Severus Snape was not a people person. Whenever he met new people, Severus always ended up insulting them. Even when he tried to be polite it always came out wrong. The thing is, he found it hard not to point out the person's deficiencies. People often misunderstood his advice to be sneering and derogatory insults and that was simply not the case...most of the time. His colleagues have told him that it was not the comments he made, it was the way he said them. Apparently Severus did not understand the art of subtlety nor the relevance of being nice.

Within his quarters, Severus sat down at his desk and pulled out a tall stack of homework. He needed something to take his mind off of Harry. He couldn't think about the boy right now, he couldn't deal with it. Funny, if you think about it. He'd been a spy for a very long time and dealt with innumerable amount of horrid things. Nothing had ever thwarted him. But this, the emotions he was feeling now…it baffled and confused him. It scared him. Frowning deeply and shaking his head, Severus set to work ripping into the first essay that belonged to a 5th year Ravenclaw.

There were very few people in this world Severus trusted, respected or got along with – most of the staff, some old friends and a few Potion acquaintances. Even then, he rarely socialized with them. Severus found recreational activities such as parties and Quidditch, unproductive and pointless. The Potions Master loved his solitude like it was a religion, often refusing invitations to events and preferring to play chess with the Slytherin portraits or studying the latest discoveries in Potions.

In this matter, Severus Snape was all too predictable.

Fifteen minutes later and on his fourth essay, the disgruntled man grunted as he gave paper before him a D. Deplorable! Disgraceful! Dismal! Depressingly unacceptable for the work of a Slytherin! The entire essay was deficient of sound argument and proper grammar. If it had been any other house, he would have given it a T. Then again, if he was in a better mood, it would have certainly been a passing grade. But Severus was not in the mood to hand out passing grades today.

In fact, Severus was in a decidedly terrible mood.

The Slytherin head of house had no tolerance for unruly children or children in general, for that matter. There was only one child he ever cared about and that was his godson, Draco Malfoy. He knew Draco from the day the child was born and have been looking out for him ever since. Although he frowned at Lucius and Narcissia's parenting technique, Severus decided long ago not to intervene. Draco, after all, was not his child.

If there was a child he disliked the most, it was definitely Harry Potter. No surprises there, really. Five years ago the young Gryffindor, wide-eyed and oblivious, came into Severus' life and redefined the word 'dislike'. Contrary to many popular legends, he did not hate Potter, nor did he want to use any of Potter's body parts as potion ingredients. But dislike, oh yes, he had a certain dislike for the boy.

Severus tried his best to focus on the unintelligible scribbling under his nose. But he found himself reading the same paragraph over and over again and nothing was getting through. Frustrated, he slashed a P at the top and moved on to the next one.

Everything was fine until the little Gryffindor nimrod got himself de-aged! By 14 years no less! Everything from that point on, well…he rather not talked about that. Albus talked with Severus after the potion had been administered, linking his awful mood to be in association with Potter's re-aging. Severus denied the hypothesis, told Dumbledore that he had a lot of work to catch up on and promptly retreated into his quarters where upon he fired the assistant and physically tossed him from the lab.

Now, he was giving out a T to the last of the unlucky essays. This was the twentieth T, preceded by fifteen D's, elven P's, nine A's, three E's and not a single O.

An hour passed before Severus slammed down his quill and ran a hand through his hair. Okay, so he was worried. What if the potion did not work? What if it had side affects? The varying conditions and results surrounding an accident is what make these types of potions unpredictable. It is simply impossible for a single potion to take into account all of the possible conditions of an accident. That's why potions like this were rarely brewed and highly unreliable. Also, because de-aging accidents were one in ten million, there was just no way of scientifically testing them.

Trust Potter to hit a one in a ten million chance! Severus sneered inside his own head.

The man had done considerable research on Potter's potion and he believed that it was safe and would work. Even so, what if something went wrong? The Potions Master frowned and fretted and put his fingers to his temple. It would take twenty-four hours for Potter to be re-aged. Twenty-hour hours in which Severus would not eat or sleep, overcome with worry.

Harry woke up in the hospital wing and the first thought that went through his head was; oh no not again! Despite being a bit groggy, the teen recognized where he was immediately. He loathed the hospital room: the smell, the mood and the sheer pristine cleanliness of it. Couldn't he go through just one school year without ending up the dreadful room? He hated the infirmary even worse when he couldn't remember who or what had put him in there. And that was precisely what was happening at the moment – Harry couldn't remember a thing.

Harry groaned, being very annoyed with the situation. Once again he was alone in the room surrounded by nothing white walls and empty beds with white linen sheets. Nobody else was as accident prone as he was, although Neville could give him a run for his money. Even so, Neville's accidents did not usually involve the infirmary, Neville was just clumsy. Harry's accidents, on the other hand were more serious. If it wasn't a broken arm, it was basilisk poison. If it wasn't a concussion, it was second-degree burns from an angry fire-breathing dragon. So what was it this time; another Quidditch accident? Had somebody attacked him from behind? Or maybe it was another mishap in the potions lab?

Harry rubbed his eyes, pushed the covers aside and sat up. He knew it had to be something serious because had it been a minor injury, he'd be able to remember. Moreover, he'd be hounded by his friends, all eager to know if he had to stay overnight. No one was here, however, a clue that Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away so he could get rest.

"Mr. Potter. Awake I see, how do you feel?" Harry turned towards the all too familiar voice of Madam Pomfrey. The young Gryffindor moaned in mental distress. It wasn't that he did not like her, it was just that she always reprimanded him for ending up in her care and half the time it wasn't even his fault. Plus, she always had the worst tasting potions around…blegh!

"Okay I guess," Harry answered, though he did feel a bit odd. Something was off, he just couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. "What happened?" He asked, reaching over to the night-stand for his glasses.

"Oh, it's complicated, dear."

"Complicated?" Harry echoed, frowning. Oh great! That meant it probably wasn't a Quidditch accident.

"Mmm. Sit up a bit more and let me run some tests," she ordered.

Harry listened and leaned against the headboard while Madam Pomfrey casted the diagnosis charms.

Maybe he had gotten into a fight with Malfoy? Or maybe somebody tried to kill him again? He wouldn't be surprised if somebody did try to attack, kidnap, and torture him and then send him to a long overdue, grizzly death. What scared him, was that the thought of death didn't scare him…if that made any sense. A normal person would be terrified of having a target on his back, the biggest target in all of the Eastern Hemisphere in this case. But him? Oh no, he wasn't really scared, he was used to it. Was that a good thing or bad thing?

Or maybe he was overreacting. This was Hogwarts, it was safe here, no one could hurt him. Well…except for the DADA professors, Harry reminded himself.

"Well, good news. You seem to be in fine order, Mr. Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as she tucked her wand away and took down notes for the records. Harry mused absently over how long his record was going to get by the time he graduated. Students on the Quidditch team all have long and the worst hospital records…but he'd bet his Firebolt he would have the longest and most awful of injuries. Wonderful! Here he was, breaking records again without even trying or meaning to.

"You best stay here another day just in case. But you should be out of here by tomorrow morning," Madam Pomfrey continued.

Another day and night? That was another bad sign.

"Do I have to stay?" Harry complained, he as eager to find his friends and find out what happened. "I feel fine, really."

"Well of course you'll need to stay, you've only been incapacitated for the past month dear," Madam Pomfrey tisked . "I'll order you some breakfast. You must be famished."

Harry's eyes bulged. "A month?"

A month? What the heck happened?

The medi-witch signed as she turned around to Harry. It was going to be difficult to explain to the child. The situation was much more complicated that can be expressed through words. It was quite obvious that Severus had become very fond of baby Harry. Her friend and colleague for fifteen years, had spent more than a month caring for and tending to Harry.

In that short time, she had seen thirty years of scars washed away. When Harry laughed, Severus smiled. When Harry cried, Severus frowned. And when Harry clung to him like a limpet, Seveurs was proud. Now, all that had been stripped away. Once again, Severus has lost someone he cared about. But, has he really? Harry was still here. But, he possessed none of the memories of his time as a baby. How could he? He has no idea of how for one month, the man whom he shared such animosity was his 'dada'.

"Please tell me," Harry said again. All this silence was making him worry. What in the world had happened to him? "Is it that bad?"

Madam Pomfrey looked down at Harry with a gentle, but sad look on her face. "No…no you're fine. Well you'll have to find out some time. Now, what is the last thing you remember?"

"Oh…um…" Harry hesitates a moment, trying to recall the last thing he did. "I don't know, I think I was going to class."

"Yes, you were going to Potions. I'm afraid you had an accident."

"Okay. What kind of accident? Is…is it permanent? What's wrong with me?"

Before Madam Pomfrey could continue, the door to the infirmary swung open and Albus Dumbledore walked in, with impeccable timing.

"Ah, Harry my dear boy, I see you're up and at it. Good, good," said Dumbledore as he walked up to Harry. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I guess, but Madam Pomfrey was just about to tell me why I'm in the hospital again."

Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey exchanged glances. Both of them were thinking of the same thing.

"Yes. Yes. You should know," said Dumbledore a little more sombre than his usual self, which had Harry worried even more. "You have always been an amazing child, Harry and you have a great capacity to love. So before I tell you, I need you to promise me two things."

Harry wondered what professor Dumbledore was talking about and what his capacity to love had anything to do with the accident. "What is it?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Harry, promise me that you will keep an open mind, and promise me that you will give him a chance."

"Give who a chance?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore answered in a calm tone, looking at Harry in an expression that could only be described as a plea.

This unexpected news stirred up strong emotions in the Gryffindor. "Snape? Why? What does he have to do with it? Is he why I'm in the hospital?" Harry started accusingly. He always knew Snape hated his guts. Now he has physical proof! However, the teenager never thought that Snape hated him so much that he'd land him in the hospital.

"No, no Harry. In fact, Professor Snape has been the one to care for you while you were … incapable of doing so yourself."

"Really? Snape, care for me? I don't understand."

"You will, Harry you will," Dumbledore said. "Now, can you promise me those two things? "

Harry bit his lip as he thought it through. The promises Professor Dumbledore asked of him was going to be very hard, if not impossible to keep. Why should he give Snape a second chance or keep an open mind when the man did neither for him? "So, you want me to keep an open mind and give Snape…uh, I mean Professor Snape a second chance?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I will not make you swear by it, but promise me you will try. If you can, try to speak with him."

Harry's mouth fell open. Now that's insane! Speak to Snape? How the heck…how does he…ehg! No. No way. The only time Snape spoke to him was to rebuke him for his terrible essays and poorly brewed potions. Or to insult his deceased father. Harry would rather have Lockhart make his bones disappear again than talk to Snape.

Dumbledore sensed Harry's unease and explained further, "I know how you feel towards Professor Snape. But he has done quite a lot of you, as you will soon learn. Believe it or not, he has come to care for you a great deal."

Now that, Harry did not believe in one bit. It must have been an act or something. If Snape was kind or caring, he must have had an ulterior motive.

"Why would he do that? He hates me."

"Hate is a strong emotion, you should not use that word so causally," the headmaster admonished. "Professor Snape harbours no such feelings towards you. If you do not trust his words, then trust mine."

Harry shrugged. He did trust the headmaster very much. Hermione told him the same thing all the time, that Professor Snape was a professor and that he did not hate Harry. Well, then why did he feel so hated?

The young man looked up to see both the headmaster and the medi-witch staring at him. He looked away. How could he deny Professor Dumbledore when the old wizard was boring a hole through his head? "Well…I guess so….okay. I'll try. I promise I'll at least try," Harry, murmured reluctantly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Good boy. Now, what I am about to tell you isn't easy to comprehend, but just take it one step at a time. A lot has happened during the past month and many things are not what they were."

"Okay, I'm ready. Just tell me," Harry swallowed, already deciding that he was not going to forgive Snape for whatever the man's done to him and he should have never made a promise he could not keep. Judging by the looks on headmaster and medi-witch's faces, the news was dire.

"You were de-aged by 14 years."

Harry blinked. "I've been WHAT?"

As Harry listened to Professor Dumbledore explain everything, he became utterly speechless. The Gryffindor did not know what to think. It was all kind of scary; the de-aging part, the Snape part…especially the Snape part. He had all day to process what the headmaster revealed. In the end, the only conclusion he came to was that Snape had been jinxed or was secretly someone else under polyjuice. It was obvious.

When Ron and Hermione came to visit, Harry imparted his logic to them.

"This has to be some kind of conspiracy or a inside joke that I am not a part of, right? I mean, this is the same Snape I've known since first year? This Snape you're all talking about isn't some polyjuiced stranger? We've seen it with Mad-Eye, it's possible. Maybe Snape died and Dumbledore doesn't want us to know yet. Tell me it's possible, Hermione."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. Professor Snape is himself. And no, he did not die. I know it's hard for you to understand. This is a lot of information and you're confused. But Professor Snape has really been taking care of you for the past month. He really took a liking to you, too. He carried you around everywhere and even changed your nappies," She explained.

At this moment, Ron, being the best friend that he was, snorted.

"Snape took care of me! I mean. He fed me? He carried me around, changed my diapers and …..oohhhh god, I think I'll die now." Harry dropped back onto his bed and covered his red face with both hands. "Why can't my life be normal?"

"Hey, it's all right," Ron said with as much sympathy as he could muster. "If it makes you feel any better, Dumbledore kept anyone from taking pictures. There hasn't been anything in the Daily Prophet about it. Not a peep form Rita Skeeter."

"Rita Skeeter? Ron, don't remind me. I never want to hear her name ever again," Harry grumbled. The last thing he needed right now was another article in the paper spreading rumours about his lunacy.

"You really shouldn't be embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with a baby needing to be fed and having his…"

"Hermione!" Harry cut her off. "You don't get it. How would you feel if you had been de-aged and Snape was the one changing your diapers! It's not funny Ron! It's humiliating. How can I look at him ever again. I'll die!"

"Will you relax. Professor Snape's not going to make fun of you."

"Yeah. Just like how he hasn't been making fun of me for the past five years right?" Harry pointed out, putting emphasis on the, five years.

"He's changed."

"Changed? " Harry echoed skeptically.

"Well yes, even Ron thinks so, isn't that right Ron?"

"Um…yes and no?"

"Egh," the girl sighed, "never mind."

Harry decided to change the subject and steered his friends as far away from the subject of babies and Snape as possible. "So, how are we doing in Quidditch?"

o0oo0o0oo0o

There was another surprising side effect to his de-aging. His scar was gone. Harry felt strange when he looked in the mirror and saw no lightning shaped mark on his forehead. That wasn't just any scar. To a whole generation of British witches ad wizards, Harry's scar was his identity and the story behind it was historic. To Harry, the scar came with memories and a history of unfortunate events.

Professor Dumbledore put his explanation in the simplest of terms; since Harry was de-aged to a body prior to the events of Halloween, 1981, Voldemort never did the damage to this version of his body. Thus - no scar. The situation was obviously far more complicated than that. But the headmaster told Harry not to worry about it. If he presumed correctly, the scar would not come back.N obody knew what this meant, they would all have to wait and see.

o0oo0o0oo0o

Harry groaned, wondering how he had gotten himself in such a predicament. He had escaped the infirmary and was now back in the much cozier living quarters of Gryffindor Tower. But he could not escape the talks about babies. All day and everywhere Harry went, eyes followed him. The girls whispered to each other and giggled, even the Slytherin girls. Harry didn't want to think about what they were giggling about.

"You were a cute baby you know," Hermione shared.

Harry felt the need bang his head on the table.

"Yeah. You're lucky Snape didn't drop you on your head."

"Ron, Professor Snape is a potions master. There was no way he would do something like that with those steady hands," said Hermione.

"Yea well, potion cauldrons never did an impression of a bucking hippogryph," Dean barged in and all three of them laughed. But Harry couldn't find the humour in what Dean had said.

"Can we talk about something else, now?" Harry muttered with his forehead still on the table. But no such luck.

"Aw, our little Harry is all grown up," Fred joked as he and his brother came into the common room. One of them slapped Harry on the back.

"T'was only yesterday that I could hold him in me hands," said George, following his brother and giving Harry a brotherly clap on the shoulder.

Harry rolled his eyes and finally raised his head to give an annoyed look at the twins. "Oh shut up."

"He was such a wee thing…"

"…no bigger my left arm"

"or my right."

"wearing his wee diaper…"

"and chewing on his pacifier…"

"Alright alright! Leave me alone, will ya."Harry said quickly, blushing a shade of pink.

"Oh come, now. We're just having a bit of fun," said Fred.

"Besides, you were awfully adorable as a baby," George followed.

"Yup, even more adorable than our baby brother," Fred concluded. Now it was Ron's turn to blush.

"Okay! You can go now, bye." The red haired boy intervened before his brothers could begin telling the whole Gryffindor student body his baby stories.

"Fine. We'll let you off easy this time."

"Yes, but only because we have important work to do," George remarked.

"Very important work."

"And very secretive."

Hermione crossed her arms and gave the twins a look of disapproval. "What are you two up to this time?"

"Oh, something spectacular."

"Just wait and see, Granger. And be prepared to be blown away." George gestured outwardly with his hands. He winked and the brothers departed into their room.

"Those two," Hermione tutted. "They will get themselves expelled one of these days."

"Nah," said Ron. "As much as I hate to say it, those two are too smart to be expelled."

"Malfoy!" Harry cried out suddenly, making both Ron and Hermione jump. "I'll kill him, I will! This is all his fault. He'll never let me live it down! I could hear him now, the baby potty needs his diaper changed? Damn it!" Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"No, you will not. Fighting with Malfoy will not help," Hermione protested. "Besides, I think, somehow this was meant to be."

"What do you mean? This was meant to be?" Harry was more than a bit miffed at her at the moment. "I was de-aged for one month, by 14 years! I have people laughing and making baby jokes at me. I…I don't even know how to react to the whole Snape being my babysitter thing. But one thing I do know is that thiswhole stupidthing was notmeant to be! Ron, mate, tell her."

Ron, being Harry's best mate would have sided with Harry if it were not for two things. One, Hermione scared him and two, Hermione was sort of right.

"Well…I'm not sure if it was meant to be or not. But Snape did, kinda, did carry you around and stuff."

"He did more than just carry you around, Harry," Hermione added. "He really took good care of you. More than your relatives ever did. And the reason I said that this is mean to be is that, there's still a chance."

"For what?"

"For you two."

"To what!?"

"Oh I don't know. To reconcile? To have a civil conversation? To have an ounce of what you two had when you were a baby and he was carrying you around and you falling asleep face planted on his shoulder. I just want the best for you Harry, and I think there's a chance."

"Well there's not. There is no chance at all that he and I could do … whatever you just said," Harry nearly shouted. "Maybe he did take care of me and good care too. Maybe he did even like me one little bit. But I'm not one year old anymore. I'm back to my old, normal self. And Snape hates thisme," Harry gestured to himself.

Ron spoke tentatively, trying to help and not make the situation worse. "Mate, you know I've always been the first to agree with you when it comes to that greasy git. But, this time, I can't help agreeing with Hermione. Snape doesn't hate you anymore. I mean, I actually saw him smile! And not in that ''I'm going to give you detention smirk'.And he even deducted less points from Gryffindor. Actually, I haven't gotten detention from Snape in a month!"

"Whatever," Harry shook his head. They're wrong, he hates me.I know it.But at the same time, a little voice inside his head told him otherwise.

Harry felt very anxious about the first potions class, despite his friends' assurance that everything will be fine. Thankfully, the class was mostly uneventful - unless you count the fact that Snape deducted 10 points from Malfoy when he teased Harry about his de-aging. Otherwise, Snape did not so much look in Harry's direction and Harry wouldn't have had it any other way.

That evening, Harry mulled over what Professor Dumbledore and his friends told him. So far, Professor Snape hadn't been mean or unfair to Harry. Harry thought that being ignored by the Potions Master was more preferable to being ridiculed. Snape was definitely not himself. He hadn't even bugged Harry when he botched up his potion.

Harry turned over in his bed and pulled the covers closer around him.

"He has done quite a lot of you, as you will soon learn. Believe it or not, he has come to care for you a great deal."

"But Professor Snape has really been taking care of you for the past month."

"Well…I'm not sure if it was meant to be or not. But Snape did, kind of, carry you around and stuff."

Professor Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron had said these things. Of all the people in the whole world, he trusted these three the most. They would never lie about him about something like this. They wouldn't lead him astray. Even Ron, who had always been the first to bad-mouth Snape, was telling him that Snape wasn't so bad anymore.

With his whole life in constant turmoil from being the Boy Who Lived and "boy who gets attacked by Death Eaters and Dementors", Harry certainly did not need another complication in his life. Now he was getting conflicted feelings about Snape. He didn't want to believe what the others have been telling him.

Technically, a nice Snape would be a good thing. So he should be happy that Snape wasn't being a git anymore. But waking up one morning and finding out that the man who hates your guts suddenly and supposedly, cared about you, was beyond Harry's comprehension and understanding.

So Snape babysat Harry for a month. How could things have changed that much?

It was awhile before he fell asleep.

Ooo0o0ooO

"You really ought to thank him," Hermione urged him late one night as they sat in front of the fireplace, quizzing each other on Charms.

Harry turned to Hermione. "What?"

"I said…"

"I heard what you said. I don't know…" Harry mumble and looked into the fire.

"Just go to his office and get it over with."

"He'll make fun of me."

"I'm sure he won't. He hasn't so far has he?"

"No. But how would you know he won't start?"

"Trust me, he won't," Hermione remarked confidently.

Harry was not convinced. "Yeah, right."

"You won't believe me. But things have changed a lot since you de-aged yourself."

"Lucky me," Harry grumbled. Everyone's been telling him that. Problem was that he couldn't remember any of it.

"Yes, Harry. You are lucky."

Harry whined."Do I have to?"

"No. But you should."

Harry knows he should, out of politeness if nothing else. Professor Snape had gave a lot of time and energy to babysit him. Harry realized that now, thanks to Hermione's constant reminders. And then there were those promises that he made to Professor Dumbledore. "I can't believe you're making me do this."

Hermione smiled. "Just give him a chance. You won't regret it."

00oo0o0oo00

Inside the quarters reserved for the Potions Master, Severus paced to and forth. A lot have been on his mind lately and all of them about damn Potter. Try as he might, Severus couldn't erase the memories of the past month from taking over his thoughts.

Severus convinced himself that it was only natural to think about Potter when he was right under his nose. In fact, it was tremendously difficult not to think about the brat when he was screaming bloody murder. But now he had no such excuse. Potter was no longer sitting in his lap in his direct line of vision and the brat was not screaming or making boisterous sounds loud enough to rupture an eardrum.

Harry was back to Potter, the teenager he had and certainly still has an aversion to.

Many years ago he had made a commitment and a promise to Harry's mother that he would watch over Harry and protect the child. But now it seems that he a different motivation to do so. Severus actually felt like he still cared about Harry. Which is ridiculous because the toddler he looked after and begun to care for didn't exist anymore.

He should be thankful that Potter was back to normal and no longer being a screaming, drooling baby. But he wasn't happy.

Severus had been avoiding Potter and his gang of rugrats. It had only been a few days and already, he was missing the companion of the toddler. A part of him had even wanted to spoil the potion, so that he could have a little more time with Harry. But no, the longer he waited, the harder it would have been to let go. In addition, it would not have been fair to Harry. Harry had a life and who was he to take it away?

Severus continued to pace around the room.

What to do? What to do?

During today's potions class, he avoided making eye contact. And as far as he knew, the young Gryffindor wanted nothing to do with him. Severus found it infuriatingly impossible to berate Harry for having, once again, failed at brewing a simple potion. Furthermore, when Draco mocked Harry, he sent shockwaves throughout Hogwarts by deducting points from his own house the first time since the year began.

However, what was most the alarming was that he continued to catch himself addressing the boy as Harry instead of Mr. Potter or simply Potter.

Severus sat down in his chair rubbed his face. What spell have you cast upon me Harry Potter?

Knock Knock

Severus ignored the knock, he was in no mood to talk to anyone.

Knock knock knock

When the person at the door refused to go away and he intended to give whoever is on the other side a month's detention.

Reluctantly, he got up and wrenched the door open.

"What do you want?" he yelled sharply without seeing who it was.

Harry shrank back, "Sorry, Professor Snape."

"Ha…Mr. Potter," Severus said, taken by surprise. He knew instantly that someone likely made the boy come down here tonight. Harry looked anxious and uncomfortable, but Severus was taken aback by the genuineness in Harry's voice when he spoke.

"Um…I just…just wanted to say…" Harry stumbled over his words but finally manages a quick 'thank you'. It took him a full half an hour to gather up enough courage to knock on the stone door. Now he looked down at the floor and the hem of Snape's robes, waiting for a rebuke.

Harry may not have come to thank him on his own free will, but the simple gesture meant a lot to Severus. He was surprised, but pleased. Well, both can play at that game, Severus mused.

"You are welcome, Mr. Potter," the Potions Master replied.

o0oo0oo0o

In the next few days, the tension between the Potions Master and Harry settled somewhat. Hermione commented that it would be really difficult for them to ignore each other forever, as neither of them were going anywhere and Harry still had 2 more years of school left. She was also very pleased with herself when Harry had told her that she had been right all along and Snape didn't make fun of him.

It was two weeks later that Harry and Severus talked to each other again.

Severus had become accustomed to night patrol. That did not mean he had to like it. Believe it or not, he would rather sleep than walk around in the dark, deserted hallways looking for disobedient students. Even Argus Filch gave up his hunt for troublemakers at this ungodly hour. Sometime, somewhere and somehow the duty of night patrol landed squarely on his shoulders. He doesn't get paid enough for this.

After doing the same mundane job for over 10 years, Severus has memorized the hallways like the inside of his closet. He knows each corner, every short-cut and every potential hideout. The Slytherin head of house was so skilled at this task that he does not even need lumos to light his way - which was helpful in catching students off guard and giving them the fright of their young lives.

Tonight was like any other night. Not fifteen minutes into his shift, Severus caught sight of a short figure in a hall on the second floor, looking out a window.

He advanced, preparing to take the wayward student by surprise and scold them till kingdom come. As he got closer though, he recognized the silhouette to be none other than Harry. Severus heaved a sigh and decided right then and there that he was going to give Harry…er, Potter a verbal thrashing.

Severus approached stealthily and coughed. "Ehm ehm."

Harry startled and nearly jumped out of his shoes when he heard a deep voice speak. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't see or hear the Potions Master approaching.

"Professor!" Harry cried out, quickly rubbing his eyes.

The moon lit up Harry's face and in the faint light Severus could see that the child's eyes were red and puffy.

Immediately, Severus' annoyance turned into concern and he lost all of his previous determination to scold the boy. Severus walked over and stopped in front of the short Gryfindor. He put on a stern but unthreatening voice, saying, "care to tell me why you are out of bed at this hour, Mr. Potter?"

Harry lowered his head and clasped his hands behind him. "I…I couldn't sleep."

"You could not sleep?" Severus echoed questioningly.

"No…I uh, had a dream," Harry admitted in a slightly panicked voice.

"I see," Severus replied. He folded his arms and asked incredulously, "you're to tell me that, you broke curfew because you had a bad dream?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Harry's answer was barely audible. "I just…never mind."

"Go on. Tell me, what makes you think you can wander around after hours, exposing yourself to danger, just because you had a bad dream?"

"I thought Hogwarts was supposed to be safe…" Harry muttered cheekily.

Severus' expression didn't change at Harry's small defiant tone. He was astounded at how rebellious the boy sounded, standing there hunched over and looking sullen.

He really should have deducted points, but instead, he only gave Harry a warning. "Insolence, Potter. It is far too late for me to deal with your insolence. One more cheek, and it'll be detention. Now, answer my question."

Harry shrugged. "I have nightmares. I like it out here. It's quiet and calm out here. I can clear my head. I won't do it again. Can I go back to my dorm now."

The teenager tried to escape by moving around Severus, but was stopped with a hand.

"Not so fast, Potter," Severus drawled. "Given your track record, I don't believe for a minute that you won't try this again. Were you dreams about the Dark Lord?"

Harry nodded mutely.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Looks like his own sleep will have to be delayed. "Alright, come with me."

Harry eyed the potions professor dubiously, staying where he was. He wasn't keen on going anywhere with Snape at this time of night. Who knows what the professor had in mind for him!

"Quickly, Potter," Severus said authoritatively, already turning to leave. "I don't have all night."

Harry hesitated a moment before following with a forlorn expression on his face.

"Um, where are we going, sir?" He dared to ask.

"My quarters." Severus answered swiftly.

"What? Why?" Harry asked, confused and quite a bit wary of going anywhere near Snape's quarters. He and his dorm-mates sometimes wondered about what Snape's living quarters were like. Rumours were that Snape lived in a real dungeon with all kinds of dungeon-y things. There was also wide speculation that the professor's animagus was a bat and that's how he slept at night, hanging upside down from the ceiling. Come to think of it, Snape being a bat would also explain how he could navigate Hogwarts in pitch black and sneaked up on him all the time. Harry was definitely curious, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out.

"We need to discuss a few things before you go to bed," Severus explained.

Harry groaned under his breathe. He was fairly sure that Snape would tear him to bits and throw his sorry self in a cellar to clean and polish cauldrons. But what choice did he have? He was too tired to argue anyway.

"Don't worry, you'll live."

Harry gulped.

When they got to their destination, however, what Severus did was the last thing Harry suspected: he offered Harry a cup of hot cocoa.

Was he dreaming? Harry though. Because the current scenario was impossible!

"Cocoa helps soothe the body and the mind," Severus stated after he sat Harry down onto a chair in front of a round oak table. He thought he was done worrying about Harry's bedtime when the boy was back to 15 year old self. Obviously, he was wrong.

"It also relieves insomnia. Be careful, it is hot."

Harry stared down into the mug speechlessly and then looked up at Severus like he's just sprouted a Cerberus head. When he boy entered he potion master's room, he was astonished at how ordinary it looked. There were no dungeon-y furniture, or gothic décor. Instead, there was plain furniture, an oil painting and an antique dragon statuette.

Severus sat down on the chair opposite of Harry as if this was their usual routine. The fact was this wasn't the first time he'd stayed up late, offering a cuppa to help a troubled boy or girl.

"You have a habit of wandering the halls after curfew, Mr. Potter," Severus enounced. "I catch you several times a year in your misdemeanour. Neither points nor detention seem to have any impact at all. What do you suggest we do to curb you of this bad habit?"

Harry shrugged, slumped over in his chair.

"I've been thinking," Severus continued. "Instead of waiting and reacting to your misbehaviour, perhaps I can find a way to prevent it. Why don't you tell me why you have so much trouble staying in bed?"

Harry bit his lip, wracking his brains for an answer that would please his professor. Finally he said the truth, "I have nightmares that's all. It's nothing."

"Am I correct in assuming that these nightmares concern what happened last year?"

Harry nodded.

Severus' brows bumped together in a frown. "These nightmares are affecting your sleep and your ability to follow the rules. Clearly, they are not nothing. Drink your cocoa."

Harry half obeyed and surrounded the hot mug with his hands. "I'm used to them," he revealed, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

Severus shook his head, "That appears to be the issue, Mr. Potter. Your dreams are causing insomnia, which you attempt to relieve by taking strolls in the middle of the night. You are used to it because it has been your routine for years. Do you not see a problem with your habit?"

Harry shrugged again, looking down as to avoid eye contact at all cost.

"Are you not going to answer?"

Harry sighed angrily. "I don't know. I'm breaking the rules I guess."

"Is that all?" Severus drawled. "You don't seem to be very concerned with that."

"It's the only thing that helps, alright!" Harry blurted out in self defense. "I have nightmares all the time and I turn around in bed for hours and every time I close my eyes all I see is him or Cedric dying or something else awful!"

"Do not raise your voice at me," Severus said calmly but with a degree of authority that instantly made Harry deflate.

"Sorry."

Severus accepted he apology with a nod. He was surprised at how tolerant he was feeling towards Harry's attitude. "Have you talked to anyone about these nightmares?"

"Won't help," Harry answered shortly.

"You should talk to someone about what happened, it is unhealthy to keep it all to yourself. Drink your cocoa."

Harry shrugged miserably but he finally took a deep sip from his hot cocoa, enjoying the sweet, smooth liquid as it ran down his throat.

"I recommend that you find someone to talk to. You have friends, don't you." Severus asked rhetorically.

"They won't understand. Nobody does."

Severus eyed Harry with concern. Of course they wouldn't, thought Severus, not completely. He understood. He could speak to Albus and Minerva about his troubles and they would support him through thick and thin. But his position as a double agent is so unique, how could he expect his colleagues to understand?

"Perhaps they won't and they may not be able to solve your problems. But you may feel better, by sharing your troubles and not baring it all on your own. You at least, have friends to support you." Severus knew all too well about bearing it all on his own. He could only wish he had friends that would simply listen…things may have turned out very differently for him had that been the case.

"Yeah? Like how Ron supported me last year? Some friend," Harry said resentfully and immediately felt bad about speaking ill of his best friend in front of Snape. He wasn't mad about that any more, he was just in a foul mood.

"What Mr. Weasley did was wrong. He was caught in a bout of childish jealousy," said Severus. The row between the two Gryffindors had been source of chatter throughout the school last year, even the faculty were aware of it. Not that he paid any attention to the going ons of student drama. "He has since made amends and you are friends again, is that not true? Don't tell me you are still holding a grudge."

"No," Harry said and turned his attention to playing with the handle of his mug.

"You are extremely fortunate when it comes to friends, Mr. Potter. As dimwitted as you may be, I should think you are aware of that at least. When I was your age I had few friends to confide in. I had no choice but to deal with things on my own. For the longest time I thought I could handle things by myself, without anyone's help. However, there were times when I would have given anything to have friends like you do, Mr. Potter. Do not take them for granted."

Harry drank again from his mug and began thinking about what the older man had said. He had experienced life without friends for 10 long years, and it sucked. Having friends like Ron and Hermione was the best thing that had happened to him. Ever since first year and the Philosopher Stone, they hid no secrets from one another. Then just this summer, he had a right row with Ron and Hermione for not telling him everything about the Order of the Phoenix. And he knew if Ron or Hermione was feeling unwell, he'd want to know. Maybe Snape was right, Harry considered. He has been through so much with them; maybe they deserved to know?

"Think about it, Mr. Potter. Do not underestimate your friends, they may understand more than you think," Severus advised.

"Fine," Harry answered solemnly.

"It is also helpful to find an adult to confide in, one who can help you make decisions. Preferably somebody who can cure you of your hero complex. You may be the Boy Who Lived, but the world is not yours to save. Your only duty is to keep up with your studies and worry about girls, not fighting the Dark Lord or going after basilisks."

"You don't know anything! I don't go looking for life and death situations, I just end up there somehow. And I don't have a hero complex, but what do you expect me to do when someone or something is trying to kill me!"

Severus shook his head in exasperation. "Only you would end up in such predicaments, Potter."

"It's not my fault."

"In any case, I highly recommend that you allow adults to handle things, rather than barge into dangerous situations, ignorant and ill prepared. But don't worry about that now. For the moment, I am concerned about these nightmares you have been having. Like I said, a wiser individual could help you interpret these dreams and why you are having them. Perhaps you should speak to Madam Pomprey. She is an excellent counselor."

Harry's frown deepened, thinking to himself. Great, now Snape thinks he's crazy. It wasn't easy for him to talk to adults and there wasn't that many he was willing to talk to. He could always talk to Sirius, but Sirius wasn't always easy to get a hold of. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall would probably help him, but he didn't want to bother them with his stupid dreams. They had more important things to worry about, like the Order of the Phoenix and their duties with the school.

"I guess," said Harry before he opened his mouth in a big yawn.

Severus nodded. "You should go to bed," he got up to his cupboard and brought out a vial of potion and handed it to Harry. "Dreamless sleep. Try to use it sparingly; the instructions are on the label. I trust that you can read?"

"Yes...thanks," Harry managed to say, Snape just kept on surprising him tonight.

"I will escort you back to your dorm, then," Severus said and gestured Harry to get up.

Harry finished up the rest of his cocoa and smacked his lips. He should do this more often. Drink hot cocoa that is, not talk to Snape. There was silence as the two made their way to Gryffindor Tower. Harry felt awkward. He just wasn't used to decent Snape and he wasn't sure what to make of the past half hour. Harry chuckled at the thought of Ron and Hermione's reaction when he tells them what happened.

"Something amusing, Potter?" Severus questioned, looking down to see a smile on Harry's face. Hearing Harry laugh made him feel like he'd accomplished something tonight. Whether the boy took his words to heart or not, he'd at least lifted the boy's spirit.

"Oh, nothing," said Harry as they approached his dorm. "Just thinking of what Ron and Hermione would say if I told them that you caught me out of bounds and I ended up having hot cocoa instead of detention."

"I don't recall saying anything about detention. However, seeing as your rule breaking is linked with insomnia, I will let you off easy today." Severus said as they got to Fat Lady paining, he whispered the password and ushered Harry in.

Harry frowned. "You're not going to take points?"

Severus looked down at the boy. Two months ago, he would have taken off 20 points and gave Harry at least one detention. But things were not the same anymore.

"Next time, Mr. Potter. Now go to bed. Do not let me catch you again Mr. Potter or I will issue a reprimand," Severus warned.

"Yes, sir."

Once Harry was inside, Severus smiled. He felt like he'd accomplished something in their short conversation. He may not turn out to be Harry's confidant, but he was pleased that he could guide Harry in the direction of one.

The Potions Master turned and strolled leisurely back to his quarters.

After much thought, Harry did talk with Ron and Hermione. He wasn't sure if they really understood how scary it was being the Boy Who Lived. But they tried their best to support him and to take his mind off the bad things. They helped him contact Sirius through the floo. Even Hermione, who was always the worrywart and party pooper, helped out. Talking with Sirius face to face and hearing his godfather laugh calmed him down and Harry's mood improved immensely after that.

On the advice of his godfather and friends, Harry decided not to antagonize Umbridge. It was a hard task, seeing as how the witch was strutting around the school like she owned it. And Harry was never good at keeping a low profile. He'd excelled at it with the Dursleys, but he'd had years of practice. Hogwarts was another matter, the troublesome boy had developed a knack for drawing attention when he was at school.

Harry occupied his free time drawing up lesson plans for D.A., which in Harry's month long absence hand been kept in tip top shape by Hermione and Ginny. Harry was rather impressed with the progress they were making. Despite a couple of close calls with Filch and Umbridge, it was going swell. And with Snape no longer giving Harry hell every time they met, fifth year was turning out better than it started.

So, it had to take an accidental de-aging for Snape to finally stop being a git to Harry. The Slytherin professor no longer looked at Harry like the child was the bane of his life and in response, Harry began to feel much more relaxed around Snape. Potions class were more bearable, even if it was with the Slytherins and Harry was still pants at it.

As his mood lightened, the bad dreams became less frequent. Only now his dreams were filled with images and flashes of his time as a baby. They became so vivid and the emotions so real that Harry was almost convinced that they were memories.

In the past Harry's nightmares of Voldemort often made him nauseous, angry and sick. Now the emotions of comfort and happiness he experienced during the dreams carried over into his waking hours. When he saw Snape, he felt odd feelings of trust and security. Harry supposed that it was a nice feeling, but one that he was strikingly unfamiliar with.

When Harry consulted Ron and Hermione about his odd dreams, they suggested that these were not your regular dreams. Well, he kind of had that figured.

"It's magic of course," Ron explained one evening at supper, as matter-of-factly. "You were de-aged, you weren't really 15 months old. Not, you know, naturally 15 months old. So, obviously it's the magic that's making you remember."

Ron's hypothesis sounded very plausible to Harry. "Yeah, that makes sense, I guess," he responded.

Hermione, on the other hand had a very different interpretation of Harry's dreams. She, being a girl and being Hermione, had delved deeper and went all psychological on the boys. "When you were a baby, you saw Professor Snape as your dad. You were so attached to him that you'd cry if he was gone for any length of time. Subconsciously, you miss him. Furthermore, because you can't consciously remember anything, your longing manifest themselves in dreams."

Harry had to take a moment to figure out what Hermione meant. "Soooo?"

"So, you're conflicted because you remember Professor Snape as two different people. One as your father and the other as the potions master you hated."

"Annnd?"

"Well it's obvious isn't it," Hermione announced. "You remember two Professor Snape, but you want the one who you feel connected to. You want him as your dad."

Ron laughed out loud, very nearly choking on his pumpkin juice.

Harry shook his head. "Dad? Hermione, you have got to be kidding me! Besides, what did I know, I was barely one years old."

"Well, as far as you knew, he was your dad," Hermione replied adamantly. "Or maybe, not as far as a dad. Maybe as your mentor or something. Like Sirius or Dumbledore or…."

Harry cut her off, "Mmnn…no. Just no."

When Harry was a child he craved affection. He would look at all the other kids and couldn't understand why his family didn't love him. Then he came to Hogwarts, where he made real friends and met people who cared about him, loved him even. There were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, Hagrid. Professor Dumbledore, even Professor McGonagall and of course, the best friends a kid could ask for. Then there was Snape ,the man who had made it a hobby to put him down. Now, Harry reckoned that other than his parents (the Dursleys notwithstanding), Snape was probably the only one who looked after him for any length of time. Oh the irony.

"What about Sirius? If anyone's like a dad to me, it's Sirius."

"I know, but Sirius wasn't the one who looked after you for a month."

"But I bet he wanted to. He can't help it if he's been wrongfully convicted and is running for his life."

"Harry, I'm not asking you to start calling him dad or anything. I'm just saying he was fatherly to you. And maybe some part of you still want that from him."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know Harry. But all of these dreams you're having has to mean something."

"You sound like Trelawney."

"I do not!"

"Whatever," Harry finished. He frowned and looked up at the staff table where Snape sat. It still felt bizarre that one side of him still did not trust Snape and another side of him yearned for something akin to fatherly love.

o0oo0oo0oo0o

Four weeks after Harry's recovery and just as he was getting back to a life of semi-normality, things got complicated again. You see, Harry woke up in the middle of the night, reeling from a dream.

Strangely, this dream had nothing to do with his usual nightmares of Voldemort or dementors. Harry had taken the dreamless sleep potion offered to him. Although that stopped his nightmares, it did' seem to stop all dreams like it was supposed to do.

The dream he had tonight wasn't bad. Harry had dreamt himself crying, then getting picked up and rocked by his mother. He remembered feeling as content as a baby could and lying his head on the gentle curve of his mother's arm and falling asleep to her voice. Though all the words sounded like gibberish. Then he looked up and instead of his mother, he saw Snape. More bizarrely, the dream Harry wasn't shocked or frightened, but snuggled deeper into the man chest.

That was when Harry woke and couldn't get back to sleep. He hadn't the foggiest whether the dream was a memory or a figment of his imagination. Could the dream really been reality? It wasn't the first time he remembered something from when he was a year old. After tossing and turning in bed for nearly an hour, Harry gave up and sat up in bed. The only light in the room came from the half-moon shining through the windows. Beside him, Ron was snoring loudly and all his housemates were sound asleep.

The Gryffindor swung his legs off the bed, put on slippers and slipped on a jacket. He grabbed his wand and the marauder's map and ventured out into the hall and casted a dim light. Walking settled his mind, especially in the quiet halls of Hogwarts at night, when there was no one to stare at him or gossip about him. He was more careful this time, brining he Marauders map with him, so he didn't run into Snape again.

Feeling significantly better already, Harry picked up his speed and took his attention off the map for but a minute when…

"Mr. Potter. Do you ever intend to follow the rules of curfew?" said an unmistakably silky voice.

Harry swung his body around to find Snape standing there with a light glowing from his wand.

Harry gulped. "Professor. I…I'm sorry."

"Couldn't sleep again, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, concerned.

Harry shook his head, but he was rather surprised at the professor's tone of voice. Usually, Snape would immediately yell at him, take points and drag him back to Gryffindor tower while sounding off his many in competencies. But, now the man sounded like he was worried. Maybe it was sleep deprived brain playing tricks on him.

"Did you drink the dreamless sleep?"

"Yes, sir. I did but…"

"That should have stopped you from having any more nightmares."

"It wasn't a nightmare…really, sir," said Harry, hunching his shoulders. "It was…it was just strange, that's all. You were in it and I was…a baby."

Severus didn't know what to say. There was silence for a long time, as student and teacher, stood facing each other, neither knowing quite exactly what to say.

"Was it a …" Severus began. Was it a nightmare? He dreaded to know. "…nightmare?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "not exactly, sir"

Severus frowned. What did that mean?

"Not exactly? What was this dream about?" Severus asked, though he suspected that the dream was not a pleasant one.

Harry lifted his eyes to look at his professor. Wondering if the professor was asking him or ordering him to answer? He was still utterly bewildered by the dream. It was probably just nothing. Strange things happened in dreams; the unbelievable, unfathomable, and physically impossible things were possible in dreams. Despite Harry's attempts to convince himself that it was just a silly dream, the boy had a sense that it wasn't just a dream.

"You do not have to answer, Potter."

Harry continued to look at Severus and Severus could see the conflict in the teenager's eyes. He was confused and very apprehensive. Then, the boy looked away.

"Forget it, Mr. Potter," Severus sighed. Of course it would be a bad dream, what did he expect? He had secretly hoped Harry would choose him as his confidant. The hope was unrealistic and absurd. Five years of belittling and torment could not be made erased just like that. There was no way he expected the boy to share anything with him, especially when he had so many other people in position to offer assistance and advice.

The dream was clearly a bad one, and the boy was just too afraid to tell him. For the first time in a week, Severus felt ashamed of himself because of Harry.

"Let's get you back to your dormitory. You should not be out of bed at this hour, Mr. Potter. You should know that by now."

They exchanged no more words as they travelled the long halls back to Gryffindor Tower. Severus spent the whole time wishing the de-aging had never happened, wishing that he had refused to babysit Harry. Then, none of these feelings would exist and he would have such a bloody heart…headache.

When they arrived at the tower, Severus promptly took five points from Gryffindor. He turned with grace and marched down the hall with billowing robes.

Harry grumbled under his breath at the lost points, but was thankful it wasn't anymore. He honestly suspected Snape to take at least twenty and give him detention.

"Professor Snape? Wait." Harry shouted after Severus when he was half way down the hall. Severus turned and arched a questioning eyebrow at Harry.

"It was a good dream."

Severus nodded. He showed no outward expression but his heart was filled with relief.

o0oo0oo0oo0o

It has been several weeks since Harry recovered and the teen decided that whatever happened, happened and there was no reason why he couldn't enjoy things the way it is now. One less person in the world that hated him was one less person he had to worry about. If only he could get Umbridge to like him, as disturbing as the image that invokes. Curiously, the idea of hugging Snape wasn't as ghastly as the idea of hugging Umbridge.

It was now late November and the snow was piled up to Hagrid's knees. Harry joined his housemates in the Quidditch field, making snowmen and flinging snowballs at each other in an epic combat. Then, somebody suggested that take the battle to the sky. Harry didn't know how it would work, but he raced off to grab his Firebolt anyway.

Taking the stairs two at a time, the Gryffindor was in and out of his dorm within seconds. Tearing back through the halls, Harry ran straight into a statue, his shoes squeaked on the floor and he felt backwards on his bum.

"Oof."

"Potter, for heaven's sake, watch where you are going!"

Harry looked up to see it was not an immovable statue that he'd run into, it was the potions master.

"Sorry professor," Harry apologized sheepishly as he got up and tried in vain to dust the dirt off of his robes, which were now mud thanks to his wet clothes. "Sorry."

"No harm done," Severus grunted, scanning the dishevelled teenager in front of him. "Enjoying the snow, are we?"

"Ah, yes sir," Harry replied in a fluster. "I love the snow."

"I can see that," Severus grumbled, shaking his head at the state of Harry's clothes. He took out his wand and gave it a quick swish and flick.

Immediately, Harry felt goosebumps over every inch of his skin. "Bloody…"

"Language!" Severus warned. He pocked his wand and crossed his arms. "Better?"

Harry looked down at his robes and ran his hands over his arms and torso.

"I'm dry!" He proclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, Potter. Madam Pomfrey has 9 patients to keep her busy around the clock, all suffering from the flu. She does not need another patient, especially if that patient is you. At least try to stay out of her infirmary. You've been in there more than enough times this year and it is not yet mid-term."

"I…yeah, sorry," Harry mumbled guiltily.

"Good," Severus nodded curtly. "I haven't seen you out of bounds yet. Does this mean you are no longer breaking that particular rule, or have you only gotten better at eluding detection?"

Harry shook his head, "No. I've been sleeping better. The potion helped."

"How much have you used?"

"Nearly all of it now."

"Very well, come to my office tonight. I will give you some more."

"Really?"

"That's what I said. However, you should not rely on the potion to do the work for you. Dreamless sleep masks the symptoms, it does not solve the problem," Severus stressed.

"I know. But I haven't had to use the potion all that much. I drank most of it in the first week, but, I haven't needed so much since," said Harry. "I guess I haven't thanked you for this yet, sir. But you were right, talking to my friends did help."

Severus nodded in acknowledgement. "Now all you have to do is find an adult to talk to."

"That's easier said than done, sir." Harry replied. "Um, sir? I was wondering…?"

"Wondering what?"

"Could it…I mean, is it possible that I could remember what happened when I was de-aged. I mean, during the time I was de-aged."

Severus shook his head. "It is unlikely, why do you ask."

"I remember…some things," Harry began.

"You do?" Severus asked, intrigued. It wasn't unheard of for de-aged patients to have two sets of memories. One set of original memories and one set from their de-aging experience. This created turmoil in the individual and often led to denial and rejection of one of the memory, more often than not the de-aging memory was the one to be discarded. But Harry was de-aged to such a young age. How could he possibly remember anything?

"Yeah. I mean, at least I think so."

"Explain."

"Well, I've been having these dreams," Harry began tentatively. He wasn't sure if he was ready to tell Snape about the dreams. "Not bad once, not nightmares I mean...they're dreams about you. "

Severus' brows bumped together in a frown. "The same as the ones you had when I caught you out of bounds a two weeks ago?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry. "But I feel like that these aren't normal dreams. They feel more like memories."

Severus thought for a moment before responding. "How do you know these are memories and not just dreams?"

"I don't know. That's just it, it's really confusing. The dreams…memories, they are really vivid. But I don't know what to make of them. It's just…I don't know, I've just got this feeling."

"You have…a feeling?" The potions master asked, intrigued.

"Yea...can I go now sir?" Harry asked, suddenly dropping the matter entirely. He bowed his head and avoided looking in Snape's direction.

Severus wanted the pursue a line of questioning but sensed that wasn't going to get anything else out of Harry.

"Alright. Get along now, child."

Harry flashed a small smile. "Thanks, sir," the Gryffindor ran past the Potions Master.

Snape nodded again.

Harry ran off, positioning his Firebolt so that he could mount it as soon as he was outside.

The potions master couldn't help but wonder if stranger things will happen before the school year is over. "

"You are welcome, Harry," Severus said as he watched the Gryffindor run and looked out to see the boy take to the sky on his firebolt.

Time flew by and Christmas - the most wonderful time of the year - was just around the corner. Hogwarts was once again decorated with fairy lights and garlands. An enormous tree was erected in the Great Hall and adorned with ribbons ad brightly coloured ornaments of all shapes and sizes. Many of the statues were charmed to sing tunes of the Yuletide, much to the annoyance of Severus. The Potions Master's private quarters remained, for the most part, un-festive.

On Christmas Day, Severus chose to attend the staff party this year, under the condition that nobody forced him to partake in any juvenile games.

At Grimmauld Place, Harry was pacing up and down his room, with a serious dilemma on his hands

Everybody was downstairs having fun, Harry could hear everyone chatting and laughing. The Twins were making a ruckus and he could hear Mrs. Weasley yelling at them to pipe down. He'd excused himself ten minutes before, saying he had forgotten to do something.

He ran up to his room, opened his backpack and brought out a card. He tore opened he windows and hollered for Hedwig. His faithful owl was there in under a minute, flapping snow into his face.

"Hedwig, stop stop! It's freezing. Come inside," Harry shivered, but Hedwig only ruffled her feathers and stood on the window sill. She clicked her beak a Harry and kept her behind stuck defiantly out the open window. Harry grumbled and moved to the far side of the room, away from the wind.

The teen looked down at the envelope in his hands. He had thought for a long time about what he was about to do next, which was to send a card to Snape. It had taken him a week to decide on buying the bloody card. He spent hours thinking of what to write on it.

It was six o'clock, supper was almost ready and Harry expected somebody to call for him any minute now. If he didn't send the card now, chances are he won't get another chance until after the party. If he waited any longer, he'd probably chicken out and chuck the card away. Plus, if he didn't send the card now, Snape won't receive I until tomorrow. If he was going to send a Christmas card to Snape of all people, he'd at least wanted it to be delivered on Chrismas.

But should he really send it? Did Snape even get Chrismas cards? What if Snape hated Christmas and hated getting cards. What if….

"Oi! Hedwig come back!" Harry shouted after his rebellious owl as she flew inside and snatched the envelope right out of his hands. He ran to the window. "Hedwig! I changed my mind! Get back here you stupid…."

But Hedwig was gone.

"….bird." Harry trailed off and planed his forehead into the hand that was holding the letter.

"Harry!" Shouted Ron from downstairs. "Mom says supper's ready!"

"Alright, alright," Harry shouted back. He made a noise that was somewhere between a groan, a sign and a whine. He pulled he window shut and tousled his hair with his hands. I'm just going to go kill myself now.

"What were you doing?" asked Ron when Harry appeared in the dining room.

"Nothing," Harry said, shaking his head and smiling at his best friend.

"Well, come on then, before all the food's gone!"

The Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Ron and Hermione were all seated at around a long table. It was utter chaos. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were trying to get everyone settled down. Harry smiled broadly as he took a seat next to Ron and Fred. Within five minutes, he'd forgotten all about Snape.

Christmas was not Severus' favourite time of the year. He found the holiday bothersome. People seemed to suffer thorough days of stress, only to be rewarded with a few hours of celebration, before they are back to stressing again.

His colleagues tried to coerce him into Christmas parties ever year. Although he occasionally attended the gatherings, he preferred to stay home. As for the tradition of gifting, Severus found that most of his associates were terrible at deducing what he wanted. He was equally bad at gifting others. But he supposed that it was the thought that counted. Most of his gifts were from fellow professors and old friends. Once in a blue moon, he would receive a small token or a card from a student or past graduate.

He had just returned from the staff party, stomach full of turkey and whisky. There was a small stack of four or five cards floating by his door – last minute deliveries, probably from those who only sent the card out of some misplaced sense of obligation.

Severus snatched the cards from the air and entered his rooms. He opened each one, sparing but a glance at the names on the cards. There was no one of significance. Then he came on the last card and recognized the messy writing on the plain envelope.

No, it can't be, thought Severus. He opened the envelope hastily, but with more care than he did with the others. An ordinary Christmas card slipped out into his hands. Severus opened the thin, laminated piece of cardboard.

To Professor Snape,

Thank you for taking care of me. Have a good holiday.

Merry Christmas,

Harry Potter

The note was short and simple, but Severus clutched the card in his calloused hands as if it was treasure.

Harry had a descent haul of presents this year, a jumper from Mrs and Mr. Weasley, books from Hermione, and a whoopee cushion from Ron, just to name a few. His most prized gift was miniature Quidditch set from an anonymous source. Harry had gotten the package the two days after Christmas. It was wrapped in brown paper and came with a small tag that said; You are welcome. Merry Christmas.

Harry had gotten quite a few extravagant, yet anonymous gifts before. His Invisibility Cloak, his Nimbus 2000, and his Firebolt all came from nameless donors – though Harry knew exactly who they were from. At first, Harry, as well as Ron and Hermione thought it might be from Professor Dumbledore. But the headmaster had gotten him a signed gift as well, 2 boxes of limited edition sweets from Honeydukes.

"Maybe he doesn't want everyone to know because they'll accuse him of favouritism," said Fred.

"Oh, don't be silly," Hermione countered. "Professor Dumbledore doesn't show Harry favouritism."

"Whatever you say, dear Hermione," said George with sarcastic affection.

"Who do you reckon it's from then?" Ron asked, playing with one of the setting and didn't wait for Harry to answer before exclaiming, "Hey look! It says here we can set it to stage 99 gameplays from the Quidditch Cup! They're two to ten minutes each! "

"Woah!" said Fred and George simultaneously.

"Some gift you got there, Harry," said Sirius, walking into the room to see what the fuss was all about. "I'm only sorry I didn't get it for you."

"It's alright, Sirius. I love your present," Harry said quickly.

"Yea, but it's nothing compared to this thing," Sirius confessed as he bent down over the contraption and look at it from several angles. "Quite a piece of work this is. I never had anything like this when I was a kid."

"Yea, it's pretty cool huh."

"Are you kidding? It's great! Who's it from?"

"Um…" Harry stammered. He had an idea who it might be from. But he didn't think Sirius would be too pleased to hear the answer. "I'm not sure. There wasn't a name."

"Let me see."

Harry showed him the tag.

"Hmm…very mysterious. Well it wasn't me."

Harry shrugged, looking at Sirius.

"Whoever it was from, they are at least a little bit well off. I mean, a thing like this must have cost a pretty knut," Sirius appraised.

"Yea," Harry answered, turning back to watch the figurines fly around the board. Was this really from Professor Snape? Why would he spend this kind of money on me? Was he well off? He didn't look like it. At last, Harry thought with a bit of embarrassment. I didn't even get him anything except for a lousy card from the SickleLand!

The others were not as preoccupied with the identity of the gifter. Ron and the Twins were in absolute awe and spent hours toying around with it, reading the manual and exploring all the features. Ginny got her hands on it too, but wasn't nearly as impressed as the boys. Hermione, on the other hand, was much more interested in reading and chatting with Ginny.

"I can't believe it's over already!" Ron groaned. "I don't want to go back to school. I wish it was Christmas forever."

The trio was back in Hogwarts, and so was everyone else. The school was bustling with students again. The halls were filled with chattering girls and boy. In the dormitories, friends showed off what they got and those from privileged families boasted about their expensive gifts to jealous housemates.

At least a dozen Gryffidors were squeezed together, hovering around a table and gushing in envy at Harry's prize.

"Woah, Harry, you're so lucky!"

"Wait till Malfoy sees this!"

"Can I borrow it, Harry. Please, please, please?"

"I saw this at on display at Quality Quidditch Supplies! They don't have this at any of the toy stores!"

"I asked me mom for one, she said no way!"

Their Quiddtich captain, Angelina, was thrilled when she discovered that one of those features in the set included game planning and strategy. She begged Harry to let her use it, saying that it could win them games. Harry agreed to let her borrow it, but reminded her that he was in no way donating the set to the team.

The days settled back in to their normal routine, despite the grumbles of Ron. Harry was running to meet his friends in the Quidditch field for the first practice after the holiday. He rounded a corner, firebolt in hand and …

"Woah!"

"Mr. Potter! Watch where you are going!" Severus chided when he nearly received a chest full of Gryffindor.

"Sorry," Harry apologized quickly, stepping back. Potions class didn't start for another two days, and Harry hadn't seen his professor at all during the three days he had been back.

"Why is it that you are always in such a hurry and never looking where you are going?"

"Sorry, professor. I'm just late for my Quidditch practice."

"I see. If you can't be punctual to your won Quidditch practice….I have little hope that you will be punctual for anything. Such as handing in the homework I assigned in last class?"

Harry gave Severus a lighthearted defiant look. "I've finished it," he announced proudly.

"Have you? And done properly?" The words rolled off Severus' tongue.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, this is a surprise. But I'll have to see, won't I. Your definition of 'proper' is far from accurate," the Potions Master replied, crossing his arms.

Harry did finish the homework. Potions class wasn't like it used to be, and although it was still a struggle, Harry knew he could do better if he wanted to. He had worked harder on it than he would have last year. He reasoned that it was because OWLs was this year. If he wanted to be an Auror like his parents, he needed an E in Potions. From what he learned from Hermione, they were like the GCSE. So it was probably important to at least try to get a decent grade and the first step to a decent exam grade was actually do research on his homework.

What the teenager refused to acknowledge was, he wanted to do well because he wanted to surprise Snape. He wanted to receive praise his good work. He wanted to do so well on it, that the professor would have no choice but to give him an O.

But what did he want to prove? Why did he want Snape's approval?

Up until three months ago, Harry had every intention to drop Potions for sixth year. He had already decided on a year of lackluster performance in potions class, skirting by just enough so that he didn't end up in detention. What was the point of trying when he would fail anyway - more so due to the sabotage attempts of the Slytherins than his own demerit.

The relationship between the two had changed from one of loathing and suspicion into one of concern and tentative trust. Harry wasn't willing to face the conflicting feelings he had for Snape. However, he was heading in a direction that seemed to invite familiarity rather than hostility.

"I did finish it. You'll see."

Severus nodded curtly and accepted Harry's word for now. "Did you enjoy your holidays?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, sir. How was yours?" Harry asked shyly.

"As well as it could have been, Mr. Potter. Thank you for asking. Did you get all the things you wanted?"

"Yea. I guess. I don't know what I want half the time."

"Don't you?"

"I'm still getting used to the idea, sir." Harry knew he shouldn't be. He's had five years now to get used to the idea of getting real presents for Christmas and birthdays. You'd think he'll be used to concept and practice. But he wasn't.

"Used to the idea of what?" Severus inquired.

"Nothing. Nothing," said Harry hastily, his eyes darting away.

Severus frowned but didn't press the issue.

"I've never met a teenager who doesn't know what he wants for Christmas."

"I never know what I want," Harry said with a shrug. His upraising wasn't exactly proper, but one thing the Dursleys did teach him was manners. It was rude not to thank someone who'd given you a gift, even if it was a coat hanger. He shuffled his feet and began cautiously.

"I…I got something really special this year though. But there was no name or a card, just a tag. So I'm not exactly sure who gave it to me."

Severus expression didn't change at all (it almost never did). "Is that so?"

"But. If…I mean, if I did know. I'd say thank you. It was a very nice present. All my friends wish they had it."

"You like it?"

"Yes. It must have been expensive though," Harry said, biting his lower lip. "People shouldn't spend that kind of money on me. I don't deserve it."

"If they meant for you to have it, then obviously they think you deserve it," Severus said.

Harry looked up at his professor and searched his expression. "Yea…I guess you're right. But I didn't get anything for him them though. Only a stupid card."

"I am certain it was much appreciated. It is the thought that counts the most, Mr. Potter. Not the extravagance of the gift."

The Gryffindor's ears turned red. He was terribly embarrassed about the whole conversation…it was very awkward trying to beat around the bush and speaking about a person in third person, when that person involved is right in front of you.

"Do you think so?" Harry asked.

"I know so."

The silence that followed dragged on for eons.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Mr. Potter?"

Harry seemed to forget he had a broom in his hands and was late for Quidditch . "Right. Yea. Uh…I guess, I'll see you in class, professor."

"Enjoy your weekend, Mr. Potter. See you Monday."

Harry ran down the hall, trying hard to not think about Snape by thinking about how annoyed Angelina would be about his tardiness.

The day started out fine until Draco fouled up Harry's potion and sent everyone in the classroom into nitrous oxide induced laughing fits. Severus was livid. After he had stopped laughing for long enough to properly oxygenate the room, he regained his composure and dismissed the class.

Harry was told to stay behind. The Gryffindor assumed that he was being blamed for the mishap and was going to get a private scolding before being propelled into the hospital wing for his burned hands, a result of the potion boiling over.

However, Severus surprised him by taking him gently by the arm and guiding him through a door that led them into his private quarters. He instructed Harry to go sit by the table and wait for him, while he disappeared into into a storage room.

Harry obeyed meekly, shuffling his feet towards where Severus had pointed, to the same chair he had sat on the last time he was there. He pulled out the chair and deposited his bottom on the edge of it, waiting in awkward silence and grimacing at the sting in his hands.

Severus returned with a towel, an empty brass bowl and a vial of potion in his hands. He set the bowl on the table and proceeded to pour the translucent liquid into it. Then, he took Harry's hands gingerly, careful not to cause more damage, and lowered them into the liquid.

"Essence of Murtlap. The burns are not bad; you'll only need to soak them once. Try to relax your hand. Open your palms, and keep them in for ten minutes." Severus said evenly.

"Thank you, sir." Harry sighed with relief as his hands stopped stinging.

Severus acknowledged the courtesy with a nod.

"You did well on your homework, Mr. Potter. I am impressed," said the professor as he dried his hands on a towel and sat down to wait for the potion to take effect.

Harry looked up in shock at the unusual compliment. "I did?"

Severus nodded tersely. "An 'E', How did you ever manage it?"

"I guess I just tried for once," Harry answered honestly.

"Keep trying. I was also surprised by your brewing today. Before Mr. Malfoy threw the extra ingredients into your cauldron, it was at least an 'Acceptable'."

"You noticed Malfoy, sir?"

"I always notice what happens in my classroom."

"Oh…okay."

"I regret not curbing Mr. Malfoy and his friends of his bad habit before. I intend to do so henceforth."

"Does that mean you'll stop him from ruining my potions now?"

"There will be no more offences of such types by anyone, on anyone," Severus said seriously.

"Cool."

Severus smirked. "Indeed. As for your performance, it shows me that you are capable of learning in my class. I admit; in the past, your mediocrity was partly my doing. However, from now on, I expect you to apply yourself in far greater degree. Now that you have proven you can do well, I will expect nothing less, Mr. Potter."

Severus only grazed over his hand in Harry's poorness in potions. Reluctantly, he acknowledged the possibility that Harry had been hopeless in potions because he was had been unfair.

Harry wasn't sure how quite to react to what his professor just said. With his head cast downward, the boy peeked up at his intimidating professor.

Severus continued without waiting for an answer. "You are far from getting into N.E.W.T. But if you keep up this kind of work ethic, you won't be far off."

Harry nodded, bubbling with faint pride. He decided right then and there that he wanted to do even better in potions class. "You know," he said, raising his head up slightly. "You're not as scary as everyone says."

Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry's unexpected remark.

"Well you are. But…you're not as mean… I mean, you're not as…you," Harry stuttered, struggling to find the right words. "Sorry. Let me start over. I used to think you were evil….but…you're…not?"

Severus snorted. "Is that an opinion or a question?"

Harry's face turned red. "Sorry. Neither. It's…it's an observation and…experience."

Severus tried not to smirk at Harry's obvious discomfort. Realizing that this was clearly a sensitive issue to the boy, he responded with care.

"I gave you enough reasons to distrust me, Mr. Potter."

"Yea, you did. I was frightened of you for a long time," Harry confessed, looking down at the murtlap that was healing his hands. "Especially first year. You were really intimidating…" Harry trailed off.

"And…?"

"And…uh...to be honest, I kind of got used to it. I'd complain about you with my friends and we'd be miserable together. I tried not to piss you off though…"

"Language."

"Sorry," Harry corrected himself. "I tried not to make you angry with me, but…it seemed like that you were always angry with me."

Severus sighed. "I admit that I had been prejudice. However, I was not always angry with you. More often than not, I was infuriating..situations. I allowed my frustration to be directed at you."

"I guess I just rub you the wrong way, huh?"

"To put in plebian terms, yes. "

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, "It's okay. It's not like you're the only one. I don't get along with lots of people, all the time. Almost everybody judges me unfairly. Everybody thought I was the next Voldemort when they found out I was a Parselmouth, Then everyone thought I cheated to get into the Triwizard. Now everyone thinks I'm crazy for saying that Voldemort's back. As long as that sad cow Rita Skeeter doesn't print anything in the bloody Daily Prophet…"

"Potter! Language. I will not tell you again!"

"Sorry," Harry apologized, inclining his head and huffed in frustration. "Well, you know what. I don't care what they think anymore. It's too much bother. Even my aunt and uncle treat me like total crap."

"Your aunt and uncle?"

"Never mind, it's nothing." Harry retreated and changed the subject hastily.

"Um, Professor Dumbledore said that you were really good with me and that I would cry when you were gone for too long…" Harry never wanted to facedesk so badly. the Gryffindor groaned inwardly as his face and ears turned into a deep shade of red.

An awkward silence forced its way onto the scene. Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Each second that ticked by seem like an eternity to the Gryffindor.

Severus blinked several times, starring at Harry from across the table.

When the man recovered from the shock, he cleared his throat before answering."Indeed. You did."

"I...must have liked you?"

"You did. After a while, I began to enjoy your company too," Severus said.

Harry managed a snicker. "You can hardly call babysitting a baby company. I'm sorry if I was a bother."

"You were surprisingly tolerable as a toddler," said Severus with a hint of fondness in his voice as he recalled the times he spent with baby Harry.

Harry scoffed and said without thinking, his tone dripping with chilly sarcasm, "That's not what my relatives say." The teenager seemed to go into a state of woolgathering as his mood changed abruptly.

"What do your relatives say?" Severus ventured. He had noticed hints of hostility when Harry talked about his relatives. It was more and more clear to him that they did not get along as well as he had assumed.

"I'm useless freak," Harry responded distantly, forgetting for a moment where he was at and who he was talking to. "I should never have been born. I'm bastard and a rotten burden."

Silence set in again as Severus took in what Harry had unintentionally revealed. All this time he had thought Harry grew up being catered to like a little prince. Severus had begun to doubt everything he ever knew, suspected or assumed about Harry Potter. He grew fond of Harry when the boy was de-aged and that gave him the opportunity to see the child in a new light when he was a teenager again. Over the past months, he tried not to judge Harry solely by his parentage but to work out who Harry was as his own person.

Severus had leaned many things. Such as; Harry was not a bad student, he was not arrogant and far from being a bully, Harry readily stood up for the lower years. Harry was not ill-mannered or conceited. Severus was pleased with his discoveries, because a part of him wanted the child he cared for, to become an proper, upstanding young man.

Now it appears another assumption was wrong.

It took a few seconds more for Harry to snap out of his distraction and become aware of his words. "I...I should go," Harry gasped, lifting his hands out of the murtlap.

Before Severus could take action, Harry jumped up and ran straight for the door. In his haste to get out, Harry's hip collided straight into a table holding the dragon statuette. He went crashing down over the table, the fragile crystal dragon smashed onto the floor, spilling into jagged pieces of broken glass. Harry gasped as he put out his hands to catch himself and braced for pain as he fell into the sharp crystals.

Not even the potions professor's quick reflexes prevented Harry from getting glass embedded in his skin. Harry tumbled over the table and crashed onto the floor. Severus was at his side immediately. The tall wizard grabbed Harry by the armpits and hauled him onto his feet.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry," Harry blurted, looking down at the now broken keepsake. "I didn't mean. I didn't see it."

"Are you alright?

"I'm sorry."

"Harry, are you hurt? Let me see," Severus turned Harry's hands around to look for any cuts. Both of the boy's hands were bloodied, the cuts did not look long or deep, but it was over half healed burns. The former babysitter grimaced at the red and painful looking sores.

"Careless! You could have been cut badly!" Severus scolded, giving Harry a stern look. But Harry looked up at his professor, wide eyed and jaw open.

"You called me Harry."

Severus shook his head and took a deep breath. His heart was beginning to slow down from its sudden and violent acceleration. Why? How was it possible that he could care so much?

"Come back and sit down," he said, grabbing Harry by the wrist.

Harry resisted Severus' pull. "No, I'm fine. I should go."

"Nonsense. You're bleeding, you have glass all over your hands," Severus said as steered him back towards the table.

"No. It's really okay. I can go to the hospital wing," Harry struggled.

"Sit down, and wait here. Don't move," Severus instructed as he headed for his storage room for a first aid kit, for the second time that afternoon.

Harry slumped over in the chair, holding his sore hands on his knees, palms up.

Severus returned in seconds with clean cloth and tweezers. Harry groaned.

"I will have to take the large pieces out by hand. Afterwards, you will need to soak your hands in the murtlap solution for another fifteen minutes. It will take out any small shards and heal the cuts."

"I'm sorry about your statue."

Severus looked over at the mess and back to Harry's hands. "It's not important. A simple reparo will mend it." He said, taking one of Harry's hands in his and started removing the larger pieces of glass. Thankfully, none of them were larger a centimeter.

"Now, we have some things to discuss. And you may not like it, but I want the truth out of you, do you understand?" Severus said calmly.

No fair, thought Harry. Snape was taking advantage of his state to ask him questions he didn't want to answer. Why hadn't he been more careful! He'd be out of here already and wouldn't have to answer anything Snape asked him.

"Yes sir," Harry complied, wincing slightly at the sting.

"What you said earlier, Potter. Was it true?"

Harry nodded reluctantly.

"You don't get along with you aunt and uncle?" Severus asked, choosing his words wisely.

"And Dudley."

"Who is that?"

"Dudley. He's my cousin. I don't get on with him either."

"And by 'don't get along', mean?"

"He used to push me around before Hogwarts. But now, he's all scared that I'd turn him into a pig. And I told them that Sirius is an escaped convict and was very protective of me."

Severus finished with Harry's left hand dipped it into the murtlap. He moved on to Harry's right hand.

"And your aunt and uncle, do they push you around too?"

"They don't hit me," said Harry adamantly.

"You're lying," Severus said laconically.

"He doesn't hit me, anymore."

"Meaning they used to?"

"So what? It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, child."

"All they do now is yell and call me names and lock me in my room," Harry said angrily.

Severus eyed Harry with a calculating look. He was certain that there was more to the story than what Harry was willing to share.

"There's nothing I can do about it. I'm stuck with them. What is it to you anyway?"

"You are not, as you say, 'stuck with them'. As for me, I am you professor, so it is my duty to…"

"Well, you've not cared bollocks about me before."

"Things are not the same as, before."

"They are to me."

Severus furrowed his eyebrows. He put down the tweezers and put Harry's hand in the bowl. "You are not wrong," he confirmed. "A few months months ago I cared very little about you beyond making sure you didn't sustain any life threatening injuries. But that is no longer the case, I think you know that."

Harry shrugged quickly, keeping his head turned away from Severus. Instead, he glared at the murtlap as it wash the blood away.

"I have to go back each and every summer. Professor Dumbledore says that I need the blood protection."

"You are right, the blood protection is important. That being said, your physical and emotional welfare is also important. Have you ever spoken to Professor Dumbledore about the actions of your relatives?"

"I told him that I didn't want to go back."

"Did you tell him anything else?"

"No…but he knew that I was unhappy with them."

"Professor Dumbledore would have never let you stay if he was aware of your situation."

"It's not so bad," Harry said sadly. It wasn't exactly easy to overcome the conditioning he had I early childhood. Getting presents, people telling him he mattered; caring about his well-being and future – these were all things he never experienced till he was eleven years old. In addition, every summer he got reminded of his worthlessness. When he was with the Durlseys, he felt like a freak. Even though he knew in his head that he wasn't, he never believed it all the way.

"They mostly ignore me these days."

Suddenly, Harry felt emotional. He was upset and angry. Just the thought of the Dursleys filled him with resentment and he hated himself for feeling that way about his family. The logical side of his brain told him that he was right; the Dursleys were good for nothing pricks. But still, they were family, the only ones he had left.

"I don't want to go back to them," Harry said loudly. "I hate them so much! But I have to go back…"

Severus sympathized for the child, who was so hurt and so lost. He saw none of James Potter in Harry, he hasn't in a while. Today he saw a bit of himself in Harry. Harry's childhood might similar to his own; it was full of neglect and turmoil.

"You do not have to," Severus promised. He put an arm on Harry's shoulder and then tipped the child's chin so the child could look into his eyes. "I don't know what's going on. But I made a solemn promise to your mother before she passed away, that I would watch out for you. Now I am making my solemn promise to you Harry. If you do not want to go back this summer, I can arrange other accommodations that will keep you both safe."

Harry looked up to search the Severus' face and found sincerity and concern. It was an expression Harry had never seen on the mean old potions master, except in his dreams.

"You knew my mum?"

"Yes."

"You called me Harry again."

"Yes."

Two weeks passed after Harry’s revealing conversation with Severus.  Other than a few brief questions and answers about Harry’s mother, neither had spoken of their talk.  But Severus was working very diligently, behind the scenes, to find out exactly what kind of people the Dursleys were.

In Potions after the incident, Draco Malfoy looked positively woeful.  Harry could only assume that Snape made good on his promise.  The Gryffindor couldn’t help but smile with glee, picturing Malfoy getting a tongue lashing.

With Draco subdued for the foreseeable future, Harry was free to concentrate on his work.  He received an ‘Acceptable’ on his in-class assignment. It was nothing to sneeze at, considering his history in the subject.   

Harry and the Potions professor had struck a unique, tentative rapport.  They greeted each other in the hall, and inquired about each other’s day.  Their conversations were brief, no more than an exchange of pleasantries. Severus kept his administrative demeanor in every encounter, but catered just enough as not to scare his young student away.  He remained terrifyingly stern in the classroom and when surrounded by other company.  He did have a reputation to maintain.

Severus was still himself. He remained partial to his own House and discriminatory to Gryffindor.  He hadn’t lost that hard-edged disposition and scathing criticism.  However, he had let go the vicious, spiteful nature that used to epitomise his personality.

As for Harry, he went on about his days as usual. He found his brief encounters with his once hated professor decidedly good. One thing continued to trouble the Gryffindor boy. Every night, his head filled with dreams.  Harry didn’t particularly mind the dreams because the left him feeling a strange, familiar sense of comfort and contentment. What bothered him was the unknown.

Even taking dreamless sleep did not help.  Dreamless sleep potion was powerful stuff, but apparently, whatever de-aging magic that was causing him to remember was more powerful.  

Finally, Harry couldn’t help it anymore. He had to know. One evening, waiting until the last possible moment - at 9pm - he made his way down to the dungeons to find out once and for all what his dreams were about.

Harry knew he shouldn’t have been out after curfew.  It was just his luck that the Dementors choose that precise moment to attack.

***

Harry walked down the dimly lit corridors and shivered. He hunched his shoulders up and rubbed his arms at the chill that descended.   The cold didn’t concern the Gyffindor as he made his way deeper into Slytherin territory; the dungeons were often damp and chilly.  

Suddenly, Harry stopped in his tracks and looked back, thinking he had heard something. But he there was nothing there.  Harry kept walking.

Ahead of him, shadows seemed seep out of the walls and grow and lengthen like ghosts.  Harry slowed to another stopped, staining his eyes in the dim hall.  There was a crawling sensation down his back.  Something felt out of place. A rapid sensation of fear settled in his gut and Harry instinctively went for his wand.  

“Lumos Maximus,” the boy muttered. Alone in the corridor, he was afraid to speak any louder than a whisper.  His phoenix feather wand activated immediately, and shined a spotlight in the space in front of him. 

But he saw nothing.

The only thing the boy could hear was the sound of his own heart as it galloped against his chest.

That was when the Dementors attacked.  Charging forward, the ghostly figures revealed themselves and sailed towards Harry, emitting a terrible noise - or maybe, that was just Harry, screaming.

***

“Ex… P…tro!”

Severus heard a bone chilling scream, a shout and a spell being cast. He strained to hear what the spell was, but it was muffled.

The combat ready wizard took off running as far as he could towards chilling cries.  A student was being attacked, probably one of the upper years boys by the sound of it. But by who or what?  The screams were terrifying, and reminded Severus of the terrible things he’d seen as a spy.  He hoped that this was a thoughtless prank or maybe a boggart, something innocent that could be easily resolved.

But as he got closer, Severus knew that this was no prank and there was no boggart.  There were Dementors! He could feel them.  Dementors had gotten into Hogwarts! Why would Dementors be… Severus could recognize the voice now….Harry! No!

***

Harry was, unfortunately, all too familiar with the dark creatures.  He had fought them before, had won and lost against them.  Knowing what to do when met with the faceless demons did not make it easy to defeat them.

Nothing was harder than facing Dementors.  Even when he faced Voldemort all those times, and was frightened half to death, he could will himself to think clearly. The Dementors were another story. The monsters played with his mind, projected negative emotions and multiplied them over and over until he couldn’t think of anything but dread and sorrow.

The young Gryffindor held his wand ahead of him with determination.  Harry tried, he really did.  But the Dementors were hungry and strong, and there seemed to be dozens of them. Harry managed to cast two full Patronus that had held the creatures away for a whole minute.  But as his strength drained, Harry stumbled backwards and his Patronus shield flickered. 

Harry had accomplished many things with sheer power of will and determination, with a side of luck. Refusing to give up, he raised his wand with shaky hands and thought of the happiest memory he could.  He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the monsters and focused on finding an image that symbolized sheer happiness.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Harry screamed, putting everything he could into to those words and he felt magic tear out of his wand, towards his enemies.

Before Harry fainted, he realized that he had brought up the image of Snape.

***

Severus twisted around the corner and saw a horde of Dementors at the other end of the hall.  A brilliant light peeked through the mass of dark shadows in what he assumed was Harry’s Patronus. He reached inside his mind and casted his own powerful Patronus charm.  The man squinted his eyes as a blinding light jetted out of his wand and a doe sprang forward, galloping towards the creatures, making them scatter.  His charm was a powerful one and the Dementors shrieked as they swarmed over each other trying to get away.  

When the initial flash faded, Severus opened his eyes.  The Dementors were gone but the feelings of despair lingered.  Severus shook off the despairing sensation as he stared at the scene in front of him. In the middle of the corridor were two deer; a doe and a stag.  They stood facing each other, giving off a warm yellow light. With the Dementors gone and their masters safe, the Patronus touched noses and dissolved, plunging the hall into torch lit darkness. 

Severus lifted his head and looked down the hall.  He saw a body lying in a heap on the floor, robes in a jumble.  He raced forward and knelt next to the boy, his panic felt like waves crashing on rocky seashore. 

“Harry? Harry?”

Severus touched Harry’s cheek and breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt the warmth of a body that still had life and soul.  He picked up the limp form and carried it to the Hospital Wing.

***

“This was not a coincidence,” said Severus, leaning against a wall at the entrance hospital wing.  He looked over at the figure sleeping in the bed at the other side of the room and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I believe it was a premeditated attack on Mr. Potter,” he finished, turning back to Dumbledore.

The headmaster looked furious as he nodded in agreement and said in a tired voice. “This attack and the one upon Harry during the summer are linked. Unfortunately, the culprit of that attack has not been found yet.”

“But you must have some idea?” Severus asked, fretting.  “The Dark Lord, presumably?”

“Yes,” said Dumbledore with lines of stress on his forehead as he turned and opened the door. “Walk with me, Severus. Harry will be safe here.”

Severus spun his head to look at Harry again, just as Madam Pomfrey rolled curtains around the bed, giving her patient some privacy as he slept.   He followed the headmaster out the door.

Dumbledore continued once they were out of the room. “Or somebody who sympathizes with his regime, looking to gain favour by attacking Harry. Perhaps they sought to discredit Harry or weaken him.”

“Discredit him? To what end?”

Dumbledore looked at Severus gravely. “You and I both know what happened in the graveyard is only the beginning.  Every day the Ministry spends in denial, is a day Voldemort is free to gather his resources and grow stronger.”

Severus cringed that the Dark Lord’s name. Even after all these years, he still hated hearing it. But it was obvious a long time ago that Albus Dumbledore was never going to call the dark wizard by any other name.  He nodded in understanding. “Of course, and the longer the Ministry remains ignorant…”

“The longer Voldemort can work without interference.”

The Potions Master sighed, shaking his head in vexation. “Potter is sensitive to Dementors, is he not?”

“He is, and for good reasons,” said the old headmaster, putting on a frown as he thought deeply. “We will need to keep a very close eye on Harry.  He is strong, but he is still young.”

Severus rubbed his hands against his face. “When have we not been keeping an eye on the troublesome boy? Yet, not a year goes by that I don’t have to save his life.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, as if to gather his emotions. “I’m sorry, Severus.  It’s not going to get any easier. Voldemort’s power grows and our task will only become harder.”

Severus nodded grimly.

“Well. One of our problems is solved at least,” said Dumbledore, his eyes soften as he pulled his lips into a small, genuine smile. The simple gesture made him look thirty years younger.

“What is that?”

“At the beginning of the year I was afraid that Voldemort had created a link with Harry, a result of his return to a corporeal form.  I have been trying to avoid the child all year.  The poor boy must think I have abandoned him.”

“You are only doing what is best for Potter, in the long run.”

“I know.  But my fictitious indifference troubled him greatly. I don’t enjoy it. Severus. But at the time, it couldn’t be helped.  I am pleased to say that I may not have to keep up this charade for any longer.  If what I suspect is true, then our task is a few degrees easier. “

Severus waited in trepidation for the headmaster to continue.

“I believe that Harry’s connection to Voldemort has vanished along with his scar.”

Severus’ eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

Dumbledore stroked his long white beard. “I cannot be one hundred percent certain. But my instincts, as well as the evidence, tell me that the connection is no more.”

Severus let the information sink in for several seconds before replying. “Who’s to say that the scar and the connection will not return? “

“We can only hope, Severus.  We cannot let our guard down. Harry has a great number of enemies and Voldemort a great many supporters…”

“And I might not be there the next time they choose to siege an attack on Potter,” Severus finished Dumbledore’s thoughts.

They stopped in front of the Griffin leading up to the headmaster’s office.

“Yes. I do not know how the Dementors got into the school.  But mark my words, Severus, I will find out who is behind these heinous attacks. In the meantime, I will tell the others to be extra vigilant.  I’ll inform Minerva and Filius and have them set up extra security measures. We will do what we can to keep Harry safe.”

Severus nodded curly.

“Why don’t you get some rest, Severus,” the headmaster urged, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bar of dark chocolate. “You should have some chocolate too.”

“I’m fine, Albus,” Severus dismissed, even though he could feel a migraine pounding inside his skull.

“Nonsense. Take that chocolate with you back to the hospital wing.”

Severus took the chocolate from the headmaster’s wrinkly hands. “I do not need to go to the hospital wing. Thank you again for your concern. But I am fine and I prefer sleep in my own quarters.”

The older wizard smiled knowingly, “I didn’t say you needed to stay in the hospital. Only that you are headed back there. Were you not?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Well, you do what you think is best, my boy,” said the elderly headmaster as he stepped into the Griffin stairway and yawned. “I am feeling rather drowsy.  Give my regards to Harry.”

With that, Albus Dumbledore spoke the password and lifted out of sight, leaving Severus alone in the hall.  The potions master grumbled under his breath as he tore opened the wrappings and bit into the chocolate. The sweet took the edge off of his headache, though he would need at least a night’s sleep before the effects of the Dementors ebbed.

Severus didn’t sleep a wink that evening, despite his body and mind pleading for him to do so.  He sat up all night, keeping vigil by Harry’s bed while the teenager snored.

***

Harry was excused for his morning classes so he could recover from the attack.  The young Gryffindor enjoyed a breakfast of fresh strawberries, chocolate pancakes and chocolate milk.  Although the nasty effects produced by contact with Dementors were mostly gone, Harry clearly remembered what it was like. 

He had no idea how he got to the hospital wing or if it was him that drove off the Dementors. When he asked Madam Pomfrey, the nurse told him that Professor Snape had carried him there in the middle of the night, unconscious.  They had to force feed him potions to help him sleep peacefully.

Harry insisted he was fine, but the zealous nurse refused to let him out of the hospital, saying that she wanted to monitor his condition for a few more hours.  So he waited in his bed, grumbling to himself about how dull it was.

By noon he had nearly nodded off out of sheer boredom.

That was when Severus arrived, with immaculate timing, a mug of hot chocolate in one hand.

“Soul still intact, Mr. Potter?” Severus drawled as he handed Harry the mug of sweet liquid.  “How are you feeling?”

Harry took the mug with both hands. “Thank you, sir. I feel fine. But Madam Pomfrey doesn’t think so.”

“Madam Pomfrey knows best.  You were under attack by at least a dozen Dementors.  You did very well holding them off. However, the effects of such substantial Dementor contact can last for days.”

Harry pulled a face. “But I feel fine, professor.”

“No doubt from the heinous amounts of chocolate you are currently devouring,” Severus said with distaste.

“I like chocolate,” Harry muttered, taking a gulp of the hot chocolate and wiping the foam from his lip.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be sick of chocolate before the week is over, Potter.”

“I doubt it, professor.”

“Hmm,” Severus responded shortly and rolled his eyes, as if to say; we’ll see about that.

“Madam Pomfrey told me that you carried me here last night?” Harry asked.

“I did, Mr. Potter. After I found you under attack by Dementors near my office. Speaking of which, what were you doing there at that time of night?

“Oh…”

“Oh?  Is that all you have to say?  

“Um…well…” Harry mumbled with apprehension.

“Why were you out after curfew, Mr. Potter? Again?” Severus said sternly. “I have told you numerous times. Curfew is there for a reason. It is not an arbitrary rule that you can choose to obey or disobey to your fancy!”

Harry hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you have any idea what could have happened?  If I had not been there?”

Harry’s gaze slid to look down into the mug of brown liquid and bit his lip.  He knew exactly what could have happened, he’d come far too close to getting his soul sucked out more than once.  But he held his tongue, correctly deducing that it was a rhetorical question.

“You cannot keep doing this, Potter!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said meekly.

Severus heaved out a sigh frustration, and rubbed his temple.

“I was coming to see you. I had some questions,” Harry explained.

 “You had questions?  Was it an urgent matter?”

Harry shook his head.  “No, professor.”

“Then what about it was so vital that it couldn’t wait until morning?”

Harry shrugged.

“Shrugging is not an answer, Mr. Potter,” Severus drawled.

“Well…I,” Harry sucked in a breath and looked up at Severus. “Do you remember what I said a few weeks ago, about the dreams I was having being memories and stuff?”

“Yes?”

“I think they are memories. Well…Ron and Hermione reckon, and me too I guess, that it’s the magic that’s making me remember.  I mean, I can’t remember anything from when I was really one, except for…well yeah.” Harry drifted off, not wanting to talk about the other thing he remembered  - his mother’s dying screams and the green light of the killing curse.

Severus waited for Harry to continue.

“Um, I was just hoping that maybe I could find out? For sure what they are? I mean, you would know right?”

Severus gazed at Harry with a look of interest. “Yes, I could help you, Mr. Potter. What kinds of things do you recall dreaming about?”

"Uhh, you know…just stuff. I remember you carrying me around and talking to me and kind of….I guess, playing with me," Harry recalled running a hand through his hair. “You yelled at me a lot too,” he accused. “Who would yell at a baby anyway?”

Severus tilted his head the tiniest bit to the side, and said lightly. “You will have to be more specific than that. In any event, you yelled at me first, Mr. Potter.  Although shriek would be a more accurate verb. In fact, you made so much noise that I was extremely tempted to remove your vocal cords.”

“You wouldn’t do that,”

“Do you wish to test your hypothesis?”

Harry shook his head fervently.

“I thought not.”

“Was I really annoying?”

“All babies are annoying, Mr. Potter.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize. You could not help it.”

Harry smiled despite himself. "In one dream, I was lost and I think I was trying to find you."

"Did you?"

"No, you found me." Harry said softly. For a few seconds, Harry and Severus made eye contact. Harry had rarely looked Snape in the eyes because he was always afraid that he'd only see anger and hate. Looking at Snape now, Harry saw none of that. Snape's eyes were black and hard, but they were not cold, angry or hateful.  Harry saw warmth that was not soft like Hagrid's or glowing like Dumbledore's, but something altogether different ad unique and it shouldn’t make him feel comfortable at all but it did.  Harry blinked and broke eye contact, but he still kept his face up, eyes settling to focus on Snape’s forehead.

"I remember," Severus recollected as he called to mind the incident when Harry had gotten himself lost and was wandering the corridors blind as a sonar-less bat.

"You…do?" Harry said in wonder. "That means…it really happened?"

"I don’t know if your dreams are manifestations of real memories.  I will have to know more details to come to any conclusion.  We can find out, if you wish. You will have to tell me about more of your dreams, and in greater detail.”

"I…maybe," Harry began but then he stopped.  He studied Severus’ expression as he debated with himself, trying to let go of the pervasive mistrust that had formed in him of the Potions professor.

Two voices shouted at Harry in his head. One of resentment and suspicion, the other of forgiveness, curiosity and yearning.  Undecided, the boy thought back to the last few months and remembered; Snape didn’t mock him in class but instead gave him advice and corrected him with patience.  Outside of the classroom, he greeted Harry and asked him causal questions about his day and Quidditch.  He was never scathing in his rebukes or unfair in his punishments. 

Harry nodded. "Yes…I think I’d like that. I want to know.”

Severus let himself smile. "Very well. Tomorrow evening. You may come to my officer after supper and we will discuss it.”

“Alright,” said Harry as he grinned shyly.   “Thanks, professor.”

“You are welcome, Mr. Potter,” Severus replied as he stood up.

“Wait, sir, there’s something else…”

“Quickly, Potter. I have a class I need to get to.”

“Yes, sir. It’s just that...I mean, Remus, he taught me the charm in Third Year. And he said that I had to be concentrating on a single, happy memory.  That’s what I did this summer, I concentrated really hard on the memory of coming to Hogwarts.”

“But this time it was different?” Severus guessed.

“This time it was different, yea,” echoed Harry. “This time I don’t even think I did it consciously…I don’t think. My head just thought of the image and before I knew it, I had conjured the Patronus.”

“Yes,” Severus responded. “That can happen. If one knows how to cast the Patronus well enough, the action that accompanies it becomes almost instinctive.  Your mind will seek out a memory that is most distinct embodiment of happiness.”

“Oh.”

“What memory did you use?” Severus inquired, now curious.

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” Severus said incredulously. “How can you forget something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I just remember an image, not the whole memory.”

“Then what was the image?”

Harry hesitated.

“Well?” Severus pushed.

“You.”

Severus remained speechless, not knowing how to respond.

Harry huffed. “See, I told you it was all jumbled up. “

Severus found himself agreeing with that statement.

***

The following day, Harry actually looked forward to seeing his onetime caretaker.  They talked at length about his memories and Severus shared his own version of the events in Harry’s dreams.  They confirmed the theory of Harry’s dreams being memories. Every single dream Harry recalled turned out to have really happened – though Harry had left out the particularly embarrassing ones. 

One night turned into two, and two turned into twice a week.  Eventually, even the embarrassing ones were talked about.  Harry leaned a lot about Severus during these conversations, like the fact that he had a wicked and somewhat dark sense of humour.    

However, there were only so many different memories one could have about something that happened in the span of one month.   One evening in February, Harry went down to Severus’ quarters, sat down on his sofa with a cuppa and began to talk, only to be informed that they’ve discussed that dream before.  Harry had run out of dreams.

After that, they struggled to find other things to occupy the hour.  There were several awkward moments of silence when neither spoke, but both wracking their heads for something to say. Harry didn’t go to Severus’ quarters for two weeks.  Until he got detention with the Potions Master, and ended up going to bed with a smile on his face and a belly full of apple cider.

As time went by, Harry’s baby dreams became rarer and fewer, until having them became a memory itself.   Harry and Severus found other things to talk about during their meetings. In forming rapport with Harry, Severus found that there were many things the child kept hidden and vehemently refused to discuss.   He did not put pressure on Harry to talk about the delicate subjects.  He was neither the child’s father nor mind healer, and it was not his place to order Harry to disclose his personal life.   If Harry wanted to talk, the he would listen.

In the years that followed, Harry found confidence in Severus and willingly went to the wizard for advice.

Harry sometimes wished he could dream once again of his time as a toddler and experience the sedate content feel he had afterwards. But then he’d realize that he didn’t need the dreams to make him feel that way, he could just go talk with Severus, literally – they did live together now.

For the Boy Who Lived, life wasn’t easy and his troubles didn’t end at the end of Fifth year.  The years that followed were filled with turmoil and struggle.  The battle against Voldemort lasted ages and he lost a number of good friends. But Harry had one more person to rely on to help him through it.

For Severus Snape, life was never dull or peaceful again, not since he took Harry Potter into his home. Gone were the days of privacy and solitary bliss, replaced by the chaos raising a teenager.  Harry saved his life, in more ways than one.  During the last days of the war, Harry saved him with a bezoar and tearily informed him that it was from a stomach of a goat, and could cure most poisons.  Severus called him a insolent, cheeky brat.  

The Boy Who Lived to Cause Gray Hairs, as Severus dubbed him, was more trouble than he was worth.   Severus wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Everything was decidedly good. 

“Hey Severus!”

“Don’t hey me, young man. How many times do I have to tell you to use proper linguistics?  You are not some hooligan so do not talk like one.”

“Yes, Severus,” Harry said passively.

“What is it that you wanted?”

“I was cleaning out the attic and I found this,” said Harry, showing him an old stuffed bear. Harry was excited when he found it.  The 23 year old couldn’t believe he still had that old thing. That Severus kept it all these years?

“What is this thing?”

“Don’t you remember?”

Severus narrowed his eyes as he took the toy from Harry hands and held it between two fingers.  The toy was dirty and torn, with bits of stuffing coming out of one ear.  It looked like something a dog had gnawed on.  Harry smile as recognition dawn on Severus and his eyes grow wider.

“This…where did you find it,” Severus asked now holding the teddy fondly in his palm.

“In a box of my old things, in the attic,” Harry told him. “You remember now?”

“Yes, I remember,” Severus said softly.

“I think I’m going to give this to James, he’ll love it,”  Harry chatted. James was born a little over a year ago and Severus has been giving him all sorts of ‘tips’ of how to properly care for the new baby. As if he knew any more than him or Ginny when it came to the baby.

“In this state?” Severus gasped. “The child will catch a disease from this thing if you give to him.”

“Of course not,” Harry said. “I’m not stupid. I’ll have it disinfected and repaired. I know what I’m doing, Severus.”

Severus scoffed, thought there was no digression in his voice. “Not very likely.”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes in fear of Severus whacking him upside the head.  Severus did it anyway.

“Ow, Severus!”

“That did not hurt one bit,”  Severus harrumphed and pointed a finger at Harry. “And don’t you try to hide it.  I knew you were rolling your eyes.  Is that what you are going to teach James when he is growing up? To roll his eyes at people?”

“What? No,” Harry went on the defensive. “And I was not rolling my eyes.”

“But you were thinking it, Harry.”

Harry exhaled louder than was necessary, feeling annoyed that Severus could reading him like a book. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Need help unpacking?”

Then the young man heard Severus heave out a great sigh and all his sternness evaporated. “If you would, thank you. It’s good to be home, Harry.” 

Severus was still Potions Master and Slytherin Head of House.  He moved me into Harry family manor at the end of fifth year.  On Harry’s wedding day, he gave Harry an envelope which contained the deed to the property.  He said that if Harry didn’t accept the house, he was going to leave it to Draco Malfoy.  Harry signed the deed.

School was out for the summer and the seasoned Potions Master had only been home a few hours.  Harry wondered if he should give his old professor a day to settle down before he asked him…”  He hand been planning a weekend getaway with Ginny and were hoping that it’d be just them.

“Hey Severus?” Harry started to ask as I help him unpack his luggage.

Harry heard a huff of frustration and resignation, as if the older man knew what was going to be asked of him.

“What is it now?” Severus answered in a silky voice.

Harry looked up at him hopefully.

“Um, do you mind babysitting James for the weekend?”