sound shook Snape out of his stupor. “What are you doing here?”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of anger in the question. It sounded almost rhetorical, but he pulled away to answer anyway.

“Malfoy…” He glanced over at the person in question. “He…” He stopped again, unsure how to even start. A swell of childish indignation overtook him as he still searched for the words. “It’s his fault,” he insisted, looking up at his father, who shot him a dirty look that even Harry could read as ‘stop being so immature’.

“Well, it was! And he… we…” Again he broke off, unable to find the right words for everything he’d seen, everything he’d felt. “Dad, I’m so glad you’re here.”

The man only responded with a one-armed squeeze, but that was somehow enough. “Come along, I’m sure you can regale me with your tales of ridiculous heroism safely back at Hogwarts. We certainly can’t stay sitting on,” he paused to read the sign on the open door, “Healer Bose’s office floor all day. Mobilicorpus!”

Malfoy floated up like some creepy puppet and hung in the air. Harry was vividly reminded of Snape’s own experience with this particular charm mere months ago.

“So… You’re not mad at me, then?” Harry asked hopefully, accepting the hand his father offered to help him up.

Snape sighed heavily, and turned to head off down the corridor, keeping a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Quite frankly, I’m relieved to see that you are safe. Despite the fact that you should be in that state in Hogwarts anyway! Merlin, you are going to give me grey hair, child. Besides, I’m sure both of us remember how badly the last time that I punished you in anger went.”

Harry shivered a little, partly from the memory and partly from the adrenaline still making his heart beat too fast for the sedate walk down the corridor. His shaky legs were particularly glad of the hand on his shoulder. “Dad, I don’t feel so good.”

Snape paused and frowned down at him. With a shock, Harry realised his father had cut his hair short, though for what reason he couldn’t fathom. He looked somewhat like what Harry had always imagined an army sergeant might look like; intimidating and stern. The frown didn’t help. “How many fingers am I holding up, Harry?”

“Two, but… Look, I’m OK, but I think I need to sit down soon.” Malfoy’s unconscious head lolled as if agreeing with him. “We ended up running a long way – in the dark – and I’m kinda, well, worn out.”

The frown didn’t go away but Snape nodded in reluctant acceptance and made sure they carried on their way at an even slower pace.

“So, what’re you doing here? Seeing as you asked me?” Harry asked.

Snape shot him a sidelong glance. “Spying, exploring, and hiding from miscreants made even more impertinent by the run-up to Christmas.”

Harry smiled weakly at the joke and wisely stayed silent.

Snape shrugged and carried on. “You know the Headmaster sent me. You know why. So far the mission has not been overly successful, but recently we discovered that the wizarding hospital, St Mungo’s,” he waved vaguely at the walls, “this place, has been abandoned by its staff. Black and I are currently searching it for booby-traps, other than the one that is conveniently keeping the Death Eaters out and fearful. We think it may be a good future stronghold for the Order. It certainly has enough safeguards and wards already in place.”

“Where is Sirius?”

Snape’s nose wrinkled. “He was irritating me, so I sent him to explore the upper floors while I searched the lower – fortunately,” he said, casting Harry another glance.

Harry hid a grin. “You do realise that sounds like you sent him to his room like a naughty child, don’t you? Has he really been that bad?”

His father glared. “Watch it, Potter, I certainly have the authority to send you to your room should you cheek me anymore. Besides, this mission is to be aborted. I refuse to put children – and especially you – in the path of any danger which may arise.” He stopped in the middle of what looked like a large waiting room. “I shall send for Black, and then we’re leaving.” He paused. “Do please try not to encourage the mutt; I’m still in the middle of training him out of bad behaviours.”

Harry chuckled and sat down on a nearby comfy seat as he watched Snape send off a silvery Patronus, which bounded through a nearby wall and out of sight.

“That was a doe. Why a doe? You know mine’s a stag, right? Or, well, it was last time I checked.”

Snape sighed and sat on the seat next to Harry’s. “Your mother’s was a doe,” he admitted reluctantly. “In rare cases, when people… care… for each other, their Patronus charms grow to match. Your mother was always more comfortable in her own skin than I, so mine was the one which changed.” He shrugged as if it were nothing. “Yours may well still be a stag because of that connection. It doesn’t necessarily have to do with any connection with Potter.”

Harry was stunned into silence for a little while, even then, all he could come up with was, “I’m sorry.”

Snape sighed again and looked up from the rug he’d been in a staring contest with. “Harry, she might have been my… love, but she was also your mother. There is no need to apologise. You lost her as well.”

“Yeah.” Harry swallowed down the stubborn lump in his throat. “Now more than ever, I wish she was still around. Which is stupid because I’ve got you now right? I shouldn’t be greedy.”

A wan smile played around Snape’s mouth. “I admit to sharing the sentiment. And it is not greedy, Harry, merely… human.”

Harry snorted. “No one would ever believe me if I told them you just said what you said. Not even Ron.”

The smile became real. “Then you had better not.”

“Dad…” The words were you ever a Death Eater? hovered on his tongue, but he couldn’t quite get them out.

Snape’s eyes shifted to the corridor, out of which sounded the pounding of four furry feet. “Ask me later, we have company.”

A somewhat matted mongrel bounded out of the corridor and bowled Harry off the chair. It seemed determined to wash out Harry’s ears while he squealed (he’d never admit to that) in horror.

Snape seized it by the scruff and hauled it off Harry. “Stop mauling my child, Black!”

Sirius morphed back, laughing. “Now, now, Snape. Cheer up; we don’t want you getting frown lines. Or rather, any more frown lines.”

Snape glared and shot a look at Harry which he chose to interpret as ‘you deal with him’ instead of ‘I want to beat him to death with a shovel and hide the body’ before turning and stalking off towards the nearest fireplace.

“So, Harry,” Sirius slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders, “what brings you to the wilds of London? I could tell you a story or two about this place that would make your hair raise, not that it needs it…”

His godfather’s heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and the sight of his father waiting impatiently up ahead (Malfoy was still floating unconsciously next to him) finally banished the remains of the cold fear from his stomach, and he sighed in relief with the knowledge that he would be back in Hogwarts castle soon.

oooOOOooo

It was still many hours before he could get to bed; first he’d had to relay the whole tale to the best of his ability – accompanied by shocked gasps and horrified expressions from the Headmaster, Sirius, Remus and his father. Harry was certain he was grounded until old age from the look on Snape’s face. Then he’d had to go to the Hospital Wing for a full check over, followed by a trip to his father’s quarters and some extra, disgusting potions which the man insisted he needed, and Harry insisted he didn’t.

Needless to say, Snape won that argument.

Then he had to head back to the Tower to reassure a wide-awake Ron and Hermione as well as a sleepy Neville and Ginny, while the twins snickered in the background at his description of what a scaredy-cat Malfoy was. Even then he still had to calm his pets down. Apparently Salem had taken up residence upon Harry’s pillow and tried to bite anyone who came too close. Hedwig hadn’t been much better.

And after all that, Harry ended up still buzzing with adrenaline and unable to sleep, even long after everyone else’s breathing had evened out.

Sighing unhappily, he gathered up his pets, Invisibility Cloak and slippers and padded down to the dungeons, hoping to beg a free sleeping potion off his father. He was rather surprised to find a packing Remus in the middle of the living room and no sign of Snape.

“Hello, Harry.” The man’s smile was worn but genuine. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“How’d you guess?” Harry huffed, flopping down on a nearby chair and letting Salem thread through his fingers. Maybe he ought to have left a note to let someone know where he’d gone…

“After the day you’ve had? I’m hardly surprised. And besides,” the expression turned sympathetic, “it’s ok to not want to see what you think you will when you close your eyes.”

“Yeah.” The was silence aside from the ticking of the mantelpiece clock for several minutes. “Remus?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you do for the full moon? With the Polyjuice I mean.”

“That’s a question somewhat out of the blue, if you don’t mind me saying, Harry.”

He shrugged. “Well, I kind of am looking for something to distract me, so…” he trailed off until Hedwig pecked him affectionately on the ear. “Besides, I always wondered, but we haven’t had much chance to chat.”

Remus grimaced. “I am sorry for that. As to your question, I merely got Albus to fill in for me. It may not seem like it sometimes, but he can act along with the best of them.”

“Hmm.” Harry nodded vaguely, staring into the flames, wondering if he could just make out a fearsome snout between the logs. Remus’ hand on his shoulder shook him out of his stupor.

“Go to bed, Harry. You look ready to pass out. I’ll let Severus know you’re here when he returns from his meeting with the Headmaster. I’m sure if you haven’t fallen asleep by then, he can get something ready for you.”

“Hmm. May not be,” a yawn split his sentence in half, “necessary.”

Remus chuckled. “Go to bed. Sleep well.”

And surprisingly, Harry almost did.

“Harry.”

The voice beat against his mind, quiet and insistent. Even deeply asleep, Harry flinched.

“Harry.”

The unconscious boy buried his face deeper into his pillow in an effort to drown out the sound.

“Harry!”

Harry sat bolt upright, breathing as if he had just finished a hundred metre sprint. He knew that voice as well as his own.

Possibly because it almost was.

Heart pounding, Harry threw off the covers. His feet found his slippers and his arms found the sleeves of his dressing gown without conscious thought. All that mattered was that voice in the dark.

The mirror at the end of his bed was dark and silent, even after he touched trembling fingers to it and whispered a name into the dark.

Confused, Harry carefully looking about the darkened room. He knew – he knew – that voice hadn’t been his imagination again. He’d heard it coming from somewhere.

“Shadow?” he called again, louder.

And then, just when he was about to give up and go back to bed, he heard it.

“Harry.”

It was faint, far away, but it immediately made his slowing heart speed up once more.

Carefully, he opened the door to his room and crept out; he hoped he wouldn’t disturb anyone who would ask questions about what he was up to at three in the morning.

“Okay, Shadow,” he breathed, “keep talking.” Concentrating as hard as he could, he pulled a golden thread from his magical core and cupped it in his hand. “Show me where to find him,” he ordered.

The little ball of light gave a lurch – Harry’s heart echoed its movement – but after a moment of being certain he was going to accidently explode the dungeons, the light wobbled upwards and floated in front of his nose. He took a step towards it, and watched, awed, as it slowly started moving towards the door.

Hmm, not the most subtle way to travel. Harry caught himself quietly praying that Filch would not be about that night as the light led him into the corridor outside Snape’s office. If anyone catches me, Dad is going to kill me… But, I have to know. I HAVE to. There’s no way, even if it’s the slimmest chance, that I wouldn’t take it.

The light had paused with him, floating silently above his head. Swallowing roughly, Harry glanced around, and then nodded to it. “Okay, keep going.” He followed again on silently slippered feet, shivering a little as the chill of the castle began to seep into his bones.

Everything was silent. Apparently this late at night – or early in the morning – even Filch and Mrs Norris went to bed. Not even the ghosts were drifting about. It should have reassured Harry, but all it did was make the eeriness of his trip so much worse. The corridors he was creeping through almost reminded him of the endless maze he had run through the day before. Every low, guttering torch made him jump, making him think the Fiendfyre had somehow followed him back to Hogwarts…

Apparently he’d thought he was alone a little too soon. Just as he and his guide approached the stairs leading up to the Entrance Hall, footsteps echoed up ahead. Harry froze and looked around him. He had just passed the midpoint of a long, straight corridor and no convenient hiding places were anywhere in sight.

The footsteps grew louder. In desperation, he flattened himself against the wall and hissed at the light, “Hide us!”

He screwed his eyes shut, fully expecting to be discovered at any moment, and cursing himself for being in too much of a hurry for his Invisibility Cloak, not that that would do much good with the light.

Faint warmth settled around him, contrasting sharply with the cold stone behind him. Surprised, Harry opened his eyes and stared in wonder at the shimmering magic blanketing his whole body. It slowly darkened from a light gold into a colour more attuned to the rest of the corridor. Experimentally, he lifted his hand up in front of his eyes. As he moved, the darkness slid off it like water. Harry wrapped the offending arm around his middle and waited until the camouflage had spread over it again. Apparently he couldn’t move with it, but if he just stayed very still, whoever was coming might just miss him…

Someone’s feet descended the steps leading the Entrance Hall…

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the footsteps’ owner came into his line of sight. It was just a First Year completing a dare. The small boy looked as jumpy as Harry felt and – Harry resisted the urge to punch the air as the kid’s eyes swept right over the spot where he was standing – he obviously couldn’t see Harry at all.

Another moment passed, and the boy spooked at something, turning and sprinting back up the stairs. Harry allowed himself to breathe again.

A little kick of excitement started in his gut; his magic had always worked best in close proximity to Shadow, maybe this meant…

After a whispered command to the warmth around him, he willed it back into his guide and hurried on his way. As if sensing his urgency, the little light sped up.

Up into the Entrance Hall, careful, careful, and out through the big double doors, don’t let the hinges squeak. And then Harry’s slippers were crunching on freshly fallen snow as he strode out into the grounds. Within seconds he was soaked and freezing. But it didn’t matter; what on earth would matter more than finding his lost family once again? If he was quick, surely a little cold wouldn’t matter?

He chanced a glance back up at the darkened castle. It was already becoming lost in the gloom, but Harry wondered if anyone taking a peek through the shutters would see his wisp-o-the-wisp light and figure out what it was. Or would they simply think the late hour and the faint sheen of the moonlight had tricked them?

The camber of the ground changed under his feet and he almost slipped and fell. Now there was ice under the covering of snow.

Steadying himself, Harry looked about and found himself standing near the edge of the frozen Lake. Here, the light seemed to pause, before it slowly sank down to knee level and moved out over the treacherous surface.

For the first time, Harry began to wonder if maybe coming out in the middle of a winter night – completely on his own with nothing but his dressing gown and slippers to protect him – was a good idea. Again, the image of Fiendfyre flickered in the back of his mind, but Harry ruthlessly squashed it. He had to be brave; he was a Gryffindor and Shadow needed him. Taking a deep breath, he began to test the strength of the ice and, finding it sound, took a cautious step out.

It held.

Soon, one step was followed by another, and then another. Already it seemed like the shore was a very long way away. He tried not to think about what was swimming underneath his feet.

By now his legs were shaking badly; a combination of fear, adrenaline and placing his feet lightly were taking their toll. He badly wanted to sit down for just five minutes, ten minutes, maybe just to lie down all together and go to sleep. He was so cold he was almost warm.

The light had slowed and stopped, hovering just two metres off to his left, where the ice had a funny transparent sheen.

I have to be brave.

Painfully slowly, he lowered himself to his belly and dragged himself the last couple of metres by his fingertips. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the ice now seemed frighteningly thin.

The moment he reached the right spot, the light blinked off, leaving him rigid in the pitch black, eyes fixed on the dark surface beneath. Harry could hear nothing above the roaring of blood in his ears.

Then, the moon came out from behind a cloud and Harry could see. The boy beneath him was not a reflection.

For Harry was not the one with his mouth stretching into the syllables of his own name again and again. Harry was not the one pressing his hands against the ice in greeting.

That was Shadow.

“Shadow!”

Harry didn’t even register he was shouting until his voice echoed back to him off the mountains.

Already the other boy was beginning to fade away; Harry’s own reflection flickering in to replace it. Almost as if he was drowning.

“No, no, no.”

Without thinking, Harry scrambled to his hands and knees, wildly looking about himself in an attempt to find a way to reach his twin.

There was a low, creaking groan, and there was barely time for Harry to register Shadow’s look of horror before the world was swallowed by cold and darkness.

oooOOOooo

Severus was never one of those people who could close their eyes and sleep the night through. Most of the time, a good night’s sleep was a rare gift, so when he found himself pulled from a deep sleep in the early hours of the morning, it was a normal enough occurrence that it did not concern him.

He lay there for a moment, thinking how good it was to be back in his own bed in Hogwarts after months of sleeping rough in the middle of London. He let out a quiet sigh as his back protested; apparently his body – regardless of the comfy mattress – had decided it was time to get up and walk about a bit. Wearily, he pulled on his robes and stretched. No point in trying to get back to sleep now; he’d just toss and turn for the remainder of the night. He’d have to train himself out of only sleeping for a couple of hours another time.

Once dressed, he slipped out into the main room. A few hours of walking the cold corridors should convince his head to wake up enough to be ready to teach. Maybe he’d even have time to start on the backlog of Potions needed for the Infirmary; Lupin could brew, certainly, but he couldn’t brew quickly.

The sight of Harry’s door stopped him in his tracks. Should he check on his son? Make sure he was not suffering nightmares from the day he had had? Or should he avoid opening the door and not risk disturbing the boy?

Feeling like a fool, he stood outside the door for a couple of minutes, trying to listen in…

Internally cursing himself, he stepped away and forced himself to begin his rounds. Doubtless the boy was fast asleep; if Harry was having a nightmare, Severus would have heard him by now. The only concession he allowed himself was to turn at the last moment and place a light monitoring charm on the door. At least that way, he’d know if the boy needed him.

The dungeons were colder than usual, so Severus forwent lingering in the subterranean levels. Checking his Slytherins were settled was a must, but after that it was with relief when he ascended the staircases leading to the higher levels of the Castle.

The corridors he walked along were silent and deserted, though he did hear some muttered gossip about insolent little boys wandering the school after dark from the portraits he passed. It seemed like the first years were being dared to go down and knock on his door in the dead of night again. That vampire rumour was beginning to get a little old.

Deciding to be careful that the little brats had indeed run back off to bed again, he circled the same floor again, double-checking darkened nooks and crannies. He was just about to give it up – not even Homenum Revelio uncovered anything – and head back to prepare for lessons when a flicker of light caught his eye.

Disbelieving, he walked over to the window and peered through the glass at what looked very much like a small figure crossing over the newly-fallen snow towards the Lake. Some faint light flickered above their head, making their progress glaring evident in the dead of night.

Severus cursed. He’d better go and retrieve the little idiot before they froze to death; the figure was too small to be a member of staff and too large to be mistaken for Flitwick. It had to be a student. Unfortunately.

Severus hurried down the nearest staircase, robe flowing darkly behind him. This child was going to get detention whether they were sleepwalking or not!

When he finally made it outside – boots squeaking over the snow – he saw something that made his heart jump into his mouth. The child was actually walking on the frozen Lake. Only the cold of late December and January made the ice thick enough to support the skaters who ventured out upon it. November was far too soon. If he didn’t hurry, the child would surely fall in, and if that was the case, the poor creature would be dead before he could even reach it.

He was sprinting before he could even register it. No point shouting now; startling the child would only cause them to jump and any sudden movements on that ice…

Severus forced himself to run even faster, boots now slipping and skidding; almost pitching him onto the ground. The icy air burned his lungs and the only things running through his head now were prayers that he was going to be in time. Before Harry – before the truth about Harry – he would have done his best to save the student, been guilt-ridden if he failed, but now, newly equipped with the perspective of a parent… Well, he could barely imagine the agony the parents of this child would go through if he failed.

Finally he found himself brought up short at the shore of the Lake, legs shaking and turning numb. Pausing for half a second, he gasped out the Patronus charm and breathed in relief as the doe galloped towards the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey.

He knelt down and murmured a spell, pointing his wand at the ground. There was no point accidently killing himself and the cretin he was trying to rescue. For an agonising moment, nothing happened.

Then, the ground he stood upon shifted and thickened. Slowly thicker ice spread over the shoreline and onto the Lake. A safe path two feet wide stretched out from Severus’ feet, creeping further and further out over the Lake’s surface.

Shaking from the amount the spell was draining him, Severus carefully strode forward. The ice-bridge continued to grow at a slow walking pace and Severus walked as close to its crest as he dared. Up ahead he saw the child lie down flat on their stomach – smart brat. Maybe they’d finally realised the danger.

The drain of the spell and his careful steps made Severus’ vision grey at the edges a little. Believing the child to be somewhat safer for the moment, he briefly stopped the spell and stood still, breathing through his nose. He turned and checked the ice-bridge behind him – thankfully, it was holding strong.

He turned back towards his task and his heart froze.

The light above the child’s head had winked out; indeed he could now not see a thing where the child had formerly been. This sudden darkness, this cession of magic, all pointed towards one terrible thing.

Forcing his magic to its limits, Severus rushed towards the last place he’d seen light, trusting his feet to land on the thick ice-bridge and not the treacherous sheen of the frozen Lake.

And then, the moon came out from behind a cloud, revealing a boy with long hair lying still not ten metres ahead. Severus gasped with relief and slowed, thinking them to be almost safe, when…

“Shadow!”

Afterwards, Severus wondered if that moment qualified for one of the worst of his life: the realisation that the faceless boy was Harry.

He was running again before he even thought about it; but even his accelerated speed and magic was not enough to stop the inevitable cracking of the ice – the moment he’d been waiting for and dreading.

Severus reached the hole in the ice just as Harry’s head slipped beneath the surface. Ironically, the surface he now crashed to his knees on was perfectly solid and safe due to his spell. If he’d been just a second faster…

Without thinking, he plunged his left arm into the bone-chilling water, chest pressed flat against the ice, hand grasping, grasping.

Please.

Please.

And then… His hand encountered something soft, and he gripped it tightly and pulled with a strength he didn’t know he possessed. Harry’s head surfaced, the boy gasping and flailing in Severus’ grasp, but alive.

Severus hauled himself to knees, using the extra leverage to drag Harry clear of the frozen water and into his arms.

“Harry, Harry.” His hand was patting the child’s face seemingly of its own accord. Merlin, the boy was still in his nightclothes. “Harry!”

Harry’s eyelids fluttered and he coughed up water before abruptly going still.

Severus felt like he was suffering his tenth heart attack of the night. Shaking fingers felt Harry’s thready pulse and rapidly cooling skin, and despite his already exhausted state, he found the strength to hoist the boy to his chest and to start jogging back towards the Castle.

In that moment, the knowledge was stark in his mind: he’d do anything, achieve anything, for the boy’s sake, if he would just be OK.

A small group of people were waiting on the shore. In the faint light of Dumbledore’s wand, he could make out Madam Pomfrey, Minerva and Hagrid shifting anxiously, waiting for his return. Briefly he wondered what on Earth his Patronus had garbled to bring them all out here.

Thankfully, when he reached them they didn’t try to hinder him with questions. Minerva cast a spell which caused Harry to lighten in his leaden arms. Albus motioned Hagrid to take Severus’ arm and help him along before tipping some of his own magic into Severus’ depleted magical core, giving him a brief boost of energy. However, the only person Severus had eyes for was Poppy as she worked a series of complicated spells over Harry’s prone form.

He was beyond grateful that nobody tried to take the boy from him. Maybe that meant he was going to be alright?

The rest of the journey to the Hospital Wing was a blur. If questioned, Severus would not have been able to relate how he’d arrived there.

The next clear moment he was aware of was sitting on a hospital bed, holding a now-dry Harry while Madam Pomfrey carefully fed the unconscious boy one potion after another. Albus hand was on his shoulder, but there was no sign Minerva or Hagrid.

“There we go.” Madam Pomfrey dusted her hands together as she straightened up, frowning down at her patient. “Nothing more I can do for either of you. You’ll both stay overnight for observation of course. Hypothermia can be tricky, but I can’t imagine for a moment that you or Harry won’t be fine in the morning.”

Severus blinked stupidly at her, getting the feeling that he should have something to say in response to that, but the only thing echoing in his head was that Harry would be fine.

Poppy’s expression softened. “Go to sleep, Severus.”

And then, Albus’ hands were pushing him down; arranging Harry comfortably next to him. Severus briefly thought about protesting, of insisting he go to prepare for morning classes, but the thought of letting Harry go just yet made his arms tighten. He was so very tired…

The last thing he heard as he drifted off was Albus’ gentle, “Sleep well, my boys.”

The return to consciousness was slow, almost happening in stages. Even when Harry could open his eyes, he couldn’t quite make sense of what he was seeing, nor could he hear what was going on around him. His entire skin was tingling as if he’d just had an allergic reaction, or like he’d jumped into a hot bath after being really cold.

With that thought, memories began to seep back in. The Lake had been freezing, literally, but even knowing that theoretically hadn’t prepared him for the way his bones would ache upon entering the water. Why had he been out on the Lake? The answer eluded him for the moment and he slowly slipped back into unconsciousness.

oooOOOooo

Severus’s awakening, for his part, was decidedly more sudden. He snapped straight from a deep sleep into consciousness, an unknown panic tightening his gut. His left arm tightened instinctively around the warm bundle lying beside him as his eyes darted around the Infirmary. Frowning, he forced his mind to focus despite what he recognised as the residual effects of a sleeping draught affecting it. What was he so afraid of? Why was he in the Hospital Wing?

He glanced down his left side and huffed out a shocked breath. Harry. Of course. The memories of the previous night caught up with him and sent a convulsive shiver down his spine. His son. His son. He had almost lost him without even realising again. If he hadn’t woken, restless, in the middle of the night, he might well have been woken by a weeping Minerva to tell him…

The shivers came back, accompanied by a feeling of nausea. He tried, desperately, to get angry at the stupid, stupid brat, but the fear kept getting in the way. He’d almost lost him; another few seconds and he would have lost him. This same thought kept rattling around in his head, making it near impossible to breathe, impossible to think of anything else.

Instead, he turned his head and buried his nose in Harry’s hair. He’d never let the brat out of his sight again. He’d put toddler monitoring spells on him. He’d kill anyone who even so much as looked at him funny. Anything, anything to stop him from losing this boy the way he’d lost Lily. He knew, with a chill certainty, that that would be one death he would not survive.

oooOOOooo

Harry swallowed to ease his rough throat when he finally surfaced properly, and buried his face more securely into the warm wall to his right. His ears ached, his nose ached and his chest ached, but there was a regular, soothing beat right next to his ear, almost making him want to drop off again. However, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He squinted his eyes open and they abruptly snapped wide once he realised he was leaning against a person. Nothing he remembered could place him in this position. The last thing he remembered properly was Shadow…

Harry jerked and tried to scramble upright. Shadow – Shadow was alive. Harry was certain of it. Shadow was alive and Harry had almost found him. If only he could find a way to reach his brother. There was a way now, he was certain. Being that close meant Shadow had to be coming back.

A strong arm pinned him down to the bed and even more firmly against the person next to him. The arm had a stronger grip than anything his friends could manage, but who else…?

Oh.

Harry glanced up to meet his father’s eyes. They looked torn between being murderously angry and… tears? Harry gulped and raised his head to meet that gaze properly. Whatever happened next would be exactly what he deserved.

oooOOOooo

Madam Pomfrey bustled over the moment Harry’s eyes blinked open properly. She must have had a monitoring charm in place to check on the progress of her patients. Harry didn’t bother glancing over at her, simply meeting Severus’ gaze and gnawing his bottom lip, rightfully anxious.

The boy certainly had every reason to be nervous, yet Severus simply couldn’t seem to find the words to express what he wanted.

“Vitals are good for both of you. And your core body temperature is now within normal ranges, but your skin temperature is still a little lower than I would have liked, young man. I’ve cast another warming spell, so you should start to shiver in a little while, but that will be a good sign. Just stay where you are, Severus, your son will be fine.” Pomfrey’s speech seemed to address both of them.

“Poppy,” he says quietly, finally finding his voice. “Would you leave us for a moment.” It wasn’t a question.

She took a step back, the consummate professional. “I’ll be in my office. Call the moment you need something. You’ve both been very lucky to escape severe hypothermia.” She set down four potions Severus easily recognised on the bedside table and left.

Silence followed in her wake and Harry began to shiver. Severus hitched his son closer and adjusted the blanket. Words had fled again. Sighing, he made eye contact with an increasingly upset Harry.

It was quiet for a little while longer. Then, “I’m sorry.” Harry’s voice croaked like he’d swallowed half the Lake. Though, all in all, that was not an implausible scenario.

“Why?” Ah, there was his voice again. If only he could have managed to make it louder than Harry’s croak. A feeling of desperation had seized him by the throat. He needed to know. He needed to understand, so he could stop this from ever happening again. His other emotions would follow later, but all he could dredge up at the moment was an impotent panic mixed with numbness.

Harry’s eyes dropped, but then slowly met Severus’ again. He too seemed to have lost his voice.

Severus breathed a deeply, which seemed to knock his words free at last, low, broken things that they were. “Harry, I need to know why you’ve willingly put yourself in danger. I need you to tell me Exactly. What. Happened. So I can help. I need you not to lie to me, my b–” Great, now he was accidently slipping into Albus’ speech patterns. Lord knows, he’d heard those words come out of the older wizard’s mouth enough times. “Explain this to me, Harry. Please. Because I just can’t comprehend why you’d do this,” The silent to me was left unsaid. Severus hoped Harry hadn’t heard it, “without some extraordinary happening to explain it.”

And that was a new feeling; praying that the boy would come out with one of his mad-cap explanations instead of something which could be explained away by neat phrases such as depression or suicide.

Harry choked on what could almost be a sob. “I didn’t mean to. I promise. I really, really didn’t mean to.”

“Were you forced to do this? Did someone else force you?” His voice was still a low, unfamiliar thing.

“No!” Harry’s voice was vehement, both a relief and a curse to Severus. On one hand, at least someone hadn’t tried to kill his son twice in one day, on the other… well, who knew? “I– I… It was my own fault. I was so stupid but I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t think.”

“You didn’t think?!” Ah, there was the explosive anger and the furious tone he’d come to recognise as his own. He knew what to do with anger. He could just let go of his temper now and everything would be easy. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t use it on Harry, not even when the boy had been so thoughtless and scared him so badly. The anger tasted corrosive on his tongue. He dropped his head back onto the pillow and glared at the ceiling, pulling Harry even closer with his left arm. But that wasn’t enough, so his right went around as well, then his nose went to his son’s hair and as soon as he caught that now-familiar smell, he shocked himself rigid as a sob clawed its way out of his throat.

Harry broke down a moment later, obviously scared by his parent’s loss of control. Severus just held him as tight as he dared and tried to weep silently until the violent emotion had loosened its grip a little. Not even after losing Lily had he felt so helpless.

Finally having himself a little more under control, he set to comforting Harry as best he could, who continued to cry like a little boy who’d been finally offered comfort after scared once too often.

Severus was grateful for years of practising voice control when he finally could speak again. “It’s over. It’s over now, Harry. Just tell me what happened. I’m listening. I promise I’m listening.” If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow. Severus had never properly understood that proverb until now. He thought back to the beginning of term, and his reaction to Harry’s recklessness, and winced.

Eventually Harry calmed as Severus muttered nonsense and just rested his head on his father’s chest and breathed for a little while. Severus found he didn’t mind the wait. He simply held on and prayed that for once in his life Harry would feel safe enough to share whatever burden he was carrying.

“You’re safe,” he murmured because he felt it needed saying and, feeling daring, pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. It was a manly kiss, of course. Why should anyone think otherwise?

This seemed to be the cue Harry had been waiting for. “Last night I woke up because someone was calling my name. I couldn’t work it out, but then I just knew it was– him. My brother. I know it was him. And then… then I followed his voice until I found him.” He fell silent, almost defying Severus to disagree.

“You found him? What do you mean?” he prompted instead, spent anxiety spiralling up again. If Harry was hallucinating, or worse, if Harry’s soul was still fractured, then there might be something so wrong with his son that he alone would be unable to fix it. Severus voiced none of this. Another possibility might be that someone was using magic against the boy to trick him into mixing reality and fantasy. There was more than one spell which echoed the effects of Mirror of Erised.

Now seemingly oblivious to Severus’ anxiety, Harry propped himself up a bit and stared very seriously into Severus’ eyes. “I saw him. I spoke to him… almost. I could hear him and he could hear me. And… I’ve been getting this feeling all year that he’s nearby and it’s just getting stronger. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not, I swear. I really believe he’s out there.”

The conviction shook Severus. If Harry was telling the truth and if he, against all odds, was right, then… Severus refused to contemplate further. He didn’t know what that would mean exactly; for him or for Harry. There was so much in this situation that he didn’t know about. He needed Albus, or someone, to tell him what to do, what was best for Harry.

But, as was the norm in his life, there was only himself he could rely on in this moment and he prayed that this time he would make the right choices.

“Harry, look me in the eye and listen to me. I need you to promise me that you will never go searching for Shadow on your own again. Shh!” he exclaimed as the boy tried to interrupt. “You listen to me first and then I’ll listen to you. We have no way of knowing why he’s appearing to you or why this feeling’s getting stronger…”

“It’s because we’re connected! We’re twins!” Harry burst out, seemingly unable to contain himself.

“Or,” Severus continued as he decided to let the interruption go, “it’s someone taking advantage of your obvious weak spot and using it to put you in danger. You almost died.” He refused to accept that his voice cracked on that word. “If I hadn’t got there in time, or if a hundred other things hadn’t put luck on our side, you would have died last night. I know it seemed logical at the time, but thinking back, Harry, can you honestly tell me that the decision you made was in your best interests?”

Harry looked down. Severus got the impression that if the boy had been standing, he might have scuffed his shoes together. “No, of course not.”

“Well, then. You’re not emotionally clear when it comes to Shadow. You know that. I know that. Someone could easily trick you without much effort because of this; they might well have done already.”

Harry looked indignant. “They didn’t. He helped me yesterday for a start and besides, who besides you, Dumbledore and my friends know about Shadow?”

Severus breathed heavily through his nose and lay back again, his neck muscles feeling fatigued beyond support. “Magic can be used in devious ways. There are spells which can allow someone to look into another’s mind without their knowledge. Or maybe someone overheard you telling your friends about it. You need to be aware of the possibilities so you can make a rational decision about it.”

Harry heaved a sigh of his own; it was oddly shaky even through the shivering. “I don’t want to be rational. I just want him back.”

“I know.” Severus’ hand soothed its way up and down Harry’s back. “I know. Maybe you will and maybe you won’t, but you need to accept now that all you may ever get of him again are these flashes, Harry. Anything else would be a miracle. I would like nothing more to reassure you but giving you false hope would do no good for either of us in the long run.”

There was a long silence, only punctuated by their breathing, then, “I won’t.”

Severus turned his head and regarded the top of Harry’s as the boy buried it into his side. “Hmm?”

“I won’t go looking for him on my own, I mean. I promise. And I’m sorry. But,” Harry lifted his head, “I still believe it’s him and he’s coming back, so I’ll just have to convince you too. I’ll come to you whenever I see or hear him, though, I promise. Maybe you’ll start believing me then.”

Severus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good boy. Who knows, maybe you’ll convince me.”

“Say his name.”

“What?” Severus found himself in the midst drifting off again. Damned Hospital Wing. Poppy must have bespelled him somehow.

“Say Shadow’s name. He’s your son too.”

Severus sighed and blinked his eyes open again. Well, why not? “Shadow.” The word sounded strange on his tongue. “Harry and Shadow. How would I cope with two suicidal brats to bring up?” Ah, there was his sarcasm. He’d been wondering where that had gone to. “But then, you’re my suicidal brat, so I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad. Now, drink your potions and go to sleep.” Merlin, he really was drugged. What had that witch done to him?

He stole one last look at the sleepy boy after he’d drunk his potions and closed his eyes. He’d need talk to Albus about this, but not now… later.

oooOOOooo

Harry closed his eyes and relaxed, feeling safe. He’d probably be extremely embarrassed by all this cuddling later, but it had been terrifying when he’d fallen through the ice and he found he didn’t quite want to give up the comfort of having his father so close just yet.

At least, this time, they’d seemed to have weathered the storm quite well. Oh, Harry knew there’d still be punishment and disappointment to come, but right now, all that mattered was the knowledge that he had a real family; to have someone who cared if he lived or died. And, yes, it would be better if Shadow and his Mum were with them, but this was still pretty near to everything that Harry had always wanted.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Shadow held his breath and pressed his skinny frame closer to the ground. He hadn’t really paid attention to the Mage’s earlier warnings about his surroundings, assuming that as he had spent all of his conscious life here, that he already knew all its quirks and ticks.

Turns out he was wrong.

Maybe deep-down he’d refused to entirely trust the strange creature who looked and sounded so much like his – Harry’s – father, and that refusal to trust resulted in his refusal to believe its warnings.

There were other people here, and not the kind he would want to approach. Mages, all of them, who were not even attempting to hide their true nature, making Shadow’s entire skin prickle with pain. Shadow had thought Kai had been an aberration, and maybe he had, but not in the way Shadow had expected. He hadn’t expected Kai to be the only kind one.

He’d been hiding for hours already and these people – he was being generous with the word – were making no signs of being ready to move on.

The creature in their midst whined and whimpered again as another of the group did something to it. These people, these monsters, were playing with their food before they ate it. Their prey’s blood was already streaking the ground, but the group showed no mercy in their torture. Maybe they would eventually tire and consume the poor creature’s soul, but at the moment they showed no sign of ending their game.

Shadow’s stomach roiled at the metallic smell, even as he shuddered at the thought of Aki being reduced to such a state rather than one of his compatriots. These monsters had made it seem so easy.

Shadow swiped a dragging cuff across his eyes. He just wanted to go home. Just wanted to speak to Harry, to say… He had no idea, but he was Harry would ground him somehow. First Voldemort, now these Mages, and the fact he was still trapped, still far from home. He was scared, homesick and lonely. When would it be enough? Would he ever find his way back?

His lips moved, mouthing the words ‘Help me, please’ over and over again.

Something grew hot in his pocket, searing into his thigh. Shadow bit down sharply on his lower lip and surreptitiously reached down to fish out… Kai’s note?

A small symbol he hadn’t noticed before was glowing a fierce orange-gold and Shadow only had a brief moment to blink in confusion before the parchment dissolved out of Shadow’s hand to bury itself in the ground.

For a moment everything was still. Then the ground began to shake.

The Mages screamed, and ran for it – thankfully away from where Shadow was huddled – and Shadow himself just curled up with his hands over his head and shook with the ground.

A horrible roaring filled his ears, and the earth beneath him seemed to be trying to buck him off. Already way past the end of his tether, Shadow sobbed, tears trying to squeeze their way out of tightly shut eyes. Please, that was enough, he’d had enough, he’d had enough, he’dhadenoughhe’dhadenough…

And the dreadful tremors just… stopped.

Shadow remained where he was for the longest time, struggling for the slightest bit of composure. Eventually, he found the courage to raise his head.

The landscape had changed dramatically. Giant white boulders were strewn around, where before there’d been none. And in front of him, half-sitting, half-leaning against one, was a woman dressed in white with a circlet of moonstones. She and Shadow regarded each other silently, almost daring the other to break the sudden quiet.

Eventually the woman sighed and looked away, beckoning to something behind Shadow to come closer. To Shadow’s amazement, the same cat the Mages had been tormenting slunk over and pressed itself to her side.

Shadow quickly glanced over to his left where the cat had been… and grimaced at the bloody mess still spread over the floor. He turned back, eyes wide, and finally noticed that the blue Serratius was actually mostly transparent.

The woman’s sigh snapped his attention back to her face. “It’s a terrible shame,” she addressed the air above his head, her voice whisping around them like the mist. “But I have to let them in sometimes. They’re not wanted anywhere else. Understandably. They’re lost children trying to make everything just stop. But still, they cause such a mess that I have to let them know they’re not welcome for long.” She flicked her hand at the cat’s remains and Shadow turned in time to see them dissolve into the ground exactly like Kai’s note had. The woman looked down and patted the large cat’s head with a sad smile. The cat looked back. “Time to go now. You know where.”

And the creature padded off and away back along the way Shadow had just come from. Back to the shores of death.

For the first time since her arrival, the woman turned her gaze back to look at Shadow directly. “But you’re a different kind of lost child, aren’t you?”

She seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Shadow croaked out, “Yes, but…”

She seemed to lose interest in him again and stared away into the far-distance. When she next spoke, her voice was slow and considering. “Terra-forming. Always so messy. I wish he would have given me some more warning. Still, he’s better behaved than most, though I always need to send him away like the others. Can’t let them think I have a favourite. Now, that wouldn’t be fair.”

Feeling like he wasn’t far from bursting into tears again, Shadow spoke up. “Please, who are you? Can you help me?”

She lowered her head to him again. “I am Senin,” she whispered and was silent.

“I don’t understand. Please, please – will you tell me if you can get me out of this place?”

She tilted her head as if she didn’t understand. “I am Senin,” she repeated.

“Please, I just want to go home!” Shadow only realised he’d shouted when the echo bounced back off the rocks at him. Homehomehomehome.

She moved for the first time then, crouching down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Shadow was too shaken to duck. “Poor lost one. You’ve lost your eyes, haven’t you? Don’t worry, they’ll come back. They’re coming back already, but…” She smiled; a quirk of the lips. “I suppose it won’t hurt anyone if I help them along.” She brushed a thumb over where she’d kissed and Shadow felt a sharp spike of pain drive through his skull.

“Wha…?”

“Your eyes will lead you home.” She fixed him with an earnest gaze. “And your heart will tell you when you have arrived. But, you are always welcome. Remember that, Shadow.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw what must be the most beautiful thing in the world. A mirror. Leading to the other world. They were back! He could see!

“Who– who are you?” he whispered again, not expecting an answer.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and seemed to truly focus on him for the first time. “Can’t you guess?” Her eyes sparked with intelligence and endless, endless knowledge. “I’ve been here with you the whole time.”

And then she just… faded. Not so much into the landscape, as becoming the landscape. Shadow froze, his brain stuck upon an idea too big to comprehend. After all, it’s not every day a universe gives you her blessing.

He stumbled to his feet and looked about him. He could see! The mirrors no longer replicated furniture and objects on Shadow’s side of the glass, but he could clearly see through to the other side… see that there was another side.

Wiping his eyes of tears he hadn’t known he was shedding, he set off. He didn’t recognise the landscapes shown to him through the glass, but there was a deep, gut feeling that he knew where Harry would be and that every footstep was bringing him closer.

He glanced around himself and noticed the sheen of moonstone glinting off the nearest rock as the last of the mist pulled back and away. Shadow gulped around the lump in his throat and whispered, “Thank you, Senin.”

After all, it never hurt to be polite.

oooOOOooo

That night, Harry had a strange dream.

He dreamt that a woman with white hair and timeless eyes was standing over him. If Harry squinted, he could almost see a faint nimbus standing out around her.

The woman leaned over him and whispered softly in his ear, “The time has come to remember your brother. The time has come to call him back.”

Then the world shattered into a hundred different colours and Harry was left staring at the ceiling, the memory of the dream firmly imprinted within his mind, and his father’s words ringing in his ears. Could he trust this? Or was someone trying to fool him?

oooOOOooo

The next weeks days were… less than pleasant. Harry had had the delight of trying to explain everything that had happened to him over the past couple of days to Ron and Hermione and had had his ears screeched off as a result. And that was just Ron’s reaction.

In hindsight, walking onto the Lake past midnight in his pyjamas in November did seem a tad stupid.

Harry was thoroughly sick of saying that out loud. To his father. To his friends. To Professor McGonagall, to Professor Dumbledore, to Hagrid and even to passing ghosts. Would his life ever be his own in this Castle? Or was he simply the most exciting thing since sliced bread? Harry had got that quote off a laughing Dean Thomas. It was a relief that there were people out there who didn’t want to lecture him. Not many, but a few.

His father had decided that Harry was to spend all foreseeable nights down in his chambers. And that, no this was not negotiable. In fact, Harry felt he’d got off very lightly with this, as most of his father’s anger seemed to have been directed at Professor Dumbledore for not keeping Harry safe, at Voldemort for obvious reasons, and at the Third Year Potions class for giving the Potions classroom an unwanted revamp respectively. Harry was slowly picking up on the fact that if he could distract the feared Potions Master with something which made him angrier, then he could escape the worst of his wrath.

This insight might have had something to do with Professor Dumbledore pulling him aside and informing him of this fact while twinkling.

Not to say that he didn’t get a severe talking to from Snape. Apparently Harry’s safety was non-negotiable. And his Dad was nearing the point where he was ready to put a monitoring charm on him normally used for toddlers. As if Harry didn’t feel stupid enough.

“But you went for a stroll on the Lake, mate. Even I agree with him that’s pretty stupid, and think about it. That’s me agreeing with Snape.”

Harry sighed heavily through his nose and leaned back further into the Common Room chair, from which he’d been moaning about every adult’s sudden desire to watch him like a hawk for the past half-hour. “Yeah, I know, Ron. But don’t you think they should cut me some slack? Dumbledore’s taken to appearing out of corners whenever I might be the slightest bit late for class, and he’s the one who’s had the most laid back reaction to all of this.”

Ron watched as his bishop swiped Harry’s knight off the board and settled into his new position smugly. “S’not just about that though, is it? You put a crack in You-Know-Who with nothing more than your bare hands – which is pretty impressive despite the fact that he is now a glow-y ball of light – and which means he’ll want to kill you more than ever now. They’re just worried. Hell, I’m worried and I’m not even the one he’s after. Aren’t you just the slightest bit concerned?”

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again, struck by the sudden truth. “Not… not really. I just know Dad’ll do everything to keep Vol- him away from me. Does that seem stupid?”

Ron frowned, causing his freckles to bunch up above his nose. “Not really. I’ve seen Snape full-on spitting mad. Don’t reckon You-Know-Who will stand a chance against that. Think we ought to place bets?”

Harry snorted. “Please – like you’d want me to place a bet on your Dad winning a duel against Voldemort.” Harry pointed at a pawn and it obediently marched forward a pace to block Ron’s queen.

Predictably, Ron was distracted from their previous conversation. “Wicked! You are teaching me to do that!”

Harry grinned. “Wandless magic? Why not? Though we may have find somewhere in the castle we can’t be disturbed. Don’t think our teachers would like it much us practising something that could blow up a whole wing. D’you think Hermione would like to come too?”

Ron nodded enthusiastically even as he ordered his own castle to trap Harry’s king. “Checkmate. Oh yeah, you know she’s been green with envy ever since you told us you could do wandless stuff. In fact, I bet the twins and Ginny would come too. Maybe even Neville.”

“OK.” It seemed reasonable enough to Harry. “Let’s ask everyone this weekend. See what they think. Actually, it’s probably a really good idea to start now – Voldemort’s got too much of a head-start on us.”

Ron winced, but laughed through it. “Aw, don’t be like that! I just wanted to learn to blow stuff up with my mind.”

Harry laughed too, a weight lifting from his shoulders. “You don’t need me for that, Ron. Just ask Seamus!”

The sound of a clock striking the hour broke through their merriment. “I have to go.” Harry pulled himself out of the comfy armchair. “Otherwise Dad’ll have my head. Again. You have no idea how long he ranted at me after we got out of the Hospital Wing.”

Ron grinned wickedly. “Aw, but you had the memories of your cuddles to make it aaall better!”

Harry punched him in the arm and headed for the portrait hole. “I am killing Colin Creevey as soon as I can figure out how he took those pictures. Tell Hermione I said goodnight. I’m sure she’ll start speaking to me again soon.”

Ron snorted. “If only so she can tell you again how ‘utterly reckless you were, Harry!’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

Harry squirmed out of the portrait hole, still laughing to himself. The corridors were mostly deserted this time of night; he hadn’t meant to cut it this close to curfew. Harry hurried along and tried to ignore the way the portraits and ghosts seemed to pay extra-special attention to his progress. He’d be cross with the Headmaster for prying, if he hadn’t already found out the castle’s non-living residents were just that nosey.

Crossing the Entrance Hall at a fast pace, Harry almost bumped into a rushed-looking Susan Bones. “Oh, sorry, Harry. I didn’t see you there.” She blushed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you for a while. Is now alright?” “Umm…” Harry made a hasty decision. “If you’re quick. I’ve got to be within ‘my Dad’s sight’ by curfew.”

Susan made a sympathetic face at him. “That’s OK. I’m late from the Library myself, and I don’t want to run into Filch. Besides it’s only a little thing…” She glanced at her feet and fidgeted. “I just wanted to thank you for being so kind to me the other week. It meant a lot to me.”

It was Harry who broke eye-contact this time. “Uh. Um. No problem.” Awkward…

Susan stopped chewing her lip and smiled. It was very kind. “No, I mean it. And sorry for crying all over you, Harry. I didn’t mean to get you soggy.”

Harry’s anxiety left him as he laughed. “No problem. It’s fine. I know a bit about losing people, so…” He shrugged.

Susan smiled again and squeezed his arm gently, causing his stomach to flip unexpectedly. “See you around, Harry.” She pulled away and hurried off, a blush still lighting her cheeks.

Harry’s own cheeks were warm in the cool Entrance Hall. He forced himself to look away from where Susan had disappeared and jogged the rest of the way to his father’s office.

His Dad was waiting for him at the door to his office. “You are almost late, Mr Potter.” Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“Yeah, but I’m not, am I?” The man shut and locked the door behind them.

“Such cheek, young man. If that comment had been during school hours, I may well have docked you points. Your cheeks are pink, by the way.”

Harry slapped a hand to his face, as if he could hide its colour. “I’ve been running.”

“Hmm…” A twinkle appeared in Snape’s eye which was uncannily like the Headmaster’s. “So you say.”

The only response Harry could think of to that was to grumble and mutter, “Shut up,” under his breath. He could stick his tongue out, but that would be just childish.

They moved inside after that and set up camp on the sofa – Snape with tea and a potions manual, Harry with hot chocolate and his homework. A comfortable silence surrounded them, which both of them would have once claimed was impossible. Most nights had ended up like this, much to Harry’s surprise, who never would have expected that Professor Snape – for all his temper and dramatics – preferred the quiet. But that was OK. Harry liked quiet too. It made a marked difference from Uncle Vernon’s shouting, Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice and Dudley’s whinging.

It was Snape’s voice which broke the silence first. “Silininus Spindley has once again tried and failed to accurately describe the correct application of Mandrake Root in healing potions. The dunderhead.”

Harry snorted. “D’you call everyone you don’t like a dunderhead?”

His Dad shot him a look over the top of his paper. “Of course. It is very therapeutic.”

“What about people who are actually stupid?”

Snape pretended to think for a minute. “Imbecile seems to fit the bill quite nicely. I believe I will stick with that.”

Harry snickered and turned back to his work, suddenly struck by the fact that his father’s snarky tone was very similar to Shadow’s when he was teasing. Harry thought back to the dream he’d had a couple of weeks ago and the strange woman in it. Did it mean something? His Dad didn’t think so, but Harry couldn’t help but be struck by how vivid it had been, and how much it had felt real once he’d woken up.

He shut the book in front of him. “I’m going to bed.”

His father made a face at him. “Have you finished your homework?”

Harry made a face back. “Almost. But I’m tired and it’ll be a lot better if I finish it in the morning.”

Snape let it go but Harry could tell it was grudgingly. “Very well. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Harry shut the door to his room and wondered if they’d ever be one of those families who’d hug and kiss when they said goodnight. Probably not. Harry wondered if it was Mums who taught everyone how to show affection and if he and his father had been doomed from the start in that regard. Then again, they were so much more comfortable with each other now, especially when you compared their behaviour around each other now than to how they’d been at the start of term…

Harry took a deep breath and opened the door again.

Snape looked up and frowned, concern crossing his features before being carefully hidden. “Did you forget something?”

Harry nodded sharply. “Yes.” Before he could lose his nerve, he marched over and threw an arm across his father’s chest, catching his shoulder and briefly burying his face in the other shoulder. “G’night.”

A gentle hand touched the back of his head and Harry relaxed. “You are a very strange boy. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry stayed where he was for another moment before breaking away and leaving for his room without making eye contact. Hugging was one thing, but talking about it? Harry shuddered.

He settled on the bed and looked at the long mirror at the end of it. Ever since the dream, Harry had been doing this every night; just a quick message to a lost brother. “We’re getting better at this, Shadow. Me and Dad. Still wish you were here, but even if I’m imagining things. Even if… you never find your way back, I think we’ll be OK. It’ll be Christmas soon – just under a month. I hope you don’t mind if I get you a present. Stupid, I know, but…” Harry trailed off and sighed, glancing back to where Salem was coiled sinuously across Harry’s headboard, “it seems really mean not to include you, when you’re the reason I’m even looking forward to Christmas with a family I… love. So, tough, you’re getting a present.”

Salem regarded him lazily for a moment. “Sshadow will be pleasssed. I am sssure.”

Harry snorted. “I doubt it. If he’s anything like me, he’ll be embarrassed.”

Salem’s eyes gleamed. “I would not be embarassssed at pressentsss.”

Harry’s snort turned into a full laugh. “You already know I’m getting you white mice for Christmas, so stop fishing. It’s not like I’ll forget with all your prodding.” He rose from the bed and padded into the bathroom. The Christmas holiday was when his punishment would finish, which seemed like a nice enough present to him. He wondered what present his Dad would like. What Shadow would like. What Ron and Hermione and Hagrid would like. Harry splashed water on his face and groaned. Maybe he could convince Professor Dumbledore to do his Christmas shopping for him… and bribe him with socks.

oooOOOooo

Severus tilted his head and listened. Harry was talking to the mirror again. Quite frankly, that kind of behaviour worried Severus, but if it brought comfort to his boy, he was willing to turn a blind eye. Harry had been through the mill enough this term without Severus adding to it. Again.

Truthfully, in the aftermath of everything, Severus was angrier with his own inability to keep Harry safe than Harry himself. The boy was always going to do reckless things; coming from the background he did, and considering the things that were after him, it was unreasonable to expect Harry to always stay out of mischief. Severus understood that now. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

Albus had sorted out young Malfoy discreetly – packing him off for the remainder of the term to a smaller boarding school in southern France, away from his father’s reach with Black acting as his chaperone. Maybe it would actually teach the brat something along with giving some distance from the war the boy desperately needed. Severus was grateful for the distance. After having heard the full account of the ‘incident’ from Harry, Severus had almost gone straight to wring Draco’s neck.

His temper had been a difficult thing to control these last few weeks. He’d found himself lashing out at his colleagues, his students and even occasionally passing shrubbery if it got in his way. He’d almost lashed out at Harry a couple of times, but…

But then, Harry kept doing unexpected things; like smiling at him, even after he’d been telling him off. Or like what he’d done tonight.

The hug had felt strange, but hadn’t been any less welcome. Severus hadn’t been able to concentrate on his journal since. Lily had always had the same effect; Severus had simply had so little physical kindness in his life, he wasn’t able to resist it. He’d never been able to remain angry at Lily for long and now… now he’d come to know him… it seemed like the same was true for her son.

He sighed. It seemed like he would just have to bottle his anger until someone came in range who actually threatened Harry. Now that Severus was good at. The next person to hurt his son wouldn’t know what had hit them.

Harry breathed a deep, deep sigh of relief. It was over. Somehow they’d done it.

He dropped his arm from where it had been waving the Hogwarts Express goodbye after the train rounded the bend. Somehow, he and his Dad had survived their first term at Hogwarts as father and son. He turned and grinned at Snape, who was waiting a few feet away to escort him back to the castle. Tonight was their last night at Hogwarts before heading back to Tharabraye Manor for the winter holidays. His Dad had managed to get Professor Sinistra to watch the remaining Slytherins for him, meaning he and his Dad were now free until the start of the Easter term!

Except for the homework. Harry scowled slightly at the memory. Whoever came up with the idea of work over the holidays ought to be rounded up and shot. So what if their OWLs were next year? Those were more than a year away; even Hermione wasn’t worried yet.

The walk back up to the Castle was… nice. The air was chilled and there was a stillness in the air which only accompanied the colder days of winter. Harry had to bite back a grin as his father shot the well-frozen Lake a death-glare. Harry knew when to not push his luck, but the fact that someone resented a Lake because it had hurt Harry was…

Well, like he said, the walk back was nice.

The Quidditch pitch caught the corner of Harry’s eye and he bit his lip.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I go flying?”

Snape relocated his glare so it also included the Quidditch pitch. “Term is over, Potter. All your little team-mates have gone home for the holidays and I’m not letting you fly unattended.”

Harry winced internally. Still overly protective? Definitely. “But you’ll be here, won’t you? If you’re still here, I won’t be on my own.”

His Dad shot him an incredulous look. “And you expect me to stand here in the freezing cold watching you complete pointless acrobatics?”

Harry shot him a glare of his own. “No. You put on extra thick robes this morning. I was there, remember? And you’ve got your cloak. Besides, I thought you could come with me.” Harry tried to make his eyes as wide and pleading as possible. Ginny had said that when she pulled that with Mr Weasley, she was able to get away with murder. Harry may not be a girl, but he was more than prepared to try anything that would give him the upper hand. (Besides, it’s not like anyone his own age was around to witness it).

And then – lo and behold – it worked.

Snape rolled his eyes and huffed, but let Harry steer them over to the broom shed with the minimum amount of grumbling. Harry was simultaneously stunned and elated, even though in the end he couldn’t persuade his Dad to fly with him. Still, there would still be other times.

Harry snagged one of the old school brooms and spent the next half-an-hour practising loop-the-loops and hairpin turns. True, his Firebolt would have handled better, but the last thing he wanted was to test his Dad’s patience, waiting for him to run up to Gryffindor Tower and back again. Besides, Harry found he didn’t care his manoeuvres weren’t as fancy as they would be normally. The sheer joy he could feel when he turned the broom towards the stands and waved at the figure standing there… and having the figure wave back… was indescribable.

Harry’s cheeks ached from the cold and from grinning too much when he finally came to land. He would have liked to spend longer up in the air, but even wearing that thick cloak, Snape had to be getting cold.

Harry rushed up to the figure striding to meet him. “Was I any good?”

Snape rolled his eyes and cuffed the back of his head, which somehow turned into his hand settling on Harry’s shoulder. They began to walk towards the Castle. “You know it was, you brat.”

“Yeah, but did you think it was good?”

Snape looked down to where Harry was still captured by his guiding hand. “I think once again Slytherin is going to be sorely challenged for the House Cup this year.”

Harry grinned. That sounded good enough to him.

The rest of the day passed quickly in the quiet Castle. Harry was busy packing; getting Hedwig and Salem ready for their departure the next day and trying to think what he’d need to bring and what he’d need to leave behind.

Snape, naturally, was already packed.

Still, it took right up until dinner time for the chaos on his bed to even look remotely organised. Their lunch had been a quick sandwich in Snape’s quarters, but Dumbledore had insisted that they spend dinner up in the Great Hall with the rest of the staff and the students who’d remained behind.

Harry turned and smiled at the mirror. “We’re goin’ home tomorrow, Shadow. I know how excited you’d be if you were here. All the things you’d want to do once we got back... Talk t’you later. I’ve got to go to dinner.”

oooOOOooo

Shadow froze from where he’d trudging diligently along the path and cocked his head in surprise as he heard Harry’s voice echoing from behind him. Spinning round, his eyes desperately searched the surrounding mist... There!

Harry.

Sitting on the bed in an unfamiliar room.

But still. Just. Harry.

Shadow didn’t even think, just ran, harder than he could ever remember running in his life before, and flung himself at that small, shimmering square.

The world shattered around him with an almighty crash and he found himself falling, falling, before landing on something that let out a sharp “Oof!” of surprise. Shadow would have seconded that thought if he’d had any breath left in his body. There was colour! Colour was everywhere for the first time in what felt like months.

Broken glass surrounded him and the person he’d landed on, and Shadow felt a moment’s chagrin. Then the person beneath him struggled up from under the pile of clothes they’d been trapped under and Shadow found himself staring into a pair of wide, green eyes.

Harry’s eyes.

Before Shadow could even draw breath to yell in delight, a pair of arms came up around him and grabbed him – so firmly he couldn’t breathe at all. At least, that was the only explanation he could come up with for the sudden tightness in his throat.

Harry was shakily whispering the same thing over and over, “You came back. You came back!”

Feeling utterly shattered, Shadow could only bury his face in his brother’s chest and think, So I did.

oooOOOooo

“Dad! Dad! Dad!”

Severus jerked upright from where he’d been napping on the couch. Something was wrong; Harry was screaming… 

He only got halfway to his feet before the bedroom door burst open and expelled… not one but two Harrys.

What?

He was hallucinating. Or dreaming. Must be.

The Harry in front was grinning fit to burst, clutching the hand of the other Harry and dragging him after him. The second boy had a shy, almost sheepish smile on his face and…

The penny dropped.

Severus couldn’t breathe. He just sank back onto the couch and let the first Harry – his Harry – throw his free arm around him. The other boy – Shadow, must be – hovered in the background, watching with a well-bitten lip caught between his teeth.

This is unreal.

Now he had had the chance for his brain to catch up, the other boy did look slightly different. Harry had grown a good couple of inches since the previous summer. Harry’s features had become sharper – more defined – over the passing months. Shadow looked even younger than the Harry Severus had first seen after Lily’s charm had worn off months ago: young, frightened, vulnerable. Though he still had the soft brown hair and bright green eyes, his face was more rounded and he looked altogether smaller.

Harry had been talking straight over Severus’ thoughts. “I told you. I told you! Shadow’s been real all along and it wasn’t me imagining it. He’s here! Shadow’s found his way here! I knew you could do it.”

This last was said to the boy Harry still hadn’t let go of, and who hadn’t let go of Harry. That alone was telling. The boy smiled back and swayed a little on his feet.

“Harry.” Severus put a hand on Harry’s chest and pushed him gently – but firmly – out from the one-armed hug he was inflicting on Severus. “Let the boy sit down. He looks ready to pass out.”

Harry grinned and obligingly let go and stepped back.

Severus stood from the couch and caught hold Shadow’s elbow, intending to draw him over and plonk him down on the cushions, but suddenly found that he couldn’t due to fact the young boy was now clinging to his waist and making a sound like a wounded animal.

“Shadow!” Harry had looked utterly stricken from the first gasped sob and it seemed like any second now Severus would have two inconsolable children on his hands. Harry reached out and tried to touch Shadow’s shoulder, but the younger boy was shaking too much.

Severus sighed and pointed at the couch. Is it too much to ask for just for a moment’s peace? “Sit!” he ordered. Harry sat; his eyes were still wide and horrified. Severus manhandled the younger boy over and managed to manoeuver him into a sitting position leaning into his side. Not that that was too difficult; the child had morphed from ‘stiff as a board’ into ‘rag doll’ in a matter of seconds, legs sagging underneath him. It looked like Severus had relocated to the sofa just in time.

“Alright. Alright.” He rubbed rough circles on the child’s back. Harry reached over and grabbed the younger boy’s hand. “That’s enough now. You’re not injured. You’re not being tortured. Nothing’s coming to get you. So calm down. That’s enough.” Severus was careful to keep his voice level, well aware that it wasn’t the words which were important in the situation, but the tone.

Harry’s white face stared up at him. “What’s wrong with him?” he mouthed, looking completely helpless.

“Shock. The boy has obviously been frightened for a long while. And now he feels safe. Something I’m sure you’ve experienced yourself before, yes?” He probably shouldn’t be so blunt seeing as the only reason he recognised the symptoms and knew how to cure them was because of Harry’s previous reactions to situations, but, well, he’d been asleep and, more importantly, half an hour ago Shadow hadn’t even been real. Not really.

Harry relaxed, tension leaching out of him in a whoosh of breath and shot Severus a relieved look. “Oh.” He squeezed Shadow’s hand tightly and shook it a little to get his attention. The boy didn’t look up, but the keening lessened in volume. “Hey. Hey, Shadow. ‘S’OK. Just me and Dad. You know you’re safe. It’s fine. And we’ll never send you away again. Promise. Right, Dad?” Harry shot him a challenging look.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the tone but took the cue. “Certainly not. What did you think we were going to do? Leave you out on the doorstep for the milkman? Knock you over the head and abandon you in the woods? Poison you and pickle you for potions ingredients? Get the Headmaster to…”

There was a wet sniffle-chuckle from his midriff. Severus wrinkled his nose in disgust, using the motion to disguise the relief on his face.

“Well, now I just feel stupid,” a weak, shaky voice admitted. And there was another shock. Harry’s voice had started to break during the past term. This boy’s hadn’t even started. “And there I was thinking I’d have to tip the milkman.”

Severus looked down at the bowed head. “Well, there can’t be too much wrong with you if you’re making off-colour jokes.” Thank God. “So if you’ll excuse me, there is a Pepper-Up potion in my office with your name on it.”

Severus stood, pushed the small body into Harry’s arms without fineness and left the room. And a large Firewhiskey for me, he added silently.

By the time he’d returned, the two boys were leaning their heads together and whispering as if sharing secrets. Severus watched them for a moment. A lot of the tension had left the younger boy’s shoulders and Harry had so much honest joy on his face…

Severus found he couldn’t bear to be excluded from this moment, no matter how much it might be more advisable for him to step back and let the boys reconnect. The knowledge that this second boy – this changeling – was as real as Harry had said, that he was truly Harry’s brother, then that meant he had a second son.

A second son.

When months ago he hadn’t even counted on having one.

So, call him selfish, but he wasn’t going to miss a single moment if he could help it.

Shadow took the potion with a hoarse “Thank you,” when he handed it out and made a face exactly like Harry’s would have been when the steam piped out of his ears. It was fascinating to watch the resemblance.

Shadow, he noticed, was avoiding his gaze and leaning further into Harry’s side away from where Severus was looming above him. Severus took a seat in the armchair off to the side. He wasn’t surprised at the embarrassment or the lack of trust from the child now despite the fact he had been clinging to Severus earlier. He had simply been the only unthreatening adult in the vicinity – someone big enough and scary enough to protect him from the monsters (real or imagined). That initial forced closeness didn’t equal camaraderie – it didn’t even equal trust. After all, they had never even truly spoken to each other before today. The only other time he’d met Severus, Severus had been a party to banishing him to whatever hell he had found the strength to crawl out of. But this boy clearly trusted Harry and if Harry trusted Severus, then…

Severus wasn’t under any illusions that he knew this child just because he knew Harry, just because he loved Harry. This was a completely separate person, no matter how similar their mannerisms, so to just expect them to fall into a loving family bond like they’d known each other for years was laughable. But if there was one thing Severus knew for certain, it was that he’d try his damnedest to get to know this boy, and that he’d do everything in his power to protect him and to learn to love him. And Severus had always been a man of strong convictions.

And in the meantime… Severus hid a smile behind his hand as Harry tugged on the other boy’s tangled hair in an attempt to get him to laugh. In the meantime they both had Harry to help them.

Severus settled back deeper into his chair. In a little while he’d have to contact Albus – inform him of the situation, enrol the child in Hogwarts, order dinner from the kitchens and a thousand other things – but for now, he was quite content to listen to the snapping of the fire and to the quiet voice of the young boy as he tripped over the story of what had happened to him.

The less said about the trip back to Tharabraye Manor, the better.

Shadow had – ironically – been jumping at shadows all the way and Harry had been torn between elation at his brother’s return and a deep worry about how unhappy and scared the boy was. Shadow had point-blank refused to sleep anywhere other than Harry’s bed the night before, clinging to his brother like a life-jacket, and had then woken Harry up in the middle of the night with his panicked cries.

The result of which was a distraught Harry knocking on Severus’ door at two in the morning and gibbering that he didn’t know what to do.

Severus felt his reaction to that – given the fact it was two in the morning and that he’d been fast asleep three minutes previously – was, he felt, eminently reasonable. He’d ended up grabbing both boys by their scruffs and hauling them into his room. His bed was big enough – just – and at least that way he and Harry were able to catch cat-naps in between the night-terrors.

Severus was very worried about the young child. He was willing to give him time to become accustomed to being safe before presenting him with any kind of outside help – medical or otherwise. Who knows? Maybe the child would relax enough to heal just from Harry’s and his help alone. Young people were resilient – or so he’d been told.

The fact the child’s future well-being depended on Severus being a reliable role-model and accessible parent was enough to keep him up for most of the night even without Harry accidently kicking him in the leg.

And so, on edge and sleep-deprived, they’d finally arrived back home. Severus was eternally grateful that even though he’d contacted Albus about the whole convoluted mess, he’d also managed to persuade the Headmaster to leave it to Severus to sort out. After all, this was his family, no matter how confusing or frustrating.

Albus had twinkled sadly at him and told him he’d make arrangements to enrol Shadow in Hogwarts for the next term, which was both a relief, and a whole new worry.

Severus gave his dusty hall a disapproving look. He had a lot of housework to catch up on.

He cleared his throat imperiously and pointed up the rosewood staircase once the two boys had turned to face him. “Bed. Both of you need more rest and I’m not putting up with your sleep-deprived behaviour any longer. Harry, you’ll find clean sheets in the airing cupboard in the bathroom. It’ll do for you both for the moment; we’ll see about a bed for Shadow tomorrow. Shadow, it is broad daylight and Harry will be right beside you. Don’t you dare try to stay awake; you need your sleep. I want at least four hours with you both drooling on the pillow. Understood?”

Shadow blinked a bit at the tirade, sleepy eyes confused, but Harry stuck his tongue out. “I do not drool in my sleep. And neither does Shadow. Right, Shadow?” He elbowed him in the side and the younger boy seemed to catch up.

“Right.” He blinked away the sleepiness and there was a new fierceness in his eyes. “I don’t drool on the pillow either.”

Looking at the identical indignant expressions, Severus fought the urge to laugh, getting a sudden flash of what life would be like for the three of them from now on. He’ll never get a moment’s peace again, but truthfully? Severus would rather have this than anything else in the world. Even if did mean his two children constantly ganging up on him.

He kept his voice firm via a monumental effort of will, but his raised eyebrows no doubt showed he wasn’t really angry with them. “No more cheek from you, Potter. You had better both be asleep when I check on you. And I will be getting you up for a late lunch around two o’clock, understand?”

He was rewarded by the boys shooting him wide – and again, identical – grins and crashing up the staircase with their bags hauled over their shoulders. Severus winced, knowing that his precious house wouldn’t remain in all of its refurbished glory for very much longer…

Severus sniffed delicately and ascended the stairs with dignity. They were all home and safe and that was what mattered. Hopefully if he didn’t give himself time to panic about having a whole new person to look after, he wouldn’t. For now, he desperately wanted to get a couple of hours of extra sleep and then a little time to get the house in order. Surely that couldn’t be too much to ask?

Severus stopped abruptly, his hand resting on the door handle. “Albus. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

oooOOOooo

Harry glanced at Shadow, who was lying on his back and staring blankly at the ceiling. After a moment’s thought, he shifted to copy him.

“Are you OK?”

He felt the bed shift as Shadow shrugged.

He waited, fingers crossed.

“I s’pose.” Shadow’s forehead wrinkled up in a frown. “It’s not that I’m not happy to be here, it’s just…” He sighed. “It’s just, I sometimes forget that I’m actually here – that I actually got out.”

Harry knocked his hand into the back of Shadow’s. “D’you want to talk about it? I mean, I know you told us about the whole wandering about in the mist, unable to get out, but I think more stuff happened than you’ve said to us.”

Shadow gave up trying to stare the ceiling into submission and rolled over onto his side, facing Harry. “Not yet. I mean, I do, but every time I open my mouth to say something, the words kinda get stuck in my throat. Like I’ll choke if I try to say them out loud, you know?”

Harry smiled sadly and ruffled the younger boy’s hair, making him screw up his face and bat Harry’s hand away. Both of them grinned for a moment. “You’ll be OK. Me and Dad’ll make sure of it. Promise. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

Shadow shut his eyes and appeared to fall asleep, which meant Harry almost jumped out of his skin five minutes later when the other boy whispered, “I met Mum.”

Harry’s eyes went round. “No.”

Shadow cracked an eyelid open and shot him a grin. “Yeah. She was pretty awesome.”

“How?”

Shadow wrinkled his nose. “Dunno. Stuff was weird there. It never quite made sense, so being here’s a bit tough. Y’know, dealing the whole ‘laws of physics’ thing again.”

Harry snorted and batted Shadow’s head. “That’s the law of force and motion.”

Shadow retaliated by pushing Harry off the bed. He peeped over the side of the bed and blandly recited, “Beware the force of gravity, which draws the bread you have at tea, straight to the ground. Butter-side down,” and grinned.

Harry picked himself up and mock-glared at the boy now sprawled across the whole bed. “OK, I deserved that, but budge over – you’re all over my bed!”

Shadow stuck his tongue out. “My bed too!”

Harry launched himself at his brother and by sheer dint of being a few inches taller, managed to haul him most of the way off. Shadow hooked his feet around the bed post and held on for dear life.

The door opened.

“I must say, that’s the most original way to move a bed that I’ve ever seen,” a voice commented mildly.

Harry almost dropped Shadow. “Headmaster! Er…”

Dumbledore twinkled delightedly. “And a good day to you too, Harry, Shadow.” He nodded at each boy in turn. “I had to bring your father a message and he asked me to check on you for him. I suppose this isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he told me he’d sent you to bed?”

Harry carefully lowered his brother to the ground. Shadow’s body had turned as stiff as a board and once he was on his feet, he sidled up as close to Harry as he could, eying the Headmaster warily.

Dumbledore tracked the movement sadly. “I have no intention of harming you or taking you away from your family, child.”

Shadow shrugged, pretending not to care. “I- I know, but…”

“But your last memory of me isn’t exactly a pleasant one?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you – I still remember all you’ve done for Harry and me, but… I want to trust you, but…”

“I understand.” Dumbledore walked over and sat down on the side of the bed, his expression sorrowful. “And I can’t help but be so terribly sorry, my boy. I never would have wished you harm. It has only recently come to light what Lily must have done to protect you both, but you must understand, it has never been done before, so no one could have known… Yet that is no excuse. I am sorry. I should have understood that…” He trailed off.

There was silence in the room for a long moment – long enough that Harry started to feel awkwardly that the clock was ticking too loudly. These were two people he really cared about. Shadow alone meant so much to him already, but the Headmaster had always made him feel safe and loved. And this year especially, the old man had taken him under his wing and personally taught him so much, Harry almost couldn’t bear to take Shadow’s side.

But if Shadow decided he couldn’t bear to be around Dumbledore – didn’t want anything to do with the man because of his hand in banishing Shadow to that other place, even if he’d only been trying to protect Harry… Well, then. Harry would just have to put his personal feelings aside and protect Shadow by severing ties with the old man.

Even though he really, really didn’t want to.

And then Shadow completely surprised Harry – and probably the Headmaster too – by stepping forward and going to sit down beside the old man. “I forgive you.” The boy fiddled with a loose thread on the bedspread and made a face when it came loose. “Though you have to promise presents to make up for it. Lots of presents!”

Harry was torn between grinning uncontrollably and rolling his eyes. Typical Shadow – never doing what anyone expected. Though if Shadow was getting presents, then Harry was definitely getting some too. After all, people had said he’d been imagining things all year – they’d better make up for that now that he’d proved them all wrong!

The old man smiled kindly, and the small boy’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Oh, I promise there will be plenty of Christmas presents this year for you both. You’ll be very safe here, Shadow. Your father will make sure of it, Harry will make sure of it, and I will do everything in my power to protect all of you.”

“Until Voldemort comes back properly.” Harry almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut when Shadow frowned. They’d only just got him smiling.

Dumbledore winked at Harry. “Maybe even then. Harry, I have a feeling that your little encounter with him earlier in the year may have caused more harm to him more than we first suspected. He and his followers have been very quiet of late. And I have had quite a few leads in how to decrease his power. Between that and everyone fighting for the Light, you know, I believe we might even win.”

oooOOOooo

Severus sat and stared at the wooden box Albus had delivered, fingers shaking as he reached out to stroke its lid.

Inside this box lay a memory. Lily’s memory.

Albus said she had left it in his possession shortly after she’d had little Harry, with instructions to keep its existence from everyone, to protect it with everything he had. And then, last night, a little after midnight, the box had opened with a soft click.

Inside, Albus had found memories addressed to himself and Severus. He had already viewed his own, but brought the second to Severus, believing it to be private. The old man’s words were still ringing in his ears, “She explains everything for us, my dear boy.”

And now Severus is sitting in the dark, staring at Lily’s last ever message to him. He can hardly bear to open the box which contains it, because he’d already said his goodbyes years ago. How can he bear to see her sweet face again, speaking to him, and knowing the whole time that these will be the last words he will hear from her? Her death had been a deep shock – very abrupt – and over before he’d had time to process it, but knowing, knowing…

Severus swallowed back a sob. Or was it indigestion? Keeping an eye on the boys and hurrying them out the door meant that he’d rushed his breakfast that morning…

Would he be strong enough to learn what Lily had said? Or would he keep the memory forever by his bedside, comforted by the potential…

Severus already knew the answer.

The lid flipped back on its oiled hinges, the memory flowed smoothly into Albus’ pensieve and Severus looked.

The hospital room looked comfortable and airy; its floor was clean and shiny and the windows were open to a Muggle London street through which a shaft of yellow sunshine had found its way. The bed itself was strewn with a few more pillows than may have been strictly allowed, and lying on the bed…

Lily was smiling down at the tiny bundle sleeping in her arms.

And then she looked up, straight at Severus.

“Hello, love.”

Severus felt his throat close up. It was almost like seeing her for real again after all these years, and even though Severus had braced himself for it, he was surprised by how much he wanted.

Lily pointed at the chair beside her bed. “Have a seat over here. Then I’ll know where to look while I talk. I understand I’ve got an awful lot to explain.”

Severus sank down obediently into the chair and stared straight into memory-Lily’s eyes, shocked she still knew at which angle to look in order to meet his eyes, despite the fact she hadn’t seen him for months.

“Thank you. I’m sorry – I won’t have long. Not near long enough to say everything I want to say to you, anyway. James has gone to tell his friends and celebrate, but he’ll be back soon…” Lily sighed and looked back at the bundle in her arms. “I didn’t want you here to talk about James. Severus–” She looked up and bit her lip, a radiant smile starting at the corner of her mouth. “Say hello to your son. Our baby boy.”

She leaned forward and for the first time, Severus saw the baby’s face. Tiny and formless and so helpless. Harry. Severus scrubbed a hand across his face viciously and tried to pretend he wasn’t crying.

“Isn’t he perfect, Sev? Isn’t he beautiful?” Lily sniffed and appeared to be holding back her own tears. “I really wish you could be here to see him – the first time I mean. I’ll just have to comfort myself with the thought that you will share this with me eventually.”

Severus nodded silently and desperately wanted to lean in – to hold them both. This right here was everything he’d ever wanted.

“I can already tell he’s going to look very like you, love. But he has my eyes. I think I’ll keep those when I cast the spell to hide his true appearance. It won’t hurt him, but it’ll keep him safer from You-Know-Who. You understand why, don’t you?”

She bit her lip. “If You-Know-Who finds out one of his followers has a child… He’d force you to get Harry to join the ranks the second the boy could use a wand, and if you refused, he’d kill you, Sev. And then probably Harry too. Because of what I’ve done – prolonging the pregnancy, marrying James – you’ll never be put in that horrible position, regardless of whether I’m still around or not. But still, can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course.” Severus’ voice was very quiet so he was able to pretend that was why she hadn’t heard him. A tear slipped down her cheek as she gazed at her baby. Their baby.

“But… This isn’t entirely why I need to leave you this message, Sev. Not only do I need to tell you that Harry Potter is in actuality Harry Snape, but there is something much more important I need to tell you about him. Our baby needs a lot more protection than I ever originally imagined; from people who once might have helped him.

“They haven’t examined him thoroughly here at St Mungo’s yet – only the things that are done in Muggle hospitals like weight, reaction time, measurements. I can’t let them examine him with magic yet.

“You know, all through my pregnancy, I was sure I was carrying twins. I was so shocked when they told me I’d only be having one baby. I couldn’t understand it. So I did some research – a lot of research in fact.” Lily gave him a sheepish smile. “You know what I can be like.”

Severus rolled his eyes, and tried not to crack a smile at the image of a very pregnant Lily poring over stacks and stacks of books.

“It didn’t take all that much searching to find out why, though I didn’t realise it until I held him in my arms. It was in one of those awful books which tell you everything that can go wrong with your magical baby.

“When I first held him, I remembered what it had said. It was like I had the book open in front of me, the memory was that clear. It can only happen in magical children and… Do you know about conjoined twins? Babies born with their limbs still attached to each other?”

Lily frowned, her face so sad and lonely Severus wanted to go back in time and strangle his younger self for leaving her so alone. “Well, Severus, congratulations, we actually have two sons. Only, the way they are linked together is in the mind, not in the body. Sometimes, when the magical core develops, it splits into two in preparation for the cells to divide into two babies. But… sometimes, the magical core splits, creating two separate minds, but the physical matter never gets the message, so the two children are trapped together permanently.”

Lily looked directly at him, expression extremely sombre. “It’s terrible what they’ll do to them, Sev. The Healer will test for this condition, and when they find it… I’ve already examined him and there are definitely two little ones in there, love. Sometimes I can even tell which one’s which – they take it in turns to be asleep and awake. I- I can’t let them do what they will do when they find out about the two of them. It might be selfish, but how could you choose between your sons? Are they not both people? Are they not equally deserving of the chance to live?

“Sorry, I’m not making much sense, am I?

“The staff here will do the test and then use spells to ‘subdue’ the baby they decide has the weaker magical core. They’ll continue casting the spells until the weaker magic dies down and goes out completely. They’ll kill our baby, Sev! Only because if they both survive they might – emphasis on the might – cause each other to be mentally unbalanced, or magically unbalanced, because they’ll be two people living in one head. Well, I won’t let them do it, I won’t!”

Lily was magnificent in her protective fury, red hair falling about her face like a mane. And so unbearably vulnerable.

“They’re both my sons! I’ve found a way, Sev. I’ve found a way to put the little one to sleep, to sink him deep into Harry’s subconscious, so they won’t detect him – a way to make him think he is Harry for a good many years. That way they can both get used to each other and it won’t be such a shock when the time comes for them to split. The spell won’t last forever – in fact, I’d never want it to – but it should last long enough for them to grow and learn to protect themselves, which brings me to my last point.”

Lily leaned forward and gazed seriously into Severus’ eyes. “It’s a version of the old Greek spell we discovered in fifth year. Do you remember? But I’ve worked out how to cast it so that on one of their birthdays, our boys will start to separate. So that the little one starts to become aware of himself again. One day Harry will look in the mirror and see his brother.” She shot him a shy smile. “I haven’t named the little one yet – I thought I’d leave that up to you. Though I have been tempted to call him Severus.” She laughed. “What James doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right? And he won’t know.”

Her expression turned troubled. “I do care for him, Severus, but my first choice for husband would have always been you. You understand don’t you? I married James to keep our children safe. To keep your children safe. I try comfort myself with the idea that you would have approved if you’d have known.

“Severus–”her expression was tortured “–all the magic I’ve done. All the protective spells, the prolonging of the pregnancy so no one would suspect, and the magic I still need to do to keep them safe… I may not survive, Sev. It’s too much for one person and I don’t dare ask for help, not with our babies’ lives at stake. It won’t be straight away,” she rested her cheek on top of her baby’s head, “it’ll be more of a slow wasting – like my Mum dying of cancer. I hate the idea of leaving Harry, leaving the little one, and most of all, leaving you, Severus, but I have faith that once you learn the truth, you’ll protect your sons with everything you have. Hopefully by the time you realise what I’ve done, the Dark Lord will be long dead and you’ll have healed a little.

“My leaving this message to you is only guesswork on my part; if all goes as I expect the boys will become aware on their fifteenth birthday. Soon, Harry and his little shadow will be ready to be apart and I’m telling you now, so that you can be prepared and help them when it does happen. I’ve trusted Albus with this too, so if it is too much for you… Well, the boys will have someone to help and protect them either way.”

She shook her head, grief pulling at her mouth and the corners of her eyes. “It might have already happened, in which case I am so sorry for any trouble or sorrow I have caused you all. But, in case they haven’t, I’ll add a little something extra to the spell so you can break it yourself. And maybe, if all of my foolish plans work, maybe the little one can have a body of his own – a life of his own.

“When the time comes, all he needs to do is break the mirror from his side. When he’s old enough. When the little one’s strong enough, tell him to break through and I have faith my spell will work. After all, I’ll probably almost drain the magic I have to get this to work. And then you’ll have two sons to drive you up the wall.” Lily grinned, almost as if she could see his unimpressed expression.

“Take care of them, Sev… I wish with all my heart that I could be with you and that we could be a complete family together, but I’ve come to realise life doesn’t always happen the way you expect.

“I do realise some of my plans may have already back-fired a little. I never intended to die protecting these boys when I started everything, but now I’ll do anything and everything necessary. James is on You-Know-Who’s wanted list after we and the Order scuppered his plans last month and I… I may not always be around to care for our boys, to love them, so please say you’ll be there for them if I can’t. I know it’s a lot to ask. Oh–”

She cut herself off and looked down at the now-squirming bundle. “Look who’s woken up to say hello to his Daddy.” The baby stopped squirming and a pink arm emerged, grabbing for Lily’s long hair. “That’s right, little one, this is your Daddy – Severus Snape. Yes, he is. And he’ll love you so much. I know he will.”

She looked up and Severus and smiled. That smile contained sadness, love, hope and joy. For herself, for Severus, and for her two children.

The memory dissolved around Severus, leaving him feeling like his whole world had been turned upside down.

Shadow was meant to exist. And Albus and Severus had banished him. Lily’s little one had been abandoned by those who should have protected him the most and Severus was torn between joy at knowing his Lily had loved him all along and grief at how he might have betrayed her hopes for their child.

And Lily would have died anyway, regardless of whether he had opened his mouth to the Dark Lord that night. There was such messy grief tied up with that thought, he didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

His dear Lily had already known she was going to die for love before the Dark Lord came knocking on her door that Halloween.

Severus carefully tipped the memory back into the phial and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. There was no point in blaming himself now. Both Lily and he had made mistakes regarding this whole situation – if only she’d set the message to arrive sooner, then he could have had years with Harry, if not with his mother. But then, maybe Lily hadn’t thought she’d die only just over a year later. The only thing he could do for both of them now is to move forward and protect their boys from any future threats… and knowing Harry, there’d probably be many.

He stood and glided out the bedroom and down the corridor. There was no way he’d be able to sleep now, so he might as well get started on his chores; the first one being to check on the boys.

The door to their room opened silently and Severus wordlessly gave thanks for the invention of WD40. Albus looked up from the chair he was sitting vigil in and nodded silently at him. Severus waved at him to stay seated. If the old man wanted to watch over them, then Severus certainly wasn’t going to complain – and there weren’t many other people he’d trust with this particular duty.

As Severus got closer to the bed, he noticed Harry’s breathing was deep enough, and that his sprawled position was relaxed enough, for the boy to truly be asleep, but Shadow… He was still far too tense.

Severus sat down on the edge of the bed and laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Shadow."

A moment’s hesitation and then the child rolled over to face him.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

A shrug. “Dunno.”

The sullen tone once would have had Severus seething, but now he employed his new-found (and still self-shocking) patience and reached out to smooth his hand through the boy’s hair. “I’ve just received a fourteen year-old message from your mother. Would you like to hear about it?”

A pause, then the tousled head nodded. “I think I remember the end of that. Did Harry tell you I could once remember everything that happened to the both of us before we were separated? Not anymore though. So, I remember that bit. At least, I remember her saying you were my Dad… Or Harry’s Dad or whatever.”

“Your father,” Severus stated firmly. No way was he going to start off on the wrong foot with this child. “That was one point she made very clear. She knew all about you and Harry being separate people. She even called you her ‘little one’ and then referred to Harry by his name. It was very clear… she loved you both and wanted me to do the same.”

The small face looked both uncertain and hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yes. She even thought about calling you Severus.”

Shadow’s nose wrinkled and Severus huffed out a laugh. “That was not a hint, Shadow.”

Worried green eyes studied his face. “I wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, it’s just… my name’s Shadow now – Harry named me and it’s stuck. It may not be conventional, but I like it. Is- is that ok?”

“Don’t wind yourself up. I think changing your name now would leave both Harry and you very confused. But…” Severus cut himself off, and then forced himself to continue. “But, my middle name is Aramis. As Harry is known as Harry James Snape – and if you don’t like the name Severus – maybe I could put the name on your birth certificate as Shadow Aramis Snape?”

“Huh.” The skin around Shadow’s eyes relaxed and his whole body seemed to melt into the bed. “I could get used to that. So, you really want me around, huh?”

Severus forced back a growl and hauled the boy off the bed into a fierce hug. “Yes, I want you around. Harry wants you around. Get that into your thick skull, you little dunderhead. And if you even think about trying to leave, I will not be held responsible for my use of Sticking Charms!”

The boy squirmed to get away, even as he started giggling. Severus could hear Albus chuckling in the background and made a mental note to threaten to hex him if he ever said anything to Minerva.

“OK, OK… Dad,” the word was said very tentatively, “Fine, I’ll stick around… No pun intended.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “‘No pun intended’, indeed. I was not born yesterday, brat. Now, go to sleep. Properly, this time.”

Severus made himself sit there for the next half an hour, humming Greensleeves and stroking his hand through the child’s hair. Some things were more important than maintaining one’s imagine. Harry was resilient enough to cope with Severus’ stand-offish nature. Shadow was not.

“Well done, my boy,” Albus whispered after Shadow’s breathing eventually evened out. “Some days I can barely recognise you, though I promise they’re all changes for the better. You’re becoming the man I always knew you could be.”

Severus sighed and forced himself to take it as the compliment it was. “Thank you, Albus. Will you watch them for me?”

“I hardly think fourteen year-old boys need to be hovered over, but I will of course do as you ask, my boy. They’ll be fine. Both of them.”

Severus felt something relax in his chest. If he had Albus backing him up through this, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t undo all of the damage done to these boys, but it might well give them a good head-start.

Heart lighter than it had been all year, Severus went downstairs to start to get lunch ready. He supposed he might even set a place for Albus, the interfering old coot.

Despite the revelations and confessions of that day, it wasn’t all smooth sailing from that point on. Severus was still prone to anger; Harry to disobedience; and Shadow to timidity. But even though there was still a lot unsaid, they managed to fall into step with an ease which surprised everyone but themselves.

Severus tasked Albus with arranging and explaining everything with the other staff at Hogwarts. For once, he was content to leave the responsibility in someone else’s hands. His and Albus’ guilt over what they’d done to Shadow was never voiced – you don’t burden a child with that kind of emotion beyond a sincere apology and a promise to do better – but it was shown in one hundred different ways that they doted over the younger boy. Harry didn’t mind; he knew they cared for him too and would have been indignant had they treated Shadow as being any less special than Harry knew he was.

Harry himself handed Salem over to be Shadow’s familiar with great ceremony; he already had Hedwig and the snake had always had more of an affinity with the ‘mirror boy’. Shadow had been delighted, but still experienced anxiety over the idea that he was separate from Harry and would now have to make his own decisions in the world. Salem’s warm presence curled tightly around his arm helped a little with that.

And so the family settled; it was too early to speculate over what the new term at Hogwarts might bring for them all. Far better to seize the moment and make it count…

oooOOOooo

Snape had left the making of the Christmas cake up to Harry this year, which was turning out to be a less than brilliant plan. Aside from the fact that he’d never made a Christmas cake before, he had also discovered that Shadow – despite having many memories to the contrary – couldn’t cook to save his life.

“D’you think you’re not supposed to be able to stir it?” the younger boy asked, poking the immobile wooden spoon with interest. Harry repressed the urge to sigh.

“Somehow I don’t think so.”

“Hmm, how about you hang onto the bowl and I try to stir it again?”

Harry glanced up at the blob of cake mixture on the ceiling. “Let’s do that... only, you’re the one holding the bowl this time.”

Another five minutes later and Harry was ready to admit defeat. “I give up! It has all the ingredients in it, so let’s just shove it in the oven,” he said grumpily, wiping an arm across his forehead.

“If we can get it out of the bowl...” Shadow agreed dubiously. “Maybe we shouldn’t have added so much treacle.”

Harry gave him a look as if to say ‘you think?’ and glanced over at the empty tin on the sideboard.

Shadow flushed. “Well... The lid fell off... and it all sort of poured in.”

“Treacle doesn’t pour, it gloops!”

“So sue me; I wanted to see what happened!”

“I figured. Hand me that spatula would you? It looks sturdy enough to get all this into the cake tin. At least, I hope so. I don’t want to be the one explaining to Dad why his cake has a wooden spoon in it.”

Shadow perched on a chair, wisely staying out of the way, as Harry hacked at the mixture. “Don’t you think it’s weird how we can have the same memories of how to make something, but completely different approaches to actually doing it?”

Harry grinned at him – he’d just managed to lever most of the mess in the bowl over to where it was supposed to be – “You’ll get used to it. Like I got used to only having half of my magic.”

“Technically it wasn’t yours in the first place, but a mixture of both yours and mine.”

Harry rolled his eyes, flushing with pleasure at the memory of Snape allowing them to view the scene with Lily’s final words to him. “Yeah, yeah, I heard what Mum said too, but you’ve got to admit, it was mine first.”

His brother sniffed haughtily, trying to unsuccessfully stop his lips from curling into a smile. “I admit nothing.”

“Tch. Come over here and hold the paper while I tie the string.”

Shadow obliged. “Why do we have to wrap the tin up in paper anyway? It’s just another cake, albeit a seasonal one.”

“’Cos the recipe says so, that’s why. There we go, all done. Now, I wonder what we could do for the four hours it needs to cook...”

“Let’s go flying!”

“Just what I was thinking! But I get the Firebolt this time.”

“Fine, fine... But it’s my turn when Ron comes round. Should we get Dad to tell Mrs Weasley or surprise them when they come?”

“Surprise them of course! Come on, I’ll race you.”

“You’re on!”

The two boys dashed out of the room without a backward glance, not even noticing the deep chuckle that rang out from behind them.

Severus cancelled the Disillusionment spell and shook his head in amusement. His sons had been so intent on making a complete wreck of his kitchen that they hadn’t even noticed him come back from Diagon Alley. Still, he knew he’d made the right decision by not announcing his presence – watching his boys have so much fun together was a joy in and of itself... Now there’s something he wouldn’t have thought a year ago!

With a few casual flicks of his wand, he Banished the mess they’d left behind, and the monstrosity in the oven. Much as he appreciated the work that went into it, there was no way in hell he’d suffer through that on Christmas day and pretend to enjoy it.

Taking out his own premade cake in its tin from one of the many cupboards, he efficiently wrapped a funnel of brown paper and put it in the oven. Harry would probably work out what had happened once he discovered it didn’t taste awful, but in the meantime he could look forward to seeing their apprehensive faces on Christmas day when each told they had to have a piece of their own creation...

Severus shook his head. Let it never be said that his malicious streak had completely deserted him even though he was now a father. He did have standards to live up to after all. 

A happy yell redirected his attention out the window and a smile found its way onto his face before he even thought to check it. Two sons. And both of them Lily’s. Truly he was the luckiest man in the world.