“Absolutely not!” Severus jumped up angrily from his seat. “I will not take part in what is obviously a pathetic attempt on your part, to force some sort of father and son bonding upon us.”

“Severus,” Albus began pleadingly, only to be ignored by the irate Potions Master.

“Well, I'll have no part of it." Severus turned towards the door, fully intending to storm out of the Headmaster's office.

Severus whirled around angrily when the door slammed shut in his face.

Albus' face was taut with anger, as he pocketed his wand. “You owe it to Harry...to your son, to make an effort to form a relationship with him," he said firmly.

“If and when I decide to form a relationship with my son, it will be on my terms, and in my own time. It is not your place to dictate to me, or to Potter how we are to conduct our relationship,” Severus said through gritted teeth.

Severus was thoroughly sick of the man's interference. How dare Albus imply that he owed Potter anything? It was not his choice that such important information had been denied him. It was not his fault that Lily decided to keep him in the dark about his relationship to the Potter brat. She had made the decision to hide the boy's paternity and pretend that he was James Potter's son. Albus knew all along that Severus was the boy's father, and chose to foster the misconception that the boy belonged to James Potter, therefore as far as Severus was concerned it was Albus' fault that Potter and himself had come to hate each other. The boy was almost fifteen, for goodness sake. How was he supposed to be a father to a boy who would much rather be with his fun-loving Godfather? How could he ever compete with Black? He had already decided not to try. What was the point? Black was the sensitive, caring Godfather who lavished the boy with affection and attention, while Severus was the strict disciplinarian, who was cold, aloof and seemingly incapable of human emotion. The boy would never have chosen Severus Snape to be his father... never in a million years.

Albus studied the man before him with warm, sympathetic eyes. He knew what was going through the reserved man's mind. He thought that he didn't deserve to be a father. Despite his denial to the contrary, Albus knew that the man wanted to be a father to Harry, but didn't know how. Albus knew the depth of Severus' love for Lily and although it had surely been a shock for Severus to learn of Lily's deception, he also knew that it must have also warmed the man's heart to know that Lily had borne him a child; that a part of Lily lived on, in his own son. Albus wasn't fool enough to believe that it didn't make a difference that the child just happened to be Harry Potter, but he also knew that they both desperately needed each other. Sirius cared deeply for Harry, but he was a fugitive, and couldn't give Harry the stability that he needed.

After Albus had inadvertently found about Harry's abusive home life, this summer, Albus had reassessed his decision to hide their relationship. After the previous summer's incident with Harry's aunt, the Durselys had been incensed when he'd returned to their home once again. They thought that they'd been rid of him after he'd run away the previous summer. When they realised that they were expected to continue to house him again this summer, they had taken their ire out on Harry almost the minute he stepped in the door. For some strange reason, Albus had decided to make an impromptu visit to the Dursleys, and discovered much to his fury, that the Dursleys were using Harry as a punching bag, and were denying him food as punishment. He'd been appalled and ashamed to realise that he had not taken the time earlier to investigate Harry's living conditions. He'd removed Harry immediately from their home, and the boy had spent the rest of the summer at Hogwarts.

There were many times where he had come close to telling Severus and Harry of their relationship, but he had always hesitated to do so because of the extreme animosity between the two. As the school year passed, and the end of the year approached, however, Albus realised that he couldn't put off informing Severus of his paternity any longer.

Harry couldn't return to Privet Drive this summer, and after Cedric's death, the ordeal with the Tri Wizard Tournament, and Voldemort's untimely return, Harry needed protection and stability more than ever. It had only been a couple of weeks since he'd informed Harry and Severus of their relationship, and neither was handling it well. Severus seemed to feel that he was not father material, and Harry seemed to agree. If only he could convince the man before him that he could fill the role of protector and guardian to the Boy-Who-Lived, then perhaps he could make amends to both Harry and Severus for the grave errors in judgment that he'd made.

“It is one day Severus...one day,” he repeated. “It will be a chance to show the world that you're dedicated to your son, and give you an opportunity to prove to your son that you're willing to work on your relationship.”

Severus pressed his fingers into his aching temple. “And just how is taking part in some childish contest going to help us with our relationship Albus?”

Albus flashed Severus a look of annoyance. Honestly! The man could never just see the bigger picture.

“I have many activities planned Severus, including a dueling contest, possibly a Quidditch match, several games of skill and a father and son dinner,” he explained patiently, as though to a child. "It will enable you to spend time together, in a pleasant atmosphere, with no external pressures."

Severus rolled his eyes. “As much as it pains me, I'm going to have to refuse to partake in this delightful event, as I have other responsibilities.”

“No other responsibility takes precedent over your son Severus,” Albus bellowed, eyes flashing in anger. It wasn't often that the elderly Headmaster lost his temper, but it was a formidable sight when he did so.

"My private affairs are none of your concern," Severus said with equal ferocity. "I refuse to be coerced into par-"

“You misunderstand me Severus. This is not a request. You will participate in this activity, and you will make an effort to do so for your son," Albus said firmly. "That boy has been through a terrible ordeal; he is still grieving and ridden with guilt over Cedric’s death, and as we have already discussed, his aunt and uncle were found to be extremely abusive and neglectful of the boy. As Black is not in a position to offer support or encouragement to him, he needs someone there for him, and it is your duty-”

Severus stared at him in furious disbelief. “My duty? How dare you preach to me Albus. Were it not for you and your interference, perhaps my son would have grown up with a father, and not have been sent to those abusive relatives to begin with. You've got a hell of a nerve to lay the blame on me.”

Severus retrieved his wand from his pocket, whispered an Alohamora, and the door sprung open instantly. He turned to Albus, his nostrils flaring and lips curling with anger.

“This conversation is over Albus,” he said firmly. “Good Day.” He turned towards the door to leave.

“Lily would want you to do this Severus,” Albus said softly.

Severus stopped abruptly. Even after all these years, her name evoked a wave of powerful emotion within him. He'd let Lily down time and time again and he was about to do so again. Blast Albus for knowing his one true weakness; for using that vulnerability to shame him to do what he should do without question. Albus was right. He had a son; yes, that son was Harry Potter, and it would not be easy to forget all they'd been through; all the animosity that had built up between them for the past several years, but he was also Lily's son. Severus had only to look deeply into those same pools of emerald green, lest he forget. Perhaps it wasn't so much to ask. Maybe he could do this; couldn't he? He'd accomplished many more difficult feats during his lifetime; why on earth did the prospect of fatherhood terrify him so?

“Very well Albus,” Severus agreed reluctantly. “But don't expect me to wear matching father and son shirts or any such nonsense as that!”

Albus chuckled. “No worries on that score, Severus.”

Severus shot a scathing look at the man, and bolted out the door, before the manipulative old coot could convince him into participating in any more of his brilliant schemes.

----

“Harry, Harry!” A shrill voice thrummed in his ear.

“Wh-a-at?” Harry asked grumpily, while both trying to grab the covers back over his shivering body, and attempting to do so, while keeping his heavy, sleep-filled eyes firmly shut. Couldn't a bloke get a bit of sleep without being disturbed?

“Time to wake up mate, or we'll be late,” Ron's whining voice persisted.

Harry opened one eye, only to close it again when assaulted with the harsh morning sunlight filtering in through the narrow tower windows.

“Ugh, let me sleep. I don't want to get up,” Harry complained.

“Hey mate, it's your funeral if you don't get up. First class is Potions. Unless you want me to explain to your dear old Dad that you'd rather stay in bed than attend his class,” he taunted.

Harry shot up in bed and glared at his best friend.

“I thought not,” Ron smirked.

Harry forced his aching limbs out of bed, and reluctantly went to the loo to wash up. Nightmares had once again riddled his sleep and his eyes were blood-shot and gritty from lack of sleep. Even though Madame Pomfrey had, for the most part, healed his injuries from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he still felt exhausted and achy all over. Not to mention that as efficient as the Mediwitch was, she couldn't heal the hurt that was deep inside him. Night after night, Harry relived the horrors he'd endured in the graveyard. Visions of Cedric's death, Wormtail's screams when he had cut off his hand, and Voldemort's horrific, half-human form, taunting and torturing him, haunted his dreams night after night, forcing him to relive the horrors, over and over again.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, and smothering the grief deep inside him, Harry forced himself to move forward, although his mind felt numb. Harry tried to be strong, but he'd had to endure so much trauma in such a short period of time, that he felt as though dredging up the will to go on was an enormous effort. But Harry wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, and he had never let self-pity overwhelm him before, and he wasn't about to start now. So, it was with the true courage of a noble Gryffindor, that he put on a brave face and made his way down to the Great Hall.

Before Harry could make it to the Great Hall, however, a sight greeted him in the main entrance, that would ruin his appetite.

“You have got to be kidding! This has to be a bloody joke.”

“Father and Son Day at Hogwarts?” Ron said incredulously, as his eyes scanned the colourful moving banners and posters suspended in mid-air, in the usual Hogwarts flair.

“I think that I'm going to be sick,” Harry groaned. “This has Dumbledore written all over it.”

Ron looked confused.

“He's trying to push Snape and I together,” Harry elaborated. “He thinks that if he has this stupid contest, that we'll be forced to spend time together, and we'll-" He made a motion as if he were writing quotation marks, "bond as father and son." He made a face as he imitated Dumbledore's cheery voice. "Not bloody likely," Harry said firmly.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Dumbledore's got to be bloody barmey if he imagines that Snape's ever going to agree to this."

Harry sighed in relief. "Yeah, you're right. Snape'll never go for it. Good thinking, Ron."

"Never go for what?" Neville, who spotted Ron and Harry talking animatedly, asked.

"That," Harry pointed to the signs for the contest, with a disgusted look on his face.

Neville's face fell. "Oh," he said in a small voice.

Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances.

Harry put a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Don't feel so bad Neville. Having a father is grossly overrated. Look who I've got for mine!"

Neville shoved Harry's hand off of his shoulder, and rammed his finger angrily at Harry's chest. "You're lucky you have a father."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Neville...It's Snape!"

"I don't care if it's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! You've got a father, and you should stop your griping and belly-aching about it." With one last angry glance at Harry, he stormed off to the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron gawked at Neville's departing figure.

Harry scratched his head. "What the hell was that all about?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

They exchanged befuddled expressions.

Suddenly a shocking notion struck Harry. "You don't think that Neville could be jealous of my relationship with Snape, do you?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "No offence mate, but he'd have to be bloody insane to be jealous of Snape being your father."

"No offence taken." Harry shook his head. "I don't understand though. I think that I'd rather go back to being an orphan, than having Snape as my father," Harry pouted.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, who the hell would want the Greasy Git of the Dungeons as their father!" He tugged on Harry's robes. "C'mon mate, let's go before we miss breakfast."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah that would be the end of the world, wouldn't it?" He chuckled.

"I'm a growing boy," Ron said seriously. "I need my nourishment."

Harry looked up at the tall, lanky red-head and snickered. "If you grow any more Ron, they'll have to cut a hole in Hogwart's ceiling," he teased.

Ron was only a couple of months older than Harry, but he towered over Harry by several inches. Of course, Harry was one of the smallest boys in his year, and his lack of height had always been a bone of contention with him. He wondered if perhaps in the Wizarding World there were a potion that he could take to grow taller. Ironically, it was something that perhaps Snape would know about, but hell would freeze over, before Harry would ever ask him.

Most of the others at the Gryffindor Table were halfway finished eating and gave Ron and Harry a perfunctory look, and returned to their breakfasts. Hermione was alternately eating forkfuls of scrambled eggs, and perusing her Artithmency book.

Ron and Harry rolled their eyes. It would seem that even eating took a back seat to studying for their best friend.

Neville avoided Harry's eyes and hurriedly finished his breakfast, mumbling a few excuses about needing to get something from the Common Room, before classes started.

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to lose Neville as a friend, over something so silly as Snape being his father. It just seemed that these recent revelations were affecting every facet of his life. Now his friendship with Neville was in jeopardy simply because Harry wasn't thrilled to have Snape as his father. It was incomprehensible to Harry that Neville would be jealous over his relationship with Snape, when the boy had always seemed to be terrified of the man.

Ron and Harry continued to contemplate Neville's strange behaviour. Hermione looked up from her book to give them both a disapproving look. She'd been listening to them both gripe about Snape, and speculating over Neville's surprisng behaviour, so of course she had to add her opinion to the mix.

She surveyed Harry from beneath her long lashes. "You know Harry, maybe Neville is not reacting well, because he sees something that you don't."

Harry blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "I mean," she said impatiently, "that you're not giving Snape the benefit of the doubt. You're not giving him a chance. You've written him off before you've even taken the time to find out if he's willing be a father to you. I don't know what Neville's situation is, but he lives with his grandmother for a reason, and we've never seen him with his parents, so perhaps he's an orphan as well. Or at least he still is, because you've got a father now, Harry. It must be very frustrating for Neville to see you throw away a chance at having a father, when he would probably kill for the same chance.

Harry gawked at her. He exchanged a disbelieving look with Ron. "You cannot be serious Hermione. The man's been a bloody berk to me, and you want me to welcome him with open arms?" He shook his head sadly. "I just can't do that. It's just not that easy," he whispered.

"You know Harry, maybe this contest is just the thing-" she began.

Harry groaned. "Not you too.”

"Harry, you are cutting off your nose to spite your face. Maybe if you give Snape a chance, you might just find something that you've been missing your whole life," she said pleadingly.

Harry just couldn't understand it. First Neville, now Hermione. Was he missing something here? Why was everyone trying to push him and Snape together? Had they not witnessed the ill treatment that the man had dished out for the past few years? Was it not Neville who was turned to a shivering puddle of goo every time Snape berated and insulted him? Harry shook his head. At least he could count on Ron to hate Snape as much as he did. Why couldn't it have been Sirius who was his father? Harry wished with all his heart that Sirius could be here right now, and participate in the father and son contest with him. It wasn't fair, he thought with a pang of regret, that he had never had the time to get to know the man.

--

Harry trudged up to Dumbledore's office with trepidation. At the end of dinner, Harry had been summoned to visit with the elderly wizard, and Harry had a feeling he knew what the headmaster wanted.

When Harry entered, Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon spectacles and pointed to a comfortable looking chair before his desk.

"Ah...Harry--have a seat." he said graciously. He folded his long fingers before him. "How have you been my boy?”

Harry always felt as though Dumbledore could see right through him with his piercing blue eyes.

He shrugged. “I'm fine sir,” he replied politely.

Dumbledore looked relieved. “Good, I'm glad to hear that.” He looked regretful. “I know that it has not been easy for you, in light of recent events.”

Harry lowered his eyes. He really didn't want to talk about Cediric, or Voldemort, and especially not about his relationship with Snape.

“Just know Harry that when you're ready, and if you feel the need, the door is always open,” Dumbledore said gently.

Harry lifted his eyes in surprise. He was grateful that Dumbledore was not going to push him to talk about his feelings. He really despised when adults thought you should spill your guts at the drop of a hat. Just because he was a kid, didn't mean that he shouldn’t be allowed his privacy, did it?

“Now, down to the reason I've requested your presence,” Dumbledore started hesitatingly. He knew that Harry would be resistant to his plans, just as Severus had been, but as in Severus' case, he knew that Harry needed a push in the right direction. They both might resent his interference now, but he was certain that they would both come to appreciate his efforts down the road.

Harry looked at him suspiciously.

“I'm sure that you're aware by now that Hogwarts is hosting its first Father and Son Day,” he began cautiously.

Pretty hard to miss the colourful posters, banners and not to mention the school was abuzz with the news, Harry thought acerbically.

“Yes sir,” he said out loud.

Dumbledore studied Harry's pale face. The boy looked like he hadn't slept properly in weeks. Dark shadows smudged his pale features;the boy' s face was gaunt and his clothes were hanging off of his thin frame, suggesting that Harry hadn't been eating properly either. Something drastic had to be done immediately, Albus thought to himself, before the boy faded away to nothing. It wouldn't do to let Harry continue on as he had been. No, Harry needed someone there for him; someone to pick up the peices. Someone to offer him support and guidance. Harry needed a family. And so did Severus. Yes...it would be like fighting tooth and nail to get these two boys to see each other as father and son, but the outcome would certainly be worth the fight.

Dumbledore pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I'd like for you and Professor Snape to participate.”

“No offence sir, but I'd really rather not.” Harry noticed Dumbledore's crumpled expression, and felt guilty. He knew the man was only trying to do what he thought best for him.

“I'm sure that Snape doesn't want to pariticipate any more than I do sir,” Harry said more bitterly than he had intended.

“That's where you're wrong Harry.”

Harry's eyes crinkled in confusion. “Sir?”

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischeviously. "You see Harry--Professor Snape has already agreed."

Harry's jaw dropped. He must have misunderstood. Surely Dumbledore was not saying that Snape had actually gone along with this preposterous idea?

"Uh sir...I appreciate the thought, but-"

"Oh anytime, Harry," the Headmaster said in a jovial tone. He stood up, came around and gently put his arms around Harry's shoulders, lifting him up at the same time and steering him towards the exit.

"But sir, I-"

"Oh, no need to thank me Harry," Dumbledore said as he gently pushed the boy out the door.

Harry huffed in frustration. "Sir, I really don't-"

"Well, best be getting back to class. I'm sure that your father will be in touch to discuss the details." Dumbledore said as he closed the door on Harry.

Harry stared at the door, scratching his head.

What had just happened in there? Harry couldn't help the small smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. Yes, Dumbledore had completely bent him to his will. Yes, Harry thought, he'd been thoroughly manipulated by the master manipulator, himself. Surprisingly enough though, this realisation elicited a warm feeling. Harry knew that Dumbledore just wanted him to be happy. Remembering Dumbledore's reaction when dealing with his aunt and uncle, Harry shivered again at how his uncle had been reduced to a blubbering fool when confronted with Dumbledore's wrath. Harry was certain that this whole Father and Son idea was born out of tremendous guilt for the way that Harry had been treated at the Dursleys. Dumbledore wanted him and Snape to grow closer so that Harry would have someone; someone he could call family.

As the date drew closer, Harry's jangled nerves crescendoed and he wished that he could halt time because he really wasn't looking forward to this whole Father and Son Day. Granted, Snape had been making an effort to spend time with him, to train him and develop some sort of strategy for the first competition, which was a duelling contest. Yes, Snape was really a very caring, and sensitive man, who between snapping at him to get his bloody head out of his arse and pay attention to his wand movements, from: “Where the hell were you when they were handing out brains boy?”, to “A newt has a higher IQ than you!”, the man was positively dripping with sensitivity and patience. It was such a joy to be spending time bonding with his dear old dad.

Yes... spending every waking moment with a man whose tongue was sharper than a whip and whose gruelling training regiment of insisting Harry wake at five o'clock every morning, run twenty laps around the castle, do one hundred situps, pushups and twisted and turned his limbs like a pretzel till they obeyed his every command. Yes it was pure joy flopping into bed each evening feeling as though someone had turned him inside out.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked concernedly. He'd barely seen his friend at all lately. Snape allowed Harry very little free time outside of his training, and when he wasn't training, Snape insisted that Harry keep up with his schoolwork.

"Yeah, just kind of sore," Harry reassured him. "I thought this whole Father and Son Day was supposed to be fun," Harry complained. "Snape treats it like we're in the bloody army."

Ron chuckled. "Well, better you than me, Harry.” Ron ducked a pillow. "Night mate."

"Night Ron," Harry said sleepily before he fell into an exhausted slumber.

----

The next day in Potions class, Harry and Ron took the first available seats, as they rushed in just as the bell was ringing. Unfortunately, they were seated next to Malfoy and Pansy.

Hermione, who, of course had arrived well in advance of the bell ringing, signaling the beginning of class, gave them a disapproving look, and shook her head.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape barked out.

The Slytherins, and especially Malfoy, jeered at him.

Harry glared at Snape. What a git. They weren't even technically late, he thought angrily. The bell had only just rang. He slammed his bag on the desk.

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry warningly. Even though he thought that they'd been getting along better than usual, Snape noticed that Harry was apt to show off and act defiantly in front of his friends, particularly Weasley. Severus found that the boy seemed more receptive to his efforts at a relationship when his friends weren't around to impress.

"Psst...Potter," Draco whispered at Harry when Snape's back was turned.

Harry scowled. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I heard a rumour that you and Snape are planning on competing in the father and son duelling contest." He said this as though the idea was presposterous.

"Yeah...so?"

"So, you're wasting your time, that's all." Draco leant in a little closer. "You have no chance in winning because my father and I are participating as well," he said with a sneer, "and we're going to kick your arse, Potter."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Scared Potter?" Malfoy asked in the same superior tone that he had used in second year when he had asked Hary the same question.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah I'm just quivering with fear," he said sarcastically.

"My father has been training me Potter, and since he's an expert in duelling, you and Snape are going to look like fools." He put on a really irritating fake laugh . "Aw, but I forgot, it's not an act...you really are fools!"

Harry felt his blood boil. Images of Lucius in the Graveyard infiltrated his mind. Of his cruelty and support of a monster who could so ruthlessly kill an innocent boy.

He wasn't quite sure what possessed him, but he couldn't stop himself from retorting, "Yeah well, my father has been training me too Malfoy, and he's ten times the dueller that your Death Eater father is, and if anyone is going to look like a fool, it's you and your father."

With a malicious smile on his face, Malfoy said, "Death Eater father? That's rich. That's like the pot calling the cauldron black. Trust me, Potter, Snape could teach my father a thing or two about being a Death Eater. Why don't you ask him yourself."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. "What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy? If you've got something to say, why don't you just say it," he said angrily.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," a silky voice said behind them, making both boys jump, "if you've got something to say, why don't you say it."

Malfoy's face blanched. "Uh...no sir, I've got nothing to say," he stammered.

"I thought not."

"Fifteen points from Slytherin," Snape announced. Oh, how it broke his heart to take points from his own house, but he could not allow Draco to spread rumours; albeit ones that were founded in truth. It made him rather nervous that Draco was hinting at his past. What exactly had Lucius told the boy?

Harry's jaw dropped, as did Draco's. Snape had actually taken points from Slytherin. Harry had never thought that he'd see the day. Before he could gloat, however, Snape ruined his allusions that he would escape punishment.

Snape gave his son a stern glare. "And fifteen points from Gryffindor. And-" He gave both boys a hard look. "-unless both of you would like to spend this evening scrubbing cauldrons, then I suggest you refrain from disturbing my class again with your idle chit-chat. Is that clear, boys?"

Harry looked mutinously at his father. and mumbled, "Yes sir."

"Yes sir," Draco replied grudgingly.

Snape's cold eyes swept over them both once more, and satisfied that the message had been understood, moved on to write the instructions for a complex potion, on the chalkboard.

----

Harry felt quite bad about Neville's situation until he had a brain-storm. The other boy had been avoiding Harry at every turn. When Harry appeared in the Great Hall for a meal, Neville would either abandon his meal altogether, or shove the food in his mouth, make an excuse and flee the Great Hall as quickly as he could.

Upon contemplating the problem and how to repair their friendship, Harry knew that the only way to make things right was to find Neville someone that could fill the role of father to Neville, even if it was only for one day.

The answer came to Harry one day, when, on his way to speak with Dumbledore, he ran into an old friend, literally. Harry wasn't paying attention to where he was going, until he came in contact with a solid object. He was nearly knocked on his arse, until two strong arms steadied him.

“Remus!” Harry exlaimed in delight.

Remus' warm brown eyes crinkled as he smiled at Harry. “Harry, how are you doing?”

“What are you doing here? I thought- uh, you know, that you couldn't be here because of, uh-” Harry stopped awkwardly.

“Yes well, thanks to Sna-uh, your father's improved Wolfsbane Potion, which allows me to stay coherant for much longer, I've been given approval by the Ministry teach on a part-time basis. If things go well, and I can prove that my lycanthropy poses no danger to the student population, well then, possibly next year, I might be considered to assume the post of Defence once more.”

Harry thought to himself that once Snape found out that his improved Potion was actually responsible for Remus' return to Hogwarts, he would be quite pissed off at himself and regret having made an improved formulation. Rather ironic, wasn't it?

Harry shifted uncomfortably under Remus' gaze, as if the man could read his mind.

“So, how are you holding up?” Remus asked kindly. He knew that the boy must be reeling from all the recent changes in his life.

Harry lowered his eyes. “I'm fine, I guess, but you know it's kind of weird, having Snape, for a, uh-father.”

Remus actually chuckled at that, which put Harry at ease. “Yeah, I guess that it would be.” He put his arms around Harry's shoulders, and gently guided him towards Dumbledore's office.

Harry actually left Dumbledore' office feeling quite satisfied, for once. Remus had agreed to act as a surrogate father to Neville for Father and Son Day, Dumbledore had agreed it was a splendid idea, and Harry hoped that Neville would think it was a brilliant idea as well..

----

As Father and Son Day approached, Harry found himself dreading the day more and more. His stomach was in a constant tumultuous state.

Harry and Severus walked into the Great Hall together that morning. The tables were arranged for the Father and Son Breakfast. An earlier breakfast had been served for those students who were not participating in the event.

The first event of the day was the duelling contest, followed by a Father and Son Quidditch Match.

“Well, well, well Severus,” Lucius drawled. “So I guess what I've heard is true. You're playing father to the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “I'm not playing father. I would say that's yourrole, Lucius.

Lucius' eyes flashed dangerously, and he whipped out his wand. Before he could utter a word however, Severus had his wand out as well.

“How about we wait till the contest begins, gentlemen,” an amused voice said from behind them.

“Now shall we lower our wands gentlemen. This is not the message you want to send to your young sons, now is it?” Dumbledore asked, hardening his voice considerably.

Severus had the grace to look ashamed, and pocketed his wand. Lucius, however, resently lowered his wand, before reluctantly placing it in his robes pocket.

“Please take your seats gentlemen, Breakfast is about to be served,” Dumbledore said giving Lucius a pointed look.

Lucius sneered at Harry and Severus. “Come Draco, there will be plenty of time to show these two who are superior.”

Harry clamped his lips shut, and kept his arms rigidly by his side. He itched to take out his wand and hex Malfoy and his father; the hell with waiting for the contest.

Harry and Severus took their places next to Arthur and Ron, and Neville and Remus.

Severus again cursed the Headmaster for co-ercing him into participating in this ridiculous contest, as he was forced to exchange pleasantries with Arthur and Lupin.

Harry had mixed feelings about the whole affair. On one hand, he had originally bucked against being forced into the contest, as he really had no desire to spend time with Snape. Harry had to admit though, that the time spent with his father, had not been such a horrible experience after all. Yes, the man's acerbic tongue could cut like a knife at times, and he wasn't the sort of man to sugar-coat the truth, but Harry found the man to be incredibly gifted at Defence and Harry wasn't lying when he boasted to Malfoy that Snape was an expert duellest, and Harry had found that the books that Snape had set him to read and the spells that he had been forced to learn had been fascinating.

Okay, so Snape's bedside manner, left much to be desired, but Harry had to admit grudgingly that he had begun to respect the man. And incredibily, Snape had a sense of humour, if one took the time to understand it. Yes, it was a rather dry, sarcastic humour, hidden in subtle nuances, but Harry had spent so much time with Snape that he'd begun to recognize it.

“Gentlemen,” Dumbledore's booming voice resounded throughout the Great Hall, silencing the chattering fathers and sons. “Welcome to Hogwarts first Father and Son Day. I want to thank all of you for taking the time to participate. The bond between father and son is a very special one,” Dumbledore began. “Whether you have known each other all your life-” His eyes scanned over Ron and Arthur, and Lucius and Draco, “-or have recently discovered each other.” He paused, sending a meaningful look at Harry and Severus. “Whether you are father and son in the biological sense, or -” His eyes twinkled as he looked at Remus and Neville, “or two people who've developed a special bond, my goal this day is to offer you each a chance to spend time together and interact with each other father and sons, and have a little friendly competition.”

Harry looked over to the next table, and wanted to vomit when he saw the arrogant determination on Lucius and Draco's face. Harry couldn't help the rush of fury and indignation either when he saw Crabbe, Goyle and Nott sitting there as though it was a tea party, but all Harry could see was those garish faces behind their Death Eater masks, and those cold, cruel eyes watching as he was being mercilessly tortured by Voldemort.

Dumbledore interrupted his reverie. “Well I bid you all a good day, and I ask you all to keep in mind the friendly spirit of the competition.”

----

Harry and Snape stood on one end of the platform, and Draco and Lucius on the other.

“Gentlemen, Let me remind you of the rules. We don't want any serious injuries here, so Unforgiveables are forbidden, and you will all be expected to follow the rules of accepted good sportsmanship, and decorum.” He gave an extra stern look to Lucius and Draco. “Cheating will not be tolerated.”

“First up will be Harry Potter and Severus Snape competing against Lucius and Draco Malfoy."

Harry took a peek at Snape, and couldn't read the blank expression, but suddenly he nodded to Harry and some of the nervous tension that Harry was feeling relaxed somewhat.

Harry realised that although Snape was not overtly affectionate or expressive, he nevertheless felt comforted by the man's strong presence, and Harry was very surprised by this. He had never thought of Snape as a man who could offer comfort.

“Gentlemen, wands at the ready, and take a bow,” Dumbledore interrupted his reverie.

Well...it's now or never, Harry thought nervously, as his stomach churned anxiously. Harry wasn't sure why a duel against the Malfoys could evoke such strong emotion when he'd fought the Dark Lord with less trepidation, but perhaps it as because Snape was beside him this time and he wanted to make the man proud. Harry suddenly realised the irony of it all. He wanted to make Snape proud. The same git who'd made his life miserable for the past three and a half years. Now he wanted the man's approval? Life was strange sometimes.

Draco threw the first hex before Harry had a chance to catch his breath, but fortunately for Harry, he'd had enough experience in defending himself under the most dire circumstances, that he deflected the Bat Bogey Hex, without batting an eyelid. Harry felt a rush of warmth when Snape nodded his head at him.

Before Harry had a chance to appreciate the support however, another curse came hurtling towards him. And this one he was not quite so lucky as to deflect. Harry legs suddenly felt like jello as they caved beneath him. Aw crap, he thought. His face flamed; he couldn't believe that he'd allowed himself to be hit with a jelly-legs curse.

Draco smirked at him. “Not so confident now, are we, Potter?”

Before Draco could gloat, however, Harry yelled out with a swish of his wand, “Recumptsemptra”, and Draco dropped to the floor, convulsing with laughter, and tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

It was Harry's turn to smirk at Draco. “What were you saying?”

“Pu-lee-ee-ze Po-po-tt-ter,” make it stopped the blond boy begged.

“Only if you cancel this,” Harry said as he poked at his rubber-like leg.

Draco clutched at his stomach, which was beginning to ache as he writhed and jerked on the duelling platform.

“F-fi-fine,” he spurt out between rolls of laughter. He flicked his wand jerkily, and stuttered a, “Fininte incantatum.”

When the bones in his legs grew solid once more, Harry whispered the counter spell as well, and Malfoy wiped the tears from his flushed face with the sleeve of his arm.

Before Harry had a chance to recover his equilibrium, Malfoy yelled an Expelliarmus, and knocked Harry's wand from his hand. Harry searched for his wand while trying to duck the steady stream of curses that Malfoy was sending his way.

Damn, there it is, thought Harry. It was right behind Snape who was busy dodging his own spells from Lucius. Harry was a bit disoncerted to realise that they were pretty evenly matched, although he still had faith that Snape would prevail. Just as Harry went to grab for his wand, however, two things happened at once. Snape jerked backwards to avoid a bolt of red light coming from the elder Malfoy's wand, tripped backwards onto Harry as he was grappling for his wand, which was right behind Snape's boot by this point. As Snape fell backwards onto Harry, he felt the air squeezed out of him like an accordian.

Harry must have passed out for a few seconds, because when he reopened his eyes, he and Snape were tied together with long silver ropes, and both Malfoys were standing over them, arms crossed, with twin smirks on their faces.

“Well, it would seem that we have our winners,” Dumbledore announced cheerily.

He held out a hand to Lucius, who snubbed him, and said haughtily, “There was no competition afterall.”

“Yes, how disappointing Father,” Draco drawled.

Harry huffed in frustration. Snape glared at him, as if to say, this is all your fault.

It was so humiliating to sit there hog-tied, while Lucius and Draco received their medals, and sauntered off to hob-nob with the other Death Eaters, looking back at Harry and Severus with gloating smiles. Suddenly, Harry panicked. Hey! What the hell? Wasn't anyone going to untie them?

Luckily Dumbledore took pity on them and removed the ropes.

Severus picked himself up on the ground, and immediately rounded on Harry.

“What the hell were you thinking, you idiot-boy?” he bellowed so loudly that his voice resounded throughout the Great Hall. Everyone turned to look at them.

Harry flushed in embarassment. “I'm sorry, I-”

“You're sorry?” Snape asked incredulously. “Why the hell did you throw yourself in back of me like that, you imbecile.”

Harry bristled at the insult. It was like the hands of time had been turned back, and Snape had turned back into the slimy git of the dungeons again.

Harry clenched his fists. “Draco knocked my wand out of my hand, I was trying to get it back,” he explained angrily.

Snape arched an eyebrow. “So you threw yourself in back of me. Where the hell is your brain boy? You've cost us the contest by your utter stupidity!”

Harry had had enough. “Go to hell, Snape. You can shove your damned contest up your arse, for all I care. I quit!” Harry stomped off towards the Tower, intending to get as far away as possible from his father.

Severus flinched under the disapproving look that Albus sent his way.

“Don't look at me that way Albus,” Severus said in exasperation.

Albus narrowed his eyes. “I didn't say a word, Severus. Perhaps it is your own conscience that speaks to you,” he said knowingly.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Of course it is Albus.”

----

As he entered the Gryffindor Common Room, Severus shuddered at the Gryffindor colours that assaulted his senses. Trust him to end up with a son who was Gryffindor!

Severus heard sniffling behind the maroon curtains of the four-poster bed in front of him. He took a deep breath and slowly pulled the curtains back to reveal Harry lying with his back to Severus, his fragile frame trembling. Severus gently turned him over. Harry's face was wet with tears. Severus pulled out a handerkerchief from his robes pocket. He handed it to Harry.

Harry threw it back at him, and wiped his snotty nose with his sleeve. Severus grimaced.

“Harry,” he murmered softly.

Harry looked up at him through watery eyes. “What do you want?” he muttered.

Severus took a deep breath. He really wasn't good at this sort of thing. He didn't know how to apologise. Frankly, he wasn't accustomed to admitting he was wrong. Actually, he very rarely was wrong, he thought arrogantly.

Severus cleared his throat. “I'm so-so-sorry,” he finally spit out.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. Snape was admitting he was wrong? Snape was saying that he was sorry? Harry had the urge to take a peek outside to see if there were any pigs flying around.

“I realise that I may have been a little over zealous, and over-reacted somewhat,” Severus admitted grudgingly.

Harry raised his eyebrows as if to say You think?

“Harry, what I'm trying to say is that perhaps I took this contest a little too seriously, and lost sight of what is really important,” Severus said slowly.

“And what is really important?” Harry asked in a small voice, afraid, yet hopeful to hear the answer.

Oh Merlin, this was harder than Severus had imagined. He took a deep breath. “No one is more important to me than you are Harry.”

Harry's jaw dropped.

“I regret my earlier outburst, and if you will forgive me (Oh there was that word again), I would be honoured if you would return downstairs with me.”

Severus smirked. “After all, we still have an opportunity to put Lucius and Draco in their place. If I do recall,” he put his finger to his temple, “ there are still several competitions left today, including a father and son Quidditch match.”

Harry quirked his lips. “You play Quidditch?”

“I'll have you know that I was no slouch on the Quidditch pitch, young man,” he said in mock sternness.

“Really?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “What position did you play?

Severus smirked. “I was a pretty mean seeker in my day.”

Harry's eye grew wide. “You were a seeker too?” Harry shook his head. He'd always thought that he had inherited his Quidditch talent from James, and then when he had discovered his true parentage, he had wondered just where his interest in Quidditch had come from. Harry had suffered a great identity crisis since he had found out that Snape was his father. He'd felt lost, as if he didn't feel like he'd known who he was anymore. At Snape's words though, he felt a sudden sense of belonging and soothed at the thought that he'd inherited his love of Quidditch from Snape.

On the other hand, he also liked the thought that his adopted father who had laid his life down for him, had also loved the game. Harry felt incredibly fortunate that he had so many people in his life that cared about him. Sirius had taken the news that he was Snape's son hard at first, but he had made it very clear that he cared about Harry for who he was and not about whose son he was. And although Harry knew that Snape and Sirius would never be friends, and probably neither would forgive the other, he hoped that one day, that two of the most important people that he cared about, could possibly at least tolerate each other, if nothing else.

Harry still felt a stab of disappointment that he had not been allowed to get to know Sirius better, and that he'd had to go back to the Dursleys, even for a short time, but the revelation of finding out that Snape was his father, had turned out better than Harry had ever imagined. The man may be prickley and cold at times, but Harry was glad that he'd given Snape a chance, and taken the time to get to know the man beneath the hard exterior, because now Harry had a father, had a family.

“Well, I actually played several positions, but I was most proficient as seeker, and to be honest, it was my preferred position,” he admitted.

“So,” Harry said playfully, “We're gonna kick the Malfoy's arses?”

“Language!” Severus reprimanded.

Despite Snape's sudden return to sternness, Harry couldn't help but smile. He felt like everything was right with the world. He had a father; okay, so a father who could be a right git at times, but still...he had a father!

Severus patted Harry’s leg. “Enough wallowing in self-pity, Potter; we have a Quidditch game to win. Go wash up, and meet me downstairs.” He pulled out his stopwatch. “You have exactly fifteen minutes, or I will come back and levitate you downstairs,” he said with a small smirk.

Harry, having no doubt that his father would follow through on his threat, immediately jumped off the bed, replying: “Yes sir.”

Despite it being a rather cold, windy day, Harry couldn't help the familiar flutter of excitement in his stomach at the thought of mounting his broom and taking to the sky. In all honesty, Harry didn't even really care anymore if Draco and his father beat them again; all Harry cared about was knowing that his father would be by his side and he would be doing something that he loved doing. The exhiliaration of the wind whipping through his hair, the feeling that he could touch the sky; no there was no other place that Harry would rather be. He felt as though he was born on a broom. Knowing that Snape also loved Quidditch gave Harry a warm glow. All in all, Harry was beginning to appreciate Dumbledore's interference.

“Harry,” Ron greeted him with a toothy grin. Mr. Weasley came up behind him putting an arm around Ron's shoulders.

Harry grinned back. “Hey Ron...Mr. Weasley.”

Ron's freckled cheeks were rosy with the brisk air, and his eyes lit up with happiness and excitement. Harry was happy that Mr. Weasley had devoted the day mostly to Ron, even though he had two other sons in attendance at Hogwarts. Fred and George had expressed no interest in participating in the event and had preferred to remain on the sidelines, to support their father and brother. Of course, the twins were not above pulling a few pranks upon unsuspecting victims.

Draco had arrived at lunch, and couldn't understand just why he was attracting so much attention. To his annoyance, even his Slytherin mates were pointing and snickering at him. Draco glared at them as he went to take his seat and jumped up in panic when he discovered, much to his dismay, as he plonked his bottom on the hard seat, that he acquired an extra body part.

Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice, when Malfoy started spinning around in circles, trying to catch his tail...literally.

“Father, do something.” Draco whined.

“If I catch the hooligans responsible, they will be expelled,” Lucius threatened furiously.

Harry could swear though, that he had seen the corners of Lucius' mouth lift.

Fred and George winked at Harry conspiratoraly.

Although Lucius had been able to get rid of Draco's tail, the boy had fled the Great Hall in shame, and had kept a low profile the rest of the day.

Serves the prat right, Harry had thought. He and his father had been insufferable after their win in the duelling competition. They had bragged endlessly about how they had kicked Harry and Severus' butts, and how they would do so in the Father and Son Quidditch game as well.

Well, here they were, about to enter the Quidditch pitch, and Harry peeked a glance at his father.

The man looked rather pale, well, paler than usual, Harry worried. Snape had admitted, that other than refereeing a few Quidditch matches at Hogwarts throughout the years, he had not had much opportunity for flying.

Admittedly, he and Harry had focused mainly on their duelling skills, and had not thought to hone Severus' Quidditch skills. Oh well, Harry thought, he really didn't care anymore. He was just happy to have his father by his side and be doing something together.

Harry, of course would be playing seeker, as he was the smallest and was the most experienced at the position. Draco was a seeker for the other team as well. Severus, Remus and Arthur would be chasers for Harry's team, and Lucius, the elder Crabbe and Goyle for the other team. Since Neville was not skillfull on a broom, they put him as Goal Keeper (Merlin Forbid), and Ron Beater alongside Fred, who agreed to play. Crabble and Goyle junior would play Beater for the other side.

--

The whistle signalling the start of the game sounded and the players kicked off the ground. Harry, immediately began looking for the snitch. Of course, so did Malfoy. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw something glitter, but when he zoomed off after it, it disappeared into thin air. Harry shook his head. Where the hell did the Snitch go? Out of the corner of his eye, he thought that he saw the snitch again, but once more it disappeared when he took off after it.

"Potter!"

Harry zipped around and saw Malfoy smirking at him.

"A little confused Potter? Are you seeing double, or even triple?" He mocked.

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Slytherin, who hovered on his broom, with a cocky look on his face.

"What did you do Malfoy?"

Draco laughed. "Oh, let's just say two Snitches are better than one. The challenge will be for you to figure out which is the real one, Potter or should I say Snape now?"

Harry clenched his teeth. "That's cheating Malfoy. I'm going to report you."

"Ha! Prove it Potter," he taunted.

Harry growled in frustration. He realised that even if he were to report Malfoy, he couldn't prove anything. The minute that Harry saw the Snitch, it disappeared into thin air.

Although Harry had not thought that he cared whether they won or not, now he was determined to win, just to put the cheating prat in his place.

Harry decided that the best way to determine which was the real Snitch was to stick to Malfoy like glue.

Of course that was easier said than done. The Slytherin had already figured what Harry was doing, and attempted to fool him with the Wronski Feint. Harry wasn't stupid though, it didn't take him long to figure out what Malfoy was trying to do.

The challenge though was how to determine which Snitch was the authentic one. Harry decided to take his time and examine each one to see if there was a pattern to their behaviour or a distinguishing pattern to the fake Snitches as opposed to the real one. Harry wondered if maybe Malfoy had spelled the original Snitch to clone itself, or were they simply phantom snitches, like a mirage.

Dammit, Harry thought, he had to catch the real Snitch, and fast, because it looked as though his teammates were having a rough time of it.

Severus was dodging bludgers thrown simultaneously, by Crabbe and Goyle junior. He made a mental note to himself to invent a reason to give the two of them, detentions till they graduated. Yes, something that would make their insides squirm. Scrubbing cauldrons were too good for the traitors, Severus decided. Hmm...something involving very large cockroaches, spiders and enormous rats with long, thin, slimy tails. He was going to make those two regret tyring to-(Severus ducked quickly to avoid the bludger speeding towards his head) -decapitate their Head of House.

Severus felt his hair stand on end as the Bludger missed making contact with his head, by a fraction of an inch.

In the meantime, Arthur was having problems of his own racing with Lucius, neck in neck for the Quaffle. The blond, of course, wasn't above playing dirty and, accidently, on purpose, bumping into Arthur, almost knocking him off of his broom. It was only a combination of quick-thinking and skill that prevented Arthur from falling off his broom. Lucius' features contorted to fury when he realised that his attempts to unsettle Arthur had failed.

Arthur glared at Lucius and with a burst of speed, sped off after the Quaffle. Lucius had another trick up his sleeve though, and Arthur caught sight of a flash of light before his broom suddenly began to jerk upwards and downwards, attempting to unseat him. Arthur clutched the broom tighter and held on for dear life. Lucius smirked at him and inconspiciously slipped his wand back into his pocket.

Before Lucius could gloat, however, Ron and Fred who had witnessed Lucius' sabotage of their father's broom, decided to exact a little revenge, and hurled a couple of bludgers at the sneering Slytherin. Arthur choked back a laugh when Lucius tried to thwart the attack, by dropping altitude quickly and while gravity made his body plunge downwards, the long strands of his pale hair, which caught the sunlight, stood on end, framing his head like a glittering halo.

Arthur gave a thumbs-up to his sons, and made a vow to generously reward them for their timely intervention.

It was Arthur's turn to smirk at the now, white-faced, tight-lipped man. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Lucius to recover, and by the look on the man's face, Arthur knew that Lucius was out for blood now.

Harry smirked at Draco's face when the Slytherin realised that Harry was following his every move like a shadow. It was obvious that the boy hadn't considered that Harry might do this, and spoil his own efforts to catch the Snitch.

Harry was frustrated though, because it seemed like Malfoy was sending him on a wild goose chase, and he really needed to catch the Snitch quickly, because despite Severus and Arthur's valiant efforts to gain control of the Quaffle, the elder Crabbe and Goyle were passing it back and forth like a hot potato, and finally with a smooth arm movement, Goyle tossed it effortlessly in the hoop.

The Slytherin section of the stands erupted in cheers. If Harry hadn't been suspended on a broom a few hundred feet in the air, he would have stomped his foot in frustration.

For a moment, Harry imagined he saw a flutter of wings peeking out a cluster of wispy clouds to the right, but he shrugged it off as wishful-thinking, until it bobbed down, and fluttered off to hide amongst the clouds once more.

Harry hovered for a few moments, undecided how to proceed. Malfoy turned his head back to stare at Harry, but didn't seem to notice the Snitch. Harry's stomach churned with anxiety. Could it be the real Snitch? Is it possible that Malfoy himself could have lost track of the original Snitch, or was his mind playing tricks on him again.

Harry saw another movement a few feet ahead, and saw another Snitch. Damn, Harry thought. Which is the real one? Harry agonized over it for a few more minutes, but finally decided that the one he'd seen hiding behind the clouds, was the real Snitch, but he couldn't let on to Malfoy that he had spotted the real Snitch. Harry took a gulp of cold air, and took off in the direction of the fake Snitch. Malfoy smirked at Harry, as he sped past Harry in a burst of power.

Harry waited till the Slytherin was a good few yards ahead and backtracked to where he thought he had seen the authentic Snitch. He felt a little breathless as he gained altitude and the bright sun shone through the clouds, making his eyes tear. Harry heard a flapping noise, turned his broom around abrubtly, and saw the elusive Snitch. Harry made a grab for it, but all he got for his efforts, was a fistful of air. It was as if the Snitch was mocking him--taunting him. Finally, after several fruitless efforts, Harry managed to grab hold of one of the wings and yanked it out of the air. Harry sat for a moment, not quite believing that he had finally succeeded in capturing the golden Snitch.

Harry's stomach fluttered in excitement. He did it! He turned the tables on Malfoy. Wait till the gloating prat realised that his little plan had backfired on him!

Harry descended to playing level, with one hand on his broom, and the other tightly grasping his treasured prize.

The excitement of the crowd grew when they realised that Harry had ended the game.

Lee Jordan's voice echoed through the Quidditch Pitch.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Harry Potter catches the Snitch, winning the game for Gryffindor!"

Severus groaned. How the hell did he manage to not only end up with the ultimate mascot for Gryffindor as a son, but end up playing Quidditch for his rival House against his own, of which he was the Head, defeat them soundly, and actually be happy about it? What was happening to him?

Severus wasn't quite sure what emotion he was experiencing when he glanced over at his son, but when their eyes met, Severus felt an overwhelming desire to pat the boy on the back and say, Well done. Severus shook his head. Is it possible that this overwhelming swelling in his chest, was pride?

Harry's grin widened when his father nodded, and awarded him a small smile. There were many who congratulated Harry, but he desired the approval of only one.

It was priceless when Draco first realised that not only had Harry found the real Snitch, but had managed to fool Draco into chasing after a mirage.

Draco stamped his foot in frustration.

"I demand that the Snitch be examined to see if it is authentic. I bet it's the fake one-"

Severus looked questioningly at Harry.

Harry sent him a silent message that he would explain it all later.

The two referees narrowed their eyes suspiciously at Draco. "What exactly do you mean Mr. Malfoy? Why would the Snitch be a fake?"

Draco blanched as he realised his mistake and tried to recover.

"Uh, well, I didn't mean, uh, that is, I-" he stammered.

Luckily for Draco, the referees decided to chalk his bad behaviour up to poor Sportmanship and turned their attentions back to Harry, and his teammates.

Harry and Severus battled their way through the throngs of admirers, in search of solitude.

Harry fingered the shiny medal hanging around his neck. This was more than just an award for winning a Quidditch game, Harry suddenly realised. It was a symbol of the progress that he'd made in his relationship with his father, and the understanding that they'd developed in the short time since Dumbledore had cornered them into participating in this whole Father and Son Day. It was also a tribute to the hard work that they'd both invested in their difficult relationship. While Harry knew that being Severus Snape's son wouldn't be easy, he also knew that there would be many rewards for both of them as well.

A whiny voice broke into Harry's thoughts. "But father, it's not my fault. It's Potter, he's got a bloody horseshoe up his arse," he complained while trying to bat his father's hand away from where it was tightly gripping his ear."

Harry's jaw dropped. He had always thought that Lucius spoiled Draco rotten, and he was shocked to see that the man not only dragged Malfoy along by his ear, but reprimanded him quite soundly for causing them to lose the match, as well.

Harry felt a twinge of pity for the boy...up until the comment about the horseshoe, whereby Harry stifled the desire to shove said horseshoe up Draco's arse!

Harry felt his heart lift a little when he saw the corners of Severus' lips quirk as he surveyed the scene between Draco and Lucius.

If truth be told, Harry had been a little worried that Severus might continue to favour Draco and his Slytherins over him, despite their newfound relationship. Harry didn't expect favourtism himself, but he couldn't bear it if his father allowed Draco to get away with murder, while Harry was treated cruelly, as in the past. Harry just wanted all students to be treated equally. Harry had no illusions, however, that his father would suddenly change into the perfect father, or the perfect teacher, but they were definitlely making a little progress.

As they made their way back into the castle, Harry looked up at his father.

"Uh...sir, I think I'd like to go wash up." Harry looked down at his sweaty clothes.

Severus nodded. "I'd like to freshen up as well. We'll meet in the Great Hall for Dinner, in let's say...an hour."

"Yes sir," Harry agreed, as he watched Severus retreat.

Harry chuckled. It was strange to see his father dressed in a Quidditch Uniform, and wearing clothes that weren't black. The man was obviously uncomfortable in unfamiliar clothes, and he didn't seem quite so intimidating. Perhaps the first year Hufflepuff with tears streaking down his face, didn't agree.

The boy had been running down the corridor, which was already against the school rules, but was something that Severus was particularly strict about. After all, students were not meant to run down the corridors of a distinguished learning institution such as Hogwarts. They were meant to walk in a calm, orderly fashion, making as little noise as possible. That is how Severus preferred children. Making as little noise as possible, and having as little interaction with them, as was necessary.

Of course, since he had been manipulated by Albus into teaching a whole school full of the snot-nosed little brats, Severus was forced to endure a certain amount of contact with them. But that didn't mean that he had to accept unruly behaviour from them like their indulgant parents, and the Headmaster. No, even first years learnt pretty quickly that Professor Snape was master of his classroom, and were not foolish enough to test his patience. The tall, dark man had left many a student quivering with fear from nothing more than a glare at them with his cold, black eyes.

The poor child probably had no idea that the tall man dressed in a maroon and gold sweater and pants, was actually his most feared professor, when he had made the decision to speed down the hallways, at breakneck speed,  knocking into the scowling man. The boy had been quite quickly and firmly put in his place, however. Harry sighed. He wished that he could help the little tyke, but alas, the child had to learn the hard way as he himself had done, that at Hogwarts, the walls had ears, and Professor Severus Snape was bound to be around every corner, just waiting and watching; ready to pounce at the next unsuspecting student to come his way, so that he could assign them the most tedious and gruesome detentions.

Harry knew that he himself would not escape the wrath of Severus Snape, no matter their relationship, if he were to test the man's resolve. Strangely enough, this realisation elicited a warm glow. Snape may be a right git at times, but he was Harry's git. He had a father now, and that was all that was important to Harry. Besides, Harry was certain that he could use his considerable charm to soften the greasy git up. Of course, that might take a few years...

--

Harry, Ron and Neville were still talking about their Quidditch win as they were finshing up dressing in their clean robes for Dinner. Ron had developed a new-found closeness with his father and the change in Neville was remarkable. The shy boy had really opened up with the attention he had received from Remus. Harry patted himself on the back for having the foresight to put the two of them together. It had turned out to be a good match. Remus was just patient and softspoken enough to put the boy at ease. Under Snape's harsh treatment, Neville had retreated into himself and had become quite nervous and lacked self-confidence. Under Remus' gentle guidance, Neville felt more at ease, and Harry was certain that, as it seemed that Remus was willing to continue to mentor the boy, that Neville would definitely prosper and become more self-assured as time went on.

Harry smiled. It would seem that Father and Son Day at Hogwarts had turned out to be a turning point in all their lives. Harry had taken a giant leap in his tumultous relationship with his father, Ron had the opportunity to be the sole focus of his father's attention and affection for one day, and possibly this paved the way for them to do so more frequently in the future, and Neville had a postive male role model in his life; one that would offer support and guidance for many years to come.

All in all, it had been a great day, Harry decided as he made his way down to the Great Hall, laughing and reminiscing with his friends. His smile faltered, however, when he saw his father, standing by the doorway, looking impatiently at his stopwatch. Oops, Harry thought. I'm fifteen minutes late! He had been enjoying the banter with his friends too much, to think about time constraints.

The man definitely looked more intimidating dressed in his long, flowing black robes, Harry decided.

“You're late,” Severus snapped at him, as Harry arrived at the entrance. Neville and Ron gave Harry a sympathetic look, but slipped by the irate Potions Master quickly.

Harry glared at them as they passed. Traitors, he mouthed at them. They shrugged, and smirked at Harry, as if to say: good luck mate.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Uh, sorry sir. I kind of lost track of time.”

Severus' anger deflated a little, but he gave Harry a disapproving look.

“Very well, let's proceed before we miss dinner, as well.”

“Yes sir,” Harry agreed quickly. Harry had a feeling that there would be many times in the future, that he would be trying to curb his father's volatile temper, and many times that Harry would have to curb his own tendancy to fuel the fire.

Theirs would never be an easy relationship Harry thought, but he had a feeling deep inside that it would also be one of mutual respect and eventual understanding of one another. His father was a very complex man; moreso than Harry had ever fathomed. He had so many layers to his personality that just when Harry thought that he had the man figured out, and knew what made him tick, he did an about-face, and surprised Harry with his unexpected reactions.

Harry and Severus took a seat once more at the Gryffindor table with Arthur, Ron, Neville and Remus. Harry smirked at his father. He didn't know what gave him the courage, but he just couldn't help himself.

“I think that you've earned a place as an honourary Gryffindor sir,” he said.

Severus gave Harry his fiercest glare.

Ron and Neville's jaws dropped at Harry's audacity.

“He's got a point there, Severus,” Remus chuckled.

Arthur nodded. “Yes Severus, I heard rumours that they're thinking of putting a plaque in the Gryffindor Common room, in your honour.”

Severus smirked at Harry. “Actually Potter, didn't you hear about the rule that when a Professor, particularly the Head of House, has a child attending Hogwarts, they have the right to insist that their child be placed in his House, and forgo the Sorting ceremony altogether. In your case, I have the right to move you to Slytherin.” His lips quirked when Harry's face blanched.

“You wouldn't?” Harry exclaimed in horror.

“Hmm, I don't know. I think it might be the perfect opportunity for you and Mr. Malfoy to become good friends; you know... being in close proximity in the dormitory and such,” Severus said with a perfectly straight face.

Harry gagged on a carrot, and stared at his father. The man looked serious, but then shocked the hell out of Harry, when he began to chuckle.

“Relax, Potter,” Severus reassured him. I've no intention of moving you to Slytherin. You are the epitome of everything Gryffindor. You could never be a Slytherin.”

“That's where you're wrong sir. The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. I talked it out of it,” Harry said while nonchalently grabbing a dinner roll from the basket before taking a bite of the hot, buttered bread.

It was quite hilarious to see the various emotions on their faces, Harry decided. Severus looked like he'd been hit by a herd of hippogriphs, Ron and Neville looked absolutely appalled, and they stared open-mouthed at their friend, Remus and Arthur's eyes widened at this revelation as well.

Severus felt a mixture of shock and pride, and a little disappointment as well. Harry would have been a Slytherin had they known about their relationship earlier, he thought with a stab of regret. And he would have belonged there, not simply been placed there by default because of their relationship.

Remus put his hand on Severus' shoulder, and snickered at Severus' look of horror at the man's daring to touch his person. “Well Severus, it looks as though you and Harry each have Slytherin and Gryffindor qualities.”

“I am no Gryffindor, werewolf,” Severus said angrily. “And kindly remove your arm from my shoulder at once,” he barked.

Remus withdrew his hand quickly. No sense in angering the quick-tempered man even more. Oh well, perhaps Harry would soften the volatile Slytherin's attitude over time. Harry had a way of doing that, Remus thought affectionately. Harry could bring out the best in anyone.

The Great Hall quietened down considerably, when Dumbledore rose from his seat, to take the Podium.

“Well, Gentlemen, I think that everyone will agree that our first Father and Son Day has been a phenomenal success,” he said cheerily.

Not everyone, thought Harry. He took a peek at the Slytherin table and stifled a laugh at the sour look on Lucius' face. Draco scowled at the Headmaster, and looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than sitting at the Slytherin table under the resentful glare of his Housemates.

“Since this event has been so successful,” Dumbledore continued, “I believe that we will repeat this delightful experience next year.”

The Hall erupted in cheering and clapping. Harry clapped heartily, but Severus tapped his hands together lightly, and rolled his eyes at the Headmaster's flowery speech. Harry felt a stab of disappointment, when he noticed his father's less-than-pleased expression. Harry had hoped that this experience had been as pleasurable for his father, as it had been for Harry. Harry had thought that his father had felt the change in their relationship as well. Maybe he had been wrong, Harry thought sadly. That is until the man looked at him and as though reading his thoughts, hesitatingly lifted his hand, and gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze.