Around the dead of night, the young Gryffindor opened his mouth and released a terrifying scream as he flailed back and forth in his bed, seemingly fighting off an invisible attacker. His door then flung open followed by his father stumbling through the darkness to reach the child's bed. The young boy's screams pierced the cold, dark air as he thrashed about.

"Harry, wake up," Snape commanded, firmly shaking Harry's shoulders in hopes to rouse him from his definite nightmare. "Harry! Wake up!" He shook the terror-stricken child once more. When the boy's hand shot up likely to strike him, Snape's head jerked back, narrowly missing a blow.

"DAD," the boy cried as he shot up in bed, his eyes widening in horror with all traces of sleep gone. He glanced around wildly, clearly panicked by his nightmare.

"I'm here, Harry," he replied, stepping into the candlelight. He remained silent as Harry drew his knees up to his chest, taking in short, quick breathes while trembling. "Would you like me to bring you a Calming Draught?" he asked, noticing that Harry's shakiness wasn't subsiding. As soon as he received the jerky nod, he turned around, only to stop in mid-step a moment later.

"DON'T!" Harry cried. The young boy's green eyes were wide with fear. "Please," he whispered, still trembling. "Please don't leave me alone, Professor."

"Severus," he corrected automatically. "I'm not your professor right now. I won't leave you, Harry." He then took a few steps closer before sitting in a chair beside the young Gryffindor's bed. "Mokai," he softly said, glancing towards the house elf that had popped into the room. "Please fetch a Calming Draught from my private stores for me, Mokai," he said respectfully to the violet-eyed house elf, turning back to Harry when it left.

"W-what was that?" the young child asked, jerking his head where the house elf had been.

"A house elf," Snape calmly answered. "They typically serve Wizarding families. Hogwarts has quite a number of them."

"They're slaves?"

"I suppose one could say that, yes. They, however, believe it is an honor to serve wizards."

"That one is yours?"

"He is. He has served my family for many years."

"He's not a Hogwarts one?"

"No, he does not work in Hogwarts, Harry. Though, he is not bound to me anymore, so if he so wishes to work here, he may do so." He noticed the confusion instantly. "I admit that it unnerved me, knowing that he was bound to serve my every whim through forced compulsion. So I freed him at once. House elves have lived a millennium in servitude, though, so informing a house elf that it is free typically only causes it distress. Serving a wizard is all they know."

"That's rather sad," the young child responded quietly. He flinched only slightly when the small house elf popped into the room with the requested potion in hand.

"Thank you, Mokai," he said softly, grabbing the proffered vial from the silent house elf. He uncorked it then, handing it to Harry and motioning for the young child to drink all of it. He grabbed it back a moment later, placing the now empty vial in his pocket.

"Does it talk?" Harry asked a few seconds later, turning his head sideways as if to get a better glance of the little house elf wearing a baggy green shirt.

"Oh, yes, Young Master Harry, Mokai speaks," the house elf with big violet eyes squeaked, glancing towards the young Gryffindor. "Master Severus says that it is getting Mokai to be silent that is the real success."

Harry laughed instantly, smiling softly as he glanced towards S-Severus. He then sighed, a frown quickly crossing his features. His green eyes glanced down at the bed before his hands went to his lap. Why couldn't he call the man 'Dad?' The man seemed to love him as evidenced by him coming into Harry's bedroom and caring enough to sit beside him as he calmed down. Harry then sighed. At least the man loved him more than his mother had it seemed. She just wanted Harry for herself, not caring who she hurt to get him. Plus, the man was calling him by his first name instead of Potter. He was trying to be nice and, well, fatherly. So why couldn't Harry just call him 'Dad' or at the very least by his first name like he had offered? Why was he still Snape in Harry's mind?

"Is something wrong, Harry?"

"No," the young boy replied with a shrug, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Young Master Harry should tell Master Severus what is the matter with Young Master," Mokai stated, staring at the young Gryffindor. "Master Severus is a good wizard no matter what the other wizards or house elves say, Young Master."

"Thank you, Mokai," the older wizard said with a snort. "You may go now."

"Even Master Severus's Mistress thinks so," the elf beamed.

The man's face dropped within milliseconds. He stared at the little house elf for awhile before growling and glaring at the elf. For the moment, he'd ignore the look on Harry's face.

"I don't have a mistress, Mokai," he said in his deadly quiet voice.

"Yes, Master Severus," the house elf replied, clearly not believing him for a moment. "Mokai shall keep Master Severus's secret a bit longer."

"What secret?" Harry asked, glancing at Snap—Severus. He was Severus, not Snape. Harry had to get that right. He just had to.

"What in the Wolfsbane are you talking about, elf?"

"Mokai saw Master Severus's Mistress in Master Severus's bed yesterday morning."

Harry's eyes widened as he glanced from the little house elf to Snape. The boy then clenched his teeth at his blunder. Severus! The man's name was Severus, not Snape. Why couldn't he get that through his head? He then sighed.

So there actually was something going on between them. Harry had thought so, but they had both said earlier that there wasn't. His green eyes then narrowed as he thought for a moment. Professor Sinistra, if that was who the elf was talking about, was rather nice. After all, she had made S-Severus stay yesterday evening for him instead of letting S-Severus change his clothes. She didn't even ask Harry either why he wanted S-Severus to stay. Though, it wasn't like he was going to admit to her or anyone else for that matter that it was because he was afraid that he'd lose Severus to the shadowy creature again like he had night after night in his dreams. She just pretended like she wanted him to stay for her instead of Harry. Plus, she ran her hands through his hair as Severus spoke to him like he had seen Aunt Petunia do with Dudley whenever he was ill. That felt really nice. Harry smiled softly as he nodded to himself. She could be a good mum.

"That was NOT my mistress, Mokai."

Harry added the yet in his mind as he stared at him. Maybe that was why his d—Snape—no, NO, Severus was so mad all the time. He liked Professor Sinistra, but there were like rules against them being together. After all, Harry had heard Aunt Petunia arguing with Uncle Vernon once about some secretary that Uncle Vernon was with. She had said that there were rules against that, and that he was going to bring about scandal by being with that tramp, whoever that was.

"Whatever Master Severus's says, Master Severus," Mokai replied softly, bowing his head.

"Mokai, for the last time, Aurora is not my mistress. She's my colleague."

"And does Master Severus offer his bed for all Master's colleagues?"

"Mokai!" the older wizard growled.

The little house elf only smiled with mischievous violet eyes twinkling. He then winked at Harry before snapping his fingers and popping out of the room.

"Now you can see why I find it a success when he's silent."

"Are all house elves like him?"

"No." He then turned towards Harry. "When Mokai was bound to servitude, he was much quieter. I assure you. However, I have given him a great deal of freedom over the years, namely letting him speak his mind. As you can see, sometimes the elf's mouth gets away from him."

"Are you and Professor Sinistra—?"

"No, Harry," he replied quietly. "There is nothing going on between Aurora and myself." He didn't say anything when he saw Harry's face drop slightly. "I'll admit, though. She did spend the night in my bed last night. However, I was in my lab, brewing potions for Madam Pomfrey all night. Nothing improper occurred between us."

"So where is she now?"

"On the sofa, sleeping likely," he answered. "I gave her a Sleeping Draught earlier so that she'd rest instead of staying up and standing guard over you like she no doubt had hoped to do." At the sight of Harry's confusion, he further explained. "She had a feeling you'd experience a nightmare tonight."

"Why?"

"Because she and I both believe that you have been experiencing nightmares for the past two nights, failing to tell us about it."

Harry's head lowered in shame. He had been having nightmares, but he didn't want to be a burden. He knew all too well what happened when he became a burden. He didn't want Severus to give him that look like he was too much work, not worth the trouble, all the looks he had received from the Dursleys while in their care.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. I myself experience nightmares from time to time."

"What do you do?" he asked, glancing up at Severus.

"Well, I'm not a good role model. I've been known to avoid my problems." When he caught Harry nodding his head, he sighed. "However, I don't want you to do that, Harry. It's not good for anyone to avoid the bad in one's life. It just makes a person turn bitter, jaded, like me."

"You're not, though," Harry argued. "You've been real nice to me."

"Was I nice to you when we first met?"

"Well, no, but that wasn't your fault, though."

"No?" he replied, crossing his arms. "I wonder whom you believe is at fault."

"I reminded you of her, and it made you mad. I understand that. I'd be mad if I were you, too, seeing this kid who reminded you of the witch who used you," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Your mother did not use me, Harry."

"Yes she did. She used you to create me, her perfect child. She didn't even tell you when she found out she was pregnant. She kept it a secret until my first night here. She didn't even give you a chance, S-Severus." Harry berated himself immediately at his slight stumble over his name.

"She did what she felt was best for her child, Harry."

"Would you have hurt me, Severus?" Harry asked seemingly out of nowhere.

"No, of course I wouldn't have."

"Would you have fed me, gave me clothes, gave me a room with a bed?"

"I likely would have, yes."

"Would you have, um, well?" Harry wrung his hands nervously as he stared at his lap. Making sure not to look at Severus, he whispered, "Would you have loved me?"

"I don't know, Harry," he replied honestly with a sigh.

"I think you would have," Harry said, slowly glancing up at him. "I mean, you came in here tonight and didn't yell at me for waking you up. You didn't even call me a baby or anything when I asked you to stay. You just sat down beside me to stay with me just because I asked you to. You were even nice enough to offer me a Calming Draught, too, when you noticed that I was having trouble getting myself calm again. Isn't that what a parent does?" Harry caught Severus's hand jerk slightly, which made him bite his bottom lip. Maybe he had overstepped his bounds with him.

"You haven't, Harry," he said quietly. He then sighed. "I admit that I haven't a clue what a good parent is because I didn't have either."

"Oh," the young boy softly said.

"Is that what you'd say your definition of a parent is, though?"

"Yeah, I guess," Harry answered with a shrug. "I mean, Aunt Petunia always came into Dudley's room when he had nightmares. She used to sing him lullabies in fact."

"And you'd hear this from your room?"

"No." Harry hung his head even lower. "I heard it from my cupboard."

"Ah, yes, your cupboard under the stairs," he replied sardonically, clenching his teeth slightly. "Listen to me, Harry. The Dursleys were deplorable guardians and likely aren't fit to be parents themselves. But knowing your mother as well as I do, Harry—" He then leaned forward when the young Gryffindor shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear his words. "Please, Harry, just listen. I doubt she placed you with them out of malice. Your mother likely thought your aunt would somehow grow a heart and take care of you like Lily would have done for your cousin if the roles had been reversed. If she had known what would happen to you, though, she never would have placed you there, Harry. She would have rather given you to me than to them. I promise you this."

"Why'd she think you were so bad, though?" the Gryffindor asked. "Why'd you do?"

"I made a terrible mistake when I was sixteen, which your mother had long suspected I'd make."

"She couldn't forgive you?"

"What I did, Harry, is considered unforgivable."

"But you're not the same man you were when you were sixteen, though."

"You're correct, Harry. I'm not. I've paid dearly for my mistake, and I'm attempting to make amends, but it might not be enough in the end." He shook his head when Harry opened his mouth to argue. "We will just have to see. Either way, though, Lily likely hoped that I'd stray back into the light with time, so she set that unknown deadline. And she was right ultimately."

"But you wouldn't have hurt me. You would have loved me. You said it yourself."

"It would have been dangerous to have you, though."

"Why?"

"I think you know why, Harry."

"Oh," the young Gryffindor replied, glancing down at his clasped hands. As he stared at the intricate green and silver bedding in silence, a flash of something quickly crossed his mind. It was like watching a Muggle film replaying with the film slowly unraveling from the spool. Several more flashes then occurred, forming a line of events from Harry's memory that were unfortunately out of order.

"There's not a single witch or wizard who went dark, who wasn't in Slytherin," Hagrid said, as the memory of the day Harry went to Diagon Alley flashed. "You-Know-Who was one." (80)

"Or perhaps in Slytherin/you'll make your real friends/those cunning folk use any means/to achieve their ends," the decrepit-looking hat sung at Harry's sorting. (118)

"That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to—everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape," Ron's older brother Percy later stated as Harry enjoyed the start-of-term feast. (126)

"Blasted thing," Severus growled, wrapping bandages around his badly mangled leg. It was just a little while before Harry won his first Quidditch match. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" (182)

Another flash passed before his eyes. This time the setting was a nice sunny day outside as the trio sat drinking celebratory tea inside Hagrid's hut. The half-giant seemed flustered, however, by the conversation the trio seemed to want to discuss. He kept a polite smile, though.

"But Snape's trying to steal it!"

"Rubbish!" exclaimed Hagrid. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher. He'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try to kill Harry?" cried Hermione, setting her tea down in front of her. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them. You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all. I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong! I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn't try an' kill a student!" (192-193)

Yet another flash overtook his sight. The setting was darker now. There were two figures below him, talking quietly. One figure was clearly Snape, and the other seemed to be Quirrell.

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Severus drawled, taking a threatening step towards the stuttering Defense professor.

"I-I don't know what you—"

"You know perfectly well what I mean," Severus spat back. An owl then hooted loudly nearby, muffling his words. "—your little bit of hocus pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-don't—" stuttered Quirrell, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Very well," Severus sneered. "We'll have another little chat soon," he said, pausing for a moment. "When you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." (226)

This time when the flash happened, it made his lightning bolt scar prickle followed by a sharp stabbing pain that caused him to cry out and clutch it. Never before had his scar hurt so badly. It was as if someone was carving into it with a dull knife.

Black robes billowed behind the dark figure as it glided across the exposed roots towards him. The figure growled, silver liquid sparkling on its lips. Its eyes were redder than blood itself.

"POTTER!" yelled someone behind him. Oddly enough, it sounded like Malfoy, but the Slytherin sounded odd, though, as if he was scared to death of something.

"The Boy-Who-Lived!" the dark figure snarled, slashing him with its long fingers repeatedly.

"Harry!" a voice shouted followed by that mysterious green light and cold sinister laughter.

A whoosh then roared in his ears before he found himself sprawling off his bed towards the floor. Strong arms quickly grabbed him, though, preventing this from happening. He smelled the familiar scent he had come to identify as being Severus's. It calmed him for some strange reason. After everything his mind had just showed him, being in Severus's arms calmed him.

Harry felt Severus's hands gently cup his face, forcing him to look into the obsidian eyes. Slowly, more calm washed over him as the pain quickly receded from his scar. Severus was casting something. He had to be. A chill rushed down his spine, though. Was he wrong to trust Severus so freely? Had that been why his mind showed him those memories?

"What did you see?" Severus asked, staring at him with some odd look on his face.

"Um, flashes of things," Harry replied shakily.

"Like what?"

"That day I went to get back my book," he softly answered, "when I saw your leg all bleeding and twisted in the staffroom, and Filch was helping you."

"What else?" The man's voice seemed oddly calm as he spoke. However, it seemed to be forced at times. "You saw something else, Harry. Now, what was it?"

"I-I think it w-was my attack."

"This is really important, Harry. What did the figure look like?"

"I don't know. I-I couldn't see the face. I-it had, um, unicorn blood on its lips, though."

"What did it smell like? Did it smell like me?"

Harry shook his head instantly, pausing a moment later. The thing didn't smell like Severus. Maybe that was why he wasn't screaming for his life right then, thinking that Severus was still trying to kill him. It didn't smell like cinnamon and other pleasing herbs as Severus smelled like. His eyes then narrowed. No, no, whatever it smelled like it was pungent.

"I've smelled it before in one of my classes," Harry quietly said, slowly recalling its familiarity.

"Where?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on Harry's arm.

"I don't know. I can't remember." Harry shook his head. He wasn't helping. His hands balled up into fists, slamming down onto the bedding. It was important. It had to be!

"Stop, stop, Harry," Severus said, gently placing his calloused hands on top of Harry's fists.

"It's important, though," Harry replied. "If you knew who it was, you could stop them before they steal the stone from the trapdoor in the third floor corridor." He instantly felt Severus's hands clench atop of his at the mentioning of the stone.

"How do you know about that?" Severus's hand then grabbed Harry's chin, forcing him to look at him when Harry tried to glance away. "Harry, where did you hear that?" A few moments later, he said in his deathly quiet voice, "Answer me, Harry."

"I was with Hagrid when he took it out of Gringotts for Professor Dumbledore," the young Lion explained, staring into the obsidian eyes that were demanding the truth. "Malfoy challenged me to a duel in the trophy room, so we—I mean, I." He gulped when Severus's eyes narrowed even more on him. "Please don't make me say it," he pleaded, knowing that Severus had caught his slip.

"Very well," Severus drawled. "I won't make you say it."

Harry's eyes widened in surprised. Severus really wasn't going to make him rat out on—

"No doubt, Mr. Weasley jumped at the chance to break curfew." Harry's face fell. Oh, that's why he said he wasn't going to make him. "Likely even Miss Granger involved herself in it. Though, I doubt she willingly participated in breaking the rules. She appears to be the one with the brains in your little trio. Was there another?"

"Neville," Harry quietly answered, not understanding why he did.

"Ah, the one I never would have suspected," Severus said with a sigh. "Well, do continue."

"Neville and Mione were locked out of the common room because the Fat Lady wasn't there to let them back in." Harry watched Severus nod slowly. "So, they just came with us, not wanting to be alone with Filch about. We went to the Trophy room and waited for Malfoy and his friends to show up, but they didn't. Instead, I think they told Filch we'd be there or something because he showed up soon after with Mrs. Norris. We all ran, meeting Peeves who made all of us run into a locked door. Mione opened it, and we hid out in there until they all left."

"Four first-years hid in a room, likely with their backs turned," Severus said quietly, "that I take it you found to be inhabited by a three-headed dog, a dog which attacked me—a full grown wizard—and none of you were injured?"

"It just scared us. We ran all the way back in fact." Harry's eyes narrowed on Severus when he let out a soft snort. "Severus?" he softly said.

"The irony of that is laughable," he replied, shaking his head. "I take it none of you have since tried to seek out the incredibly dangerous three-headed dog that likely could have tore you all to shreds?" he asked sardonically.

"We won't. I promise."

Severus waved it off, though. "So, you three Gryffindors put two and two together then and figured out all on your own that Hogwarts has the stone, and that it's being guarded by a three-headed dog in the forbidden part or the third floor corridor."

"Actually, Hagrid let it slip that the thing that it is guarding is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. Mione figured it out from a book she had read in the library after I had another Dumbledore card."

"Ah, yes," Severus replied, slowly nodding his head. "And with that extra knowledge, you figured out that it was the Elixir of Life that someone wanted." He then snorted again. "Tell me, Harry. Was I your number one suspect?"

"Yeah," Harry answered with his eyes downcast.

"Forgive me, but I'm interested in learning what changed."

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "I just, well, since I've been down here, I just have a feeling that it isn't you anymore."

"Three days with me changed your mind? Forgive me if I don't believe it." Severus then sighed, shaking his head slowly. "Your scar hurt when you saw these flashes of memories. Has it hurt before?"

"Once," Harry answered. "It was when I first saw you, the night of my Sorting. You were talking to Professor Quirrell and then glanced at me."

"And you clutched your scar," he said quietly, as if recalling the memory right then, "just like you did now." His mind seemed to be working something out.

"Yeah, but it only hurt this time when I saw the red-eyed figure." Harry then sighed when Severus's eyes narrowed on him. However, the older wizard remained quiet, glancing away a moment later. "Are we going to be in trouble for this?"

"For being overly curious?" he asked, glancing at Harry. "Unfortunately, it is a rather annoying trait that all meddlesome Gryffindors have. So, no, you and your friends are safe this time. However, if I ever catch you out after curfew, I assure you that I will take points and assign the nastiest jobs for you to do in detention." He then inhaled before frowning. "I will also be rather disappointed in you, Harry."

"Why?"

"For a number of things, presently it'd be for needlessly risking your life." He cleared his throat as he fixed Harry with a look. "I would hope that in the future you could perhaps trust an adult and inform them about things like this."

"What if they don't listen?"

"Then come to me or Aurora for that matter. We will always listen. Even if it appears as if I'm not," he added quietly.

"Can I ask a question?" When Severus nodded, Harry inhaled slowly. "What was that spell you casted earlier on me? The one that made my scar stop hurting," he explained.

"Something that I'm skilled in, Harry," he simply answered. "You're feeling better, though?"

"Yeah, but can you stay with me, though? In case it happens again."

"I can." Severus then settled into his chair as he made himself comfortable. "We're going to have to talk more tomorrow, though, Harry."

"You mean about me not having a mum?" he asked quietly.

"That and numerous other painful subjects," he replied.

Harry sighed, laying back against his pillows and pulling the sheets up. He didn't feel like talking, though. Sure, he knew Severus was right, but he just didn't want to. He then frowned. Maybe that was because Severus was learning all this info about him, while not sharing anything back. Biting his bottom lip, he glanced towards the older man.

"You still love her, don't you?"

"I'll always love her, Harry."

"Even though she—"

"For the last time, Harry," Severus said with a heavy sigh, "she did not use me."

"She admitted it, though, Severus. 'I freely admit that I used your affections just so I could have your child.' So why don't you believe it?"

"Harry, to use a person, one has to be an unwilling participant or at the very least extremely naïve." He watched Harry's frown deepen. "I was neither unwilling, nor naïve."

"You knew she wanted you to help her get me?" he asked incredulously.

"No. I admit her wishing for a child with me had not crossed my mind at the time. However, I was not naïve enough to think that she had finally chosen me over James. She gave me a night, Harry, a night that I likely will cherish for the rest of my life. But I do not hate her for it, though."

"Not even for not giving you custody of me?" he whispered, feeling his heart clench painfully.

"I wished she had given it to someone else instead of her jealous bitch sister," he replied. "But I understand her reasoning for not giving me custody of you. I was unfit to be a parent at the time. I would have given you love, yes, but you and I likely wouldn't have lived very long to reach this point."

"Why?"

"You read the letter, Harry. You know why," he quietly said.

"Because of V—"

"Do not say that name, Harry. Do not ever use that name."

"But Dumbledore says that fear—"

"It is not fear I feel when I hear that name, Harry."

"Then what is it?"

"Regret, remorse, hatred, disgust, take your pick," he replied, frowning.

"You're not saying—please—you weren't—Severus?" Harry asked, feeling himself tremble. Severus couldn't have been one of those Slytherins. He couldn't have been. Sure, the man was a right git in class, but he taught a subject where people could kill everyone. He had to maintain a strict authority. He then swallowed as time passed and Severus said nothing. "You were one of His?" He watched the older wizard for a few minutes before pressing his lips together. His mind was flooding for excuses for the man. His dad couldn't be bad. He just couldn't be. "You came back to our side, though, right?"

"I have," Severus quietly answered. "My loyalties lie with Albus Dumbledore now."

"That's the thing you did that was unforgivable?" the young boy asked.

"Yes," he replied, closing his eyes.

"You couldn't have me then because he'd have told you to kill me one day, right?" Harry watched Severus nod slowly. "Would you have?" He flinched imperceptibly when Severus's head jerked up with haunted eyes.

"No, Harry," he stated firmly, leaning towards him. "I would have refused and died for it. And if he is in fact alive as we suspect, then I will stand beside you, refusing to give you to him."

"Good," Harry simply said, rolling onto his side to face Severus. He believed the man's words, knowing instinctively that Severus meant every word of it. Love, which was something he heard in his father's voice—Harry beamed instantly as he caught himself using the word—Severus was his father. He, Harry Potter—or was it Harry Snape—had a father, and not just a father by name only, no, no, Severus embodied every connotation of the word through his actions and, well, his words. He had a dad.