Little Harry (although not nearly as little as he had been a year ago) was sitting at the desk in his room, drawing a picture for his daddy.  Captain, looking as regal as ever in his dark black teaching robes and shiny glasses, was overseeing the project from his spot in Harry’s lap. 

It was a Very Important Day, according to his Daddy, because Harry had come to live with his Tall Man exactly a year ago.  They were going to have dinner in their quarters, and Aunt Minnie was coming too, and the elves were going to make them something special for dessert!!! 

So in honor of the celebration, his Tall Man had asked him to colour him a picture of his family now, and that’s what he had done!  He was working on the final touches when he heard a knock on his door, followed by the almost silent squeak of the hinges. 

“Daddy!”  Harry turned and scolded, running over to his Tall Man after quickly turning his picture over.  “You’re nots s’posed to come in yet!  I’m not done!”  He shouted, giving a very Snape like scowl at the imposing figure of his father. 

“Dinner is almost ready Harry.  You need to wash your hands and come greet Minerva,” his daddy said in his crisp way. 

“Five more minutes, p’ease!” He pleaded, setting his little hands against his father’s hip and trying to push the man out of his room.

His daddy looked down at him with a raised eyebrow until his feet slipped out from underneath him and he fell to the soft carpet below.  Harry didn’t wait for a hand up though, but quickly bounced back to his feet with a scowl. 

“Five more minutes then, Harry, but no more,” his daddy warned solemnly, a small smile threatening to escape his lips.

“Good!  So go!”  He stomped one little foot hard and shooed his daddy out of the room.

Finally he was alone again and he quickly scampered back to his desk and turned his picture back over, checking it carefully to make sure no harm had been done while upside-down.  He was very proud of his picture and he was fairly positive that his Tall Man would be too. 

It showed the two of them (and Captain) standing outside the castle in the midst of spring, surrounded by the growth and warmth of new plant life.  He had been amazed at how many flowers had come out during his first spring at Hogwarts, and still had dreams about running outside through the fresh grass of the new season. 

He had drawn his daddy very tall and thin, an arm draped around a little black haired boy who was smiling ear to ear while squeezing a bright pink bear against his chest.  His daddy wasn’t smiling with his mouth, but Harry had tried to make it look as though his eyes were.  He had learned that his Tall Man had many expressions that a lot of the “dunderheaded students” never picked up on. 

Mostly though, he tried to make his daddy look safe, like a stern protector should be. 

“I tink it’s done,” he remarked softly to Captain after adding a final couple of strokes against his daddy’s hair. 

“Don’t forget to put your name at the bottom,” he imagined his little fuzzy friend saying. 

“Oh yeah!”  Little Harry’s eyes lit up and he painstakingly wrote out “H – A – R – R – Y” at the bottom of the picture, the pink tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he did so. 

“Come on Captain!  We haveta go show Daddy now,” he said excitedly, grabbing both his paper and his bear and then galloping out into the sitting area of their quarters. 

“Aunt Minnie, Aunt Minnie!”  He shouted at the top of his lungs, receiving a warning glance from his daddy as he rushed by him. 

“My oh my, Mr. Harry!  Where did you come from?”  Minerva McGonagall answered, putting a hand to her heart and pretending to faint onto the sofa. 

“My room!  And befores that, I came from my mummy!”  He answered with a wide grin, glancing at his father for confirmation of his reply.  They had discussed the birds and the bees the previous week, and he was still getting his mind around how it all worked. 

“What’s that in your hand, Harry?” She asked him, trying to look at his Most Important picture. 

“I can’t show you yet, Minnie.  Daddy’s gotsta see it first,” he answered apologetically, pretending in his mind that Captain was nodding along with him. 

“Well Severus?  Get over here!  I want to see what he’s drawn now!”  Minerva ordered sharply, making him giggle as his daddy twitched and then hurriedly complied.

He waited until his Tall Man had sat down and had pulled him up into his lap before unrolling his picture and holding it up for them both to see.  Without speaking, he watched as both his Aunt Minnie and his daddy took hold of their sides of the picture, allowing him to have his hands free as he explained what he had drawn. 

“See?  Dere’s me and Daddy and Captain, and dis is Hogwarts, and dere’s Hagrid’s pumpkins and . . .” he babbled happily, secure in his warm position against his daddy, and beside his Minnie. 

“So many flowers Harry!  I can nearly smell them!”  Minerva said, smiling at him proudly. 

He gave her a small smile and then turned back to his daddy. 

“Do you like it Daddy?  I did just like you said.  I drew a picture of us at our home!  Do you like it?”  He inquired breathlessly, bright eyes shining trustingly up at his daddy. 

“It’s perfect Harry,” his Tall Man answered in a deep voice as he continued to gaze thoughtfully at his picture. 

“I didn’t make you smile like everyone else does, but like you do, Daddy,” he added solemnly, leaning his head against the man’s shoulder in contentment. 

“Thank you Harry,” his daddy whispered in his ear.  “I can tell you did a lot of work on this,” he continued on in a louder voice. 

“Does dat mean you and Aunt Minnie will make it move?”  He asked hopefully. 

“Minerva?”  His daddy asked, raising a dark eyebrow at the smiling woman beside them. 

“Well,” she said slowly, drawing the word out.  “It is a special day.  I suppose I could do something,” she answered, giving him a wink.

“Yay!”  He cheered, using his inside happy voice.  His daddy nodded approvingly at him and he grinned lovingly back up at him. 

He looked back to where Minerva was tapping her wand on his picture and then gasped as he saw the magic beginning to work. 

“Daddy!  The leaves are movin’ on the trees!”  He said in a loud whisper, his green eyes wide as he pointed towards his picture. 

“That’s not all,” Minerva said, shaking a knowing finger towards them both.  “Look at the two of you!” 

In a move that might have been comical had anyone else been watching, both he and his daddy leaned forwards towards his picture as they sought to see the action happening. 

In the picture, a robed and imposing figure, his hair long and black, was looking at a tiny green eyed boy who now, instead of just smiling, was openly laughing as he swung back and forth on the Taller Man’s hand. 

“Brat,” the real Severus stated with a squeeze to his mid-section. 

Both Severus’s were now giving the small boy a smile, one that was almost visible to Minerva and Captain as they watched on in silence. 

Age 5 continued . . .

Harry awoke one morning to discover that he had a tooth loose, but unlike many children his age, he didn’t find the discovery pleasant or exciting.  He found it frightening.

He had broken a tooth before, thanks to an unpleasant incident involving his aunt slamming a door in his face, and this made those memories come back in force.

“Daddy?” He whispered uncertainly as he snuck carefully into his daddy’s bed. 

“Hm?”  His Tall Man answered sleepily, reaching out an arm and pulling him up next to his warm body. 

“I tink something’s wrong,” he whispered, on the edge of tears. 

That was enough for Severus.  He blinked hard once and then stretched, moving them both into an upright position. 

“What is it?”  His daddy’s concerned voice rumbled over him gently. 

“I dunno what happened, but my tooth—it jus’ started movin’!” He let out a shuddery breath and curled up tighter in his daddy’s lap. 

“It did?” 

Unlike Minerva or any other Hogwarts adult, Harry couldn’t hear the change of tone in his daddy’s voice that signaled the changeover from worry to bemusement, but it was there nonetheless. 

“Yeah!  And da las’ time I hads a tooth move was when my auntie hurt me with da door, daddy,” his voice wavered as a few tears dropped down his cheeks. 

Severus always felt the urge to growl at the mention of the boy’s “auntie,” and this time was no exception. 

“How did she hurt you with it child?”  He asked softly, shifting his son up higher against his chest, and then turning the light on with a flick of his wand. 

“She throwed it closed, right in my face.  She said it was an ac-accident, but why’d she do it five times then?” 

Severus felt his jaw clench in response to his son’s question, and couldn’t give an immediate answer because of it. 

“We have discussed your ‘auntie’ before.  Do you remember?”  He asked, stroking the side of Harry’s soft cheek gently with his fingertips. 

“She’s da bad one,” his son repeated dutifully. 

“And?”  Severus prompted.

“And . . .” Harry continued in a voice too soft for even him to understand. 

“Say it again Harry.  I don’t believe I quite heard you.” 

“An-And I’m not a freak,” his child spoke again in a slightly louder whisper. 

“You are not,” Severus confirmed with a hard nod.  “What are you instead, little one?” 

“I’m Harry—Harry Snape.  And you’re my daddy and you loves me,” he answered, giving his Tall Man a grin as he did.  The words always filled him with warmth, which was probably why Severus had him repeat them as often as he did. 

“Good lad,” his daddy answered, giving him his very special smile.  “Now, show me your tooth.” 

Harry leaned his head back and pointed with a tiny finger at one of his upper front teeth. 

“It’s loof, daddy,” he said, trying to speak with his mouth open.

Severus touched his index finger to the tooth carefully and delicately moved it back and forth within its socket.

“It is indeed, child.  Congratulations,” Severus said brightly. 

“Daddy?”  Harry asked in confusion. 

“A loose tooth at your age is nothing to be afraid of,” his daddy explained patiently, warm amber eyes smiling down on him. 

“You’re sure?”  Harry asked uncertainly. 

“Quite sure,” Severus said, carefully wiping away his son’s tears with a stray handkerchief.  “Blow,” he instructed, holding the cloth carefully in front of the small nose.  “In fact, when that tooth falls out, you must remember to put it under your pillow that night,” he paused, waiting for the inevitable question. 

“Why?”  His child’s eyes were enthralled with the strangeness of his statement. 

“Why?  So the Tooth Owl can come and retrieve it, silly boy,” he answered, touching his finger lightly to his son’s now clean nose. 

“Da Tooth Owly?”  Harry answered slowly, trying out the title for the first time. 

“Muggles call it the Tooth Fairy,” Severus answered sagely. 

“Fairy’s are scary,” his son said with a shiver.  “They smile too much,” he added, crossing small arms over his torso defensively. 

“Well, no one ever said that muggles were the brightest of the species,” Severus teased. 

“So the Tooth Owly?”  Bright eyes prompted him. 

“Aw, yes.  The Tooth Owl,” he said.  “It takes your tooth—.” 

“Where, Daddy?”  Harry interrupted. 

“If you will be patient, I shall explain.”

“Sorry.” 

“It takes your tooth off to the Owl Queen, and after she has gotten enough teeth, she trades them for gold.”

“Who does she trade wif’, Daddy?” 

“Potion Masters, of course,” Severus answered, barely containing his grin. 

“To use in their potions???”  His son asked excitedly, happily clapping his small hands together.    

“Correct,” he answered, leaning over and kissing his son on the head.  “Now, shall we continue this conversation at breakfast?” 

“Food!” His child’s mighty lungs bellowed out as he leapt from Severus’s bed and ran for the door. 

“I suppose that would be a ‘yes,’” Severus said to himself in the now empty room. 

“Come on, daddy!  It’s pancakes day!”  Harry’s voice reverberated in his ears from the other room, causing him to wince slightly. 

“Why don’t you announce that a little louder son?  I’m not quite sure that the Gryffindors heard you way up in their tower!” 

His son’s giggles were his only answer. 

One morning, not so very long after learning about the Tooth Owl, Harry awoke with a sniffle and a headache.  He made his way to breakfast a bit slower than usual, and did little more than push his food around when he got there. 

Severus, knowing what a voracious little eater his son was, naturally become concerned and put his hand up to the boy’s head to check for fever. 

“Harry, how do you feel?”  He asked when he felt how warm the child’s head was. 

“My head hurts,” the little boy whimpered, leaning towards his father with a sniffle and a small cough. 

That was it for Severus.  Back into bed went his tiny boy, and Madam Pomfrey was flooed directly after. 

“He’s got the Wizarding Pox,” she said after carefully checking him (and Captain) over. 

“What’s dat?”  Harry asked, his little nose already beginning to look red and bothered.  He was sprawled in Severus’s lap, curled up in a ball.

“It’s a childhood sickness that most magical folk get when they’re little,” she answered gently.

“Am not little!”  Harry whined; sticking his purple polka dotted tongue out at her vehemently. 

“Harry,” Severus warned, causing him to turn his face into his Tall Man’s warm chest in embarrassment.  He didn’t like being reprimanded, and especially not in front of witnesses. 

“Severus, I do hope that you’ve already had this particular illness,” Poppy began worriedly, before being waved off. 

“I had it when I was smaller than him.  Thankfully, my mother recognized it for what it was and gave me the appropriate treatment before it had continued on for too long.” 

“Treatment?”  Harry asked slowly, turning his face back into the light with a slight wince.

“Just a series of potions,” Severus answered in a soothing voice, lowering the lights with a well-placed swish of his wand as he spoke. 

“Did you make ‘em?”  Harry only had eyes for his daddy, his voice wavering as his sickness continued to make progress through his system. 

“Of course,” his daddy answered softly, stroking a long fingered hand through his son’s wild mane of hair. 

“Okay den,” the little boy answered, closing his eyes and attaching a hand onto the front of his daddy’s robes. 

Poppy administered the first of several potions and then went over the schedule of doses with Severus before leaving. 

Severus soon discovered that a sick Harry was a clingy Harry.  He cried whenever Severus put him down and screamed himself into a coughing fit the one time that he dared leave the room. 

Wizarding pox was nothing to be laughed at either.  Besides causing a fever, coughing, runny nose and headache, it also resulted in a wide range of other maladies; everything from a purple polka dotted tongue, to coughing up nasty tasting bubbles (which created a foul smell when they exploded several hours later), to changing the color of the sick person’s skin or hair and much more.  Wizarding pox fed off of a person’s magical core, and without treatment, it sometimes resulted in a permanent loss of magic. 

Of course, the potions that the treatment consisted of were absolutely vile in taste—something that even Severus remembered from when he was sick with it as a child. 

“Don’t wan’ it!”  Harry turned his head away stubbornly when Severus tried to give him the fourth dose later that morning. 

“Harry James Potter-Snape!”  Severus growled out, quite out of patience.

Little Harry began sobbing at his words.  He didn’t feel good and the world around him seemed unusually yellow—not one of his favorite colors—and his daddy insisted on feeding him another yucky tasting potion, and he didn’t want it! 

“Oh child,” Severus lamented, pulling him up close and kissing his hot sweaty forehead.  “If you don’t take this, you won’t feel better.  Please take it for your daddy?  I do not enjoy seeing you so out of sorts, and I only want you to go back to your usual loud and obnoxious self,” he said, giving Harry his own special smile. 

Harry sniffled into one of the ubiquitous handkerchiefs that were lying around and thought about what his daddy had said.  Even in the midst of his fever addled brain, he sensed an opportunity for bargaining, and decided to go for it.

“Daddy sing to me?”  He whispered. 

“Sing?”  Severus balked, already shaking his head “no.” 

“I take nassy potion and you sing,” Harry responded with a small decisive nod. 

Severus opened his mouth to protest and then closed it again with an audible snap.  He’d been had. 

“This one and the next,” he informed his son. 

“’Kay,” Harry answered agreeably enough.

“Potion first,” his daddy said, tipping the concoction towards his mouth and not giving him a chance to argue any. 

Luckily for Severus, his son did as instructed and swallowed it obediently, making an unhappy face the entire time.  He handed him a cup of pumpkin juice to wash away the taste, wondering the entire time what exactly he was to sing to uphold his side of the deal. 

“Now you sing,” Harry whispered, poking him hard in the chest with one tiny green finger. 

Severus shifted Harry up higher on his shoulder and petted his head gently as he thought about what to sing.  Just as his son was beginning to make little whining sounds in his throat, he opened his mouth and began.

“Hush little Harry, don’t be daft,” he had a feeling that calling Harry a “baby” right now would probably go over badly. 

“Daddy’s gonna make you a calming draught (pronounced like ‘draft’),” he continued in a deep voice, surprisingly on pitch.

“And if that calming draught won’t calm, Daddy’s gonna make you a healing balm.”  In his arms, Harry was finally beginning to settle down and he let out a tentative sigh of relief. 

“And if that healing balm goes to waste, Daddy’s gonna make you some bruise healing paste.” 

Harry yawned and Severus pressed Captain into his free arm (the one not holding onto his robes with a death grip). 

“And if that bruise healing paste boils over, Daddy will neutralize it with a tuft of clover.”  Harry giggled softly against his neck at that one, no doubt remembering why that had happened last time. 

“And if that clover will not do, Daddy will just say, ‘I love you.’”

“I love you too Daddy,” a sleepy Harry mumbled. 

Before going to bed on Halloween, Harry and his daddy would always take the time to light two special candles. These candles represented Harry's Mummy and his Other Daddy, as the boy referred to him as. Severus would hold his wand in one hand and Harry's hand in his other while lighting them with two highly focused flames, his son's eyes glowing solemnly in the candlelight as he did.

Then Harry would put something down in the space before the candles—usually a picture that he had drawn—before giving a verbal message to the hopefully listening spirits. He would always insist that Severus stay there for his message, even though the man always offered to give him privacy.

At age five, the message went something like this:

"Hi Mummy! Hi Udder Daddy. My daddy says dat you might be able to hear me t'night, so I shoulds tell you how I am. I just lost a tooth and put the toof under my pillow like my daddy said to, and guess what! The Tooth Owl came and took it and brought me back my own sivler sickle! Daddy says I can spen' it on anything I want, 'cept for dungbombs, but I don't like them anyways 'cause they're stinky," he spoke brightly, holding Severus's hand tightly the entire time.

"I hope you like da picture I drawed for you. See? It's got me and daddy and Capt'n, but I put you two up in tree lookin' down at us, waving and smilin'. See?"

Finally the little boy ran out of things to tell them and asked his daddy to pick him up before saying his goodnights.

"I love you Udder daddy and I love you mummy. I miss you. I hope you have a good sleep and maybe you'll come see me tomorrow? Even if I can't see you, I hope you come."

And Severus kissed him and then carried him off to bed.

Age 6:

"Hi Mummy, hi Other Daddy," Harry was still an exuberant child at six, but he was a bit more shy when it came to dealing with situations that he wasn't entirely used to.

"My daddy took me to the beach dis year with the Ma'foys, and me and Draco built this humongous sand castle! And Mr. Ma'foy charmed Draco's dragon—he's a purple stuffed dragon, daddy says to say—to move and he climbed up to the very top and wouldn't come down! And den we started yellin' for him to come down an' suddenly Captain was up dere too! Daddy said that it was my acc'dental magic that made it happ'n, and he and Mr. Ma'foy had to come and help us get them down."

Six year old Harry was a taller than his five year old counterpart had been, but he was still a bit behind according to how he should have been. That year he decided to explain part of that to his parents as well.

"Poppy says I still gotta eat more and do lots of exercise so I can keep growing and catch up to wheres I'm s'posed to be. Daddy says that it's 'cause of how Aun—I mean, 'cause of Petunia," he got an approving nod from his father and then continued on. "It's 'cause she didn't feed me like she should have when I was littler. But Daddy feeds me real good! He a'most always gives me dessert, unless I've been bad, and dat's not so often. Anyway, Daddy said I gotta go get ready for bed now, bye! I love you!"

And he scampered off to brush his teeth, leaving Severus standing alone next to the lit candles.

"I miss you Lily. I wish you were here. He's such a good son. He would make you proud—make both of you proud."

Age 7:

"I bet you've been wonderin' how I've been!" He paused, as though waiting for a response. Beside him, his daddy squeezed his hand lightly and he looked up into his face with a loving smile.

"I know a whole lot more den I did last year. I can write now and I been reading some too. Sometimes I go over ta the Malfoy's place and play with Draco and Teddy—his last name is Nott, Daddy just poked me to make sure I remembered to tell you. His daddy is grouchy, but Teddy is cool, and Daddy says it's good that we're friends. And you won't believe this, I bet, but Teddy is shorter than me! And sometimes Pansy and Milly are there too, but we don't talk to them, 'cause they're girls and Draco says they have cooties. But they're usually nice though, so I try and be nice back, like Daddy says, but," he added in a whisper, "I just make sure not to ever touch 'em."

Severus snorted with laughter and Harry looked up at him with a befuddled expression. After a moment, he shook his head and then continued his message.

"Oh and Draco made me really angry a coupla days ago and I accidentally growled at him, and turned into my bear form. And den when I calmed down, I ran off and hid, 'cause I felt bad and was scared daddy would be mad at me. Daddy says that my accidental magic unlocked a door that I shouldna been able to get into and den I spent the rest of the day up in the attic, talkin' to Draco's great-grandma! She's a ghost, but she doesn't do much but—what'd you call it Daddy?"

"Lurk, son."

"Right. She don't do nothing but lurk up dere and I learned lots of cool things about their family, and then they weren't angry me when Daddy found me, but he said he was scared, which made him seem like he was angry, but he wasn't really," Harry paused for a breath and to think for a moment before he finished his message.

"I remember! Daddy's teaching me ta fly, and Ariana is helping me practice. She's real nice, almost like a cousin, if I had a cousin, but I don't, 'cause I don't have any aunts or uncles, but if I did, she'd be the cousin I'd choose if I could. I love you mummy and I love you too other daddy. Uncle Albus says to say thanks for helping out with him, but he wouldn't tell me why, so I hope you unnerstand, 'cause I don't."

This time, Harry had already brushed his teeth and he ran off to bed to read a bit to himself, before his daddy came in to kiss him goodnight and tuck him in.

"I hope you understood him. He's been talking about the both of you, especially since he started learning to fly. Everyone says he flies just like you James, but I think he has more of your grace, Lily."

Age 8:

"Hi Daddy James, hi Mummy. I made a new friend this year. His name is Neville and he's really nice, but Draco doesn't like him. We got in a big fight, and I only growled at him a little bit. Draco tried ta prank him, but I saved him at the last moment, and he accidentally pranked his daddy instead!" Harry's eyes went wide with the memory, and his daddy patted him gently on the shoulder.

"And now Neville and I are da bestest of friends, and Ariana even likes him and she usually only talks to me and the plants in the greenhouse! Oh and she talks to 'fessor Sprout too, but that's just 'cause they can talk plant to each other, and now I think Neville can too. Daddy said I was getting jealous, and he took me out to ride my broom for a while until I calmed down. And then it turned out that Draco wasn't really mad at me, but just scared, like that time I got lost at the Malfoys and Daddy couldn't find me."

"Mummy, did you ever feel like that about Daddy James? Daddy says that Daddy James got in trouble a lot when he was in school and that sometimes he thought you were gonna rip his head off. Okay, daddy just clarified," here Harry looked up smartly at his daddy and smirked while Severus rolled his eyes. "He said that he didn't say that. He probably put it nicer, but I'm the one askin', right?"

"Daddy says I've got to go bed now. Tomorrow I've got a maths test. Daddy says that maths will help me in potions, so I gotta get through it, even if I don't want to. I love you Mummy. I love you Daddy James. Maybe you two can get a ghost cat and I can meet it someday later on?"

He scooted off to bed, leaving his daddy in front of the candles just like all of the other years. He knew that his daddy wanted a chance to say something too, but that he wouldn't do it until he made space for him.

Back in the room he had just vacated, Severus was still standing in front of the candles, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"That last comment was a barb at me, Lily. The boy wants a cat, but last week he wanted a dog, so I do believe we shall wait on making that decision for a while longer. Besides, with Hagrid around, who really needs pets?"

"Daddy."

"Hm?" Severus asked, looking up from his potions journal.

"So I was thinkin'," Harry said, fitting his eight year-old self easily between the soft arm of the sofa and his daddy's body.

"Heaven forbid," his daddy said with a smirk.

"I was thinking," Harry repeated, purposely ignoring his dad's attempt at humour.

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow's my birthday—."

"Drat, I was hoping you had forgotten," his daddy interrupted with a teasing look.

Harry glared up at him. "Dad," he growled. "I'm tryin' to say something here."

"Oh. Please forgive me. Continue," his dad said, just barely managing to remain serious.

"I think we should go to the pet store tomorrow."

"Harry, we have discussed this already," his daddy answered in a quiet voice, moving his arm around his much smaller shoulders.

"You said that I wasn't mature enough yet. Well, I think a nine year-old is. Besides, this'll be a good chance to show you that I can be trusted. Right, Daddy?"

Serious green eyes stared back at him, and for a moment, Severus found himself lost in their depths.

He regained his focus and noticed his son was still staring sternly up at him. "I suppose," he sighed at last.

"Really?" Harry's face abruptly lightened.

"Yes. However, if we do find a pet, then it will be your sole responsibility. I'll not be cleaning up after some wayward rat or messy cat of yours."

"I'm not stupid, dad," his son answered, sounding affronted.

"No son," he answered, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "That you certainly are not."

. . .

The next day came around a lot faster than Severus had been expecting, and it wasn't long before he found himself standing in a pet store on Diagon Alley, holding the hand of a nearly bouncing child.

"Dad," his son whispered excitedly. "Isn't it great!"

"Fascinating," he answered with only a tiny bit of sarcasm in his voice. It was rather interesting to behold all of the species that the pet store had shoved into one small space, and his mind speculated on what kind of mess there would should they ever all suddenly get free.

"Well son, which would you like to look at first?"

"The reptiles!"

And subsequently, he found himself being dragged in that direction, his son's mind set on one thing and one thing only.

"Aren't they cute?" Harry cried out happily, dashing around the heated glass enclosures excitedly.

"I wouldn't necessarily use that adjective," Severus answered slowly, with a raised eyebrow at his hyper child.

Was I that overactive as a child when I was his age? It didn't seem possible.

"Ohhh. Dad!" His son said in a voice that was half breath and all awe.

Severus looked into the case and had to admit—at least privately—that the snake his son was currently mesmerized by was extremely pretty. It was less than two feet long, if Severus's eyes were anything to go by, but thinner than his arm. It was some variety of wizarding coral snake, with alternating rings of green and purple up and down its sleek body. The purple seemed to nearly glow with an unearthly radiance, lighting up the space around the snake.

Then it moved and Severus had to bite his lip to prevent himself from exclaiming aloud.

"Daddy!" His son squealed loudly enough for them both, and then turned and grabbed his hand tightly. "It has two heads! Do you see it? Daddy, please, can I have this one? Please please please," he begged, his bright green eyes pleading just as much as the words spilling from his mouth.

"It will be your responsibility, Harry," Severus intoned in a deep voice.

"I know! I'll take really good care of it—just like you take care of me!"

He really couldn't say no to that. Besides, he knew better than most that his son was unusually mature. He liked to think it was because of his influence as a father, but he sometimes felt deep in his heart that it was likely a leftover effect of the abuse he had suffered before coming into his care.

"Fine," he answered with a sigh.

Harry threw his arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly.

"Thank you daddy," his son whispered against his chest, making him smile just a bit at the boy's overly exhibitionistic action.

It wasn't until they were home that Severus got his own surprise.

He was setting up the tank on one side of Harry's room, when he heard a strange hissing sound coming from where his son was with the snake. Automatically thinking the worst, he whirled around, his wand already in hand, only to come to a complete and dead halt in the middle of the room.

His son was the one who was hissing.

It seemed that his son was a Parselmouth.

"Child?" He called out, breaking Harry's attention away from the snake still cradled in the boy's arms.

"Oh daddy!" Harry bounced up and raced over to him. "She's so pretty, don't you think Daddy?"

"What—," he started, licking his lips delicately as he tried to calm himself. "What is her name, child?"

"I don't know," Harry answered with a befuddled look. "I'll ask her!"

He watched—and listened—in fascination as his son turned to the snake and let out a series of sibilant hisses before falling silent, his head cocked to the side as he listened to her answer.

"Sssilandra," Harry answered at long last, a wide smile on his face.

"Not merely Silandra, but Sssilandra?" Severus asked, feeling a bit foolish as he tried to imitate his son's pronunciation of the snake's name.

"Well," Harry answered slowly, "It's okay if you have to call her Silandra, but I'll be calling her Sssilandra."

"'If I have to?'" He asked, feeling somewhat insulted.

"Well yeah. Weren't you listening when she explained about how to say her name?" His son looked up at him earnestly.

"Son, I cannot understand snakes. For that matter, I could not understand you when you were conversing with her either," he answered very calmly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"But—," Confusion came over his face and he gazed up at Severus with a questioning look.

"You were speaking something called 'Parseltongue,'" Severus explained, pulling his son in next to him and giving his shoulders a squeeze.

"Really?"

"Yes, child," he answered, hesitating as he deliberated whether to tell his son the rest.

"What is it dad?" Trusting green eyes stared up at him and he swallowed around the sudden restriction in his throat.

"The only other known Parselmouth in the past century was the Dark Lord," he answered.

His son shivered against him and he held on just a little tighter.

Silandra weaved herself around Harry's arms and finally up around his neck. Severus watched as Harry's hand came up and he idly stroked her sleek scales gently, his face lost in thought.

"But I like snakes, Dad," his son said, making him shake his head with the randomness of the boy's statement.

"Yes, and so?"

"Well so, I don't care if some stupid ol' Dark Lord could talk to them too. I like 'em, and Silandra likes me, and I think that it's really cool that I can understand her, and she thinks so too!"

Severus found himself smiling his own smile down at his son's indignant response.

"Some people will think you are dark because of it," he warned.

"Some people," his son answered with a growl, "already think so, 'cause you're my dad. That just shows how stupid they are, 'cause you're the best and most honorable person in the whole world!"

Severus blinked. He wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Thank you, son," he finally managed.

"Well, it's true," Harry said defiantly, just as Silandra began hissing again. He stopped speaking and leaned his head over towards her as he listened.

"What did she say?"

"She thinks you smell good and if that's good enough for her, then it ought to be good enough for everyone."

The snake had spoken.

And as a Slytherin, Severus decided to listen to her and let the matter drop. His son was capable enough to handle any difficulties that came up after this on his own.

Harry met James Potter for the first time when he was five. He was also asleep.

. . .

He opened his eyes and found himself standing in an open field with the sun on his face and a light breeze tickling his scalp. With a grin, he giggled to himself and began running full out across the grass, his feet barely touching the ground as he moved. He looped around an old oak tree, jumping easily over its numerous roots and then ran back the opposite direction.

Coming back, he tripped over his own feet and very nearly took a nosedive into the fresh green earth, only to be caught by the arm and pulled back upright.

Was it his daddy?

He turned to see and nearly barked out in surprise. It was another man and he didn't know him.

So why was he in Harry's dream?

"Daddy says I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers," little Harry said, looking distrustfully up at the messy haired man standing opposite him.

The man's face seemed to tighten for a moment and Harry took a careful step backwards. True, as a five year old, he wasn't nearly so frightened around adult people as he once had been before coming to live with his Tall Man, but threat was still remembered.

He watched carefully as the man crouched down on the ground, close enough for Harry to touch his face—if he wanted—and just looked at him. He seemed more sad than anything else, and little Harry felt a little bad for being afraid. After all, the man had kept him from falling, right?

Better than Auntie!

"You're all right then?" The strange man asked him, talking so quietly that Harry wasn't even sure he had intended to speak out loud.

"I'm okay," he answered anyway, in a whisper, just in case his daddy was around somewhere and happened to get angry at him for disobeying one of his rules. "I no—I didn't fall. All better," he said, stretching his arms out to show him.

"And—And you're happy?" The man asked him in a halting voice.

Little Harry peered up into his blue eyes that stared out at him from under thick spectacles and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Who are you?" He asked, crouching down like the man and putting his own small hands around his tiny knobby knees.

Here, the man gave him a smile, but Harry didn't think he did it because he was happy. His eyes turned down too much in the corners and his hands were knotted up in front of his body.

"Harry, who's your other daddy?"

Harry blinked, surprised that the unknown man would know about that.

"James Potter! Why? D'ya know him?" He asked, forgetting briefly that James Potter was dead. It didn't seem like a very relevant point at the particular moment.

The man gave a small snort, an almost chuckle really, and Harry waited patiently, leaning slightly from side to side to keep his feet from going numb.

"Has Sn—has your dad ever shown you pictures of him?"

Harry shook his head in the negative.

"What do you know about him?"

"That I gots his hair," little Harry answered quickly, pointing up at his head with one tiny finger to reemphasize it.

"And?"

The little boy leaned back and plopped his rump down on the soft grass and thought carefully about the man's question.

"Ands," he said softly, a consternated look on his tiny face, "Ands he was my firstest daddy, ands he loved me and my angel mummy, ands he and daddy bot' went to Hog'arts." Done with his recitation, Harry nodded his head firmly to himself, sure that he had not left anything out.

"You also have his knees," the man said, following his lead and sitting down on the ground too.

Harry looked doubtfully down at his knees and then back at the man. "How you know?"

"See, I knew James Potter rather well," the man answered slowly.

"Was you his friend?" Unconsciously, Harry scooted forwards ever so slightly, his attention fully on the man.

"Most of the time," the man answered with a great boisterous laugh—one that seemed too great for the answer given.

"You weren't means to him, were you?" Harry looked disapprovingly up at the man, tiny little brows lowered in a frighteningly accurate portrayal of his Tall Man.

"Not on purpose, I promise," the man gave him a great big smile, the gentle kind that made the worried expression disappear from little Harry's face.

"What was he like?"

"Hm," it was the man's turn to look thoughtful. "He was a fool, but a nice one, at least most of the time!" Another smile that Harry smiled back at, and then the man continued. "He talked too much, and sometimes he got in trouble too much, but he loved his friends and he was loyal to them as he best he knew how."

The man lapsed into silence and Harry moved up on his little knobby—other Daddy inherited—knees, looking at him again with another thoughtful expression.

"Did they love him?"

"He thought they did," a cloud passed over the sun and Harry gave a little shiver at the sudden change in temperature. In the shadow, the man looked very sad suddenly and before he had a chance to change his mind, he was on his feet and had walked right up to the stranger.

"Daddy always hugs me when I feel bad," he said just as the cloud moved on, opening up the sun to them once more. "I coul' hug you, if you wanted. Would that make you feel better?"

"I'm sure it would," the man said, an odd brightness coming into his eyes just before little Harry put his arms around his neck.

He smelled warm and familiar, but Harry didn't know why. It wasn't until after he had woken up and asked his daddy for a picture of his other daddy that he understood why.

When his Tall Man asked him if he remembered anything about his other daddy, little Harry gave him a tiny smile and then reached out for a hug.

"I 'member more'n I thought I did," he whispered, unaware of the tears that fell quietly down James's cheeks at his words.

Severus opened the door to his quarters with a barely disguised grimace on his face. His small son was hiding behind him, holding fast to the backs of his robes and peering out shyly around him at the visitor standing in the doorway.

"Severus," the wolf—er, Lupin greeted him with a far too pleasant expression.

"Lupin," he answered, leaving the growl out of his voice for once.

And then Lupin knelt down and looked at a spot just behind Severus's right hip.

"Harry. It's good to see you," Lupin's voice was calm, but Severus didn't need a wolf's senses to hear the delight behind the polite façade.

The grip on the back of his robes tightened and then he heard a faint, "Hi," issue out his son's throat.

"Come in then," Severus gritted out in that same almost growl as he stepped aside to reluctantly allow the man to enter.

If you must, he added in his mind.

Lupin moved past him with a small smile on his haggard face and Severus shut the door behind him. He tried to take a step towards the sitting area of his quarters, only to be brought up short by the insistent grip of his son on his clothes.

Severus turned and then knelt down like the wolf had done only moments before, peering carefully into the slightly worried face of his boy.

"Daddy," Harry whispered anxiously. "He smell like Auntie Min, bu' not." The little boy nodded earnestly, his bright green eyes staring up at him intently.

"That's because he is, Harry," Severus said, swinging the boy into his arms easily as he stood back up.

"He don't smell like a kitty, tho' Daddy."

"He can smell that?" Lupin asked in interest from the centre of the room, where he had been patiently reading through the titles on some of Severus's bookcases.

"Amongst other things," Severus said simply, not wanting to elaborate unless it was necessary.

Harry helped him fix tea, and then very carefully carried out a plate of biscuits, while Severus followed him with the tea; the cream and sugar floating behind him as he walked. Once everyone had been served, Harry crawled into his lap and Severus handed him his much smaller mug; its sides already spelled against burning little hands.

"So Harry," Lupin began in a casual voice, his bright golden eyes shining with excitement. "Severus is your daddy now? How do you like that?"

"My Tall Man is da bestest," little Harry answered brightly, curling up comfortably against Severus's chest. "He always puts me ta bed, and kisses me and loves me, and I loves him!" The boy declared unashamedly. "Right, daddy?"

Lupin peered at him interestedly and Severus fought against the urge to blush in the face of such an overwhelming exclamation of feeling.

"Correct, Harry," he replied instead, wrapping his free arm around Harry's middle and giving the little boy a squeeze.

"Tell me more about how he managed to come under your care, Severus," Lupin asked carefully, his eyes calculating as he watched them interact.

"Albus didn't feel it necessary to enlighten you?"

"Albus told me that you would be better at explaining it," Lupin countered coolly.

"It's not really my story to tell," Severus replied softly, stroking Harry's hair gently and taking a sip of his tea. "Harry, please tell Mr. Lupin about your angel."

Lupin's eyes widened briefly before the man got control of himself.

"Oh!" Little Harry said brightly, sitting upright with a jerk that nearly knocked his tea askew.

"Careful," Severus admonished, tapping one long finger on the small button boy's nose.

"Sorry daddy," his son answered with a remorseful look, his lower lip poking out just a tad.

"No harm was done, silly boy. But you must always be careful around hot things, remember?"

"Yes daddy," his child said in a soft voice, still looking chastised.

"Harry, weren't you just about to tell me about your angel?" Lupin interjected then, drawing Harry's attention back towards him.

"She's gots eyes lik' mine," Harry answered in a soft voice, finishing up his tea with a swallow that was just shy of a gulp. He handed him the mug and Severus floated it back to his kitchen with a wave of his wand.

Now that Harry's hands were free, he wrapped them around Severus's much larger ones and held on tightly.

"An' red hair," he added after a moment of thought. "Daddy says she's my mummy—so's I call her my mummy angel," the little boy said, bringing one small hand up to cover his mouth as he gave a half-hearted yawn.

Severus looked down his son with a smile shining in his eyes. Lupin had not been able to stop by until after supper, and the little boy's bedtime wasn't too far away. Between that and the discomfort the lad still seemed to have with strangers, it wasn't a surprise to him that Harry was getting sleepy.

"And your mummy—your mummy angel," Lupin asked, correcting himself before the little boy had a chance to. "She brought you here?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, curling up in a comfortable ball against Severus's chest. "An' my Tall Man gave me Capt'n, and now we bot' live wit' Daddy, 'cause he loves us an' wouldn't know what ta do wit' all his spare time if he didn't have us."

"Is that right?" Lupin asked Harry, his eyes glancing up at Severus; giving him a smile that he scowled back at.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, curling his fingers around the front of Severus's robes and relaxing further into his embrace.

"And who is 'Captain,' Harry?"

"He's my frien'," Harry said, looking up at Severus with an imploring look.

"Very well," Severus said with a glower that Harry only smiled at. "Accio Captain," he said, summoning the small pink bear into their arms.

"Capt'n!" Harry greeted his dark robed and glasses wearing bear happily, squeezing him to his small chest tightly.

"Pink, Severus?" Lupin asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

"What's wrong wit' pink?" The little boy in his arms demanded, giving Lupin a very Snape-like glare.

"Nothing, cub!" The man gave a laugh, the smile taking years off of his previously haggard appearance.

"Cub?" Harry caught the term and his small brow wrinkled in thought. Severus knew that look. It was the same expression the child had worn just before hugging Hagrid.

The men in the room seemed to be holding their breaths as the little boy thought carefully through his few memories.

And then, the small voice spoke again, the tone much more hesitant than before. "Uncle Moony?"

"Yes, cub," Remus answered, suddenly blinking hard at them both.

"You was friends wit' my Mummy?" The boy asked carefully.

"Yes, baby," Remus nodded hard and Severus looked down at his son to provide the man some privacy with his suddenly overwhelming emotions. "And your daddy James," he added in a much more sedate voice.

"My udder daddy," Harry clarified with a nod.

"Yes, child; your other daddy."

"What abou' my Tall Man?"

Severus did look back up at Remus at that question, not entirely sure what the other man would say. Oh, he knew what would be good to say, and he knew what the truth would be, but he didn't actually know what the man would say to Harry.

"Am I friends with him?" Remus asked carefully.

"Yeah," Harry answered softly, face and body clearly tired, but green eyes still staring sharply out at the man. "He's da bestest in da world."

"Well then, who am I to argue with that logic?" Remus answered with a smile, leaning back in his seat and staring calmly back at them.

"So?" Harry asked, not to be dissuaded from getting his answer.

"I shall be his friend as long as he is mine," Remus said, a challenge in his eyes as he looked into Severus's own.

"Good," Harry answered, a satisfied smile on his face as he closed his eyes and rested his head on Severus's shoulder.

Little Harry was warm and sleepy where he was sprawled across his daddy's lap; head resting against his tall man's chest as he listened to his bedtime story rumble against his ear.

"And they lived happily ever after," his daddy concluded in a soft voice, stroking his hair gently.

"Forev'r and ev'r?" Little Harry whispered around his thumb, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Yes, child," his daddy confirmed, still stroking his hair.

"Dat's good," he sighed, finally drifting off to sleep.

. . .

Sometimes at the end of the day, after all of Harry's toys had been put away, after bath time and after story time, Severus would sit down beside his son's bed and watch him sleep.

A sleeping Harry was nearly as active as his waking counterpart. He scooted, rolled and generally wriggled his way up and down the bed for most of the night. In contrast, when he slept next to Severus in his big bed, the little boy stayed completely still.

"A peculiarity to be sure," Severus muttered to himself from his seat next to the child's bed.

The other thing that amused him was that Harry also somehow managed to keep a hold on his teddy bear, Captain the entire time as well. If Severus hadn't known better, then he would have sworn his son was using his accidental magic to stick the bear's soft body to his hands, but it wasn't so (he had checked).

Harry still had nightmares; something that Severus would be blaming on the Dursleys for years to come, considering they were most often the centre of them. However, he had learned over time that if he waited for the little boy to fall deeper into sleep before leaving his side, then the likelihood of his son having those dreams was greatly diminished.

Severus checked the time and then laid his hand on the child's head as he whispered, "Goodnight son. I will be here if you need me."

He stood up and exited the room, leaving the door open a crack as he went.

. . .

Harry awoke with a gasp, his arms already around his knees as he instinctively burrowed himself into the smallest, most inconspicuous spot in the bed.

His nightmares that revolved around Uncle Vernon and Dudley almost always caused him to wake up screaming, because in them they were always hurting him—or about to.

But other dreams weren't as straightforward as that, dreams like the one that he had just woken up from.

Idly he ran a hand over his face, wiping the tears off his cheeks before they had a chance to roll into his ears anymore. As he moved his hand, he felt the soft presence of Captain lying beside him, and even in his shaky unhappiness, he still managed to smile a little at his discovery.

"What happened?" He imagined Captain asking him.

He reached out and pulled Captain to his chest and buried his face in his friend's familiar and furry tummy.

"She didn't wan' me," he managed to say, his lip trembling mightily as he remembered the feelings associated with the dream.

"Who?"

"My aun—Petunia," he answered, correcting himself automatically. Daddy had said that as his son, he didn't have to be related to her anymore!

The Petunia dreams were somehow the worst of the Dursley dreams. She never physically hurt him in those dreams, but what she did was worse somehow. He would say something and she would ignore him. He would cry out and she would ignore him. And then, something bad would happen, something would catch on fire and he'd really need help, and suddenly she'd be there swooping down on him. She always grabbed him by the ear and threw him against the wall, her eyes blazing frighteningly and he would shrink and try to get away and she would follow him, screaming.

"We don't want you! Little nasty orphan boy! Wicked! Horrible! I hate you! I wish you would do us a favour and die, you little vile ragamuffin!"

And she would kick out at him, but in the dream her kicks didn't touch him, but her words felt like punches to the stomach, making him nauseated and terrified as she continued to berate him. When he woke up, the loneliness would settle in his stomach and he'd grip himself like he was now, riding out the waves of misery until he remembered that he didn't have to be alone.

Daddy!

"Come on Capt'n, we gotta go to Daddy," he whispered, pulling his little pink friend out of the bed with him.

His pyjama covered feet would pad softly across the carpet, and he would go through the bathroom towards his daddy's room, moving confidently through the near darkness. He didn't use his eyes in the dark, but instead relied on his other senses and his memory of the layout of the rooms to help him move silently and carefully.

He could smell his toothbrush as he passed it, and the so-called unscented toilet paper that the house elves stocked all of the bathrooms with. And then he was in his daddy's room and he could smell his Tall Man. An unconscious smile lit up his face, and he imagined that Captain's face held a similar such look.

He resisted the urge to jump into his daddy's arms, no matter how much he wanted to, because he didn't actually want to wake him up. He just wanted to be close to his daddy, close enough to tuck himself into his Tall Man's arms and know that he was wanted.

"And loved," he imagined Captain adding silently in his head.

He nodded in agreement, and then he carefully made his way under his daddy's soft covers, finding his daddy's arms and moving them around his body as he pushed himself back first into the man's chest.

He smiled again as his daddy's arms squeezed around his middle gently, even though his Tall Man was still completely asleep.

"Better?" Captain asked him quietly.

"Yeah," he whispered, snuggling up to his father comfortably, his eyelids already heavy again.

Six year old Harry was staying with Hagrid one afternoon while his daddy worked on a series of Very Important potions for the headmaster, when suddenly something fuzzy bounded into the room.

"A doggy!" Harry exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight.

The half-grown Great Dane trotted over to him and licked his face in response. He threw his arms around the dog's neck and got an excited bark for his efforts.

"Ah Harry!" Hagrid said, coming back into the cabin with an armload of firewood. "I see yeh've met Fang!"

"I've always wanted a doggy!" The little boy proclaimed, looking up at Hagrid with wide hopeful eyes.

Hagrid, not being very much more than a little boy himself in some ways, didn't see a problem with granting that request. Thus, with a boisterous laugh, he said, "Well then Harry, he's yers!"

Fang, who was still very much a puppy at this point, thought that was a grand idea and immediately began licking Harry's face again.

When Hagrid dropped Harry and Fang off at Severus' quarters three hours later, the boy and dog were already on their way to being best of friends.

"Is yer dad around here somewhere?" Hagrid asked, looking at the empty quarters in some concern.

"Um," little Harry said, running to the door that led to his father's private potions lab. It was locked, but there was a note on the door with his name on it. Taking the note, he ran back to Hagrid and handed it over, looking up expectantly.

"Dear 'Arry," Hagrid read off slowly. "I'm in meh lab bottling potions until six. If you will wash yer hands and face, we can go to dinner when I'm done. Love, Dad."

"What time is it now?"

"Huh? Oh, it's fifteen minutes to six. Are you sure I shouldn't wait with you?"

"It's okay, Hagrid! Daddy's jus' in that room there," he pointed with a little finger, already walking Hagrid to the door, Fang trailing along behind them.

"Well, if yer sure, I'll see you later then, 'kay 'Arry?"

"Kay!" He called out as he shut the door. It locked automatically at his touch and he grinned. He loved magic!

Turning around, he noted with some concern that Fang was no longer standing right behind him, but instead he was across the room, sniffing at his Daddy's pile of potions journals. Harry was under strict instructions not to touch them himself, so he reasoned that it was true for Fang as well.

"Fang, come back here!" He called out, patting his leg.

Fang looked up, but he didn't respond to Harry's instructions; instead, he sprinted away in the other direction, heading towards one of Severus' bookshelves.

"No, Fang!" He whispered loudly, chasing after his doggy.

He found Fang standing in front of the bookcase, one of Severus' old tomes on the floor, its pages crumpled and slobbered on.

"Fang!" Harry said in horror. "What did you do?" Harry leapt at his doggy, but Fang jumped out of his way and he tumbled across the floor, bruising his little knees on the hard stone. Jumping up, he limped over to where he had seen his doggy last, only to find a fresh puddle waiting for him instead.

His knees really throbbing now, Harry valiantly sniffled back his impending tears as he searched for his doggy.

Finally, he located him just outside his daddy's lab, scratching on the door. Grabbing Fang around the neck, he got a hold on him just as the door opened to reveal a shocked looking Severus.

"Harry, why is there a mongrel in my quarters?" Severus' voice had dropped into the cold dangerous range that most students quaked in fear at.

Harry sniffled again, and attempted to wipe his shoulder at his eyes.

"Hagrid gave him to me as a gift, daddy! But . . ." Harry trailed off, not certain how to explain the mischief that his friend had already gotten into.

"But?" Severus prompted; his pose still stiff. Without another word, he transfigured one of his handkerchiefs into a leash and clipped it to Fang's collar.

"He only got aways from me fo' a minute, daddy! Honest!" Harry pleaded with a sob.

"Harry, what did he do?" Severus crouched down and took the little boy's chin in his hand.

Stuttering, Harry quickly told Severus about the book and the puddle. At the end of his recitation, he cringed backwards, and half heartedly put a hand up over his face to block the impending blows he expected to feel.

"Child?" He heard his daddy's soft voice ask after a moment of nothing.

Nervously, he lowered his arm and revealed his tear streaked face to daddy. "Daddy?"

Putting a hand to his shoulder, his Tall Man drew him into his chest and hugged him tightly. "What did I tell you I would never ever do to you?" He whispered in Harry's ear.

"But, he tried to eat your book!"

"What did I say?" Severus repeated, looking down at Harry with his warm dark eyes.

"You said you'd never ever hit me daddy," little Harry sniffled and gulped piteously.

"Never ever," his daddy whispered forcefully in his ear. "I wouldn't hurt my Harry. Never!"

Harry heard his words and couldn't help but sob into his daddy's chest. "I'm sorry daddy!"

After giving him a moment to calm down, Severus asked the next question. "What should we do about your furry friend then?"

Harry's lip trembled and he sniffled again. He knew the answer, but he didn't want to say it.

"Harry?" His daddy's voice held just a bit of challenge this time and he forced himself to let out a shuddery breath.

"We haveta give him back ta Hagrid," Harry said mournfully.

"And if Hagrid should offer us another pet in the future?"

Harry pushed his face against his daddy's chest for a moment before answering. "Haveta say no," he finally said, his voice muffled.

"No, you must remember to ask me first. This is my home as much as it is yours, child."

Harry nodded and then stood up with a loud sniffle. If he was going to have to give back his doggy, then he didn't want to wait any longer. Fang, seeing that they were moving, unhelpfully let out a bark and wagged his tail.

Holding the leash, Severus walked Harry and Fang to the door, but stopped just as they were preparing to step out into the corridor.

"Are you hurt, Harry?" He asked, after watching his son try to cover up yet another wince.

Harry shrugged and looked up at Severus with mournful eyes.

"Let me rephrase that, child. Are you physically hurt?" He had gone round and round trying to get Harry to tell him when he was hurt, but his aunt's lessons were too hard ingrained to be forgotten so easily.

"Maybe?" Harry answered, shifting his eyes away from Severus' own piercing ones.

"Harry," Severus warned.

"I mighta falled on my knees," Harry muttered, still not looking at Severus.

Severus instantly knelt down and rolled up Harry's trousers. Already turning purple, the little boy's knees stared back at him painfully. "Child! You are to tell me when you are hurt. I need to know so I can help you."

With a wave of his wand, Severus quickly summoned the bruise healing paste and began applying it to his son's injured joints. Then, he pulled him into his arms and propped Harry on a convenient hip for their trip down to Hagrid's.

Harry sniffled almost continuously on the way there, and although Hagrid looked sad to see them on his doorstep, he had nodded his big shaggy head in understanding when Severus had explained that he didn't have the time to properly look after a pet.

"Well, if you ever want ta see Fang, you just come down and visit me, 'Arry!" Hagrid said as they left.

"Okay, Hagrid," Harry said with a watery smile. "I will."

"Daddy," a nine year old Harry Snape said to his father, Severus Snape one morning. "Who's Sirius Black?"

That wasn't a question he'd been expecting at all; certainly not at half-past six in the morning, and it took Severus a moment to pull himself together. Buttering his toast gave him a moment to avoid looking at those imploring green eyes staring up at him from across the table, and just for good measure, he added a sip of coffee as well.

"Sirius Black . . ." he managed to croak out finally. "He . . . and I, and Remus—."

"Uncle Remus," Harry corrected softly, interrupting Severus in a way that he alone could get away with.

"Do not interrupt me, imp," Severus allowed himself a small smile, despite the circumstances.

"Sorry Daddy," Harry answered, not looking contrite in the least.

"He and I, along with Uncle Remus," he paused and raised an eyebrow at his son, who nodded happily and waved him to continue. "Attended Hogwarts . . . together, back in the 70s."

The idea that he did anything together with Sirius Black made him cough, and he followed the statement with another swig of coffee.

Narrowing his eyes as a thought came to him, he peered over his coffee cup and asked, "Why do you suddenly know that name?"

"Uncle Remus told me by acc'dent," his son explained with a disinterested shrug before snagging one of the apples at the centre of the table.

"Accident?" Severus raised an eyebrow, watching his son efficiently begin demolishing the apple in his hand.

Pausing to swallow a bite, Harry looked back across the table and nodded. "He was showing me some pictures, Daddy. And a strange man walked into da picture and I said, who's that? And Uncle Remus said it was Sirius Black, 'fore looking kind of sick and pale, like he does once a month." Harry gave him a significant glance.

Severus nodded, but didn't say anything. It was just as well, given that Harry wasn't finished.

"And I said, well who's that? But all Uncle Remus would say was that I was to ask you, 'cause he wasn't saying anything else."

Smart man, Severus thought wryly.

"So why was he in Uncle Remus' picture, Daddy?" His son's eyes were piercing his skin again, or so it felt.

"I believe I mentioned that we attended school together," Severus said, knowing better than to hope that Harry would let it go at that.

"Was he a Slytherin?"

Severus coughed again, fighting the urge to give a bitter sounding laugh in front of his son. There was nothing quite like doing something out of character to set Harry on guard.

"No. He was a Gryffindor."

"Like Uncle Remus and my other daddy," Harry nodded in a matter of fact way, more to himself than to Severus.

"And your mum, Harry," Severus pointed out.

There was no way he would ever allow Harry to forget about her. Remus was good about providing stories about James, but Severus had spent much of his life devoted to Lily, and wasn't about to let a pesky thing like her death stand in his way.

"And my mummy," Harry adjusted his statement with a small smile. "My angel," he added softly.

"Your angel," Severus nodded in agreement.

"So, Uncle Remus was in Gryffindor with Sirius Black, like my other daddy and my mummy, and they all went ta Hogwarts back in the 70s with my Daddy," Harry continued on a few bites of apple later.

"Yes."

"Was he friends with my Uncle Remus?" Harry's sharp eyes stared back at him, and Severus remembered how stubborn the boy could be about figuring out something unknown.

Feeling his appetite waning, Severus leaned back in his chair and tossed his napkin onto his plate.

"Yes," he answered.

"Good friends?" His son asked, delicately licking the juicy remainder of the apple off his fingers.

"Yes," Severus answered, ignoring the urge to growl at the memory.

"Was he friends with my other daddy and my mummy?"

"Sirius Black was good friends with Remus, James and another boy named Peter. He didn't truly become friends with your mother until his seventh year or so, and that was largely because James started dating her then," Severus reeled off. He did not mention that by this point, Lily had completely stopped speaking with him, and he had been forced to make his observations from afar.

"Did you like him?" Harry asked, wiping his hands off carefully.

Severus noted the tension in his son's small frame, but did not bring it up. His son knew him better than anyone, and his feelings about Sirius Black had never been hidden very well.

"I did not. Although to be fair, I can honestly say that he never cared for me either."

Standing up, Harry made his way over to where Severus was still seated and climbed into his lap.

"Did I say you could make your way into my chair like some kind of heathen creature?" Severus asked, trying to sound put off, knowing that his son could easily see through his act.

"More like a heathen Harry," his son giggled softly into the front of his robes. A black scruffy head leaned against his chest and Severus brought up a hand to gently stroke it.

"Was he mean to you?" Was Harry's next softly asked question.

"Yes," Severus answered after a moment, wrapping an arm around Harry's midsection and hugging him tightly, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

"Mean like Aun—like Petunia?"

Severus looked down to find green orbs staring up at him and shook his head. "Not many are as bad as Petunia. Black simply found my existence horrifying and took great pleasure in trying to make me miserable." The laugh he'd held back before bubbled up in his throat and he tried to swallow down around it.

"Did he do it alone or did my other daddy help him?"

It was times like this that Severus thought it highly likely that his son could be sorted into Ravenclaw.

Severus sighed. "They called themselves 'The Marauders.' Sirius Black and James Potter were the main two members of it, but Uncle Remus and Peter Pettigrew also joined in on some of the less . . . violent pranks."

He felt thin arms reach out around him as a small head rubbed its face insistently against his chest. "I'm sorry Daddy."

"Whatever for?"

"For making you remember. I'm sorry that they was mean to you."

"It's not your fault," Severus answered, saying the words that he had slowly come to grips with over the first year of having Harry as a son.

"Still sorry," Harry murmured.

"As am I, Harry," Severus answered finally, resting his own cheek on the top of his son's head.

He did not need to clarify what he was sorry for.