Spinner’s End

Manchester

June 30th, 1991:

Severus Snape considered taking Dreamless Sleep before going to bed that night, but changed his mind.  His dreams were odd and unpleasant, but not really of the nightmare variety. Unless one considered being trapped in the body of a ten-year-old boy a nightmare.  Besides, if the dreams he’d been having for two nights straight were visions, then Dreamless Sleep would do nothing to eradicate them.  Severus was a Seer, the gift inherited through the Prince line, and it was this talent that made him so invaluable to the Department of Mysteries.  Severus’ visions were specific in nature, meaning he only saw visions of the future that warned of terrible things happening, things which he was shown so events could be altered, if acted upon in a timely fashion.  But his gift was sporadic, it only worked when it felt like it, and Severus had never been able to call upon his Sight at will.

His work as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries often led him to see strange and wondrous things, as well as awful ones.  But his dreams were usually brief and forgotten upon waking. 

Until now.

Severus leaned back upon his pillows, stuffed with griffin feathers, since he was allergic to goosedown, and closed his eyes.  No sooner had he drifted off, then the dream returned.

It was dark and cramped in the cupboard, he had to sit with his knees pulled up to his chest now that he had started growing taller. He was nearly too big to fit inside any more, but that didn’t matter to his aunt or uncle.  Whenever they were displeased with him, into the cupboard he would go.

He began to shiver, he was so hungry, he hadn’t had anything to eat in days, and was dizzy and felt sick and weak.  He was also very thirsty and kept licking his lips, but there was no moisture to be found.  It was stuffy in the enclosed space and he could smell the stench of sweat and urine from the bucket they had put in there with him to relieve himself, since Vernon didn’t want him being let out to use the bathroom.  That in turn made him feel nauseous.

He thought he had been in the cupboard about a week, ever since the incident at the zoo with the python.  He coughed and tried to breathe shallowly, ignoring the pains in his stomach.  Surely they would let him out soon . . . they had never kept him locked up for more than a week before . . .

Severus jerked awake as the vision abruptly threw him back into the here and now.  He sat up, flicking on a lamp with a wave of a hand.  As part of his training as an Unspeakable, he had mastered a great deal of wandless magic, the natural focusing of his mind and self-discipline required of that particular skill came easy to him. 

Again with the dream! Why do I keep seeing this child, feeling what he feels? Who is he? Severus wondered.

Because of the darkness of the cupboard, he had been unable to make out the boy’s facial features, but the sense of urgency the vision brought compelled him to try and discover who it might be.  Wherever this boy was, he was being mistreated and Severus knew he had to stop it if he could.  The child must not be left there, the boy’s life was too important to be put at risk that way.  That was one thing the vision imparted to him all too well.

Too uneasy to go back to sleep, Severus rose and decided to head into the kitchen to make himself some tea.  He made his own herbal blend and right now drinking some made more sense than remaining in bed, tossing and turning.

The tea kettle had just begun to whistle when Severus  heard soft footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw the tall dark blond figure of his father, Tobias, enter the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, Sev? Can’t sleep again?” Tobias asked, his gray eyes bright with concern.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” his son asked, removing the kettle from the stove and pouring it out into his mug. 

“I’m a light sleeper, you know that,” Tobias said gruffly, waving away his apology. His hair was sticking up and he was dressed in a comfortable gray T-shirt and green boxers.  Then he grinned roguishly and said, “Thought the house was on fire, that teapot has a whistle like a siren.”

“I should have Silenced it,” said Severus, frowning. “Do you want a cuppa?”

“Why not?” Tobias accepted a cup from Severus and tossed five teaspoons of sugar in it.

His son’s eyebrows rose. “Want some tea with the sugar bowl?” he joked.

“Be quiet, Sev.  These herbal blends taste like hot dishwater sometimes.”

“Are you saying I can’t brew a proper pot of tea?” his son demanded, pretending to be insulted.

Tobias smirked. “You said it, not me.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Dad. You should stick to building houses, comedy isn’t your forte.”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy,” Tobias mock-growled, waggling a finger at his dark-haired son. He snitched a peanut butter oatmeal bar from the plate in the middle of the table and munched it while sipping the tea.  His wizard son soon joined him, though he decided to forgo the sweet, figuring it would make him have even more strange dreams.

They drank their tea in companionable silence for a few moments before Tobias asked knowingly, “So, you have another of your crazy dreams about the kid in the cupboard?”

Severus nodded.  “I just wish I knew why.  Or who it was. But each time the dream never shows me his face.”

“Or tells you his name.” His father remarked. “Bloody obscure talent.” He finished off his oatmeal bar and reached for another one.

“Thought you were trying to lose weight?”

“Changed my mind,” the other snorted.  “Who am I trying to impress at my age, huh?”

“You make it sound as though you’re ancient. You’re only fifty.”

“Quit trying to change the subject.  You’ve had these dreams for what—three nights now?”

“Two.”

“Maybe  they’re trying to tell you something.”

“You think so?” drawled Severus sarcastically.

Tobias frowned, but allowed the remark to pass. He sensed that his son was more disturbed by the recurring dreams than he let on, and he didn’t want to add to the stress by jumping down Severus’ throat for his sharp tongue. Like Tobias, Severus tended to get snarky when he was upset.  Tobias had learned from his own experience that the best way to settle his temper and his son’s was to remain calm and unruffled.  “Would it help if you . . .err . . .pulled that memory out of your head and put it in that sieve thing?”

“A Pensieve?” Severus clarified. Tobias knew a fair amount about the wizarding world from being around his son, but on some things he was still sketchy.  “No, because the memory would only show the dark cupboard in the dream.” He sighed and took another gulp of tea.  “I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.  Something will eventually link itself to the dream and then I can act. I just hate waiting.”

Tobias nodded, he could understand that. Severus got his impatience from him.  “I know. But sometimes there’s no rushing things, Sev.  You have to lay the foundation before you can start building.”

Severus glared down at his teacup. Tobias was an architect, and so he liked to use a lot of comparisons that involved building.  Tobias worked for a progressive construction company which had demolished the old row houses on Spinner’s End and rebuilt better ones at half the cost, selling them at affordable prices to the working class.  The Snapes’ house was a prime example of Tobias’ genius at using light, curves, and angles to create the illusion of a large roomy space. The kitchen would have looked cramped in any other house, but Tobias had put in a high ceiling and subtly rounded the walls so it appeared bigger than it actually was.  The house had been built using shoddy materials when it had first been constructed, but Tobias had rebuilt it using sound timber and brick, so that it would last for years and cost less to maintain.  His motto was, “Spend a little more on decent material and save hundreds of pounds later.”

But such hadn’t always been the case. He had married Eileen Prince when he was eighteen, back when he served as a Royal Marine sergeant.  She had snared him with her mysterious allure and cleverness and her command over magic fascinated him.  Once the two of them had dreamed about making a building company in the wizarding community using both Muggle and magical methods.  But once Severus was born a year later, Eileen’s priorities shifted to her son, and Tobias felt left out. There were arguments about whether or not Severus should be raised wizard or Muggle, Tobias wanted him to have nothing to do with his wizard relatives, who had cut off Eileen without a penny for marrying an “undesirable” Muggle. Eileen disagreed, there were bitter rows over that, and the end result was Severus met his grandparents when he was two, but they refused to allow Tobias to set foot in their manor. 

When Severus was three, the Princes held their annual Christmas gala, and he and Eileen attended. It was there Eileen was introduced to the eligible bachelor, Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy, wizard foster brother of Abraxus Malfoy.  Gil was suave and witty, handsome and slick, he swept Eileen off her feet. He had everything Tobias lacked, and in the end she fell for him.  A year later she served Tobias with divorce papers and moved out with Severus.  Tobias had fought for custody, but the courts had ruled in favor of the mother. 

Tobias detested Gil, was furious that Eileen would allow a perfect stranger to raise his son, and when he came for his first and only visit to Gil’s manor, he showed up drunk and got into a fight with the other man, resulting in Eileen putting a restraining order against him.  He didn’t see Severus again until the boy was ten, and by that time Gil had almost succeeded in destroying his son.  Eileen had passed away in the spring, dying unexpectedly in childbirth.  Her tiny daughter followed her within the week. Gil, not minded to spend any more time or money upon his stepson, sent him back to Tobias, though not as he was before.  It took the architect years to rebuild the trust and affection between himself and Severus, who had lived with a volatile stepfather who detested him for being a half-blood with more magic.

Severus cleared his throat, bringing Tobias back from memory lane.

Severus looked up, meeting his father’s eyes.  “I’ll see if I can find anything in the files on this child tomorrow.” The information network used by the Department of Mysteries was second to none.  Severus, as a seventh level Unspeakable, had access to all the records the department kept on every witch and wizard in Britain.  Somewhere, the identity of the mysterious boy was hidden. And Severus was determined to find him.

“Sounds like a plan,” Tobias agreed. He finished off his tea.  “Well, I’m for bed, Sev.  If I’m not up when you leave tomorrow, have a good day.”

“You too, Dad,” Severus replied, yawning. “See you for supper.”

Now at last he could sleep, and tomorrow begin the search for the elusive child of dreams.

The next day, Severus Flooed to work at the Ministry. As an Unspeakable he performed and studied top secret magical experiments and theories, researching how magic came to be and how humans had inherited it.  They studied the forces of the universe and different paths of magic, such as wandless and shamanic ritual magic, inherited talents, such as Severus’ Sight, even the forbidden dark magics.  Severus was in charge of the Experimental Potions and Drafts Department, and second in command to Marcus Ravenwood in the War Department, where they developed counter spells and shields for dark curses as well as magical items that both defended and destroyed. Everything done in the department was top secret, kept under triple wards and no one, not even the Minister, knew everything that went on down there.  Those who worked there did so under vows of utmost secrecy, and only the brightest and best minds were ever recruited into their ranks.

As he was walking over to the lift that would take him to the ninth level of the Ministry, a winged envelope fluttered right into his face.  He reached up to pluck it off, reading the address quickly, it had been stamped Undeliverable, and returned to the Ministry archives. It should have gone to the Mail Department and a memo sent to whoever had posted the letter, but a fortunate coincidence had caused it to be intercepted by Severus.

Severus read the address rapidly, his jaw slowly dropping open. 

The letter was addressed to:

Mr. Harry Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

“The cupboard under the stairs!” he hissed to himself.  “It can’t be!”

He stared at the envelope again.  Once more he recalled the vivid image of being shut in a dank smelly cupboard, the same images that haunted his dreams.  He recognized the letter, stamped on the obverse with the Hogwarts crest, as being an invitation to attend school there. He had received one, as had every child of magical ability in the British Isles.  The letters were written by magical post beings, half made of wind, whose job it was to address and send out the letters to all the children. 

Undeliverable? Snape thought. But why would that be the case? Nothing short of death usually prevented a post owl from delivering the mail.  This was very odd and also alarming.  Severus knew that Potter lived in a Muggle neighborhood, with his Muggle aunt and uncle and cousin.  Potter’s name had been down in Dumbledore’s book of potential students since he was born, his tuition paid in full all seven years by funds his parents had set aside.

Surely his relatives were not foolish enough to deny him an education? Then he recalled Petunia Evans nee Dursley’s, intolerance for anything magical or anything from that world.  Would she perhaps think she could  thwart the plans her sister had made and keep the boy from the magical community? Severus wouldn’t have put it past her. She had always been terribly jealous of Lily and him. He doubted if the years had mellowed her any.

He clutched the letter in his fist, scowling ferociously.  He had to investigate this.  He hurried into the lift to inform the others in the Department that he needed to follow up on a lead on a rare subject. That was not a lie, Harry was a rare child, who had somehow managed to survive the Killing Curse as a baby. Augustus Rookwood, the titular Head of the Department of Mysteries, had always wanted to examine the boy, but had been forbidden to disturb him by both the Minister and Dumbledore.  But Dumbledore was gone now, having blown himself to bits trying to break a curse upon an ancient ring, but even so, the Ministry still had final say as to who was allowed access to Harry Potter. 

Severus felt his blood turn to ice.  Unknown to any, the Boy Who Lived had, from his visions, been abused.  How that detail had been overlooked was beyond him, but it had.  After speaking to his colleagues, Severus Transfigured his dark cloak and robes to ordinary Muggle clothing, and Apparated to number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, resolved to get to the bottom of this mystery immediately.

He arrived at Privet Drive in a hiss of displaced air, appearing just behind a tall elm tree that overlooked the street.  No one had seen his sudden arrival.  He quickly noticed how alike all the houses and yards looked on the street, like they had come off the same assembly line and landscaping draft board. Very suburban and clean cut . . . and boring.  Severus soon located the one labeled number 4 and started up the walk.

When he reached the front door, he noticed something odd. There was a large lockbox on it and a strip of yellow and black tape that read Do Not Cross. Severus frowned.  Unlike most wizards, he was familiar with Muggle ways, having lived with his Muggle father for over half his life, and he knew those items should not be upon a normal residence.  He noticed in alarm that a front window had been shattered and boarded up and there was no car in the drive. His danger instincts started screaming like mad.  Something was definitely not right here.

He was just about to knock when a voice called from the house to the right, “You won’t find anybody there now.”

“Excuse me? Is this the residence of Petunia and Vernon Dursley?” Severus turned and asked the tall blond man in the tweed trousers and green shirt.

“It was. But they’re gone now.”

“Gone where? On holiday?”

“Good Lord, no! Don’t you read the papers?” exclaimed the other, his eyes wide.

“I’m not from around here,” Severus answered.  “Has something happened to them?”

“I’ll say. Murder-suicide. Happened night before last.  Dursley’s sister came by and found ‘em all dead, and the gun lying next to them on the floor, with her brother’s prints on it.  Police say he must have been drinking, there was alcohol in his system and an empty bottle of gin on the floor.  Went mad and killed his wife and kid and then himself.  Damn shame.”

Severus had to pretend to look shocked.  “Wasn’t there a nephew living with them? I’m a distant cousin and had made arrangements for the boy to spend the summer with me. He would be around ten or eleven. His name is Harry.”

“That’s the odd thing. He wasn’t there when this happened.  I think they’d sent him off to St. Brutus—you know, the reform school? According to his aunt, he was unstable and lied and stole, a real winner.” The neighbor shook his head. 

“But where is he now?”

“Nobody knows, He was supposed to be at St. Brutus’ according to the forms they found inside, but when the police called the school, they had never heard of him. Maybe he ran away or something.  They’d still be searching for him as a suspect except the only prints on the gun were Dursley's.  What a mess! These sort of things never happened ten years ago.” The neighbor shook his head sadly.

“Is anyone still looking for Harry?”

“Oh, I’m sure the police have notices and stuff out there, but it’s hard to trace a delinquent like that who doesn’t want to be found. He could be clear across the country.  Sorry I can’t help more.”

“You’ve been a great help. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The neighbor started to turn and go back to watering his flowers.

Snape was on him in a flash, wand at his temple.  Before the man could move or speak he whispered, “You do not remember me. I was never here, you never saw me. Obliviate!”

There was a brief flicker and then the man continued on into the house, believing his chores finished outside. 

Severus tucked his wand back up his sleeve. As an Unspeakable, he was well versed in Memory Charms, and knew how to cast ones that could eliminate only specific memories. It required a degree of fine control over magic and discipline of his mind in order to do so.  The Ministry allowed him to do so as needed, but even so, he detested them. He felt it was a violation of a person’s privacy and their innermost selves and used them only when absolutely necessary.  As it had been today. Severus wanted no witnesses to his appearance on Privet Drive. 

He quickly unlocked the box with a simple charm and went inside, carefully closing the door behind him. As soon as he crossed the threshold he could feel the taint of dark magic, it hissed and crackled against his shields like hot oil upon a griddle, scrabbling to get through them.

Severus lit up the room with a single word and saw he was standing in an empty hallway, with stairs on one side and a wall on the other.  Against the wall was a small table filled with framed photographs of a towheaded plump youngster, Severus presumed this was their son, called Dudley.  He noticed that nowhere upon the table or the wall which continued down to a darkened room, was there a picture of Lily’s child.  Not even so much as an awkward school-type photo.  His mouth tightened. It was as if they had preferred the boy remain forgotten. Or had never existed.

Swirls of dark magic coalesced in the air, giving off a purplish hue to Snape’s Sorcerer’s Sight.  He felt his skin prickle and thought, some curse was worked in here and then more magic was used to cover it up, so the Muggle law enforcement wouldn’t suspect.  He recalled the neighbor’s story of murder-suicide and thought it too convenient.  Severus knew the Death Eaters. They would have come here looking for the Boy Who Lived, and vented their frustration upon the family if he had not been found.

Severus frowned. The vision had led him here, but where was Harry now? What had really happened two nights past? There was only one way to find out.  Tempus Observari—literally Time View in Latin—a spell that would enable him to see past events as they had actually happened.  That spell was known only to Unspeakables, and it aided them in accurate magical research. It would have also aided Magical Law Enforcement in criminal cases, but the Minister had forbidden any save Unspeakables to know of it, much less use it.  Severus thought Fudge an ass for doing so, but then he had never been an admirer of the plump wizard, considering him a vacillating fool who relied too much on the judgment of others.

He waved his wand, sketching the shape of an hourglass in the air while chanting the spell. Immediately, Snape felt himself tugged backwards and soon he saw the room come to life around him. The spell worked similar to a Pensieve, putting the viewer in the center of the event and allowing them to observe what had gone on. 

Severus saw  a  thin woman with a bony chin and lank blond hair unlock a small door under the stairs and push in a plate with what looked like a thin slice of bread and some moldy cheese.  Then she locked the door and turned, hearing a knock upon the front door.  Petunia opened the door and gasped, staggering backwards, shoved violently by the strangers in the gray robes.

“Who are you? You can’t come in here! Vernon! Help! We’re being robbed!” she screamed.

“Where is he, woman?” hissed one of the Death Eaters.

Petunia continued to shriek.

A portly man appeared and thundered towards the five Death Eaters, holding a shot gun. 

But he never got a chance to fire it.

One of the wizards cast a quick Cruciatus and Vernon dropped to the floor, screaming.

His cries mingled with that of his wife and then their son appeared, took one look at the unexpected visitors and started to run away, but he was quickly caught and dragged back. 

“Where is he, boy? Answer me!” hissed one.

“I don’t know! Please don’t hurt me!” sobbed Dudley, his face white with terror.

“You must know!” snarled the Death Eater gripping the boy hard.  “Tell me and I shall let you die quickly.”

Dudley burst into tears, wailing, “I don’t wanna die! Mummy, Daddy, help!”

“Stupid boy!” raged the Death Eater.  “Answer my question and you shall live a bit longer. Where is the boy?”

“W-what boy?” sniveled Dudley.

“The one who lives with you.”

“Harry? You want Harry?” wheezed the fat child, a glimmer of wicked comprehension dawning in his piggy eyes.  “He’s in there—in the cupboard. He’s in trouble because all those freaky letters started coming.” Dudley pointed to the cupboard.

Severus swore at how easily Dudley had sold out his cousin.

But oddly enough, the Death Eaters could not seem to find the cupboard door. They searched and banged right on the door but seemed unable to see it. They cursed and snarled and beat Dudley, Vernon, and Petunia, demanding they reveal Harry’s whereabouts.  When the three Muggles kept repeating the same thing they had before, the Death Eaters grew impatient, and killed them at last using the Killing Curse, even Dudley. 

Then they ransacked the house searching for any sign of Harry Potter.

Finding nothing, they made as if to depart.  One of them turned back and twirled his wand, and the Glamour settled over the dead bodies, making it appear to Muggle eyes that they had died by the hand of a gun, and not some curse.

Severus grudgingly admitted that was clever. 

Once the last of them had disappeared out the door, Severus blinked and came out of the spell trance.  He had learned that the Death Eaters had somehow managed to circumvent the wards, and come for Harry, but they had not found him.  That was a relief.

He glanced around.  He saw a strange wavering and blurring in the air in front of where the door to the cupboard would be.   Frowning, Snape approached, wondering how the Death Eaters could have missed this. 

The boy’s magic must have acted to conceal and protect him from discovery. And if it did that, he must be very strong for it to shield him so thoroughly, those were not novices on that night. 

Severus cast a Revealing Charm and soon saw the small door of the cupboard, outlined in blue.  The Unspeakable hurried to it and cast an Unlocking Charm.  Then he tugged the door open and  the light fell upon a curled up figure lying on an old mattress with the springs poking out of the side.  The smell of urine and old sweat permeated the air and Severus started to cough in disgust. 

He reached in and tugged at the end of the mattress, dragging it and its occupant out of the cupboard. The small space was hardly large enough to fit the undersized child, who lay motionless and quiet.  “Potter, wake up!” he shook the boy’s shoulder gently. 

But Harry lay limply on the bed, and when Snape’s hand touched the side of his face, he jerked away.

Harry’s skin was hot as a forge and Severus knew then that his unplanned burst of accidental magic had weakened him almost to death, sending him into a near coma. 

Severus swore under his breath and lifted the grimy boy in his arms.  Harry was very light, Severus could feel his ribs right through his baggy shirt , and the dark-robed wizard wondered how long it had been since Harry’s last meal.  Bloody unnatural creatures! They’ve been starving him! And Merlin knows what else they’ve done.

Too long.

One of the reasons Harry was unconscious was because he had not had adequate nourishment before his magic had acted to protect him.  Most wizards engaging in a major spellcasting  made sure they ate heartily before and after it, since adequate nourishment prevented severe magical drain. But Harry hadn’t.  Thus, the spell had drawn upon Harry’s personal magical life energy, and the end result was this coma. Severus knew quite a bit about how magic reacted upon a person’s body because of his research, more even than most Healers, and as he lifted the slight boy, he allowed a trickle of his own magic to flow into the child, just enough to strengthen the boy and keep his heart pumping and his lungs and other organs working, preventing him from sliding further into the twilight realm between life and death.  It was delicate work, he could not afford to flood Harry’s body with magic, or else it would shock his system severely and cause him to have a seizure or a heart attack. 

Severus remained standing there for a few more moments, gently infusing the child with small bursts of his own magic, until he was certain Harry would not sink further into an irreversible coma.  He saw the shadow of a bruise upon one cheek and Harry’s dark hair was shaggy and in need of a trim.  It astonished the Unspeakable that a mere ten-year-old had such potential, had managed to place himself under a spell so powerful that it thwarted seasoned hunters like the Death Eaters. 

Like mother, like son.  The silent urging from the vision was quiescent now.  Time to take you home, child. There I can help you best.

Severus had no fear of being detected by any wizard at his home, he had long ago learned to conceal and misdirect to prevent anyone from the wizarding world from remembering his place of residence, and unless he invited them there, they could not find it.   He lowered his head and concentrated.  An instant later, he reappeared inside the sitting room of his own residence.

Tobias was sitting on the couch, reading the paper.  He looked up and said in astonishment, “Severus, why are you home already? Are you sick? Did they sack you or something?”

“No, Dad.” Severus walked over to the smaller empty divan and leaned over to set the boy upon it.

Tobias gaped at his son and the small boy now lying on his divan. “Severus, what on earth? Is that a kid? Where did you find him?”

“In a cupboard under the stairs.”

“It’s the boy from the vision, isn’t it?”

Severus nodded.  “His name is Harry Potter.  Otherwise known as the Boy Who Lived.”

“Lily’s son? The one who survived that death curse?”

“The same.” He held up a hand. “No more questions right now, Dad. I need to concentrate, or else he’ll be the Boy Who Lived No More.”

Tobias clamped his mouth shut and watched as his son laid his hands upon the frail figure and a blue glow spread from them and covered the child, hoping that the boy could be saved again from the jaws of an untimely death. 

Severus could feel his magical pulses of energy penetrating deep within the unconscious boy’s body, flowing down the neural pathways and into the energy chakras that led to Harry’s magical core, slowly filling what had been emptied and  rejuvenating the damaged tissues.  But it was a slow careful process, too much and he could overload the boy’s core and risk a burnout, too little and the boy’s healing processes would draw too heavily and leave the magical core emptied and too weak to recharge itself.  What Severus was doing was akin to plugging in a car battery and recharging it overnight, only he would be doing so for hours. Once that was done, he could address the other physical problems the boy had.  It was obvious that Harry had been neglected, possibly starved, and physically abused as well. Severus had no doubt there were emotional scars as well. But first things first.

He continued to send magical pulses of energy into Harry, alternating them at five minute intervals. Gradually he increased the time to fifteen minutes, until he was sure Harry’s core was stable. 

When he was satisfied that Harry’s core was replenished, he then took stock of the boy’s other injuries. Neglect was obvious, the boy was filthy, his hair matted, and Severus wanted to scrub him from head to foot.  He also noticed how thin the boy was, Severus could feel his ribs and there was not an ounce of spare flesh on the boy.   When he ran a medical diagnostic on the boy, he saw that Harry was malnourished and had once suffered a broken arm and collarbone.  He also noticed some faint scarring on the backs of the boy’s legs and bottom, thin white lines.  Severus’ mouth tightened into a grim slash. He knew very well where those came from, as he bore similar ones .  He silently cursed Vernon Dursley and Gil Malfoy to hell.   And if that were not enough, they had locked him in some cupboard like an animal.  In a way, Snape was glad the Dursleys were dead, since it saved him the trouble of doing something terrible to them. 

He tucked his wand away and looked over at his father.  “He’ll live.  He’s undernourished, that’s why he’s so small and thin, he looks like he’s nine instead of ten.  They starved him, neglected him, and whipped him and Merlin knows what else.” Severus’ fastidious nose wrinkled.  “He’s in dire need of a bath, but I can take care of that when he wakes up.”

Tobias looked troubled. “It’s good you found him when you did, otherwise who knows what might have happened.  Will anyone be looking for him?”

“You mean his so-called guardians? Or the Ministry?” 

“Both.”

“The Dursleys are dead. They were killed by followers of You-Know-Who, they were looking for Harry, but his magic protected him, made him undetectable.   The Ministry should be looking for him, but I don’t know when they’ll discover what happened and that the Boy Who Lived is missing.  I’ll worry about them later. Right now my priority is this boy. Those bloody Dursleys!” Severus growled.

“They and all those like them ought to be shot,” Tobias agreed angrily.  He detested those who abused children, and a long time ago his dearest wish had been to take his son from Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy and then strangle the bastard.  But he had settled for saving his son in the end, reasoning that going to jail for assault wouldn’t help Severus.  “I’m not sorry they’re dead, if this is how they treated that poor kid.  Will those followers of that bloody dark wizard be hunting for him?”

“They may, but they’ll never find him here. Not with my wards up,” Severus assured him.

“Maybe I ought to get out my pistol anyhow,” Tobias mused. “Not even a dark wizard can survive a bullet unless they see it coming.”

“Dad, do you still have a carry permit?”

Tobias nodded. “Yup. Even though I was mustered out, I still have a legitimate right to carry a gun. Don’t worry, Sev, I’ll keep it out of reach of curious little fingers.”

Severus heaved a sigh, though he was not worried so much about Harry playing with the gun as he was Tobias shooting someone he thought was a dark wizard by mistake.  He made a mental note to tell his father any time he brought home a guest.  But that wasn’t too frequent, so maybe he shouldn’t worry. Tobias was levelheaded, and though his temper flared hot, it was never without cause.

“Just be careful where you aim it.”

“You just mind your manners, boy, and I won’t be tempted to shoot you in the arse,” Tobias drawled, his eyes sparkling with humor.

“You’re a riot, Dad,” Severus grunted, rolling his eyes at his sire.  Then he turned back to look at the boy on the couch.

To his surprise, Harry was awake, and looking at Tobias with an expression of shock and terror. 

Severus gently reached out a hand and to his dismay, Harry flinched and cringed. “Easy there. I won’t hurt you.”

Harry shivered. He didn’t know where he was, all he knew was that he was alone with two strange men, one of whom had threatened to shoot the other.  “Who are you? Where am I?”

Frightened green eyes peered up at Severus.  The Unspeakable knelt beside the couch.  “Don’t be frightened, Harry.  My name is Severus Snape and I was a friend of your mother’s.  That man over there is my father, Tobias.  You’re in my house, where you’re safe.”

Harry swallowed hard.  The tall man’s voice was low and soothing, but he was still scared.  He had never known anything but hurt from an adult man . . .except for teachers.  He wondered if this Snape man could be a teacher? “W-Why did he say he was gonna shoot you?” he managed to get out.

“I was only kidding, boy,” Tobias reassured, and gave the boy a smile. “It was just a dumb joke. I’d never hurt my son.” He rose and came over to the couch and held out one large hand. “Pleased to meet you, Harry.”

Harry shrank away, one hand lifted to cover his mouth. 

“Hey now,” Tobias kept his voice very soft. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Not here. All I want to do is shake your hand.”

“Oh. S-sorry, sir.” Harry blushed, but his reaction had been instinctive. He tentatively put his small hand into Tobias’ larger one.  “How do you do, sir?”

“Fine, Harry. And you don’t have to call me sir. Just plain Toby will do.” Tobias gently clasped the boy’s hand and then released him.

“Harry, what do you remember about what happened?” Severus asked softly.  “Why were you locked in that cupboard?”

Harry looked at the dark-haired man and his hands twisted together. “I-I’m not supposed to tell. I’ll get in awful trouble if I do. Uncle will . . .he’ll . . .” he didn’t finish the sentence, but looked down at his hands in shame.

“Listen to me, Harry. Your uncle can’t hurt you ever again. Do you know why? Because he’s dead.”

“Dead? Then the . . .bad men really did kill him? What about Aunt Petunia and Dudley?”

“They too are dead. I would offer you condolences, but I don’t think you’re all that sad that they’re gone.” Severus told him.

“No, not really. They never wanted me. I was always in the way, they told me I was a freak like my mum and dad.  That’s why they locked me in the cupboard. Because I got a letter.”

“A letter? From a school called Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know. Uncle Vernon wouldn’t let me see it. He burned the first one.  But then more came. They came out of the fireplace, even after uncle boarded up the mail slot.  They came through the window, dozens of them. They made Aunt Petunia scream and Dudley trip over his own feet. Uncle Vernon was so mad, he said it was all my fault we were being invaded by possessed mail, and then he smacked me and locked me in the cupboard. “  Harry hung his head, his long fringe of messy hair falling in his eyes.

“How long were you in the cupboard, Harry?”

“A week. I think.  I . . .I told Aunt Petunia I’d be good, but she wouldn’t let me out. Said it was cause of my freak nature that those letters kept coming, even on Sunday. I asked her if maybe if I could see one, maybe they might stop, but she screamed that’s how it all started and kept throwing them out and burning them.”

Severus snorted. “Stupid bint! You were right, Harry. If you had opened a letter, then they would have stopped coming.  The letters will only keep coming if they are unopened.”

“But why? Who would want to send me a letter?”

“Here. I have one in my pocket.” Severus dug out the letter he had intercepted and handed it to Harry.

Harry carefully unfolded it and opened it.  He read it through silently.  “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Is this some kind of silly prank? There’s no such thing as wizards and witches. Magic doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, it does.  You see, Harry, you’re a wizard. As am I.” Severus said quietly.

“Me?” Harry stared at him, his green eyes wide with terror. “No! I’m not a freak! Magic isn’t real.” He suddenly wrapped his arms about himself and rocked back and forth, whimpering.  “I promised I’d never do anything freaky again!”

Alarmed, Severus reached out a hand. “Harry, calm down.  It’s all right. You’re not a freak.” The Unspeakable’s voice hardened.  “Your aunt was wrong to tell you that. You’re a wizard, child, as were your parents before you, and using magic is as natural as breathing.”

“No! No!” Harry was shaking now.

Severus was at a loss.  “Dad? What do I do now?” he asked.

Tobias, who had some experience in dealing with hysterical children, sat on the edge of the couch and said, “Harry, don’t be scared. It’s okay, kid. I guess they hurt you pretty bad if you used your magic, huh?”

Harry sniffled.  “I don’t have magic. Uncle Vernon said magic is fake and I wasn’t to talk about it or else he’d whip me black and blue.”

“Bastard!” spat Snape. His black eyes glittered. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d bury him!”

“Easy, Severus. You’re scaring him,” Tobias reprimanded quietly. He indicated Harry, who was shaking soundlessly.

Severus felt ashamed. “I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you.”

“Relax, lad,” Tobias said.  “Don’t mind Sev. His bark’s worse than his bite. Know what I mean?”

Harry nodded and tried to quit shaking.  For one moment the tall man—Severus—had the same expression on his face that Vernon got whenever he was going to teach poor Harry a lesson.  But so far neither man had laid a hand on him in anger. Still, Harry knew that could change.  He looked at the blond man, Toby, and whispered, “Are you a wizard?”

“Me? Naw. I’m a regular bloke. No magic.  Sev got his power from his mum. I’m an architect. I build houses.”

Harry began to relax.  At least there was one normal person here.

Severus wanted to try again to convince the boy that magic was real, but he didn’t want Harry to panic again. Clearly the Dursleys had lied and conditioned him to reject his magical heritage.  That was something he wasn’t sure how to handle.  “Harry, do you know how your relatives died?”

“I . . . I think so. There was a knock at the door, I heard Aunt Petunia answer it.  I think there were four men, I could hear different voices. They . . .they kept asking where is he? Aunt Petunia ran to get Uncle Vernon and Dudley told them where I was, but . . .for some reason they couldn’t see me.  I . . .I could feel them . . . they felt wrong . . .all dark and cold and scary . . .I didn’t want them to find me . . .I tried to hide in the back of the cupboard . . .and then I could hear them, but they couldn’t find me, I don’t know why.  They kept screaming at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, asking them why they lied.  Dudley too.  Uncle Vernon told them to get out, I think he tried to shoot them, but . . .something happened. I heard Aunt Petunia screaming and crying and then . . .nothing. It was all quiet. I knew I had to be still, to pretend I wasn’t there. I lay down and tried to breathe like a mouse. They kept looking and swearing, but somehow they never found me.  They left, and I was so hungry and thirsty. I banged on the door, but no one came. Then I . . .think I passed out.”

“You did.  Do you know why the bad people couldn’t find you? Because your magic acted to protect you,” Severus told him. “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth.  You’re a very powerful young wizard.  That’s the reason you received a letter. Hogwarts is a school to help train young wizards in the right way to use your magic. Your aunt knew this, her sister Lily, your mother, was a witch.  She grew up with magic, even though she didn’t have any. But she always knew magic existed.  I was her neighbor, your mother’s best friend.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry muttered, though he wondered how his mother had ever been friends with a crazy man.  Unless his mum had been delusional too?

Severus sighed.  He could tell the boy didn’t believe him.  He was tempted to show Harry some magic that would prove to him that Severus was telling the truth. But he sensed the boy had already had too many shocks for one day.  “When did you last eat?”

Harry shrugged.  “Errr . . .a few days ago, I guess.”

“Hell, kid, you must be starving,” exclaimed Tobias. “Why don’t I go and make us something to eat. I’m hungry too. How about you, Sev?”

“I could eat something,” Severus said.  “Take your time though.  Harry, why don’t you come upstairs and take a bath? Or a shower, whichever you prefer?”

Harry looked down at himself. He knew he smelled and was dirty.  But he had no other clothes to wear.  “I . . .But I don’t have any other clothes, sir.”

“That’s not a problem.  You can borrow a shirt of mine, it’ll do until I can get you some new clothes.  The ones you’re wearing are good for the rubbish bin.” Severus said.  “Come on.”

Harry slowly slid off the couch and followed Snape up the stairs.

Severus led him into the bathroom, a rather large room painted hunter green and cream. There was a thick green bath mat on the floor before the tub, which had a matching shower curtain.  Cream tiles were on the floor and there was a sink and counter in the corner, next to the toilet.  A large mirror hung over the vanity. 

Severus marched over to the tub and ran the water.  “There’s soap and washcloths inside here, as well as shampoo and conditioner.  Take as long as you like.  I’ll be back with some clothes and towels.”

Then he left, shutting the door behind him.

Harry stared about at the bathroom, which was even bigger than the Dursleys.  He felt awed to be in such surroundings.  He reached out to test the water and found it very warm.  It was the first warm shower he could remember having in years. Usually by the time he could even get a shower, there was no hot water and he had to take one lickety-split, because the water was freezing and Aunt Petunia needed him to finish up chores around the house and the yard that Dudley was too lazy to do.

He peeked inside the shower and saw rows of shampoo and conditioner and a great big bar of striped soap. Real soap! He almost grinned.  But then he recalled that he wasn’t allowed to use real soap.  Petunia had hammered that into his head ever since he was five.  Surely Severus would be the same.  He wouldn’t want a dirty freak touching his soap.

Harry reluctantly drew away and knelt down and looked in the cabinet under the sink for some soap that they wouldn’t care if he used. Sure enough, he found a bar of yellow lye soap, right next to a plastic bucket.  That’s the proper soap for dirty little freaks like you! Petunia’s carping voice rang in his mind.  Harry’s hand closed about the bar of soap and he placed it on the counter.  The mirror was starting to get a little steamy. 

Harry quickly removed his shirt and was just starting to remove his trousers and underpants when Severus opened the door.  He jumped and nearly fell backwards, his feet tangling in his trousers.

“Relax. Here’s the towels and a shirt and shorts, they might be a little big, but better than nothing,” Severus came in and started to set two fluffy blue towels and one of his black T-shirts and boxers on the counter, he had shrunk them to an approximate size with a spell.

Harry had backed up in front of the toilet, and a red flush crept up his cheekbones.

Severus noted the bar of soap sitting atop the vanity and frowned. “What’s this doing out?”

“It’s my soap,” Harry said very quietly.

“This is floor cleaner. Surely you weren’t—” Severus scowled. “For the love of Merlin, you don’t mean to tell me that you were going to wash yourself with this?” His voice crackled with displeasure, though it was not meant for Harry, but for his cruel relatives.

Harry froze. Was he going to get smacked now? “Sorry, sir, sorry. I . . .I thought . . .I’m sorry, sir.”

“Stop apologizing,” Snape ordered, gentling his tone. “Come here.”

Harry shuffled forward, certain he was about to be punished for touching the soap.  Snape certainly looked angry.  Harry swallowed hard.  He should have known he couldn’t last an hour without getting into trouble. He never could do anything right. 

Severus watched, puzzled, as the boy approached him, and then leaned over the counter.  He did not look at Snape, just muttered, “Okay. I’m ready, sir.”

Severus’ brow creased.  “Ready?” Then he understood.  Bloody hell, he thinks I’m going to beat him. “Harry, no.  No. Stand up.”

“Sir? Aren’t you going to punish me?”

“For what?”

“For touching your things.”

“My things? All I wanted was to tell you that you don’t wash yourself with my floor cleaner. It’s for floors, not little boys.  Now stand up straight. I’m not going to hit you.  Merciful Merlin!”

Harry slowly straightened and gaped at Severus. “You’re not going to punish me? I can use the good soap?”

“Yes, you can use the good soap. That’s what it’s there for.  And the shampoo and conditioner. Use as much as you like.  And no, you’re not in trouble. Now quit dawdling and get in the shower.” Severus said, shaking his head. He waved a hand and Harry yelped, for his trousers and pants suddenly vanished and he was naked. 

He immediately went to cover himself.

Severus chuckled. “Boy, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

Harry flushed and scurried towards the tub, jumping into it with a splash and drawing the curtain.

“When you’re done, come downstairs.  Tobias ought to have supper ready by then.” Severus quietly shut the door, adding, “Mind you wash behind your ears,” because it was what Tobias had always said to him when he was that age.

Then he slipped back downstairs, his temper sizzling, muttering, “The Killing Curse was too good for those damn animals!”

Harry took his time scrubbing himself and washing his hair. He delighted in the warm water and the soft soap that smelled like pine and cedar, a good manly smell.  For once his skin didn’t sting and burn till he rinsed off the lather, and he could take as long as he liked.  It was almost like heaven. He made certain he was squeaky clean before coming out twenty minutes later.

Severus’ shirt and boxers were a little baggy, but Harry didn’t mind. He was used to that, wearing Dudley’s cast offs. At least this shirt wasn’t stained or holey, and it smelled clean.  They were soft against his skin.  Harry stroked the fabric and smiled. They were the best clothes he had ever had.

He made his way back downstairs, silent in his bare feet.  He found both men in the small kitchen, Severus was setting the table and Tobias was cooking some grilled cheese and soup.  Harry’s stomach growled loudly.

Severus turned. “Much better. How do you feel?”

“Hungry,” Harry admitted.

“Sit down,” Severus gestured to a chair.

Harry sat, though he found it strange, for normally he was not allowed to sit down with the family. 

“Here you go. Eat up.” Tobias set a small bowl of soup and a sandwich in front of Harry.

Harry inhaled the aroma of the chicken soup and then began to eat, hurriedly.

“Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick.” Severus ordered.

Harry stopped eating. 

“Severus, quit badgering the kid,” Tobias said.

“I’m not badgering him, just trying to make sure he doesn’t throw up.”

“If he does, it’s not  a big deal. Let the kid eat. Go on, Harry.”

Harry looked from one to the other. He didn’t want them to fight. Not over him.  He picked up the sandwich and bit into it. It was hot and delicious. He forced himself to chew and swallow.  Soon he had finished the entire thing and the bowl of soup. Tobias had set a glass of soda beside his plate and he drank it down.  He would have liked to eat some more, but he felt full and didn’t want to get sick.

“Looks like you liked my grilled cheese,” Tobias said.

“Yes, sir. It was excellent.”

“You can have seconds.”

“No thanks, sir. I’m full.”

“If you’re sure . . .and it’s Toby, Harry. Toby.”

Harry began to yawn. He felt awfully sleepy.

“Looks like you’re ready for bed.” Severus observed.  “You can have the guest room.”

“Then . . .I can stay here?”

“Of course. I didn’t rescue you just so I could turn you out on the street.  We’ll talk some more later, after you’ve slept.  All that healing I did on you is bound to tax your body’s reserves.” Severus beckoned him and once more Harry followed him up the stairs and into a room with a blue and green diamond patterned  comforter and curtains. The bed looked huge and luxurious to Harry, who had never slept in a double bed before.  He hesitated, still half believing this was some kind of dream. 

But at Snape’s urging he crawled up on it and lay down.  Severus tucked him in and said, “Pleasant dreams, Harry.”  Then he left, leaving the door slightly ajar and the lamp on.

Harry snuggled down under the comforter.  He was warm, clean, and full.  This was like paradise.  He soon drifted off to sleep, hoping he was not dreaming.  

Tobias looked up when Severus entered the kitchen.  “Well? How is he?”

“Asleep,” answered his son, pouring himself another cup of tea.  “He’s exhausted.  I cannot believe the harm they did to him.  They’ve made him afraid to believe in his own magic! He’s supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards in the world and he thinks magic isn’t real.  What am I supposed to do about that, Dad?”

Tobias was silent for a long while, thinking.  At last he said, “Well, Severus, that boy might be what you said, but you need to remember he’s also a kid. One that’s hurting real bad.  Like another boy I knew.  He needs time, Sev.  Time to get used to you, time to realize that you’re not going to smack him around or whatever, before you can convince him that he’s the wizard you say he is.  Just take it slow, okay?”

Severus nodded.  What his father said made sense.  Harry was a scared little boy, and couldn’t be expected to just accept the fact that magic existed when he’d been told his whole life otherwise, and probably had that belief hammered into him by fists and a belt.  “You’re right.  I ought to know better.  I was the same once.” He shook his head sadly.  Then he told Tobias about the way Harry had reacted in the bathroom.  “Even I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were bad enough,” his father said.  “But with patience and compassion, he’ll come through this.  He’s a strong kid, he never would have lasted this long if he wasn’t.”

“I think I ought to take him to a Healer tomorrow or the next day. He needs to be evaluated, I know he’s malnourished and needs potions, he may even need some vaccinations, most boys need a set before they start school.”

“That’s a good idea, Sev.  Care for a hand of cards? Five card draw poker?”

Severus smirked wolfishly.  “Think you can take me, old timer?”

“I can beat the pants off you, boy, without half trying.”

“We’ll see.” Severus  chuckled, and summoned the deck of cards, chips, and the container of Sickles and Knuts for the pot. 

They spent a pleasurable two hours bluffing and calling each other, having a grand old time fleecing each other.  The pot was passed back and forth amid good-natured insults and arguments over who had the best poker face.  In the end, Severus had won by ten Sickles.

“Now don’t get all high and mighty, boy, because next time I’m going to thrash you good,” Tobias threatened, laughing.

“That’ll be the day, Dad.” His son snorted, sweeping his winnings back into the battered old biscuit jar.  “It’s been a long time since we played a game like that.” Usually Severus was too busy with his research on potions and spells to have time for cards or much of anything except sleep when he got home. 

“It was fun, huh?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to teach the kid, so he can join us.”

“You’d teach a ten-year-old how to gamble?”

“Shoot,  Sev, just for pennies.  My old man taught me how to deal from an inside straight when I was barely ten.  It’s not like I’m taking him to the pub.”

Severus looked skeptical.  He loved his father, but sometimes Tobias’ morals were a little lax.  Still, maybe that would be a good way to introduce Harry to benevolent magic.  By showing him some wizard card games or chess.  “We’ll see.  I’m going to go to bed, I need to get up early tomorrow and do some brewing before I make that appointment with the Healer.  Hopefully Poppy Pomfrey has had a cancellation or two.”

Tobias yawned.  “G’night, Sev. I’d let the kid sleep in if I were you.  I’ll fix him some breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“All right.” Severus headed upstairs, pausing to check on Harry before turning in to his own room. 

HPSSHPTS

Harry woke up screaming.  The nightmare was always the same.  He was stuffed in the cupboard and the walls were closing in on him, making it hard to breathe.  Then they started falling and there was a flash of green light and a woman’s voice screaming, “Harry! Harry!” 

He sat bolt upright in bed and gasped for air, certain he was about to be crushed by the falling walls. It was a moment or two before he realized he wasn’t in any danger of the cupboard collapsing because he wasn’t in the cupboard.  Idiot! You’re such a damn crybaby! He sneered at himself. But  that didn’t stop him from shaking and then scrambling from the bed and huddling in a corner, inbetween the dresser and the window.  He pulled his knees up to his chest and hunkered down, wrapping his arms about his bony knees and putting his head on them. 

He didn’t know why he kept having that awful nightmare, but he did. He hoped and prayed that his scream wasn’t going to bring one of the adults to investigate.  They were sure to be spitting mad, getting woken up in the middle of the night by a big crybaby.  Uncle Vernon had always given him the back of his hand for doing that, or even walloped him with a slipper if he was particularly annoyed.  “There, now you have something to cry about, you little whelp!” Harry shivered just recalling it and his bottom stung with sympathetic remembrance.

Suddenly he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

Oh no! Now he was in for it.

He tensed and huddled into as small a ball as he could. Maybe if the tall man—Severus—couldn’t find him he would escape the man’s wrath.  He squinched his eyes shut.  I wish I could disappear. I wish I could disappear.

Severus opened the door.  “Harry?” he called softly, and peered in the room. The bed covers were rumpled, but the boy was not in bed.  Severus crossed into the room and looked about.  “Harry? Where are you? I thought I heard a scream.”

The obsidian-eyed Unspeakable glanced all around the room, trying to figure out where the boy had gone.  “Harry? Where did you go?” He walked around the other side of the bed and looked right into the corner where Harry was hiding.  “Ah. There you are.  What on earth are you doing back there?”

Cautiously, Harry raised his head.  Severus did not seem particularly put out, nor was he scowling and threatening retribution.  Still, there was no telling when he might lose it.  He eyed the other’s large long-fingered hands.  Snape was thin, but wiry and Harry was sure his hand would hurt just as much as Vernon’s ever had.  “S-Sorry. I’m sorry I woke you, sir,” he began, hating the way his voice quivered like a coward’s.  “It won’t happen again.”

Severus blinked.  “No need to apologize.  Did you have a nightmare?”

Harry expected Snape to drag him out of the corner any minute and was surprised when Severus instead sat down on the floor a few feet away. 

“You know, I used to have nightmares too when I was your age.  They were very scary and I would wake up in a cold sweat, howling, because they were so real.  It was only later that I learned my dreams weren’t just dreams—they were visions.  Visions of what might be. You see, Harry, I’m a Seer, born with the gift, and that was how I knew you were in trouble. You haunted my sleep.”

“I did? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. The visions come as they will, and they saved your life.  Would you care to come out and tell me about your dream?”

Harry shook his head.  “Are you cross?”

“Cross?”

“Because I woke you. Uncle Vernon used to get awful cross when I did that and then he would scream at me and sometimes he’d wallop me too.”

“Harry, I’m going to ask you to do a difficult thing for me. I’m going to ask you to forget about your uncle and whatever he said or did.  He’s dead and gone and you’re here with me.  I give you my solemn oath, on my magic, that I will never treat you the way he did.”

“You’re not going to beat me?”

“No.  Beating a child will not cure nightmares and will only make them worse.  I know that better than anyone.” Severus said simply.  “Nightmares are your mind’s way of trying to deal with things you are frightened of.  They are reminding you that you have to face your fears in order to be rid of them. That’s why I asked you if you would like to talk about them.  Sometimes talking about it helps.”

But Harry shook his head.  “No. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Severus raised an eyebrow.  “You are not the only one to suffer from night terrors.” He studied the boy for a moment, then recalled something his father had always done after he had a nightmare.  “Since you are unable to sleep, perhaps you would like to hear a story?”

“What? You think I’m a baby?” Harry asked indignantly, then he cursed himself for his insolence.  He waited for Snape’s roar of anger, for hard hands to seize him and teach him to be smart to his elders. He immediately opened his mouth to apologize.

But Severus just looked at him.  “Hardly.  I merely thought you might like to hear a story about a boy similar to yourself whose best friend was a little red-headed girl named Lily.”

“Is it a true story? Or a made-up one?”

“It’s true. They were real people,” Severus assured him.  “Would you care to hear about them?”

Harry shrugged, then shifted slightly. He was rather cold, sitting beneath the window, and his bum was starting to get numb but he wasn’t quite ready to come out yet.  He still didn’t trust the tall man to keep his word. 

“You can sit on your bed if you wish,” invited Snape.

But Harry shook his head. “I’m fine here, sir.”

“Very well.  Their story begins in a town in Manchester, where there was a park down the street from their houses that all the children went to play at.  The boy usually preferred to go there when most of the children had gone home, since they mocked him for his shabby clothes and ragged hair.  He was poor, but he had a secret. A secret he would never tell anyone . . .until the day he met the red-haired girl.  He met her and her sister one day at the park, they were on the swings and Lily jumped off when the swing was high in the air.

“Her big sister scolded her, and the boy thought she was braver than any girl he knew for daring to risk a broken leg or wrist that way.

“Until she flew through the air and landed lightly on the ground.

“Her sister was beside herself, worried that someone had seen.

“Someone had, but he would never tell anyone.  Because his secret was the same as the girl’s.  They had inherited a gift.  The gift of magic. 

“But when he told the sisters that, they laughed at him and said there was no such thing.

“Then explain how Lily flew through the air if she doesn’t have magic?” the boy asked.

“She’s just freaky,” said Tuney.  “She’s always doing weird things like that and freaking out my mum and dad.”

“She’s not a freak!” cried the boy. He hated that name, he had been called it too.  “She’s going to be  a powerful sorceress someday.”

“Tuney laughed. “Oh, right! You’re as nutty as she is!”

“But  Lily wasn’t laughing.  “How do you know that?”

“Because you’re not the only one who can fly,” he answered, and then he showed her how he could change a rock into  rainbow colors and explained that he was a wizard.

“A real wizard! Wow!” she cried, and that was the beginning of their friendship.

“He brought her books of magic and told her about the magical world that existed side by side with her own, that only wizards could see.  He showed her how to brew elementary potions and spoke of the magical school they would one day attend called Hogwarts.”

Harry scowled. “Hey! I thought you said this was a real story!”

“And so it is.  Hogwarts is real.  The girl and boy are real. Most important of all, magic is real.  You were born with it and so was I.  So were your parents, which is why your aunt refused to speak to them.  The little girl in the story was your mother, Lily. Her sister was your Aunt Petunia.”

“And the boy?”

“Can you not guess?”

“Was he my dad?”

“No.  Your father was wealthy.”

Harry thought for a moment.  Then it hit him.  “It was you, right? You were the boy.”

“Yes. I met your mother when we were both ten years old.  She became my best friend.”

“You really knew her? You’re not just saying that?”

“On my honor, I really knew Lily.” Snape said solemnly.

“Did you know my dad too?”

“Yes. We attended Hogwarts in the same year.” Severus said grimly, masking his distaste. 

“Did they really die in a car crash like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia said? Because my father was driving drunk?” Harry asked, the questions flowing from him like water from a spigot. For so long he had gone without answers, that he couldn’t help himself.  Finally he might get a sense of who his parents were. 

“A car crash? Lily and James Potter?” Severus repeated in astonishment.  “That is a baldfaced lie!  They did not die in an auto accident.”

“That’s what aunt always told me.  She said that’s how I got this scar. From glass shattering.” He indicated the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

“More lies.  Harry, I will tell you the truth about your parents and that scar, but not right now.  It is not something I wish to discuss with you in the middle of the night.  It’s a dark tale and better spoken of in the light of day.  Tomorrow  I shall tell you all.  For now, however, know that your aunt and uncle lied to you and hid the truth to serve their own ends.”

“Why? Did my mum and dad’s deaths have anything to do with magic?” Harry guessed, intuitively knowing it was so.

Snape nodded, pleased with Harry’s astuteness. “It did. We will speak more of it tomorrow.  But it grows late and you need your sleep.”

“Will you tell me more about my mum? Please?”

Severus considered , seeing the hungry look come over the boy’s face.  “I shall, if you will come and get into bed. You’ll catch a chill sitting there beneath the window.”

Harry hesitated.  He looked from the bed to Snape, estimating the distance it would take for him to get in bed without Snape grabbing him.  He thought he could make it.  “Okay,” he agreed.

“Get in bed then.”

Harry ran then, as quick as he could, and jumped on top of the bed.  He landed with a slight thump and rolled over, crawling under the covers before Snape could blink.  “M’in bed,” he said, his voice muffled through the covers.  “Will you tell me now?”

Severus suppressed a laugh.  He rose and took a seat in the desk chair.  “What do you wish to know?”

“Was she pretty, my mum?”

Severus nodded. “I thought she was the most beautiful girl ever.  But she had something even better than beauty.  She was kind and generous, she always defended me to any boy who teased me, or even her own sister.  People naturally enjoyed being with her, she had many friends in school, but she never forgot me, her first best friend.  We used to study together for tests and do homework together.”

“Did she have a favorite subject?”

“Charms. She was wickedly good at them. But potions was her second love and she excelled at them.  She and I were the best potion makers in our year,” Severus said with a faraway look in his eyes.  “She had huge green eyes that saw everything.  Your eyes are like hers.”  Except hers were never filled with fear. 

Harry seemed pleased with that.  “I can’t remember her.”  Except for her screaming, but I don’t want to remember that.  “But I’m glad I have her eyes.” He began to yawn. 

“She had a lovely voice, very soft and melodic, unless she was tearing someone into strips for being a nasty lout.  She had quite a temper, your mother.  Especially in defense of the helpless.”

Harry shut his eyes. He could almost hear her voice in his mind, soft and low, singing a lullaby.

“Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top . . .”

He drifted, seeking an elusive memory of a song sung in a sweet contralto, and recalling the gentle touch of a milk-white hand.  But that was all he could recall.  Still, it was enough to send him into a peaceful slumber.

Severus allowed himself a tiny smile of triumph.  He had not thought it would work, he had thought Harry was too distressed to relax with a mere story, but it looked like Tobias’ method worked like a charm.  If it hadn’t, Severus had been prepared to use a spoonful of Dreamless Sleep, but he was just as glad not to have to resort to potions.  It was always best to fall asleep naturally.

He gently smoothed out the covers before departing the room.  He turned and glanced over his shoulder at the slumbering boy and muttered, “If only you had done what you promised long ago, Lily, and named me his godfather.  Then those rotten Dursleys would have never been able to claim him.” He sighed. There was no sense in wishing for what might have been.  He had Harry now, and had to hope that he would be able to fix what the bloody Muggles had broken.

Early the next morning, Harry awoke, rubbed his eyes, and started to get up. He had to make breakfast before Vernon went to work and Petunia had her Ladies of the Month meeting.  He sat up and only then remembered he wasn’t at Privet Drive any longer and would never have to make breakfast for the Dursleys ever again. He hopped out of bed with a feeling of glee, until he remembered that Toby and Severus might make him cook for them instead.

Until he heard Tobias’ deep voice call, “Harry, rise and shine, kid.  I have some pancakes and bacon cooking for you.”

Harry sniffed the air.  Now he could smell the delicious aroma of bacon frying and maple syrup. Yum! He glanced at the light-up clock on his dresser and found it was half-past nine.  Half-past nine! He had never slept so late in his life.  He was usually up at seven, preparing breakfast for the Dursleys.  The fact that he was now having breakfast prepared for him, and more, a breakfast that he could actually sit down and eat, was quite a wonderful thing. 

He quickly came down the stairs and entered the kitchen.  “Good morning, Harry.” Tobias greeted, turning about with the spatula still in his hand from flipping the pancake he had on the griddle.  “Sleep well?”

“Uh . . .kind of. I had a nightmare and woke up Severus.” He looked down at his feet, ashamed.

Tobias turned off the stove and came over to where Harry was standing , halfway between the entry and the table.  “Harry, there’s no need to be ashamed about nightmares. We all get them.”

“Not like me.  I’m nothing but a snot-nosed coward.”

“Coward? You? Now you listen here, boy.  Those relatives of yours treated you like trash, but you managed to survive it.  That takes more guts than anything in my book.  What did Sev do after you woke him?”

“He talked to me and told me a story about my mum when they were small.”

“Lily and he were very close as children.  It's a pity he never met her until after the divorce,” Tobias grimaced.

Harry’s eyes slid up and looked at Tobias’ blue ones.  “Divorce?”

“Ah, that’s a long story.  If I tell you now, your breakfast will get cold and I don’t know a Warming Charm to heat it up, or have a microwave either.” Tobias said.  He filled a glass of milk and gave it to Harry, along with a small green vial.  “This here is a Nutrient potion that Sev wants you to take with food.  It’s like vitamins for wizards.”

Harry examined the vial with interest, then uncorked it. It smelled like vegetables.  “Do I just drink it?”

“Yup.  Down the hatch, Mr. Potter.”

Harry hesitated, but then figured it couldn’t hurt, and gulped down the potion.  It tasted sort of like salty green beans and tomatoes.  Then he dug into the stack of pancakes and bacon Tobias had fixed for him.  He was hungry, but found he could only eat a small portion of the delicious food.  He stared at the rest of the plate in dismay. He really wanted to eat all of it, but . . .he felt stuffed. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I . . .I can’t finish this.”

“That’s okay.  Sev said your stomach might only be able to handle small portions at first.  You can wait a bit and see if you can eat some more later.”

Harry nodded, relieved that Tobias wasn’t going to scold him for wasting food. “What did you mean before, about a divorce?”

Tobias cleared his throat.  “When Sev was around four, his mum and I divorced. We hadn’t really gotten along well in years.  Some of that was because of me, I drank too much, and some was her, she got tired of my drinking and rowdiness and found another wizard.  So we divorced and Severus went to live with his mum and stepfather.” Tobias’ mouth twisted grimly.

“How come he didn’t stay with you?”

“He wanted to, but the courts said he had to stay with Eileen.  Nothing I could do about it.  Her new husband, Gil Malfoy, was a rich bugger.  And a nasty bastard.  Don’t know what Eileen ever saw in him, except maybe a pretty face and a vault full of Galleons.”

There was a dark look in Tobias’ eyes then and Harry shivered in spite of himself.

“What happened? Something bad?”

“Yes.  Gil Malfoy hated Severus, thought he was nothing but trash ‘cause he was a half-blood.  That’s a wizard who only has one magical parent, and one human parent.  Muggles they call us.  And to a high mucky-muck silver-spoon bloke like Gilbert, Severus was a second-class citizen, the only thing lower than a half-blood would have been a Muggleborn—a wizard who comes from non-magic parents.  Like your mum.  Now Eileen, she came from an old pureblood family, the Princes, so he accepted her, but not Severus.  He treated my son the same way those stinking relatives of yours treated you.”

Harry’s eyes were wide.  “Y’mean, Severus got locked in a cupboard too?”

“No, but Gil was always sharp and mean tempered and he liked to smack Sev around.  Severus hated him too.  They were always fighting, Sev tried to run away back to me a few times, but Malfoy always knew where he was and brought him back.  But after Eileen died from complications during childbirth, Gil wanted nothing more to do with Severus and sent him back to me when he was ten. But he wasn’t the same boy who had gone away.  He’d changed.  It took me a long time to gain his trust again and being friends with your mum Lily helped a lot. I always thought they might marry, but you can’t choose who you love.”

While Tobias talked, Harry slowly nibbled on the rest of his pancakes and bacon, finishing over half the plate.  Then he rose and went to rinse off his plate, saying, “Thank you, sir. It was delicious.  How come Severus didn’t eat breakfast with us?”

“He would have, but he had a few potions to brew early.  He’ll be back later on to take you over Madam Pomfrey, she’s like a wizard doctor, calls herself a mediwitch. “

“Why do I need to go to the doctor?”

“Severus wants to make sure you’re healthy and not hurt from  anything.” Tobias explained.

“I feel fine.” Harry argued. He didn’t like doctors, ever since he was three and developed a phobia of needles.

“Then your visit shouldn’t last more than five minutes.” Tobias said amicably.

Harry finished off his milk while Tobias washed the dishes.  He hoped Severus took his time brewing the potions.

Unfortunately, Severus was back earlier than expected, and ignored Harry’s protests about seeing a Healer.  Harry found that the exam the blond slightly plump mediwitch gave him didn’t hurt, merely tickled a bit when she ran her wand over him.    She frowned and a quill wrote something down upon a pad of parchment.  Harry kept looking at the writing implement and back, thinking that maybe it wasn’t some kind of trick done with wires, and really was magic, when Pomfrey brought out a tray with three sharp hypodermics on it.

“Since it seems you’ve never been properly vaccinated, Mr. Potter, against either wizard or Muggle diseases, I’m going to need to start a round of injections.  Three today, and the next visit in a week we’ll do three more, until you’ve had all your shots.” Poppy declared briskly.  “Hmm . . .” she expertly pinched a fold of skin on his upper arm.  “Ahh . . .too thin.  Well then, it’ll have to be in the thigh and buttocks. Lean over, child. This will only take a minute.”

Harry went rigid. Then he shook his head frantically. “No!” he shrilled, panicking.  He felt a hot burning sensation behind his eyes and a tray of vials shot across the room and crashed into the wall. 

Poppy gasped.  “Mr. Potter, what on earth?”

Harry was off the table in a flash and looking desperately for a place to hide, but the exam room had nowhere to run.  “No shots!” he panted, eyes darting wildly like an animal’s in a trap.

“Severus Snape, why didn’t you tell me he had a needle phobia?” asked Poppy irritably.

“I didn’t know,” answered the other, who had been watching from a corner while the exam was performed.  “Leave us for a moment, Poppy. Let me see if I can calm him.”

Poppy departed and Severus turned to look at Harry.

“I’m sorry, sir.  I’m sorry.” Harry stammered, sure that he was about to get beaten now for doing freaky things. 

“Harry, calm down.” Severus ordered, growing a bit impatient.  “Why are you so afraid of a few pinpricks?”

Still shaking, Harry forced himself to take deep breaths, Finally he spoke, telling Severus about the time when he was three and Petunia had brought him and Dudley to a clinic and the intern who had attempted to give Harry a vaccination had botched it and hurt him so badly that he had caused Harry to send him flying across the room.  Petunia had been quick to snatch him up and leave, and after getting a smacking and thrown in the cupboard, had vowed to never bring Harry back to any doctor, he was nothing but a freaky embarrassment. 

“But when you started school, how did you attend without any medical records?” Severus asked.

“Uncle Vernon played golf on Sundays with Dr. Morris and he just filled out some forms and nobody ever asked anything.” Harry said. 

“Forgeries and deceit,” muttered Snape.  “It just gets worse and worse.”

“I’m sorry I made the tray crash, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.  It probably will, since what you just did is called accidental magic and happens to all wizards until they learn to fully control their powers.”

“Oh.  Do I have to get the shots?”

“Yes. It was wrong, criminal even, for Petunia to allow you to skip them.  I don’t think I need to tell you why the vaccines are necessary, do I?”

Harry shook his head. 

Severus rose and sat down upon the exam table.  “As Madam Pomfrey said, it will take barely three minutes for the vaccinations to be administered, provided you stay calm and don’t fight her.  Now, I can give you a Calming Draught and you may hold onto me while she gives you them, or you can be placed under a Body Bind, which will freeze you, and receive them that way, but either way you aren’t leaving this office without them. The choice is yours.  Decide.”

 Harry wanted to shout that he chose neither, but he took one glance at the steely look in Snape’s eyes and knew that was not going to get him anywhere.  He gulped and whispered, “I’ll take the first one, sir.”

“Good.  I thought you might. “ Severus walked over to a cabinet and opened it, finding  a certain potion. “Drink this. It will take effect immediately.” He reseated himself on the table.

Harry felt a sort of soothing lassitude spread through him after he had swallowed the potion.  He felt as if he were floating calmly among clouds.  He could still feel the fear scrabbling at the edges of his mind, but he could bear it now.  He allowed Snape to take him on his lap, and gripped the other’s thigh when Severus lifted the hospital gown, exposing his bottom.

“Poppy,” the Unspeakable called.  “We’re ready.”

She returned, saying calmly, “Relax now, child.  This will only sting for a bit.”

Harry stiffened and flushed, his fingers dug into Severus’ thigh hard. Snape winced and muttered, “Calm down.” He awkwardly patted the boy’s back. 

Poppy was quick. 

Harry felt two sharp stings in him bum and one in his thigh.  He whimpered but Severus’ hand held him firmly until Poppy announced it was over and told him he could get dressed.

“See? That wasn’t so bad now, was it? You’ll be a bit sore, at least for tonight.  If he starts running a temperature, Severus, dose him with some Fever Reducer, though his body shouldn’t react to these vaccinations too badly.  Keep giving him the Nutrient potion and make sure you eat lots of vegetables and chicken, young man.  You need to put some weight on.  Severus, I need to speak to you in my office.”

They left Harry to get dressed while Poppy spoke to Severus about the damage the boy had endured.  She was furious when he told her that he had found the boy locked in a cupboard.  “If they weren’t already dead, the beasts, I’d hex them right down to hell.  That poor boy! Severus, what’s to become of him now?”

“I don’t know.  For now, he’s living with me.”

“But Severus, he’s an orphan now and that makes him a Ministry ward.”

“I know.  But  they don’t know that yet.  God knows where he would be placed.  You’ve seen him, Poppy.  He’s like a wounded animal.  If I can, I will petition for guardianship.  But until I do, I’m invoking patient confidentiality.”

Poppy scowled.  “You needn’t remind me of that, Severus! I would never betray you.  I just hope Rookwood and Fudge don’t roast you over a fire once they discover how you’ve duped them.  Fudge had grand plans for that boy, and I’m sure they didn’t include him being raised by an Unspeakable in a Muggle home.”

Severus made a dismissive noise.  She was right, but he’d worry about that later.   “If Lily had changed her will, I would have been named godfather beside Sirius Black.  She told me she would.”

“Maybe there wasn’t time,” Poppy said sadly.  “Good luck, Severus. I’ll see you Thursday next.”

HPSSHPTS

When they arrived home, Severus suggested Harry go and lie down.  Harry obeyed, but couldn’t rest.  His bottom was sore and scratchy and he was sick with fear that he would be punished for his cowardice at the Healer’s.  But he waited and waited and Snape did not come upstairs to scold him and smack him.  He wished the other man would quit tormenting him and just get it over with.  He finally fell asleep, still waiting.

But nothing more was mentioned about the incident at the Healer’s office.  Harry ate lunch and dinner and Tobias showed him how to play a few hands of five card draw poker before turning in that night.  Harry was beginning to like it here very much, and Severus had promised to take him shopping on Saturday.  “You need a whole new wardrobe,” he said, though he had used magic to shrink some of his clothes down to fit Harry for now.

Harry found that he was beginning to respect the tall wizard, though sometimes Snape still frightened him if he moved too quickly or spoke too harshly.  He tentatively requested another story about Lily, and Snape obliged by telling Harry about the first time they brewed a potion together in the Snapes’ basement. 

“Would you like to try and brew one?” offered Severus, hoping to spark some interest in magic from the boy.

“Not yet.  Maybe some other time.  Will you tell me how they died?”

Severus gazed at the child warily.  “This is not an easy subject for me to discuss.  However, you deserve to know the truth.  Your parents did not die in some car crash.  They were killed by a powerful dark wizard, one of the most powerful ever to walk the earth.  His name was . . .Lord Voldemort,” hissed the dark-robed wizard.  He went on to detail how the Potters had died, including their betrayal by their best friend, and how Lily had protected Harry with her own life and magic.  “She used an ancient spell that no one today would recognize save those in my order, the order of Unspeakables.  It is my belief that is why the Killing Curse rebounded and you survived.  That is why you are famous, for you are the only one to have ever survived that dreadful curse.” He told Harry about the monument in Godric’s Hollow and said he might visit it one day if he liked.

“I would like that.”  He shifted on his bed, rolling onto his side.  “How about my dad? You never mention him.”

“Your father and I were not friends at school.  However, he did excel at flying.”

“Flying?”

“On a broomstick,” Severus clarified.

Harry sniggered.  “But only witches do that!”

“Wizards also,” Severus said. 

“Can you fly?”

“Yes, though I prefer other methods of transportation.  Tomorrow after work, I shall show you how to fly.”

This time Harry smiled.  He had always dreamed about flying, when he was stuck in the cupboard.  It would be wicked if he could do so for real. 

He fell asleep dreaming about soaring high in the air, only to wake up screaming in terror as the nightmare invaded his dreams once more. 

This time it was Tobias and not Severus who came to comfort him.  The architect came and stroked his hair and managed to coax him out of the corner and then told him ridiculous (but true) stories about Severus’ accidental magic when he was a boy.  “Once he made an entire stack of cups and plates dance a jig across the table.  Another time he made that awful aunt of yours shoes run away with her down the street.” Tobias’ eyes twinkled wickedly. “’Course I had to punish him for that, but I thought it served the little snip right.  She was always looking down her nose at Sev.”

“Did you . . . did you wallop him?” Harry queried diffidently.

“Who, Sev? No. I don’t really believe in whipping kids.  Had too much of that from my dad, growing up. I gave him a good scolding though, sent him to bed without dessert and made him apologize to her.”

“Then you weren’t afraid of magic? Or thought it was wicked to . . . to use it?”

Tobias sat down on the edge of the bed.  “Harry, if I was afraid of magic or thought it was wicked, I’d never have married Eileen.  The first time she told me she was a witch, I laughed. Thought she was putting me on.  But then she showed me some real magic, changed herself into a wolf, and I felt as if I was seeing something wonderful, something  so incredible that I couldn’t even think of a word to describe it.  And this brilliant enchantress was my girlfriend, and she had chosen regular old me, Tobias Dylan Snape, to share her life with. I was  so starstruck I was lucky I could still see straight.  And when Sev was born, I felt like I’d been given another miracle. When he showed his first signs of magic I was so proud.  I wanted the best for him, you see,  and to me, having the magic made him special.  Like it makes you special, Harry.  Eileen used to say that she was taught that those with magic’s gift were truly blessed, and bound to use the gift to help those in need.  Even when we were apart, I never forgot the magic and how it changed my life.” Tobias rested a hand atop Harry’s head for a brief instant.  “You should never be ashamed of what you are, kid.  You were born with the gift for a reason.  Don’t waste it. And for the love of Pete, don’t listen to what your bloody aunt and uncle told you. They’re nothing but piss and wind, what did they know? They sound like fat prigs to me that wouldn’t know an original thought if it bit them on the arse.”

Harry giggled.  “Uncle Vernon and Dudley were fat as hogs. But Aunt Petunia was thin as a pencil.”

Tobias snorted.  “Figures.  All right, kid. Close your eyes and try and sleep.” He began to sing softly, in a language Harry couldn’t understand, but it soothed him nonetheless.

“Sir? What kind of language is that?” he asked sleepily.

“That’s Welsh, my old gram used to sing that to me and my sister whenever we had bad dreams. Now hush.”  He began to sing again, his voice deep and melodic.

Harry snuggled into the pillow, thinking how lucky Severus had been to have one parent who loved him and wishing he had been left with someone like Tobias instead of the coldhearted Dursleys.

SSHPSSTS

Severus was as good as his word.  The next evening, after he had come home from work, he took out his broom and a smaller version that he had saved from when he was a child, and had flown all over Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy’s estate trying to escape the horrible trapped feeling he always got when his stepfather was home.  He took Harry to the desolate moors of north Yorkshire, where no Muggle would see them, and showed Harry how to mount a broom and make it hover.

Harry watched in awe as Severus mounted the broom and kicked off, soaring up into the sky and circling lazily, like a great bird of prey.  When Snape finally landed, Harry was so excited he was practically vibrating. 

“You really can fly! Brilliant! Teach me how?”

“First, hold your hand over your broom and say Up in a forceful tone.”

Harry obeyed, saying, “Up!”

To his delight, the broom shot into his hand.  Then it hovered next to him.

“Now, mount the broom.”

Harry threw his leg over it and sat down cautiously, afraid he would fall off.  Strangely, the broom felt similar to a bicycle, it did not feel like a hard piece of wood the way he had feared. “Hey! How come it feels comfortable to sit on? I thought it would be like sitting on a fence rail, sort of hard and wobbly.”

“That’s due to the Cushioning charms. Without them, you would end up with a sore bottom and splinters too.” Severus told him matter-of-factly.

“Ouch!” Harry muttered.  “Now what?”

Snape mounted his broom.  “Now you kick off hard against the ground.  And mind you sit up straight.” He demonstrated.

Harry copied him. As his feet lifted off the ground and he shot into the air, he felt his stomach lurch and then he was flying.  Granted he was only about ten feet off the ground, but he was flying.  He looked about and saw the small scrubby trees and felt the wind ruffle his hair and snatch at his shirt.  He felt giddy with joy.  “Wow! Can I go higher?”

“Follow me.” Severus called and soared higher.

Harry wore a grin the size of London as he followed his teacher into the cobalt vault of the sky. 

Severus showed him how to circle and do short controlled dives, leveling out before touching the ground.  He noted that Harry was a natural on a broom, just like James Potter. Once he grew used to it, there was no fear and no hesitation.  Severus felt a pang of jealousy that Harry not only resembled his former rival but seemed to have inherited his father’s skills as well.  Damn it all, why couldn’t he be more like Lily? He grumbled to himself.  His memories of James Potter, broom jockey and Quidditch Captain, were not pleasant. 

Dwelling on his time at school, when he had been the butt of every Marauder prank going, or so it seemed, made him gruff and short tempered.  So when Harry asked him if he could fly some fifteen feet across the moor, he said curtly, “That’s enough flying for one afternoon.  I have research to do.”

Harry groaned. “Aww, but, Severus . . .!”

“Stop whining!” he ordered sharply.

Harry flinched and then landed the broom, inexpertly, for he stumbled and nearly did a header into the brown grass.  But he quickly righted himself, blushing at his clumsiness.  What had he said?

Severus landed a moment later, scowling, though he was more irritated at himself than Harry.  “Come, let’s go home.”  He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder so he could Apparate them both back to Manchester. 

Harry looked up at him warily.  “Sorry.”

“Never mind.” Then he concentrated and they were back, blinking in behind the trash bins behind the house, which had a Concealment charm placed over the area, so no Muggle would see magic being performed. 

Severus hurried inside, he needed the sanctuary of his workroom, research would keep the memories at bay. 

Harry put his broom away, trying to figure out what he had done to make Snape angry.  But it eluded him.  He headed upstairs to take a shower before supper, Tobias was still at work.  As the water began to steam, he could not suppress a grin.  Flying was the most awesome thing ever, and for the first time ever he was glad that he had magic. 

On Friday Harry woke up early and was restless and bored.  He had been at the Snapes’ house almost a week and so far had felt more like a guest than a family member.  Perhaps it was because the two men hadn’t started ordering him about yet, or giving him any sort of chores to do about the house.  Harry was unused to leisure time, unless he was locked in the cupboard, he was scrubbing, cleaning or cooking from dusk till dawn.  Severus had given him some introductory magical texts as well as history of the magical world, which he had started to read last night, but had nodded off over. 

Now he was awake and itching to do something.  He wished he dared fly the broom Severus had loaned him.  But he knew better than to do such a foolhardy stunt in a Muggle neighborhood.  Severus had told him about the Statute of Secrecy, and even if he hadn’t, it didn’t take a genius to guess that showing off with magic was forbidden.  Harry slipped out of bed. For once, he was the first one awake, and that allowed him to do something to pay back the Snapes, who had taken him into their home. 

He crept down the stairs and opened up the hall closet, where the cleaning implements were stored.

Tobias rose and came downstairs for his morning cup of coffee only to find Harry on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor with some lemon cleaner and a stiff brush.  For a moment, the elder Snape just stood there, watching as the small boy expertly scrubbed, rinsed, and then dried the floor.  Finally he found his voice.  “Harry, what are you doing?”

Harry looked up, half in alarm.  “Morning, sir.”

“Toby, Harry. Remember?” Tobias reminded gently.

“Err . . .yes, sir. I mean, Toby.  I’m just washing the floor.”

“I can see that, but why are you washing the floor?”

Harry shrugged.  “I always cleaned the house at Privet Drive. I’ve dusted and swept and scrubbed the bathroom so far.”

“How long have you been up?”

“I dunno. I think I woke up around six o’clock.”  Harry answered. It was now eight.

Tobias’ eyesbrows rose.  “You did all that in two hours? Godalmighty, kid! Harry, you can stop cleaning now.  There’s no need for you to do so, Sev usually uses magic to keep the house clean.”

“He does? I didn’t know you could use magic to clean things,” Harry exclaimed.

“Magic is used for many things,” Severus intoned, slipping up beside his father.  “Come up from there, boy.  I didn’t rescue you from your uppity relatives only to turn you into a house elf.”

Harry stopped cleaning.  He looked up at Snape, who seemed oddly annoyed.  “I just wanted to help . . .”

Severus sighed.  “That’s very . . . considerate of you but as my father pointed out, I usually clean with magic.  If you like, I can show you a Cleaning Charm.”

“What’s wrong with soap and water?”

“Nothing, but the spells save time.  Once you get your wand at Diagon Alley, I can show you several elementary spells, like the Cleaning Charm.” Severus said.

“A wand? I’m going to get a wand?”

“Of course. Every wizard needs a wand and you acquire yours at Ollivander’s along with your school items.” Severus told him.

“When can I get one?”

“Today, if you would like.  I did promise you some new clothing and it will be less crowded now at Diagon Alley that it would be closer to September.”

Harry jumped up, so excited he nearly upset the water bucket.

“But first you need to eat breakfast and take your potion.”

Harry groaned, but agreed.  Before he could move to empty out the bucket, Severus gestured and the bucket, brush, and rag vanished.  Harry’s eyes sparkled with glee.  “Can you teach me that spell too?”

“When you’re older. Vanishing Spells can be tricky,” Severus told him.  “If you feel like you must clean something, perhaps we can schedule some chores for you on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Would that be agreeable to you?”

Harry nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

Because Harry was eager to go to Diagon Alley, they had cereal and toast, coffee and orange juice that morning.  Then Severus used the Floo network to transport them to Diagon Alley, making sure Harry enunciated his destination clearly before stepping into the green flames.

Harry found himself spat out of the fireplace and he landed hard on his knees, coughing slightly.  When he looked up from his contemplation of the floor he discovered he was in a smoky pub.  The patrons barely glanced up, clearly they were used to strange comings and goings from the fireplace.  Severus came through and helped Harry up, brushing him off.   “Floo travel can be quite disorientating the first time you do it. But you’ll soon get used to it.”

Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes with the handkerchief Snape handed him.  His throat felt dry and scratchy and he sneezed several times.  “I think I’m . . . cough, cough . . . allergic to soot.”

“Perhaps a drink will help,” Severus mused, half to himself.  He led Harry over to the bar and spoke with Tom the barkeep.  “Tom, I’ll have a lemon spritzer and my young companion here will have a pumpkin juice.”

“Right away, Mr. Snape,” Tom said with just a touch of deference, and hurried off to get their drinks.

Harry rubbed a hand across his forehead, it was stuffy inside the pub and he had started to sweat.  He was also very thirsty.  But he couldn’t resist looking about at the people sitting around the tables.  He saw wizards of all shapes and sizes, some wearing long robes that reminded Harry of monks, others wore elaborate robes and cloaks that looked as if they’d borrowed them off the rack from a Halloween store.  There were old men with beards and young men that looked like they had just finished school. 

Some were too busy talking to note the stares of one little boy, but others met his eye and some smiled and then one of them gasped and almost choked on his ale.  “Blimey, Carl, but that’s him!”

“Nah, it can’t be!”

“Look at the scar!”

“Why that’s the Boy Who Lived!”

“No, really?”

“What’s he doing here all by himself?”

“He’s not, he’s here with Mr. Snape.”

“Not the . . . Unspeakable!” that word was said so softly that Harry nearly missed hearing it.

A sudden hush came over the crowd and a few darted fearful and cautious glances at Severus, who had his back to them, and was wearing his ebony cloak and charcoal gray robe. 

“It is, mate! That’s Snape himself . . . with Harry Potter.”

“What’s he doing with Snape?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?”

“Not me! No telling with an Unspeakable . . . best to leave them be.”

Several heads nodded. 

Harry wondered just what Severus did and why people seemed so awed and yet frightened of the tall wizard.  He looked over at Severus and whispered, “They’re all staring at us.”

“Who?”

“The people in here.”

Severus looked at Harry and then he saw how the boy’s scar was clearly visible since Harry had brushed his bangs off his forehead.  “Ah. Well, I did warn you that you were famous.  Every wizard knows your name and what you did that night.”

Harry felt embarrassed and awkward.  He didn’t feel famous or that he had done anything to be famous for.  “What about you? You’re famous too. They all keep whispering about how you’re an Unspeakable. What’s that?”

Severus slowly sipped his drink, and pushed the other over to Harry.  “An Unspeakable is what I am. I work in the Department of Mysteries, where many secret experiments and research goes on, it’s classified information, which is why we cannot speak of it to anyone, hence the term “Unspeakable”.   I deal mainly with experimental draughts and potions, and the occasional charms and defense spell.  Only when we have perfected our subject and have achieved optimum results, can we release our findings to the wizarding world and get credit for our work.  Sometimes.  Other times, what we do is so dangerous it can never be revealed to the public.  So we Unspeakables tend to have a dangerous unpredictable reputation, among other things.  We are the keepers of secrets that must never be revealed.”

“Oh. I understand now.” Harry said, then drained his glass of juice, he was so thirsty. He wanted badly to ask for another, but wasn’t sure it was allowed.

The ever-observant Snape noticed, and calmly signaled the barkeep for a second one.  He could feel the stares from the other patrons behind his back and hear the murmurs of disbelief.  He muttered irritably under his breath. He should have disguised the scar, that way they might not have been noticed.  But now was too late for regrets.  By the afternoon it would be all over the street that Harry Potter had come to Diagon Alley with Severus Snape.

Severus gritted his teeth and ignored the whispers, though he longed to Obliviate them all, the miserable gossips. None of them could keep a secret to save their soul.  He quickly finished his spritzer and waited until Harry had drunk his second pumpkin juice before paying and then saying quietly, “Come, Mr. Potter.  We’ll start with potions ingredients first and then books and robes and other clothes.  The last thing we shall do is get your wand.”

Harry did not say anything, even though he wanted to get his wand right off.  The Unspeakable must have a reason for doing things this way, and Harry had to trust that he knew what he was doing.  They visited Slug and Jiggers, where Snape helped Harry pick out a potions kit and added triple the amounts of all the ingredients because first-time brewers often botched their potions. He selected an upgraded cauldron made of iron lined with copper, it was more sturdy and better for regulating temperatures than a standard pewter one. 

Like the patrons in the pub, the apothecary was very deferential to both of them, and clearly delighted that they had stopped by to shop there. As they were leaving, they heard the thin man exclaim, “Peter, hurry up and bring some parchment. I want to make a sign for the window—Harry Potter and the Unspeakable Shopped Here!”

“Merlin preserve us!” groaned Severus. 

Harry sniggered.  “He wouldn’t really do that, would he? That’s ridiculous!”

“Take a look for yourself.  Most people turn into blithering idiots when they see a famous person.”

Harry turned his head and saw a young boy tacking up a sign in the window. “Hopping hells! They really did!”

“I told you so. Now hurry, before we’re mobbed on the street by little girls asking for your autograph.”

“My autograph? Why would anyone want that?”

“Because you’re famous.”

They hurried out of the apothecary and into another store, Gladrags, where the proprietor herself greeted them and supplied Harry with a complete new wardrobe, from the inside out.  Harry was suddenly uneasy, not knowing how he was going to pay Severus for all these things. “Umm . . .Severus? I don’t have any money right now,  to pay for the things you’ve bought me—”

Severus frowned.  “Don’t worry about that.  I can afford to buy you clothes and shoes and whatever else you need.  Your parents set up a trust fund for you, but you can’t receive the whole amount until you’re seventeen, and come of age.  Until then, I shall provide for you.”

Harry was shocked. No one had ever treated him this way before, caring about him.  “Thanks,” he said very quietly. 

They visited the robe shop next and then the bookstore, where Harry got not only schoolbooks, but some advice and a few novels.  Everywhere they went, it was the same, people rushing up to them, helping them, and then vanishing.  Or whispering about them.

Finally it was time to get his wand.  Harry felt his palms start to sweat.  He had read a little about wands in the books Severus had given him. It was written that the wand chooses the wizard.  But what if no wand chose him? What if they thought he was worthless as a wizard?  At the same time he was eager to hold the wands in his hands and see what happened.

Severus ushered him inside the shop, which was crammed full of boxes and boxes of wands.  It was dimly lit inside, and Ollivander hovered behind the desk, smiling a little too widely.  “Ah, Severus Snape.  Ebony, thirteen inches, rainbow serpent core. One of the most mystical wands I have ever crafted. And what have we here? A new apprentice?”

“I’m Harry, sir.”

Ollivander grinned, “Of course you are.  Here for a wand, are you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now let’s see which one chooses you. How about this one? White oak, twelve inches, unicorn hair core?” He held out a wand to Harry. “Give it a wave.”

Harry did. But the wand only spat sparks.

“Hmm. No. Not a match. Try this one.  Holly, ten inches, dragon heartstring core.”

That one only shot a single spark.

“No.  Let’s try this one.”

Harry went through wand after wand, some of them gave off a few sparks but none really felt right. He began to panic.  No wand had chosen him and he had gone through at least thirty.  His hand closed upon a holly wand with a phoenix core.  Finally the wand responded and shot green and gold sparks into the air.

“Ah, now that wand has a feather in it from a phoenix that is the same as—”

“No! Not that one,” interrupted Severus, grabbing the wand from Harry.

“But why? It seems to have connected well with the boy . . .”

“No. Any one but this one,” Insisted the Unspeakable.  He was not about to reveal that he had a vision about this wand, and in it Harry nearly died because of it.  “You know the history of this wand, Ollivander, and it is not safe.”

Harry bit his lip. He was frustrated and angry. Why was Snape being such a git? “Let me try it again.” He made a grab for the wand.

“I said no!” snapped Severus, glaring at the boy.

Harry stepped back, glaring at him.  “But it chose me.”

“There is another wand here better suited to you,” Severus countered. “Keep trying.”

Harry sulked.  Ollivander resumed picking off boxes from the shelf.

Harry lifted them and waved them, but without any real enthusiasm. Severus had spoiled everything.  What on earth was wrong with the wand he had before?

Finally, Ollivander found a dusty box at the back of the bottom of the cabinet and withdrew it.  “Oh, I had forgotten this was still here.  Perhaps . . .take it, lad.”

Harry unwrapped a wand carved of a creamy rowan, the wood that protected against evil.  In the handle of the wand was a strange bluish-black stone that glinted silver. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.  He gingerly took the wand and felt it warm to his touch. A feeling of utter peace swept over him, followed by an overwhelming sense of rightness. He waved the wand and sparks of all colors exploded from it and knocked over several boxes. 

Harry gasped. “I’m so sorry . . .”

But Ollivander was unconcerned.  “At last it has found a partner. Mr. Snape, do you know what this means? Do you know what this wand is?”

“The Wand of the Celestial Wayfarer,” answered Severus.  “Legend has it that your great-grandfather found a piece of a cooling meteor and he took it and placed it in a rowan wand he was working on.  Next to the meteor was a single pure white feather, edged in gilt.  When your grandfather picked it up, he knew he had found the core of this wand.  It was a wand designed to protect its holder from evil and also fight it. Only one pure in heart and strong in spirit would be able to use it.”

“Yes, and it was also said the feather was a gift . . . a gift from an angel. Hence the name Celestial Wayfarer. You were right, Mr. Snape.  This wand suits him better than the other.  Much better.”

Harry pointed his wand and saw it light up with a pure silver glow.  “I have a wand,” he murmured, feeling his magic stirring. “I really am a wizard.”

Severus clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Never doubt it,” he whispered in Harry’s ear.  “Now, once I settle this account, how would you like something to eat?”

“Yes, please. I’m starving.”

Harry elected to carry his wand rather than placing it in its box.  Then he followed Severus to one of the numerous cafes that dotted Diagon Alley and they ate a wonderful lunch of crunchy crispy fish and chips, followed by a treacle tart for Harry and an espresso for Severus.

Severus was pleased.  He had averted the disaster he had seen last night, now that the Celestial Wayfarer was in play again,  ready and willing to do anything necessary to protect its wizard.   

A week went by and Harry was gradually settling into the Snape family, he helped Tobias cook every other night, or Severus if he were home, though Severus tended to work late sometimes and then Tobias would leave him a plate. Harry was permitted to dust and vacuum the house on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  He also had Severus teach him some basic wandwork, like the Cleaning Charm and a Summoning Charm.  Severus assigned him some reading so he would be familiar with current wizard history and terms.  But there were two areas where Harry was deficient, and both of them were due to his horrid upbringing. He was still afraid of needles, despite having had vaccinations that hardly stung before.  And he still had nightmares. 

On their return to Madam Pomfrey’s office for the second round of vaccinations, Harry still needed to hold onto Severus while the shots were administered, gripping the Unspeakable’s leg in white knuckled fists and biting his lip till it bled trying not to yell.  It wasn’t that the shots hurt terribly, but the mere fear that they might caused Harry to overreact and tense up, making the ordeal worse.  He had refused the Calming Draught the second time, and regretted it, for he found he couldn’t remain calm enough and went rigid in fear, despite Snape telling him to relax. So the second round hurt more than the first, but once it was over, Severus asked Harry if he wanted to visit Godric’s Hollow, as a reward for bravely facing his fears. 

“Yes, I’d like that,” Harry said, rubbing his backside and wincing. 

“Are you up to flying there, or would you rather Apparate?”

Harry considered. He loved flying, and couldn’t seem to get enough of it.  Even with a stinging bum, which should have kept him off a broom, he couldn’t resist.  “Fly.”

“If you’re sure . . .”

“I am, sir. Flying is the best thing in the world.”

“Your father thought so too,” Snape replied, with just a hint of sarcasm, since he had always considered James Potter to be an arrogant show-off.

But the sarcasm went right over Harry’s head and he couldn’t wait to get his broom and fly to the small village of Godric’s Hollow. 

Severus was less than enthusiastic about the trip, because Godric’s Hollow held memories he would rather not recall.  It had been there that Lily had broken up with him when they were seventeen and proposed to James, though not at the same time.  They had lived in the cottage as newlyweds on their honeymoon, before moving into Potter Manor.  Harry had been born in that house and it was there Lily and James had died.  Severus had Seen their deaths, but had arrived too late to prevent them.  It was something he would regret till his dying day.  No, he did not want to return to the sleepy hamlet and recall the last time Lily had kissed him farewell, or the terrible anguish he had felt when he held her lifeless body in his arms for the last time.    But he had promised her son, and Severus prided himself on keeping his word.

Godric’s Hollow was located in the West Country, close beside the wild moors, such as Exmoor, and was both a Muggle village and a wizarding one.  It was famous for being the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor as well as the home of several noted wizard families, such as Bathilda Bagshot, the Peverells, Bowman Wright, inventor of the Golden Snitch, the Dumbledores, and of course the Potters.  It had achieved even more fame for being the place where Voldemort died at Harry’s hands.

“There are several memorials to your parents there, as well as their graves. The cottage still stands, though part of it has been blown apart as a result of the rebounded Killing Curse,” Severus told Harry as they flew towards the town, which was over a thousand years old.  He had them under a very tight Notice Me Not charm, so they could fly without fear of Muggle discovery.

“Do people know about them?”

“No, of course not.  Non-wizards cannot even see the memorials or the cottage.  All evidence of that night has been strictly concealed and if any Muggle did witness something, their memories have been altered.”

Soon they were circling over the tiny village and then landing right in front of a war memorial in the center of the town green.  There was a post office, a few shops, a church with the graveyard behind it, and a pub as well.

At first glance, Harry saw the memorial as a huge slab of gray stone, polished and with the names of several dead soldiers from World War I and II upon it.   But then Severus beckoned him closer and had him rest a hand upon the gray marble slab.

Suddenly, the gray marble shuddered and wavered—and then Harry could see the huge statue carved of his family, Lily, holding him in her arms, and smiling down at him, and James standing behind Lily, a hand resting on her shoulder, looking into the distance.  For the first time he could put a face with their names and he gazed upon the marble effigy , rapt.

Severus looked at it too and his heart constricted.  “Forgive me, Lily,” he murmured, so softly that not even Harry heard him.  “I tried.  It wasn’t enough, always too little too late.  But at least your son survived.” He placed a hand upon the statue touching Lily gently.  “You will never be forgotten.”

After a few moments, Severus led Harry away from the memorial and down a long twisty path to the cottage the Potters had occupied.  Before it was  a handsome wrought iron gate.  Severus touched the gate and a memorial plaque arose, saying that the cottage had been deliberately left in disrepair to honor the sacrifice made by James and Lily.

He pushed open the gate and they went inside, walking about the half a cottage.  Harry peered into every nook and cranny, wondering if the cottage was haunted.  “Are there ghost around here?”

Severus looked at him sharply.  “Not that I know of.  Despite the violent way their lives ended, I think your parents went to heaven and are at peace. Or so I would hope.”

The top half of the cottage had been blasted away, leaving the ruin open to the sky and the jagged timbers exposed, burnt and blackened at the tips.  Harry tried to imagine what it had been like to live here, the cottage was not very big, and the outside still had some rose bushes around it and a large apple tree with a wooden swing on it.  Did my mum sit in that swing? Did she hold me and swing back and forth when it was sunny?  He could almost recall the motion and the smell of honeysuckle and apples. 

He turned to look at Snape, who was silent and brooding beside him.  “Did you come here a lot?”

“Once or twice,” replied the other.  His lips were compressed tightly and his demeanor did not invite more questions. 

Harry couldn’t recall anything more about the cottage and tried to see if he could feel a ghostly presence in the air. In spite of what Snape had said, he hoped to feel something otherworldly, something that connected him with the parents he hardly remembered.  He closed his eyes and stood still, listening, waiting, hoping . . .

Nothing.

“It’s not fair,” he mumbled angrily.  “I can’t remember them.”

“Sometimes that is a blessing,” Severus said, rather sharply, for it was at moments like these that he wished he could retreat into the numbness of memory loss.

“Not to me.” Harry retorted. 

“Do you wish to visit their graves? Perhaps put a flower or two on them?”

“Okay.” Harry followed Severus out of the yard and back towards the village square. 

The square was quiet, not many people were about, they were all indoors working or in school. There was a kissing bough above the gate leading into the cemetery and when Harry pushed on the wrought iron gates, they gave without a squeak.  Harry was surprised to see how many graves there were, though the wizard ones were on the opposite side from the Muggle families and hidden from view by magic. 

“There,” Severus pointed to two marble headstones with two entwined cherry trees spreading their boughs over the gravesite.  The headstones were carved of fine Florentine white marble, simple but elegant.  They bore the inscriptions of James Potter (March 27,  1960-October 31, 1981) and Lily Evans Potter (January 30th 1960-October 31, 1981) and beneath their names was the quote, “The last enemy to be destroyed is death”.

Harry mouthed the quote silently and then asked, “What does that mean?”

Severus answered, in a wooden voice, utterly lacking in warmth, “It is a quote from the Bible, Corinthians 15:26, and it speaks about the resurrection of souls.  On the last Day of Judgment, when all other foes are defeated, God shall resurrect the souls of the dead, and destroy death in doing so.  Or at least, that is how some interpret it.”

Harry frowned.  “Is that how you interpret it?”

“Death is the final obstacle, or so it would seem.  But I have seen things, learned things, in my research that indicate that death is not the end, but the beginning of a new awareness, it is a gateway to the power of the spirit, a transmutation of the soul.  Magic in its purest form is spirit, and not tied permanently to flesh.  It is why some wizards can return as ghosts, though others walk the Celestial Path to its end and choose to dwell in Paradise.  They can also choose to be reborn, and thus will never die. The former Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, stated that “death was the next great adventure”,  since the soul began a new journey, beyond the confines of the earth and sky.”

“Do you think you get to choose what you come back as?”

“No.  I believe you are sent back and whatever vessel you are placed in you have to live with.  The purpose of reincarnation is to learn from the mistakes of your previous lives so you can earn salvation.”

“Then you remember who you were?”

“No.  Not usually.”

“Then how do you learn?”

“By living a good life and trying to follow your conscience.  I am not particularly good at theology, Harry, you’d do better to ask a priest or a vicar.”

“Would you mind if I flew back to the cottage and picked some roses?” Harry asked then, sensing instinctively that Severus wished to be alone.

“No. But return quickly, within ten minutes.”

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off. Within moments he was shooting across the sky and back towards the cottage, which used to be called Rosewood Cottage.

Severus knelt in the soft ground and bowed his head, his guilt overwhelming him.  “Please . . .” he whispered, the words like acid on his tongue, drawn bleeding from his tormented heart. “Lily, forgive me . . . I came too late . . . too late to warn you, too late to save you . . . death claimed you, in spite of my vision . . . forgive my arrogance, I thought my Sight made me all-knowing . . . but I knew nothing . . . I was a fool . . . and you paid for it.”  Silent tears slipped down his face to fall on the grassy mound.  “You told me to forget you . . . that all you could give me was your friendship . . . but I never could.  My heart belonged to you, then and now.  Always.  I am sorry I failed you . . . and failed your son.  You meant to name me as his godfather . . . yet you never did.  When did you change your mind?”

For that was the puzzle he had been unable to solve, the hurt he had been unable to heal.  Before Harry was born, Lily had written him, asked if he would stand as her baby’s godfather.  He had agreed, and waited to be invited to the christening ceremony once the baby was born.  But it had never happened. He had learned of the birth after the fact, and also that Black had stood as godfather to the infant.  Black, that no-good, pretentious, sly mutt! Who was Potter’s best mate, and a pureblood to boot.  Lily had always insisted that didn’t matter, but it had been Black who stood up with Harry and not the half-blood Severus Snape, Slytherin alumni.  Hurt and betrayed, Severus had returned all her letters unopened and buried himself in his work.  Until nearly a year later, when Lily had come and delivered a letter personally to Tobias, making the elder Snape promise to have Severus read it. Tobias had convinced his son to read it after a long discussion, and in the letter Lily had apologized to him, saying that James had been adamant that Severus not be named Harry’s godfather, insisting that he couldn’t be trusted. 

“I could not convince him otherwise, and since traditionally the choice of godfather is the father’s, I had to accept his choice.  But I never felt right, and I wanted you to know that I still consider you the better choice.  So I am going to add a codicil to my will, that should anything happen to me, or James, or Sirius, that you assume custody of Harry.  I know you shall raise him right, and far better you do so than my sister.”

But she had never done so, because after her death, Dumbledore had brought Harry to the Dursleys and left him there, as there was no mention of Severus in the Potters’ will, and Sirius was in Azkaban.  Severus had been so grief-stricken and full of guilt that he had not protested the ruling, and even if he had, there was no legal proof that he could use to gain custody.  The years had passed and Severus had managed to pick up the pieces of his life and go on, making his name as a top magical researcher in the Department, working on top-secret projects.  He had nearly forgotten about Harry until the visions, assuming all was well with him.

He stood up, his knees had begun to ache and Harry was not back yet.  He checked his watch, it was half-past three, Harry had been gone longer than ten minutes.  Where had the boy gotten to? It didn’t take that long to gather some roses and wildflowers.  Panicking, Severus mounted his broom and flew hell for leather towards Rosewood Cottage.

Only to find no sign of Harry anywhere.  Severus felt his stomach plummet.  Had Harry met with someone on the way to the cottage? Had he been kidnapped by Death Eaters? Severus had had no warning of danger.  Still, the boy was missing.  “Harry? Harry, where are you?”

No answer. 

Snape landed his broom, and started to search about and in the cottage.  Until a voice hailed him from the front gate. 

“Severus! Fancy meeting you here.  Come to pay your respects to old friends?”

Severus turned.  It was Rookwood, his Department Head.  Augustus Rookwood was slender,  and tended to stoop because he spent most of his time bent over a table, conducting experiments upon plants and small mammals.  He had pockmarks on the side of his face from a bout of dragon pox as a child, before the invention of the vaccine.  He was wearing the smoky gray robe and tasseled hood of the Department of Mysteries. 

“Mr. Rookwood,” he said, giving his Head a quick nod of respect.  “Are you here to visit a deceased relative?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. My mother lies here, just south of the Potters’ plot.  I always come once a month to make sure she is being tended to properly, and to put some jasmine and jonquils on her grave. Mother always did love them.  But I also have some interesting news to share with you.”

“Oh?” Severus forced himself to focus on Rookwood, though he really wanted to take his leave and search for Harry. 

“Yes. I have just learned from a reliable source at Azkaban that Sirius Black attempted to escape this morning.”

“Escape? But no one ever escapes from Azkaban.”

“Yes, well, he didn’t succeed.  The Dementors caught him trying to swim away in his dog form.  They attacked and killed him.”

“Black is dead?”

Rookwood nodded.  “So they tell me.”

“Did they find a body?”

“Yes.  Why? What do you suspect?”

“It just seems odd that after all these years, Black would be so stupid as to try and break out of Azkaban.  He never struck me as that idiotic.”

Rookwood shrugged.  “Well, you know they all go mad after awhile.  He lasted longer than most.  Although . . . they say towards the end he kept babbling about  “The other one . . . and have to find my godson . . .” The wardens thought he was having flashbacks about the Boy Who Lived and maybe he intended to go and find him.  But the point’s moot now.”

Severus frowned.  “ The other one? What could he have meant? Perhaps he knew something.” Could Black have known about Lily’s intention to name him as second godfather?

“Whatever he knew, it died with him. I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you, Augustus,” Severus said, but inwardly his gut was churning.  What Rookwood said was true, but Severus was suspicious.  Black might have been mad, but he had never attempted to escape before now.  What might he have learned that made him so reckless? One thing Snape was certain of was that such information was not something someone had wanted to be known.  Perhaps Black had learned something he shouldn’t, and had been set up to take a fall.  The question was, what secret was so deadly that Black had to die for it?

“Well, I must be off.  Left my spliced snapdragon-mandragora cross and need to see how it’s doing. “ Rookwood said, then bid Snape goodbye and Apparated away.

Severus looked about before taking to the air again. 

He flew about the whole village before finally spotting Harry down by the gravesite.  Spitting mad, filled with relief and a burning desire to take the brat by the shoulders and give him a good shaking, Severus arrowed down and landed right behind Harry, who had just finished placing a vase filled with flowers on his parents’ grave.

“Harry James Potter, where in blazes have you been?” Severus demanded. 

Harry turned. “I . . . was getting some flowers.”

“Don’t lie to me! I went to the cottage, you weren’t there. Now where were you?”

Harry stood up.  Fear was starting to congeal in the pit of his stomach, but so was indignation. Why did adults always assume he was lying when he was telling the truth? “I’m not lying, sir. I was getting some flowers, but the roses were too thick for me to break, so I went to see if anyone had some shears. I met an old lady, Bathilda Bagshot, and she lent me some and gave me a vase too.”

“And it took you over twenty minutes to get back here?” snapped Severus.

“She gave me some tea and cake too.”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to accept food from strangers?”

“She was just an old lady. How much harm could she do?”

“That old lady was a witch, and she could have done you plenty of harm, had she been one of the bad kind.” Severus scolded.  “Next time you ask my permission before running off. I thought you had been taken away.”

“Taken away?” Harry repeated.  “By what? A ghost?” he joked.

But Severus was not amused.  “Stop being cheeky! Anything could have happened to you.”

Harry rolled his eyes.  “I’m fine.”

“Need I remind you about what happened to your relatives? The same could happen to you.  Next time do as I tell you.”

Harry stiffened. He thought the wizard was overreacting majorly.  He nodded and turned about to take one last look at his parents’ final resting place, muttering under his breath about how Severus was freaking out over nothing.  It was something he did often with the Dursleys.  They had never heard what he muttered about them. But Severus was keen eared and heard what he said. 

“That’ll be enough out of you, young man!  If you can’t follow my orders, you might as well go home.  Get on your broom.”

“What?” Harry stared at him.  “But . . .but . . .”

Severus glowered at him.  “This isn’t a debate, Mr. Potter. What are you waiting for?”

Harry hopped on his broom, feeling apprehensive, resentful, and angry.  Severus was treating him like a baby and he hated it.  He hadn’t been in any danger at all.

They flew back to Spinner’s End, Harry sulking the entire time.  Severus ignored him. 

When they arrived, it was nearly supper.  Tobias had come home and was grilling some steak and baking some potatoes.  Normally Harry would have been salivating over the aroma of sizzling meat and roasting potatoes.  But he had lost his appetite. 

“Go and wash up for supper,” Severus ordered.

“I’m not hungry,” Harry muttered. 

“Fine. Then go to your room.”

Harry stomped up the stairs. 

Tobias looked up. “Something happen between you two?”

Severus told him about going to Godric’s Hollow and visiting the graves and Rookwood’s news. Then  he told his father about Harry’s sudden disappearance and attitude.  “I don’t understand . . . all of a sudden he’s giving me an attitude and telling me not to worry about strange witches.”

“Sev, he’s testing you. He might not think so, but that’s what he’s doing.  It happens to all new parents sooner or later.  Let him cool off and then go talk to him.  Explain why you were so angry, I don’t think he realizes how much he scared you.”

Severus looked doubtful.  How could Harry not know how frightened he had been when he discovered Harry was missing?  He sighed.  “All right. Do you need a hand with anything?”

“No, I’ve got it under control.  Sit down and have a glass of white wine.”

Severus obeyed, finding that the wine soothed and calmed him.  Soon the meal was ready and they both devoured the steak and potatoes, as well as a green salad. 

Meanwhile, upstairs, Harry was pacing about his room,  sulky and scared. He couldn’t believe he had answered Snape back that way.  He wondered what would happen to him now. A smart mouth had always gotten him a clip round the ear or locked in the cupboard or occasionally a smacking. Feeling  very frightened now, he curled up in the corner of the room, certain that he was in for it now.

Harry huddled in his customary corner between the dresser and the window, trying to make his heart quit racing. But it was no use. Dread curdled in his stomach and fear froze his limbs. He just knew that Severus was furious with him for talking back that way. Being cheeky had always gotten him the worst punishments at Privet Drive, and yet he never seemed to be able to control his tongue once it started blabbing. And now he'd done it again. He was sure Severus was going to wallop him till he howled, and with his bum sore already from the stupid injections, it wouldn't take much to make him cry. What's taking him so long? Uncle Vernon would have been at me already with the belt.

He looked at his watch, another new item he had received from Snape while on the shopping trip to Diagon Alley. Now he felt terribly guilty. The Unspeakable had taken him in and given him clothes and decent food and a roof over his head and this was how Harry repaid him. Selfish, freaky brat! Petunia's voice scolded, followed by Vernon's growl of, You cheeky good-for-nothing little monkey! You need to be taught some respect! Harry shivered. In his mind he could hear the crack of the belt, feel the line of fire burning on his tender skin. Not the belt. Please not that. A part of him whimpered. But he deserved it. He stood up, trembling all over. Then he squared his shoulders. Fine, then. If he was going to be beaten, he could at least take his punishment like a man. Maybe if he prepared for it, Snape might go a little easier on him, seeing that Harry was willing to accept his due.

Harry looked around the bedroom for some kind of stick or cane, but there was nothing that even resembled one. And he didn't have any belts either, all his trousers and jeans fit perfectly, had been adjusted by magic. He walked into the bathroom and found the boar bristle hairbrush sitting on the counter. It had a cherry wood back and handle. Harry winced. The hairbrush hurt, but it wasn't quite as bad as the belt. He picked it up and carried it back into the bedroom, placing it on the bed.

Just then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Gulping, he slid down his jeans and bent over the bed. Sudden tears blurred his eyes. He blinked them away. Coward crybaby! Crying before he's even taken the brush to you. He put his head on his arms, and waited. You brought this on yourself by being a cheeky brat. You deserve it.

The door to his room opened and Severus entered. "Harry, I've come to—" He stopped when he saw the position the boy was in.

"I'm ready for my punishment, sir," Harry said, trying to keep from stammering.

"What do you think you deserve for disobeying me?" Severus made himself ask.

"A good walloping," Harry answered. "With the . . . hairbrush." He hoped Snape would take the hint and not get the belt.

"I see." Severus said, now seeing the hairbrush upon the bed. He walked to the bed and picked up the brush. He still thinks I'm going to beat him. Damn it all! How do I convince him I won't? Words don't seem to work. But actions speak louder than words. I hope I'm doing the right thing. He cleared his throat.

"H-how many, sir?"

"Ten."

Harry steeled himself. Don't cry. You're not allowed to cry. Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry. He chanted the familiar litany in his head and waited. And waited. Was Severus deliberately torturing him with this endless waiting? Finally he felt a light swat.

Pat, pat, pat, pat.

What was this? These were taps, they hardly stung at all. Was Snape doing a warm-up session?

More pats followed until Severus said quietly, "Put your jeans back on. It's over."

Over? How could it be over? Beatings were supposed to hurt. It had been done all wrong. Harry remained where he was. Maybe it was a test?

"Harry. Turn over. Now." Severus' voice cracked with the command.

Harry jumped up and turned over, grabbing hastily for his jeans and yanking them up. "Sir?"

Severus was still holding the hairbrush. He dropped it and it hit the floor with a thump. "That's the one and only walloping you will ever receive from me. It's over."

Harry's eyes suddenly filled with tears as he realized what Severus meant. There would be no more beatings. No more belts, no more hairbrushes. Not ever ever again. "You'll never beat me?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"No, child. You use a hairbrush for only one thing in this house," Severus stated, picking it up. "Combing that messy mop of yours." He gently ran the brush down Harry's head.

Suddenly, Harry burst into tears, and began to bawl. He wrapped his arms about himself and cried, sobbing raggedly as he finally allowed himself to realize that the nightmare of his childhood was over.

"I'm so-o-rry!" he wailed, wanting Severus to know he hadn't meant to sass him. "I-I w-won't be che-e-eky aga-ain!" The sobs were coming faster and louder now, he couldn't control himself.

Several items flew off the dresser and landed on the ground as his magic roused.

His shoes spun about like miniature cyclones.

He cried harder.

Severus just stood there, unsure of what to do. Should he try and hold the boy, or just let him be? Every other time, Harry had flinched from him. Then he recalled another time, long ago, when he had sobbed this way and how good it had felt when Tobias held him close and rocked him. Just do it.

Severus reached out and cautiously drew the boy to him. When Harry didn't pull away, he held him tight against his chest. "Hush. Hush. You're forgiven. Just try not to do it again." He pulled the boy on his knee and rubbed his back. "There now, lad."

Harry's first instinct was to stiffen when Snape grabbed him, but then the feel of his arms and the steady beating of Severus' heart penetrated his brain and he suddenly wasn't afraid. It felt . . .good to be hugged . . .he had never been hugged much that he could recall. He tried to stop crying but couldn't. So in the end he buried his head in Severus' shoulder and let himself go.

As soon as he did, his magic settled and the shoes fell to the floor.

Severus didn't know how long it was that he held and rocked the boy, only that eventually Harry's breathing evened out and he stopped sobbing. "All right now?"

"Yes."

Harry lifted his head and peered up at Severus, his green eyes wet and red about the lids. In them Severus saw, for the first time, the beginnings of a fragile trust. I did the right thing. Finally! He heaved a sigh of relief and rumpled the boy's hair, which was what Tobias used to do to him at that age. "A long time ago, I also lived with a nasty evil man who beat me like your uncle beat you. He was my stepfather, Gilbert Malfoy." Even saying his name left a sour taste in Severus' mouth and even after twenty years he still felt compelled to flinch and lower his head. "But do you know who rescued me from that bastard? My father. He took me in after my mother died, I was broken apart, a shadow of what I'd been, and he somehow put me back together. I will try and do the same to you."

"You know then . . . what it's like."

"I do. Which is why you're not going to be punished for your cheeky mouth this time."

"I'm not?"

"No. You've been punished enough, making yourself sick with worry over how I would beat you. However, I would like you to know that what you did at Godric's Hollow, skiving off without telling me where you were going, was wrong. You . . . frightened me badly. I thought dark wizards had kidnapped you. Don't ever do that again, understand? Or else you'll be grounded with no broom."

"I won't, sir. I'm sorry I made you worry. I didn't mean to."

"Next time remember. Now, would you like to have some supper? I think Dad saved you a plate."

Harry thought about it. He felt worn out from the crying session, but also hungry. "Yes, please."

Then he slipped off Snape's lap, and ran into the bathroom to wash his face. He couldn't believe that he had blubbered like a big baby all over Severus and yet Severus hadn't gotten annoyed or disgusted and called him a crybaby coward. He didn't understand why Snape accepted it. But then he remembered what Severus had said, about having a stepdad who beat him. He understands. He knows how you get, all filled up inside with tears and hurt, until you just can't take it anymore and you just . . . burst. He splashed cold water over his face, which felt hot and puffy. It'll be all right. Someday.

Drying his face, he returned to the bedroom, found that Severus was no longer there, and made his way downstairs. The steak and potato and salad tasted wonderful. Severus was in the den, talking quietly with Tobias while Harry ate. Harry listened to the murmur of voices and felt content for the first time in a very long time. He took his time eating, there was no need to rush, no one would yell or knock him down for eating food fit for decent people. So he savored the silence and the food and thought back to the day Snape had rescued him from the cupboard. That had been the best day of his life. Except, perhaps, for this one.

HPSSHPTSHP

The next morning, the Daily Prophet had the demise and attempted escape of inmate Sirius Black splashed all over the front page. Harry read the paper while eating his corn flakes and bananas. One of the things he enjoyed most about wizarding papers was how the pictures moved and changed when you looked at them. It was almost as good as watching a video. Harry knew that the wizard they spoke of was the same one who had betrayed his parents and he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the man, not after everything he had endured as a homeless loveless orphan.

Today, Severus was working during the morning, testing out a new potion he had invented called Regressus Memorius, designed to help bring repressed memories to the forefront of a person's memory, so they could be treated for them and also serve as evidence of abuse in court cases. Severus' contact and friend in the Auror Department, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was very excited about this project and couldn't wait until it had been deemed safe for public consumption and Severus given credit for his invention. "Just think of all the time it could save, not to mention the cases overturned for not enough evidence. Veritaserum's good, but it won't work on memories that you can't recall."

Severus had promised Kingsley a vial once it was fully tested.

Tobias was working from home today, drawing up plans for a new set of flats going up on the east side of Manchester, roomy and expensive. Harry watched the master architect draw for about an hour before becoming bored and asking if he could go for a walk.

Tobias waved him away and Harry shot out the door.

Walking about the neighborhood was pleasant, it was a fine sunny day, warm but not hot. As he walked, he thought again about how great it felt to finally live with people who liked him, who worried about him eating, gaining weight, having new clothes and staying healthy. And who never called him freak or scolded him for doing magic. Last night had been a turning point in his relationship with Severus, as he had finally come to trust that the wizard would never raise a hand to him in anger. Not even when he was cheeky and insolent, or disobedient. He was finally free of the suffocating fear, the cycle of violence and hate. It could only get better from here.

That night, Severus told Harry and Tobias that his potion had been successful in over ninety percent of his test subjects, volunteers who had agreed to test the potion, and with the patent pending, should be available to go on the market in about two weeks. They celebrated with Tobias' delicious cracker crumb baked chicken, which was tender, juicy, and crispy. There was also a side of fresh rolls drizzled with butter and sautéed mushrooms, plus rice pilaf. Severus had a glass of Moscato with his meal, and so did Tobias. Harry had a glass of butterbeer. For a sweet there was cider donuts and piping hot chocolate with whipped cream.

Harry told Tobias that this was the best meal he had ever eaten, and the architect laughed. "This was what my mum used to make on Saturdays, and growing up me and my sister Kate thought it was heavenly. Thank you, Harry."

"Severus," Harry began, calling the Unspeakable by his name for the first time at home. "Can I . . .try that potion you invented? Would it . . . help me get rid of my nightmares? The ones I keep having that I can't really remember?"

Severus considered. "Yes. It might. But sometimes it can be unpleasant to face the fears your mind has been hiding from all these years. Would you be willing to take that risk?"

"Yes, I think so. If I can stop having these stupid dreams, you can get a good night's sleep."

Tobias chuckled. "And so can you, lad." He reached out and tousled Harry's hair.

Harry remained still, even though he wanted to shy away at first. Tobias' hand was so big, but all it did was ruffle his hair gently.

"It might take longer than a night for you to extract the memories. We can begin tomorrow night, since my volunteers should be finished with their memory extraction by then." Severus told him.

"What do you do with the memories? Do you like, remove them permanently?"

"No. I do use a Pensieve to keep the memories in, so the person can view them objectively and so come to grips with them. And then, when they are ready, they can take the memories back. Or submit them to a court for evidence if necessary."

"Oh. Does it hurt to take the memories?"

"No. What hurts is remembering them in the first place, because usually they are things that you want very badly to forget. Are you certain you wish to do this?"

Harry nodded. "I want the nightmares to stop. And you told me if I didn't face my fears I'd keep on having them."

"Exactly. You're a brave boy, Harry. Like your parents before you."

Harry beamed. "Severus? Will you show me that Summoning Charm again?"

"Certainly. Get your wand and we shall practice Summoning your shoes."

Harry ran to get his wand. Gradually, with Snape's encouragement, he was learning to master his magic and to stop denying its existence. The longer he spent using it and being taught by Severus, the more natural it felt.

They spent the rest of the evening practicing Summoning small objects, like Harry's shoes, Tobias' cap, and Severus' leather satchel. By the time school started, Harry would be a master with the charm, and ahead of many of his classmates. Or so Severus intended.

"You seem to have a natural talent for Charms," Severus told Harry. "Like your mother."

Harry was pleased. He seemed to have inherited his flying ability from his father and his affinity for charms from Lily. "I like casting spells," he told the Unspeakable happily. "Almost as much as I like being on a broom."

"Flying is all well and good, but improving your wand work and incantations should be a priority." Severus stressed. "That's what you're going to need later on in life, a good grasp of your magic and where your talents lie with it. The only thing you need a broom for is transportation and playing Quidditch." His lip curled involuntarily as he said that last.

"Quidditch? What's that?"

"The major sport in the wizarding world. And the most ridiculous game ever invented," Severus replied. "I would advise against ever getting involved in it. It's a waste of time and money and also dangerous. Your father played it at school, and it made him even more arrogant than normal."

"Oh." Harry sensed that Severus didn't much care for his dad, he wondered why, but wasn't about to ask. "But I like flying," he said plaintively.

"Like it all you want, but remember, your schoolwork comes first," Snape said. "Don't be like your father, obsessed with a stupid game. You're smarter than that."

"Okay, sir." Harry said obediently. His curiosity was raging now. Clearly there was bad blood between Severus and James Potter. The boy considered who he could talk to and find out why. He glanced at Tobias. Maybe he would know what had gone on.

Harry waited patiently until Severus had gone upstairs to take a shower before approaching the architect. "Toby?"

"Yes, Harry? You look like you're thinking real hard about something," the elder Snape said, eyeing the boy knowingly. "What's on your mind?"

"Did you ever . . . meet my dad?"

"No. He was a pureblood and was not someone Severus was friends with."

"Yeah, I figured that out all right. But why? What happened to make Severus dislike him so much?"

Tobias heaved a sigh. "I'm not really sure I ought to tell you this, kid, but I know my son, and he doesn't want to talk about his schooldays, especially where it concerns your dad. Still, you might as well know the truth, otherwise you'll fret yourself to death wondering. They were bitter rivals and that's putting it mildly. Near as I could figure, your dad liked to pick on Sev, and he was a bully. Sev used to say he was a troublemaker and liked to hex people whenever he felt like it and thought it was funny. He ran with a bunch of boys called the Marauders, who had a reputation for pranks and trouble. Your dad was popular, though, as well as rich and handsome. He seemed to think Severus was beneath him and taunted him every chance he got, as well as hexing him. Severus couldn't stand him. Sev's always been a serious sort, especially when it comes to his academics and his magic. James was his opposite in that regard."

"So he was a bully like my cousin," Harry supplied.

"Yes, you could say that. Sev never really told me much, it was from Lily I heard most of what I'm telling you."

Harry's eyes widened, "But if she didn't like him, why'd she marry him?"

Tobias shrugged. "I guess he changed, or she fell in love with him. But the fact remains that he was a bully to my son, and that's why Sev doesn't like to talk about him, or be reminded too much about his schooldays."

"I understand. That's why I don't like to talk about my aunt and uncle much. Or Dudley either." Harry said, now comprehending Severus' insistence on using magic and studying hard. And also the Unspeakable's attempts to make Harry more like his mother than his father.

Tobias reached out and patted Harry's shoulder. "Sev still has a few issues with his past. So please excuse him if he seems sharp with you. He's not angry with you, but with what happened a long time ago. Don't worry, he'll get over it. "

"I'm sorry my dad was mean to him."

"Son, you don't have to apologize. What happened between them is in the past, and has nothing to do with you. Harry, we all make our own choices, right and wrong. And there's nothing you can do to change what happened then. No one's perfect, not your dad, or Sev, or me. We've all done things we regret, things that hurt people we loved, things that we knew were wrong. I think your dad got his arse kicked by your mum, that's why he turned his life around and stopped being a spoiled rotten brat. See, your mum was Sev's best friend, and Lily never tolerated bullies and spoiled brats. She must have told your dad off good and insisted he behave around Sev or else. And James loved her enough to do as she wanted, or at least that's how I see it. Sev never had any problem with him once he started going steady with your mum." Tobias tactfully did not mention that was probably because Severus had avoided both of them like the plague once Lily was engaged.

"Who do you think I'm like more?" Harry asked then.

"I think you resemble your dad physically and you have your mum's personality and kind heart. But Harry, you're not your parents. You're your own person, and that's what's important. Sev and I love you for yourself, not because of how much of your mum or dad is in you. You can count on that."

"Honest?"

"Cross my heart," Tobias said earnestly. "Now, why don't you get ready for bed? You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." He ruffled Harry's hair lightly.

The boy fought to keep from trembling, reminding himself that he was safe and then he yawned and stood up. "Okay. I'm getting sleepy. Good night, Toby."

Harry was tired from all the magical practice and was asleep in seconds, even before Severus came in to tell him his nightly bedtime story. But he woke a little when Severus smoothed his hair back from his eyes and fixed the covers over him, smiling sleepily at the other man before closing his eyes again. It appeared that Tobias was right, and Severus really did care for him. Maybe even love him.

SSHPSSTSHP

The next night:

Severus waited until nightfall to bring Harry to the Department of Mysteries, so no one would see him escorting a small dark-haired boy down a corridor forbidden to all save those with top security clearance. He had explained that it was safer to do the regression in his lab, where he had everything set up, including the Pensive, which had been out on loan from Rookwood's office and could not be taken out of the building, it had wards built in, and only Ministry officials were allowed access to it. There was a large bed in the stone lab, the Pensieve was off to one side upon a low table, and several vials stood on a shelf built into the wall. A cauldron filled with a distillation of lavender, honey, and valerian simmered slowly in a corner, filling the workroom with its calming soporific scent.

The fireplace crackled merrily with applewood logs, adding to the homey feeling. Severus explained that it was important for the volunteer to feel relaxed and comfortable while undergoing the memory regression. Severus had suggested Harry wear his pajamas and sleep socks, as if he were getting ready for bed. "Now, once you take the draught, I will be monitoring you closely. If it seems you are growing too upset I shall try and bring you out of the regression."

"How can you do that? I thought once you took a potion and it started to react you couldn't stop it."

"Normally that would be so, unless you have an antidote. However, with this potion, I can use Legilimancy to monitor you and help you Occlude your mind if necessary."

"I don't know what you mean by that, but that's okay." Harry stretched out on the bed, it was nearly as comfortable as his bed back at the Snape house.

Severus brought over the potion, it was colored a smoky purple, and said, "Three swallows, no more, no less."

Harry swirled the potion about, it smelled like fruit and then he drank. One, two, three swallows.

Then he lay back and closed his eyes, wondering when the potion would start to take effect.

After three minutes, he felt himself grow sleepy and started to doze.

Severus was watching closely. The boy didn't seem to be experiencing anything traumatic. But he knew the memories were buried deep in Harry's subconscious.

Then Harry began to twitch and whimper. He groaned softly, and Severus used his wand to slip into Harry's mind. He saw two different memories. One was the first time Harry had been put into the dark scary cupboard, but the other one was of a tall black robed figure yelling at a red-haired woman.

"Step aside, woman! And let me have your misbegotten child!"

"No! You'll not take my Harry!" Lily shouted back, drawing her wand.

Severus felt his chest seize. Lily! And Voldemort!

Then he heard Harry wailing, "Mummy! Mummy!"

Severus could feel his terror, as he watched the tall wizard cut Lily down with a green flash of light even as she cast a spell of her own.

Then he advanced upon Harry and spoke those two fateful words, that had spelled death for dozens of wizards.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Killing green light flashed from the bone wand . . .struck the howling infant . . .and was turned aside, to rebound upon the Dark Lord.

Severus quickly retreated and drew out the Voldemort memory, placing it in the Pensieve.

He also snagged the memory of the cupboard and placed it in a vial to be viewed later. He sensed the potion start to bring up yet another memory, but decided that two were enough for Harry to deal with for one night and quickly Occluded the youngster's mind, placing blocks in his consciousness that would keep the memory locked away.

Harry opened his eyes, which had a sheen of tears in them, which he wiped away with the side of his hand.

"I saw her . . . my mum. She . . . defied him and then he killed her." The boy's voice was hoarse. "I knew she had, I mean . . . but I didn't remember that I saw it . . . saw her . . .die."

"I know. Thrice defied." Severus murmured, gently patting Harry's back.

The boy stiffened. Then he sniffled. "What's thrice defied mean?"

"A child shall be born as the seventh month dies to parents who have thrice defied the Dark One . . . thus runs the prophecy. It was made before you were born, and it foretold the eventual defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Severus told him quietly. "That is why he tried to kill you. Because you were born to be his bane."

"Me?"

"You. And it was so, for he has now been slain. Or so everyone thinks."

"You don't think he's dead?"

"I think it possible he died that night. But there was no body to be found and that suggests his spirit may yet continue on, in a half-life. But that is speculation, I have no proof," answered Snape briskly. "I have placed the memory in the Pensieve for you to view and analyze. You do not have to do so right away."

But Harry did not want to wait. He allowed Severus to show him how to use the Pensieve and then went and watched the memory over. It was easier to view this second time around. He saw then how brave his mother had been, how she had stood tall and proud, defiant to the last, despite knowing her death had come for her. He came up out of the Pensieve gasping, with tears on his cheeks.

"She really was brave, wasn't she?" he asked. "The spell she cast, was that the one that saved me?"

"Yes, I would think so." Severus said, his voice filled with sorrow. "She was the bravest witch I ever knew. I wish I could have saved her."

"Me too." Harry's eyes met Severus' own and in them he saw a matching ache for a brilliant woman gone too soon. He reached a hand out to the Unspeakable, laying it on one charcoal gray sleeve. "Severus . . .? Could you—"

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to.

Instinctively, Severus drew him into his arms, finding comfort holding the small boy, the last legacy of his best friend and unrequited love.

Silently the two mourned, but when their tears were spent, Harry blew his nose and asked to see the last memory—the cupboard.

"Are you certain? Perhaps you ought to wait."

"No. I want it done with." Harry said firmly.

Together, they viewed the last memory.

"I always thought the walls were going to fall and crush me," he said afterwards. "But they were just real close and it was dark. I was only four."

Severus' eyes flashed. "If they were here before me now . . . I would curse them till they begged for mercy. And then I would do it all over again. They belong in the same hell with Gilbert Malfoy."

"Is he dead too?"

"Regrettably, no." Severus shook his head. "How do you feel now?"

"Like . . . I've been through hell." He said honestly. Then he apologized. "But now I know where the nightmares came from. So I can just . . . put them away, right?"

"Yes. I shall place them in vials and you may either leave them there for a time, or reabsorb them."

"I think I'll leave them for awhile."

"That would be best. There was another memory that you have suppressed, but I have blocked it for now. We can view it tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Okay. I am kind of tired." Harry yawned.

"Wait here. I need to get a form for you to fill out, saying you participated willingly in my study." Severus said, then he headed to the records room next to his lab, where the forms were kept.

As he went to the very back of the room, where the filing cabinets with the forms were stored, he mused on how things might have been different, if only Lily had survived.

Or if his Sight had shown him the danger a few minutes earlier.

It is what it is, Sev, he reminded himself firmly. No sense in wishing for what can never be. It was a hard truth, but one he had thought he had accepted long before. But Harry's sudden inclusion in his life had brought all his old insecurities back. He rifled through the drawer, the consent forms were always at the back. Finding what he sought, he went to shut the drawer, only to find it would only shut partially. Frowning, he pulled the drawer out and felt about in the back, something must be stuck.

His questing fingers found a large yellow envelope. He pulled it out, wondering how it had come to be jammed back there.

The address was to the Office of Official Bequests and Records. Severus stared at it. How did this document come to be down in the Department of Mysteries? Shrugging, he stuffed the file into his satchel. He would deal with it later. It probably had been misfiled by a young irresponsible clerk. He headed back to Harry and had him fill out the form, which he then filed in his private folder.

Harry was looking at him owlishly, which Severus found strangely endearing. He found he wanted the child to feel comfortable around him and so he said, "Tobias told me this afternoon about that discussion you had with him last night. I'm a little annoyed that he didn't wait for me before telling you, but then my father has always done what he damned well pleases, and he meant well." Severus coughed. "He says that you were worried that I might blame you for what your father did."

"I'm not a bully, sir." Harry said quietly. "I don't make fun of people or hurt them."

Severus placed his hands very lightly on Harry's shoulders. "I know that. You might look like Potter, but you're not him. Not in here, where it counts." He tapped the boy lightly on the chest. "I would never confuse the two, or hold you responsible for what he did to me. However, I do not like talking about it, or him, and don't expect me to sing his praises. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Severus." He gave the Unspeakable a tentative smile and relief shone in his green eyes.

Severus gave him a small smile in return. "Smart boy. Come, let's go home, you're just about done in."

Then they Flooed back home. Harry was so tired he went straight to bed and slept dreamlessly until Tobias shook him awake.

The next night, Harry and Severus returned to the Department of Mysteries and started to extract the other memory Severus had sensed lurking in Harry's subconscious. It was an even older one than the one of Voldemort slaying Lily. Severus deposited it in the Pensive and together they went to view it.

James Potter leaned on the table, frowning down at his best friend, Sirius Black, who was sitting next to Lily, while Harry played with some light-up blocks and a soft bear in her lap. "I don't see why we have to change Secret Keepers, Padfoot. You've been a perfectly good one till now."

The dark-haired handsome Sirius chuckled. "I know, Prongs, but things have really heated up since Harry was born. Dumbledore thinks it best if we change Keepers, since I'm the too obvious choice. If old snake shorts comes after me, he'll do it because he knows I'm your Secret Keeper. It's not safe, James. Trust me. You need to change Keepers."

"Who could we pick?" asked Lily. "Remus is too vulnerable on the full moon."

"There's always Peter." Sirius said.

"Wormtail? I don't like it." Lily shook her head.

"Sirius is right, Lil. Peter is a good choice," James suddenly agreed. "No one will expect us to choose him over our best man and Harry's godfather. He's invisible to most people. All right, we'll do it."

Lily frowned. "James, I don't think that's a good idea. Peter is . . . he's shifty, I've never trusted him."

"Nonsense, love! Wormtail's a Marauder and he's a s loyal as they come. It'll be fine. I'll tell Dumbledore to meet us here at the cottage for the new binding. Everything's going to be fine, Lily. Don't worry about a thing. Right, Harry?" He reached over and tickled Harry under the chin.

Harry giggled hysterically.

When Severus came up out of the Pensieve, he was speechless. Of all the things he had expected to see in this memory, learning that the Potters had changed Secret Keepers was not it. And if that had occurred, it meant that Black had been innocent, that Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters and Black had taken the fall later on. No wonder he had tried to escape, to prove his innocence. For besides Black, Harry was the only witness to that agreement still living.

All night Severus had been itching to see what had been hidden in that envelope he had plucked from behind the filing cabinet. Now he was consumed with curiosity. But first he asked Harry what he thought about the memory they had just viewed, which Severus carefully removed from the Pensieve and bottled, placing it in his satchel. It was evidence that could be used to clear Black's name and set the record straight. It was also evidence that could bring a murderer to justice.

"That my mum and dad were betrayed by someone called Wormtail." Harry said.

"A man named Peter Pettigrew, whom the world thinks was killed by Sirius Black. But I have a sneaking suspicion that he survived that encounter and is still at large somewhere. Pettigrew was an unregistered Animagus whose form was a rat. He might have escaped the Blasting Curse by transforming and running away. Which means Black was innocent."

"That's terrible! They put an innocent man in prison." Harry exclaimed. "And then he died there."

"Yes. Black knew Pettigrew betrayed them. That must have been what he was trying to tell people about. With Pettigrew still free, he feared for your life."

"What can we do about it?"

"Submit the memory as evidence once we find Pettigrew. I can speak with Kingsley and show him what we've found. He should be able to mount a search for the rat." Severus said. Then he dug in his satchel and pulled out the envelope. Turning it over, he found the return address was from L. P. Rosewood Cottage, Godric's Hollow, Exmoor. Severus froze. This was from Lily. If it contained what he thought . . . He carefully lifted the seal with a small quill sharpener, he could always reseal it later.

Inside were several sheets of parchment, written in Lily's distinctive flowing script. The top sheet was dated October 28th, 1981. And it was titled—the Last Will and Testament of Lily Evans Potter. Severus' heart began to pound as he scanned the document rapidly, finally coming to the part which specified who would be godfather to Harry and assume custody upon her death.

There, in black and white, was the codicil—Should I die untimely along with my husband, James Potter, and should Sirius Black be incapacitated or unable to perform his godfatherly duties, custody of my son, Harry James Potter, shall go to his secondary godfather, chosen personally by me, one Severus Tobias Snape, Unspeakable. Custody to be assumed immediately upon our deaths.

She had submitted the document after all. Severus closed his eyes. All those years of resentment, of thinking that she didn't trust him, that their friendship meant nothing . . .when all along she had done as she had promised. Harry would have come to him if this document had been filed properly. Severus scowled ferociously. Because of some stupid lazy-arse clerk . . . but no, this would have gone directly to the Department Head, the owl would have delivered it directly. So how did it come to be tossed into a records drawer in the Department of Mysteries? The only answer was someone had stolen the file and made sure it would not be found until it was too late. Someone who did not want Snape to assume custody of Harry.

Severus seethed. God damn you, James Potter! You would have been the only one who knew of Lily's decision and hated me enough to make sure this new document never saw the light of day. Who did you pay off to steal this and bring it here? And why not just destroy the document in the first place? Unless . . . yes, I can see the sigil here, it was warded against such a thing, and if attempted, the author of the will would know it. Ha! Lily outsmarted you there! My clever heart.

He gently smoothed out the parchment, re-reading the codicil again. Everything was in order. If he chose to file guardianship papers, this document would prove he was Lily's choice and give him the right to challenge the Ministry over Harry's wardship. He quickly refolded the document and placed it in his satchel.

"What's that, Severus?"

"Your mother's will. Naming me as your godfather and granting me custody over you till you come of age."

"Really? Then she did want me to live with you."

"Yes. All these years I thought . . . never mind. It's not important now. With this I can petition the Ministry for guardianship," Severus told him. "They can't contest an official document like this, signed and witnessed."

"Why would they?"

"Because of my profession. It's long been tradition for an Unspeakable to not be attached to anything save his or her work. Having a family is strongly discouraged, because it takes away from an Unspeakable's dedication to the department and his research and experiments. But with this even Rookwood must see I—"

The door to the lab burst open and three Aurors entered, wands out and pointing at Severus. "Severus Snape, you're under arrest for the kidnapping and illegal concealment of Harry Potter! Surrender your wand immediately and come with us!"

Severus froze. "Kidnapping? There must be some mistake, I rescued this boy from the aftermath of an attack by Death Eaters—"

"Save it, Snape. We've orders to bring you in. Resist and we'll take you down," growled a tall blond Auror.

"Better do as they say, Severus," advised Rookwood, coming in behind them. "I'd hate for you to be permanently damaged."

"What about Harry?"

"He'll be looked after. Fenris, secure the boy," Rookwood said.

"No!" Harry cried, horrified. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Let Severus go!" He drew the Celestial Wayfarer.

"Now, put that away, boy. Don't you know that pulling a wand on an Auror is a serious offense?" Rookwood began, going to grab Harry.

Harry backed away.

Out of patience, Rookwood snarled a Disarming Charm.

Harry's wand was knocked from his hand. It rolled to a stop at Rookwood's feet. The Head of the Unspeakables bent and picked up the wand.

A second later there was a bright blue flash and Rookwood was screaming and shaking his hand, which was blistered and blackened.

Harry's wand lay on the floor, still glowing with an eldritch light.

Severus gasped. So the legend was true. It was said only those pure of heart and untainted by the dark could hold the Celestial Wayfarer. Any other who tried would feel the wand's wrath, as the angel feather core would not permit dark wizards to touch it. As Severus watched, Rookwood's face suddenly twisted in agony and then his features began to shift until a new face emerged, a patrician face, handsome but haughty and cruel, framed by dark blond hair and deepset blue eyes. It was a face Severus knew well.

"Gilbert Malfoy!" he spat. "I should have known! You're a Metamorphmagus. And a traitor!"

The false Rookwood clapped. "Very clever, half-breed! You finally figured it out."

"How long have you been spying on me, Malfoy?"

"Only about a week. Imagine my shock when I heard that you were squiring Harry Potter about in Diagon Alley. The Minister was fit to be tied. I assured him I would handle it, and make sure you were punished properly for your presumption, half-breed. I was hoping I'd find you here, seeing as you had the boy volunteer for your little project. I checked your files." Gilbert was smirking, and waving about a thin key on a chain about his neck.

"Where's the real Rookwood, you bastard?" snarled Severus, thrusting Harry behind him.

"Oh, I'm afraid he met with a little accident. An explosion," Gilbert replied, shaking his head.

"He's dead?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Most unfortunate. But accidents happen in your line of work, don't they? Or in prison, when one is foolish enough to try and outrun Dementors." Then he snarled, "What are you waiting for? Take him!"

"Harry, run!" Severus ordered, then brought his wand up in a block.

Harry snatched his wand up from the floor. Then he began to back away. He knew without being told that these men were up to no good. He spotted the satchel on the floor by Snape's foot. All the evidence rested in that small bag. He pointed his wand. "Accio Snape's bag!"

The bag flew into his hand.

One of the Aurors started after him. "C'mere, you little brat. You're coming with us!"

Harry turned and ran towards the fireplace. He knew his only hope was to use the Network and Floo back to Spinner's End. He saw Snape duck a curse, then stick out a foot to trip the Auror pursuing Harry.

Harry heard a thud and then he grabbed a handful of Floo powder and cried, "Serpiente! Snape residence, Spinner's End!" The first part was the password to unlock the wards on the Floo so Harry could return to Spinner's End. Harry threw himself into the emerald flames and was whisked away.

"Quick! Follow him!" shouted a voice.

"Can't. It's blocked, bugger it all!" answered the Auror who had tripped.

Gilbert swore. "He won't get far. We'll find him. For now, let's transport Snape to Azkaban. I always said he'd end up there, the bastard!" He kicked the stunned form of his former stepson. Then they vanished from the room, their captive bound and floating between them.

Harry stumbled  through the Floo Network and tripped upon exiting the fireplace, landing with a thud on his bottom on the hearth.  "Ow!" he yelled, then quickly stood up and brushed himself off.  "Toby! Sir, come quick! They've arrested him!" he practically howled, he was so beside himself. He clutched Snape's leather satchel to him as if it were a million Galleons.

Tobias entered the den at a run, having heard Harry calling from all the way across the house, where he had been working at his drafting table in his study.  The row house was bigger on the inside than it looked, thanks to space warp spells, and had many more rooms than a normal house.  As soon as he caught sight of Harry, alone on the hearth, soot-stained with his hair sticking up, holding onto Severus' bag for dear life, he knew something terrible had happened.  "Harry! Where's Sev? You look like hell, kid. Were the memories that bad?"

"No.  But some . . . some magic police came and they arrested Severus for . . . for kidnapping me!" Harry blurted.  "And there was this other wizard, at first he looked like Severus' boss, but then he changed and Severus called him . . .umm . . .called him Gilbert M-Malfoy. They wanted to take me with them but I knew I had to warn you so I ran, and I took Severus' bag with me because it's got a lot of information in it. We have to get Severus out of jail, Toby! Before a Dementor Kisses him!"

Tobias' mind was spinning, but even so he kept his head.  "Harry, be calm.  Dementors don't Kiss people unless they're sentenced to death. That much I know for a fact. All right, son.  I want you to sit down here on the couch and tell me everything that happened tonight. Start at the beginning."

Harry obeyed, sinking down on the couch and slowly telling his story. 

Tobias listened intently.  "And you say the memories are in here and Lily's will?"

"Yes, sir. I saw Severus put them in here."

"Good. With them we can get him out of jail, or whatever they call it.  I'll need to talk to Kingsley.  Harry, I'll need you to firecall the Auror Department and ask to speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt. He'll know what to do."

"I can do that, sir."

"Good. Do it now, please. I can't stand the thought of Sev being locked up in that hellhole.  We have to get him out of there.  And bugger bloody Gil Malfoy, the rotten traitor! I'll bet my drafting tools he's affiliated with Death Eaters. I never liked the bastard, even before he hurt Sev."

Harry slid off the couch and used the Floo Network again, contacting Magical Law Enforcement and asking for Auror Shacklebolt. 

Once Harry had told him what had happened, Kingsley Apparated to Spinner's End.  Severus had keyed the wards to his magical signature, which was impossible to fake, since every wizard's was unique like a set of fingerprints.  Kingsley was a tall well-built wizard with skin the color of fine teakwood, inherited from his Kenyan mother.  He wore his official red with navy trim Auror uniform with style, but his face was grave. 

He greeted Tobias respectfully, then said, "You do know you're harboring a fugitive, Toby?" He indicated Harry with a jerk of his head.

"Only according to the Ministry and bloody Gil Rothschild-Malfoy," Tobias growled, his gray eyes flashing with temper.  "If not for Sev's Sight, the kid here would have died of dehydration and magical drain in the cupboard and there would go your sainted hero.  You ought to be thanking him on your knees, Shacklebolt, not arresting him!"

"Yeah," Harry added.  "He saved my life. Nobody else gave a damn! Why don't you arrest Gil Malfoy, he's a nasty git?"

Kingsley held up his hands.  "Peace, my friends! I'm not the enemy here.  Why don't we sit down and discuss what happened?"

Twenty minutes later, Kingsley had heard the whole story, from both Tobias and Harry's point of view.  "The kidnapping charge, Malfoy might make that stick, since Sev didn't report immediately that he had removed Harry from Privet Drive, but like you said, Toby, there were extenuating circumstances.  Plus, from what you've told me, Harry, your relatives were totally unsuitable to be your guardians and something should have been done years ago." Kingsley shook his head.  "However, we all trusted Albus Dumbledore's judgment, and assumed he knew what was best.  There was much to admire about the man, but some of his decisions were rather, shall we say, backwards?  When you last saw Sev, Harry, was he conscious?"

"I don't know . . . he helped me escape, but then just before I left, I think I saw him lying on the floor. But he didn't attack the Aurors, sir.  They attacked him, and that Malfoy creep, he tried to pick up my wand when he knocked it out of my hand and it . . .hurt him.  My wand, I mean. It burned his fingers."

Kingsley's eyebrows rose .  "I have never heard of a wand doing that before.  May I see it?"

Harry removed the Celestial Wayfarer from his sleeve. 

Kingsley took it reverently.  "Ah, so it has finally chosen a master.  This wand had become legendary and all of us in the Department swore it would never find a wizard to wield it.  And you say it scorched Gilbert's fingers?  That can mean only one thing.  That he is a dark wizard, for the Wayfarer will not tolerate dark magic."

"What are you saying? That a dark wizard arrested my son?"

"We did not know he was one, but yes.  I will do my best to get Sev released, though it may take awhile. But this discovery will put any claims Gilbert makes into doubt.  We have much evidence in our favor, as well as Harry's own testimony, to show that he was rescued from an abusive environment, and also that Severus was acting under a Vow of Obligation.  Together with Lily's will, we can show that Severus has legal rights to protect and shelter Harry and if we play our cards right, we can get the kidnapping charge overturned."

"Will he go to trial?" asked Tobias.

"I'm afraid that is what Gilbert is pushing for.  He has much influence with the Wizengamut.  He is the only son of a pureblood House and affiliated with the Malfoys as their foster son. He has money and connections.  But if he does, all our evidence will be able to be presented, and you and Harry stand as witnesses."

"Will he need a barrister?"

"Yes, and I can obtain one for him.  Erica Zabini has won many a case for the Auror Department and she has no love for Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy."

"Good. Just let me know how much the retainer is," said Tobias.  "How soon can you start the ball rolling, old friend?"

"It has already started," Kingsley said.  "I'll be in touch with you again, Toby." He rose to his feet.  "Harry, because you are an orphan, the Ministry may insist you be removed from Spinner's End-"

"No!" Harry cried.

"They can just kiss my arse," Tobias said. 

"Toby, if the order becomes official, it might be wise to cooperate, to show that you respect Ministry policy," Kingsley cautioned.  "If that happens, please know that I shall take Harry into my own custody and ensure nothing happens to him."

"But won't the Minister just take him from you too?"

"Not if Harry invokes the sacred Auror Protection Bond," Kingsley said, his white teeth glinting like diamonds.  "Once he does that, I am bound to defend him with my life and my magic, for a period of seventy-two hours.  Long enough to make it through the trial.  I must go, I need to brief Erica about this case.  Sit tight and don't do anything until you hear from me."

An instant later he was gone. 

Tobias stared at the spot where Kingsley had been moments before and muttered, "Bloody Gil Malfoy! I should have bashed his brains out when I had the chance."

Harry hung his head.  He couldn't help but feel guilty, that it was his fault Severus had gotten arrested.  "I'm sorry, sir."

"What are you apologizing for?" Tobias turned to look at the eleven-year-old.  "Don't go blaming yourself, kid.  Gil has always borne a grudge against Severus, he was jealous of how much Eileen loved her son, and jealous that a mere half-blood had more magic than he ever would, and was smarter to boot.  You aren't to feel responsible for any of this, understand?"

"But it's because of me that they arrested him."

"No, it's not.  Gil has been searching for years for a way to get Severus discredited in the wizarding community.  But he's not going to succeed.  Because you and I are going to show him what it means to mess with a Snape, the stinking coward!"

"How?"

"By telling the truth," answered the elder Snape.  "Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower? Then I think we ought to eat a little."

Harry agreed, even though the last thing he wanted right then was food.  His stomach was in knots over Severus.  Severus had told him about Azkaban and the Dementors, and Harry was terrified they might set a Dementor on Severus and call that an accident.  He hoped that Kingsley could do something to protect Severus. 

Kingsley and the Auror barrister, Erica Zabini, called for a meeting down at headquarters the next morning.  Kingsley had used all of his influence to pull strings and get Severus transferred to a minimum security cell in Azkaban, which meant that no Dementors roamed the halls, and only one guarded the entrance to the block, otherwise human guards were in charge of the prisoners.  A round-the-clock Dementor patrol was only necessary with maximum security prisoners, which Severus was not.

Tobias was extremely grateful to Kingsley for that small bit of mercy, he had been unable to sleep all night imagining the horrible things his son was forced to endure from those creatures.  Harry had remained awake too, afraid to go to sleep for fear of nightmares, and he finally had found Tobias on the couch and curled up next to him, falling asleep after two o'clock in the morning.

Tobias shook hands with Erica, a lively young woman with her dark hair done up in a fancy chignon, she had bright brown eyes and a friendly demeanor, but once she sat down across the table, she was all business. 

"Gilbert has used his connections to get the trial slated for the day after tomorrow, I'm sure he feels that a speedy trial would benefit him.  That doesn't leave us much time, but we can work with it.  I'll need depositions from both of you, and Harry, you'll need to sign a consent form since you're underage.  I'll also need to contact that mediwitch-Pomfrey is her name? She can provide accurate medical testimony for our case."

Once they had signed the required forms, Erica took their statements, and she also submitted the vials of  memories and Lily's will to the court for evidence.  She reassured them that it was safe, once presented to the court as evidence, it was free from tampering by magic or destruction by non-magical means, since it would be in a sealed vault.  "My opposing council will have access to it for the case, but he can only view it, and not remove it from the vault or do anything else with it. Tampering with evidence is a sure way to get his whole case tossed out the window and land himself in Azkaban, and Damon Priest isn't stupid."

It was then that Kingsley brought up the other matter which had been keeping Harry awake last night.  "Harry, I'm sorry to tell you this, but the Minister has insisted that you be released into my custody for the time being.  Please do not be alarmed, all that means is that you must stay with me at my parents' home for two days, until the trial, and depending on the results, if Severus is named guardian, you may return here."

Harry looked very upset. Even though he liked Kingsley, he didn't know the Auror, and was frightened that if he left the sanctuary of Spinner's End, he would never return to it.  "Do you promise? Because they have to let Severus be my guardian, right? It's what my mum wanted.  He's supposed to be my godfather."

Kingsley nodded and Erica smiled at him.  "Don't worry, Harry. As soon as this mess is settled, you'll be back here quicker than you can say Quidditch."

"Why don't you go up and pack, son?" Tobias suggested gently. He hated the fact that Harry had to leave, but he knew he couldn't win this battle. 

Harry left the table then.  He prayed that they were right, because if not, he didn't know how he would survive. 

HPSSTSHPSS

The next day it was all over the papers, how Unspeakable Snape had "stole" away Harry Potter.  Of course, not everyone believed the hyped up story, plenty of people had seen Snape and Harry in Diagon Alley, and they remarked on how happy Harry had seemed, not at all as if he were being held against his will like the article described.  Harry read it and was incensed, claiming the whole thing was nothing but lies.  "How can anyone believe this trash?" he demanded angrily to Kingsley over breakfast the next morning.  "Severus didn't kidnap me, he rescued me! I was dying because I used too much magic and he found me and saved me!"

"You should relax, Harry.  What you say is true and you can testify to it at the trial." Kingsley said, he felt sorry for the boy, who seemed lost and lonely without Severus and Tobias, though he never complained and was unfailingly polite to him and to his parents, Oliver and  Kioni. 

Harry just nodded politely.  "Have you heard anything about Severus? How he is? I mean, I know it must be awful in there, but they haven't hurt him or anything?"

"Erica went to visit him yesterday, Harry," Kingsley soothed.  "She said he is fine, he was not injured and his magic is still as strong as ever, and he cannot wait to defend himself at the trial.  He is quite determined to beat Gilbert Malfoy at his own game and win the Wizengamut's approval to gain custody."

Harry was glad to hear that at least the Unspeakable wasn't hurt or in any danger.  "Only one more day till the trial," he reminded Kingsley.

"Yes.  Oh, before I forget, make sure you bring your wand with you.  Erica thinks we can use it to expose Gilbert Malfoy for what he truly is."

"How did he explain away his burned hand?"

"It was healed before I saw him again.  But if we can get the Wizengamut to order him to pick up your wand as a test of loyalty to the Light . . ." Kingsley smiled, hard and sharp. 

"Right."

Now all that was left was the waiting.

Harry sat quietly next to Kingsley and Tobias in the large round stone room, upon a rather hard bench. He  tried not to fidget, knowing it would look bad if he did so, but he had a rather large bruise on his backside from falling out of the fireplace two days before.  He hadn't told anyone, he was too embarrassed, but it did make sitting on the hard bench uncomfortable.  Harry was wearing his new school robes and a new outfit, all of which had been bought by the man Gil Malfoy claimed had kidnapped him.  The Celestial Wayfarer was tucked into his pocket.  He rubbed his palms nervously on his knees and waited for them to bring in the accused. 

In front of him, in a crescent shaped array, were the leading members of the Wizengamut, the body of wizards and witches who ruled the wizarding world and had the power to condemn Severus to Azkaban and deny him his rightful place as Harry's guardian.  They were all in black, save for a squat lady wearing bright pink, she reminded him of a cross between Marge and Petunia.  Kingsley had said she was Fudge's Undersecretary, Delores Umbridge.  Harry eyed them warily, not trusting them one iota.

In the middle of the chamber was a chair with several length of silver chain wrapped about the back and the arms, it looked rather like a torture device.  Kingsley had called that the Chair of Judgment, and it was where Severus would be sitting while the barristers questioned him.  Further to the right was a wooden dock where witnesses stood and a high podium where the presiding judge, Aberforth Dumbledore, stood.  Abe was the brother of the late Albus Dumbledore, and though he was considered an eccentric by some, he was from one of the oldest families and had a reputation for being fair-minded and able to see all sides of an issue.  He ran a pub called the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade and while the beer was not the best quality, Abe's ear was always ready to listen and offer advice to those who wanted it.  Since he was not affiliated with any public or political office, he was perfect to judge this case.

 "Bring in the accused," Abe told his deputy, and the wizard in the iron gray robes departed, reappearing at the entrance to the round chamber, prodding a tall man wearing rumpled black robes.  Severus' hands were manacled in front of him, but he walked down the aisle towards the chair in the center without hesitation. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  Then he caught sight of Gilbert Malfoy, who was impeccably dressed, sitting next to Minister Fudge, who was glaring at Severus fit to kill. Next to him sat his solicitor, Damon Priest.

Severus walked over to the chair and sat down gracefully, not even flinching when the chains reached out and bound him.

Suddenly Erica stood up.  "Is that really necessary? The accused is already bound with Manacles of Suppression, he hardly needs the chain on the chair, Your Honor. Might I submit a request to allow Mr. Snape to remain unbound as a courtesy?  He's hardly going to leave."

Aberforth considered.  "Very well. Release him!" he clapped two times and the chains fell away.

First the prosecution rose, and Damon Priest stated the case against Snape, insisting that he had unlawfully removed a minor from his home and held him in his home without informing the Ministry about his new house guest.

"He is therefore charged with kidnapping a Ministry ward, none other than the famous Harry Potter.  He then proceeded to use young Harry in his experiment in the Department of Mysteries, hardly the actions of a responsible adult. Furthermore, Snape has always been fascinated with the Dark Arts-"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Erica stood up and faced her opponent.  "Speculation.  There is no proof that my client was ever a user of dark magic.  He is a Ministry employee and it is well known that employees are strictly screened before their applications for jobs are accepted."

"Sustained.  Mr. Priest, please stick to the facts at hand," Abe reprimanded.  "That statement shall be stricken from the record."

Priest bowed to Aberforth in apology, then resumed his opening statement.  "It is our intention to show that Severus Snape is also an unfit guardian for one Harry Potter, that he seeks only to use the boy for his own advantage, and Harry would be better off as a ward of the Ministry."

Harry shifted, wanting badly to shout that was a bunch of batshit, but Kingsley laid an arm on his shoulder.  Tobias also put a finger to his lips, indicating Harry should hold his tongue. The irritated boy subsided, wondering when he would get the chance to tell his side of the story, the true side.

"Thank you, counselor.  Miss Zabini, your turn."

Erica rose and walked in front of the Wizengamut. She was dressed in a smart skirt and ruffled blouse with a deep blue robe.  "Lords and ladies of the Wizengamut, it is my intent to show you that Severus Snape, Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, has been wrongfully accused of kidnapping Harry Potter and using him as an experimental guinea pig.  Severus Snape has legal grounds to present a case for guardianship and also has the welfare of this boy, whom we all regard as a savior, at heart.  He is the best, perhaps the only, guardian for young Harry, and I shall show you why this is so."

Erica stopped, turned, and then made her way back to where Severus was sitting in the chair.  "Mr. Snape, will you state for the record how you knew that Harry Potter was being neglected and was in fact in danger of losing his life through magical drain?"

"I have inherited the gift of Second Sight from my Prince ancestors, and my Sight warns of impending tragedy, which I can sometimes avert if I can interpret my dreams correctly and in a timely fashion.  I had been having the same vision for two nights prior to the day I acted and went to Privet Drive.  This vision was particularly vivid, for not only was I shown Harry, trapped in a cupboard, but I could both feel and see what he saw and felt.  After the second time the vision was shown to me, I knew I had to act, but was at a loss where to start, as the vision did not give me a map showing where the boy was.  However, the next morning on my way to work, an owl dropped a letter and I picked it up.  It was a Hogwarts letter, addressed to Harry Potter, the Cupboard Under the Stairs . . ."

Gasps followed that statement. 

"That's a rather odd address, don't you think?" Erica asked.  "Surely one that should make one pause and think.  Which is exactly what Mr. Snape did.  He read the address, recognized it as a connection to his vision, and then acted upon it.  As a Seer, he has the right to follow up any vision if he deems it necessary.  Which this certainly was. Mr. Snape, can you describe what you found upon going to Privet Drive, the home of Harry's maternal aunt and uncle, who were chosen as guardians upon the death of his parents?"

Severus told them everything, stressing that Harry's magic had hidden him from the Death Eaters, but also that he would have died from the poor treatment he had received at the hands of his relatives, as well as from overusing his magic.

"My first priority was saving Harry's life and getting him well.  Once that was accomplished, I had every intention of coming forward and requesting permission to become the boy's legal guardian." Severus told them.

Damon came forward.  "And did this care also include using Mr. Potter as a volunteer to test your new Memory Draught?"

"Originally, it was never my intention to have Harry test my potion, but he asked because he suffered from nightmares, and wished to banish them by recalling the memories which caused them."

"And did you seek permission from your Head to bring a minor into the study?"

"No, but I did have him sign a consent form and he was monitored at all times by me."

"And these memories you say you extracted . . . what were they? Typical little boy fears of the dark? Spiders? A spanking, perhaps?" Damon was very sarcastic, sneering, and some of the Wizengamut tittered at his wit.

"No, they were memories that no child should ever have within them," declared Severus coldly, longing to get up from the chair and bash the smug grin off Gil's face.  "Memories of seeing his mother slain by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  Memories of being locked in the dark in a broom cupboard for days without food, water, or a place to relieve himself."

There were more shocked murmurs from the wizards and witches across from Harry.

"Your Honor, Harry's memories were submitted as evidence labeled Exhibit A," Erica informed Aberforth.  "They are available to be viewed with the Pensieve in your quarters."

"Your Honor, I move that those memories be declared inadmissible due to the fact that they were extracted without consent of an adult." Damon stated.

"Your Honor, there is no law that states a volunteer has to be an adult to consent to try a Memory Regression potion." Erica countered.  "The potion had already been tested upon the required number of adults and minors and was ready for public consumption.  The patent was pending, but even so, consent was recorded and freely given."

Aberforth was silent for several minutes, and Priest looked like he was gloating.  But then the younger Dumbledore said, "The evidence will stand.  The law states that free consent is all that is needed to participate in a study."

"But how do we know consent was freely given?" queried Damon.  "The young Potter might have been coerced by his kidnapper."

"You may question Mr. Potter about that, Mr. Priest. Do you have any further questions for Mr. Snape?"

"No, Your Honor.  I now call Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy to the stand. Mr. Malfoy was the one who alerted us to Mr. Snape's grave breach of misconduct and will testify to the character of said defendant as to his suitability to raise a child."

Gilbert Malfoy walked haughtily to the stand and was sworn in. 

Priest began to question Gil about how he had learned of the kidnapping, and also how well he knew the accused.  "I was his stepfather, I had married his mother, Eileen Prince, when he was four.  He lived with me until he was ten and upon the demise of his mother I sent him back to his Muggle father.  He was a most ungovernable child, disobedient, temperamental, and totally lacking in manners and discipline."

"I see. Would you say that as an adult, Severus Snape still possesses those characteristics?"

"Objection! Leading the witness.  Mr. Malfoy cannot claim to know the adult Severus Snape as he has not communicated with him in over twenty years." Erica pointed out. 

"Is that so, Mr. Malfoy?" queried Aberforth.

"Yes, Your Honor. We parted ways and I had no desire to see the wretched brat again."

"Then how would you know what sort of man Severus Snape had become?" Erica asked.  "People change and grow up, Mr. Malfoy.  Let me ask you a question, sir.  You pointed out that your stepson was disobedient and disrespectful.  How did you punish your stepson when he defied you?"

"The usual way, of course," drawled Malfoy.

"And what way would that be?"

"I thrashed him, of course. It's the only sort of lesson a half-blood like him understands."

"I see. And, from your statement, I can presume that you do not . . . respect half-bloods? Are you prejudiced, Mr. Malfoy? Do you believe that half-bloods are beneath you?"

"Do you honestly expect me to answer that?" Gil sneered.

"You are under oath, Mr. Malfoy," Erica snapped. "And you will show respect for me, as legal counsel, even though I too am a half-blood, or else I shall press charges."

"Very well, Miss Zabini.  As a pureblood descendant of the noble House of Rothschild and adopted son of the honorable House of Malfoy, I am committed to seeing that my bloodline stays pure and unsullied by mongrel half-breeds like Severus Snape.  I never wanted the brat in my house, but was forced to take him in as a favor to his mother."

"Then you admit that you had bias towards Severus Snape when you brought him into your home? And that you still harbor feelings of resentment and superiority towards him?"

Gil hesitated.  "If by that you mean was I reluctant to accept an unruly hellion into my home, then yes.  I would have preferred to start my marriage unencumbered by another man's offspring."

"Counselor, where is this line of questioning going? Gilbert Malfoy is not on trial here," said Damon.

"This line of questioning establishes the bias and credibility of your witness to give an accurate and unbiased assessment of my client's character.  Clearly, Mr. Malfoy harbors no love for his former stepson and his bias might have cast aspersions on Severus Snape's character that are unjust. No further questions."

Erica then called Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tobias and Madam Pomfrey to the stand to vouch for Severus. Madam Pomfrey told them of Harry's malnutrition and needle phobia, and stated she suspected he had been neglected and abused by his dead relatives. She stressed how Severus had been compassionate with Harry over his fear of needles, and was concerned over the boy's physical and mental health. Tobias' story of how Harry had come to live with the Snapes corroborated what Severus had said and he also stated that Gilbert Malfoy had been abusive to his son as a child and his testimony was worthless. 

Finally she called Harry to the stand and asked him to tell the court, in his own words, what his life had been like with his relatives and how it had changed since Severus had taken him away from Privet Drive. Harry spoke in a quiet yet firm voice, looking the judge and the Wizengamut right in the eyes.  "You all know about how I killed You-Know-Who as a baby, I didn't remember what happened until Severus let me take the potion that brought that memory up so I could look at it.  I never knew my mum, but she was Severus' best friend.  She also wanted him as my godfather, but my dad didn't, and chose Sirius Black instead.  But my mum wanted Severus as a second choice and she altered her will to make him my guardian if she and my dad and Mr. Black died.  I wasn't supposed to ever go and live with the Dursleys. See, Mum knew her sister hated magic and wizards and wouldn't have wanted me.  But her new will was misplaced, and Severus only found it a few days ago, in the back of a drawer in the Department of Mysteries. 

"So I ended up with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley, and they . . . they didn't treat me well.  They lied to me about how my parents died and told me magic didn't exist. I wasn't allowed to even mention the word around them. Whenever I did magic by accident, they punished me and told me I was a no-good freak."

"How did they punish you, Harry?" asked Erica gently.

"They . . . sometimes they would make me clean the whole house, but most times they threw me in the cupboard for a few days. Sometimes, like the time I accidentally ended up on the school roof, Uncle Vernon would wallop me with his belt.  He . . .he told me I deserved it for being a freak.  One time Aunt Petunia swung a frying pan at my head when I asked her about my mum as a kid.  They never wanted to talk about my parents.  They told the neighbors I was a liar and I stole and was a delinquent so nobody would believe me if I ever told about what they did to me or mentioned anything about magic."

"Harry, did your aunt or uncle ever hug you? Ever tell you they loved you?"

"No.  Why would they love a freak? They had Dudley to love. I was just in the way."

Erica questioned him about the Death Eater attack.  Harry told her as much as he could remember.  Then she asked him about Severus and how he was treated at Spinner's End. 

"He treated me like I mattered. Like I was worth something. Him and Toby both.  No one has ever done that for me before.  He saved me, I would have died if he hadn't come and gotten me out of the cupboard.  He didn't kidnap me, he rescued me.  And then he gave me a room of my own, not a cupboard, and clothes, not Dudley's cast offs, and he even let me eat at the table, real food, not scraps dug out of the rubbish bin.  He let me used the good soap in the shower, not the floor cleaner. He took me to the Healer's, he helped me when I had nightmares, he even took me to see my parents' graves.  He taught me how to fly on a broom. He never hit me or called me a freak that was too stupid to live. Not even when I talked back him  or was a cheeky brat."

"So you think that Severus Snape is a good person?"

"Yes."

"And if you had to choose someone to live with, would you choose Severus Snape?"

"Yes.  I . . .I trust him.  He's not like the rest of you people, who look at me and see some kind of hero.  He sees me.  Just Harry.  He didn't need to do all those things for me, he could have done what you say he ought to, and given me over to the Ministry.  But he didn't.  He promised my mum he would look after me, and he kept his word.  He's worth ten of that prig over there and the lot of you!"  Harry declared passionately.  "He even paid for my school things, including my wand. Oh, and that Malfoy wizard, when he came to take me away, he tried to pick up my wand and it burned him."

"Harry, will you tell the court what wand chose you?" Erica prompted when the muttering had died down.

Harry withdrew the wand from his sleeve.  "This is the Celestial Wayfarer, at least that's what Mr. Ollivander called it."

Now the room exploded in shocked whispers.

"He told me that my wand will never tolerate the touch of evil.  So since it burned Mr. Malfoy there, doesn't that make him evil?" Harry asked ingenuously.

"That's a damn lie!" spat Gil, glaring daggers at Harry.  "You put the boy up to this, Zabini!"

"Me? All I did was ask him about his wand."

"You're trying to defame my honorable Name, you harpy!"

"Mr. Malfoy, control yourself!" Aberforth said.

Gil subsided, breathing heavily.

"Your Honor, I submit that Gilbert Malfoy is a fraud and a liar, as well as a dark wizard.  On the night that he came to arrest my client and take Harry away, he revealed his true colors.  He is a Metamorphmagus who disguised himself as Augustus Rookwood, Head of the Department of Mysteries, in order to gain access to the vault where Severus and Harry were.  He admitted freely to Severus that he murdered Rookwood, Augustus did not die by accident during an explosion as was thought-he was set up. Furthermore, it's also suspected that he had Sirius Black killed as well. His intention was to murder Severus and then take custody of Harry for his true master . . .He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Erica declared.

"That's a filthy lie, hag!"

"Is it? I call for Trial By Ordeal.  If what I have said is false and you are innocent as you claim, then you won't mind picking up the Celestial Wayfarer, now will you?"

Malfoy blanched.  "You can't do this! I'm not on trial, my bloody stepson is!"

Erica met his eyes coldly.  "Based on the evidence I have heard, you may well find yourself in a cell in Azkaban should Mr. Snape press charges of assault against you.  For crimes both past and present.  It's a simple request, Malfoy.  Why do you hesitate? What do you have to hide?"

Malfoy looked about, his air that of a desperate animal caught in a trap.  "Nothing! I have nothing to hide!"

"Then, Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy, take up the Celestial Wayfarer and let the Light of the Heavens judge you," intoned Aberforth. 

Trapped, Gil approached and hesitantly touched the wand. 

As before, there came a flash of blue light and Gil found himself clutching his hand, which was burnt and blackened.  He drew his wand and pointed it at Harry.  "Pestilential brat!" he roared.  "Nobody move, or your precious Boy-Who-Lived is history!"

Everyone froze, including Kingsley and the team of Aurors standing just inside the doors. 

Everyone except Tobias, who had had the foresight to bring his revolver, figuring things might get ugly and he would need to defend himself or his family.

He drew in one quick motion, his gun arm hidden by Kingsley's cloak. Then he moved, extending his gun an inch beyond the big Auror and firing. 

 There was no real sound for Tobias had been a Black Ops sergeant and had a silencer on his gun.  But  he hit his target. 

Gilbert Rothschild-Malfoy dropped dead on the floor in front of Harry,  drilled neatly through the head. 

"Waste of a good bullet," Tobias spat.

For one moment there was utter silence.  Then one of the witches said, "What on earth did you hit him with, sir? Is he dead?"

"Yes, ma'am. Dead as a doornail. Not many people survive a direct bullet to the head." Tobias replied.  "He's been needing that ever since he hurt my son.  I held my hand then because of Eileen, but not any more.  Sorry if I stepped on anybody's toes, but it was him or Harry."

Kingsley stood up then and began to clap. Slowly the other witches and wizards followed suit.

Harry remained where he was for a moment, unsure of what to do. He grabbed his wand and tucked it up his sleeve. Then he ran across the room and hugged Severus. 

When all the uproar had died down, that was where they found him, pressed close to Severus, who couldn't hug him back because of the manacles.

"Order! Order in the court!" Aberforth said, banging his gavel.  "Umm . . .Mad-Eye, get that piece of trash out of my courtroom."

The Auror and his team hustled to obey. 

Aberforth grinned.  "I've always wanted to do that," he muttered half to himself.  "Ahem! I'll call for a recess so we can . . .err . . .decide on a verdict. It shouldn't take too long. Oh, and thanks, Mr. Snape.  It's too bad you don't have magic, then we could recruit you."

He winked, then disappeared into the jury chambers, where they would decide Severus' fate.

Some thirty minutes later the Wizengamut emerged, and Aberforth stepped up to the bench.  "Severus Tobias Snape, the jury declares you Not Guilty of all charges.  Furthermore, based upon the last will and testament of Lily Evans Potter and the preference of Harry James Potter, the jury has agreed to grant you full legal custody of Harry James Potter and all his assets until he comes of age. Case dismissed!" He happily banged the gavel down again.  "I wonder if they'll let me keep this? It'll look nice above the bar." he muttered wistfully.  Then he pointed his wand and the Manacles of Suppression fell off Severus' wrists.

Everyone was clapping and cheering, but Severus had eyes only for one small dark-haired boy.  He hugged Harry tightly and whispered, "Well done, my son.  And now we can go home to Spinner's End.  Where we belong."

Harry gripped him hard about the waist, his emerald eyes glinting with tears.  Tears that he did not bother to wipe away, for he was too happy to notice them.  At last he had what he had dreamed of all those lonely nights in the cupboard.  A home and a person he could trust, who would love him no matter what.  "Okay, Sev.  Let's go home."

And so they did.

The next morning an article ran in the Prophet about the trial and also another matter that had finally been resolved.  Sirius Black Declared Innocent, Pettigrew Responsible for Potters' Deaths! Treachery Revealed At Last Due to Snape's Memory Regression Potion!

It detailed how Harry had recalled a final conversation between Lily, James, and Sirius deciding to make Pettigrew their Secret Keeper, and how Sirius had not betrayed them.  Aurors were scouring the countryside, searching for the fugitive rat, and hoped to bring him in soon. A reward of 1000 Galleons was posted for anyone who knew his whereabouts or might have seen him. 

"Hope they catch the miserable rat," Tobias muttered over his second cup of coffee. 

"They will.  Or else he'll remain a rat to the end of his days, and save us the trouble of bringing him to trial." Severus said, drinking his tea.

"I hope a cat eats him for breakfast," Harry said.  "Speaking of cats, can I have a cat for my birthday? Or an owl, maybe?" He gave Severus a pleading glance.

"We'll see.  Right now you need to practice brewing a Swelling Solution."

"Aww, Sev! Do I have to? Can't I go flying first?"

Severus frowned down at him.  "Harry James Potter, you know that potions come before flying. Or you should."

"I know," Harry said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  "If I finish early, then can I go flying?"

Severus sighed.  "We'll see."

Harry smiled.  He knew that Severus' "we'll see" was as good as a "yes".  Then he followed his new guardian over to the fireplace, so they could Floo to Severus' lab.  Since the trial, Harry had been given a button to wear that gave him access to the Department of Mysteries so long as Severus was with him.  He was currently the youngest Unspeakable on record, though the title was honorary, at least until he came of age, and his guardian, who was now Head of the Department, inducted him formally into their ranks.

Harry considered it an honor to follow in the footsteps of Severus Snape, the Unspeakable who had given him everything he had ever wanted and more.

SSHPSSTSHP

The night before first term:

"Are you certain you have everything?" Severus asked Harry for maybe the thirtieth time that night, checklist in hand.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Sev, we've already gone over this three times! I'm fine. I have everything I need or want and if I need anything, I'll write you." He showed Severus his neat packed trunk, with everything neatly arranged. 

Severus peered inside, then nodded briefly.  "All right.  If you've forgotten something, write as quickly as possible and I will send it to you.  If you have trouble with a subject, ask a teacher for help.  Don't wait till the end of term and then find out you're failing. I expect you to do well in school, Harry. Concentrate on your studies, then go flying on your broom if you need to."

"Yes, sir.  What about Quidditch?"

Severus grimaced.  "First years aren't allowed to have brooms at school or try out for the Quidditch team.  After homework you can fly."

"How without my broom?"

"The school provides brooms.

"Oh.  Severus, what House will I be in? Do you care?"

"You're Sorted by the Sorting Hat, and the Hat will determine what House is best.  Whatever House chooses you is fine with me.  You do not have to be in Slytherin or Gryffindor to make me proud."

 Harry was relieved. That had been one of the things that had concerned him. That and making friends at school, but he wasn't going to whine to his guardian about that, like a little girl.

"If you need anything, you will Floo or write me immediately," Severus ordered. "And I do mean anything, Harry."

Harry snickered. "Relax, Severus. You're being a worrywart."

Severus snorted and mussed his ward's hair.  "Cheeky brat!"

"You like me that way," answered his ward with a smirk.

"You had better not get in trouble at school, young man." Severus lectured. 

"I'll try not to.  I don't wanna be grounded and without a broom over the holiday." Harry promised.

"Good. Study hard, get good marks, and don't backtalk your teachers.  That's all I ask of you."

"I can do that," Harry assured him.

"Off to bed with you now.  It's late and you need to get an early start tomorrow."

Harry headed off to brush his teeth and change, though he was so excited he thought he would never   fall asleep. But he was asleep before Severus said goodnight.

The Unspeakable brushed a hand over his ward's hair.  Then he left, going downstairs to talk to Tobias.

His father looked up from the Daily Prophet he'd been reading.  "Sev, have you read about Fudge resigning? He says he cannot in good conscience retain his post after making major mistakes with trusting corrupt officials and failing Harry Potter by not checking up on him."

Severus' eyebrows rose.  "I told you, Dad, he would resign. Too much bad press and muttering.  Did they say who would replace him?"

"No.  Not yet."

"Hopefully they choose someone with brains this time," Severus said wryly.  He sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair over and over. 

Tobias recognized the signs and said, "Got the jitters over Harry going away to school, huh?"

"No. . . .I mean yes . . . I don't know what's wrong with me.  He's not the first boy to leave home and go away to school."

"Ah, but he's your first."

Severus shook his head.  "I'm acting like a fool.  He's very excited to go, talked about nothing else tonight."

"And that makes you feel bad."

"No, not bad, just . . . concerned.  I told him he didn't have to go, that I could tutor him, but . . .he wants to.  I just hope his schooldays are different from mine."

"No reason to think they won't be.  Sev, he's not you, and there's no Marauders, and no dark wizard to fight.  Besides, we've both taught him what to do about bullies.  He's smart, he'll follow our advice.   I know it's hard, Sev.  I was nervous as all hell when you were going away to Hogwarts at first.  I felt like I was going to turn inside out.  But you have to let him go, Sev.  It's been a month and half since we took him in, and he's adjusted well.  It's time to let him go."

"What if it's a mistake, sending him there?"

"Then we withdraw him. Simple as that. There's no law that says you can't tutor Harry at home, right?"

"Right." Severus scowled into the fire. "I can't believe I'm acting like this."

Tobias laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Ah, Sev. Welcome to fatherhood." He clapped his son on the back.  "It's the province of every parent to worry when their kid leaves home."

"Does it ever go away?"

"No.  I still worry a little about you, Sev. But it does get a little easier. Trust me."     

  Severus huffed a bit, thinking that if this was how he felt when Harry went to Hogwarts, how much worse would it be when Harry moved out and got married? By then he might need a Calming Draught.  Get a grip, Snape! He shouted inwardly. But it was no use.  He was going to miss Harry something terrible.

September 1st, 1991

Hogwarts School:

"Harry Potter!" McGonagall called.

Harry set down his carrier with his large orange and black tom cat, Jack-o-lantern, which had been a birthday present from Tobias, and the cage with his new Arctic owl, Sheherezad, "Sherry" for short, his gift from Severus and walked over to where the Sorting Hat sat upon the stool.  He knew what to expect, for Severus had told him about the Hat, but not where the Hat would put him.  Would he be a Gryffindor, like his parents, full of courage and daring? Or would he be like his guardian and godfather, ambitious and cunning, like a Slytherin?

He walked up and lifted the Hat gently, sat down on the stool, and placed the Hat on his head.  It was too large and the brim covered his eyes.  Then he waited for the Hat to speak.

Well, now let's see.

There's plenty of courage in your family tree,

But courage isn' t your only forte.

You have ambition and cunning too,

Perhaps the House of your guardian suits you?

Hmmm . . .you pose a difficult puzzle,

Smart, ambitious, and courageous,

But your heart is pure, your spirit kind,

Loyalty and love the ties that bind.

Like the Celestial Wayfarer I find,

The House that suits you best,

Loyal and true, hardworking yet tough

Better be . . .

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry removed the Hat from his head amid several shocked looks and after retrieving his two familiars, walked over to the table sporting the yellow and black badger banner above it.  He had to admit, he was surprised at the Hat's choice, but the more he thought about it, the more right it seemed.  While he could be brave and valiant, and he wanted to do well and make Severus proud, the things he valued most were the love of his family and his loyalty to his guardian. 

He took a seat next to a girl named Hannah Abbott, said hello, then shook hands with his prefect, and introduced himself to a boy named Justin and another one called Cedric. They were all happy to meet him and he started to relax, then turned to watch the rest of the Sorting.  He couldn't wait to tell Sev and Toby about his new House.  He couldn't wait for the school year to start, it was sure to be one he would never forget.