"Slytherin!"

It had been a little over three months since the Sorting hat had bellowed the word from atop Harry Potter's head, yet every time Severus Snape dark eyes happened to flicker over the small, green-eyed child the word would reverberate within his head like the bells of the old Town'd Church. He wasn't sure just why he couldn't wrap his head around it, but the fact that Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin made his head spin.

The child was small, quiet, and rather well behaved, once pointed in the right direction. The source of the pointing was another matter entirely. That Draco Malfoy had become the friend of James Potter's only child was a point of contention for him. Draco was supposed to be his. Severus had spent an entire week brooding about the messy haired nuisance from his youth yet again stealing what was his, until Draco had quietly pointed out that Harry's name was Harry and not James, and perhaps Severus needed a Draught of Clarity or two.

Severus grimaced at the memory. Bad enough that he had slipped so far as to speak aloud of his most personal thoughts, but to be overheard, by his godson... He had come to the rather logical conclusion that Harry was not James, as much as the man was his father. That Harry had known James for less than two years of his life did not cross his mind for another week. By then, he had become used to seeing the head of messy hair seated amongst his other snakes at the Slytherin table, and could ignore the far-too-small body trotting behind his godson like a lost puppy. Or pretend he could. Still, that hadn't made his life any easier.

He strode down the hallways, his robes billowing like black clouds, intent on checking in on his snakes. The Hogwarts Express boarded tomorrow morning, and all but four of his scaly charges would head home for the Christmas holidays. Usually, Christmas with his Slytherins was a rather sedate affair. Presents would be opened in the morning in the common room, followed by breakfast. After breakfast students would mostly dress for a day in the snow, and head outside to lay waste to each other. Severus would sequester himself in his chambers until dinner, where he would lead his snakes according to the Headmaster's sugared demands. After dinner he would be attacked by children filled with too many sweets, and would be tortured for hours on end with ridiculous anecdotes of silly things they had done that day, or worse, forced to tell a story of his own. The evening would continue with him being plied with sweets, subjected to hours of awful Christmas carols and then Imperiused, by the light of hopeful, pleading eyes, into singing one himself. He wasn't sure how he would handle his group this year, small as it was. Plus, Harry Potter staying over the break put a wrench in his wheels.

"Solitas," the password gained him entrance to the Slytherin common room, where the first thing he saw was Draco Malfoy bent over a few feet of parchment, occasionally murmuring into the ear of the other first year that seemed to take up most of his thoughts. Severus stood in the shadowed alcove, watching and pondering. Potter's face was open and curious, a small smile perched crookedly in the corner of a cheek. Severus had not seen this expression on the child's face since before the start of that disastrous first Potions lesson. Potter had sat there, quill, ink and parchment laid out before him, alert and eager to learn. Severus had only seen a mini-James Potter, however, and had attacked in the only way he deemed appropriate. After humiliating the boy, Potter's magic had slipped, the glamour covering his scrawny frame had fallen for the briefest of moments, and the boy had panicked. Severus had the briefest glimpse of a black eye and other bruises littering the child's neck and face before it became essential to calm Potter down. He could not risk an explosion due to the child's accidental magic. Wild magic and potions ingredients did not a safe classroom make.

Since then, the boy had done his best to avoid him. Potter kept his eyes downcast. Whenever Severus was near, Potter ducked into alternate corridors and empty classrooms and if they happened to traverse the same hallway, the boy spoke only when spoken to and gave only the briefest of answers. Severus tried to get the child to open up to him, offering compliments and a listening ear any time the child may need it, but he was not a demonstrative man. His only reward had been silent trembling and wide eyes fastened on anywhere but his person. There had been an uncomfortable movement in the vicinity of his chest when he realized the boy was frightened of him, but he had squashed it ruthlessly. What did he care if the Potter boy was afraid of him? All the better to keep him in line, right?

But contrary to Severus' initial belief, Potter was not in need of discipline. The only trouble Potter seemed capable of was with the unspoken Slytherin dress code, and that had been easily remedied. At breakfast on the first morning of lessons Potter had shown up to the Slytherin table messily dressed and breathless. Severus had motioned for a prefect as he composed the most humiliating message possible through his foggy brain before his morning cup of tea, but before the prefect had made it halfway to the head table, however, Draco had dragged Potter out by the collar. They had both been late to their first lesson, though Draco had somehow managed to get them excused, but Harry, no Potter had been groomed and dressed to look like a proper young gentleman. There had been no other problems with the boy since then, as he had attached himself to Draco like a limpet and his godson would rather face a den of hungry dragons than anger him.

Thoughts of Draco reminded him of the letter from the boy's mother waiting on his coffee table, and so he headed out of his alcove, hoping to make this visit short. His students took note of him immediately, though he suspected Willerby had seen him enter. Sheets of parchment were hastily stuffed into bags of hidden under books as he passed. He paid the nervous students no mind, save to inquire of his in-house leaders if all leaving students were packed and ready to go. The fourteen students all reported to the affirmative, and Severus was free to lose himself amongst his charges.

Half an hour later, Severus was equal parts confused and irritated. Draco had been informed by his parents that he would be staying with him over Christmas break. He supposed if he had read Narcissa's letter earlier he would not have been caught off guard. Still, he did not like the formal way the boy had spoken of it. He had always known that Draco was more affectionate with him than with his own parents. Indeed, he had encouraged it after witnessing Lucius' cold demeanor with the boy. However, Draco had seemed...different...stiff. He couldn't discern the reason, either, but hopefully Lady Malfoy's letter would clear some of the confusion in his mind.

Severus' feet beat rhythmically down the hallway as his thoughts strayed, once again, to the son of his onetime best friend. Harry had been his usually reserved self, as expected. However, when asked about his decision to remain at school for break, the child's face had lit up like a candle.

"I can have a Christmas here, sir!" the child had chirped. "My relatives won't care at all!"

The boy hadn't noticed anything odd with his statement, and blathered on to Severus for a full minute before regaining his senses. Severus had watched the child blush, then gather his things and scamper to the first year dorm.

The cool dungeon gave him gooseflesh, but Severus paid the chill no mind. There was a puzzle to be solved here, one that he was determined to unravel before break ended. He swept quickly back to his dungeon quarters, intent on figuring out the Malfoy dilemma first.

Draco watched his godfather leave through the portrait hole. He snatched up his parchment and quill then dashed after his younger friend. Potter had an odd fear of Professor Snape, something Draco couldn't quite understand. Sure he knew Harry's uncle was a right prat and made him do lots of chores. Draco also knew that sometimes Harry's uncle didn't feed him and locked him out in the back garden when he didn't want Harry around. And that sometimes he hit Harry with his fist or belt if his friend's magic slipped, but Draco's Uncle Severus wasn't anything like that.

He shouldered the door to the dorm open, and found the room empty. Instead of being put out, Draco heaved a silent sigh, dumped his things on his bed then crouched next to Harry's. Wide green eyes peered out at him from behind smudged glasses partially obscured by Harry's messy hair. Draco sighed again, then wiggled under the bed, careful to press his side against the other boy's. He'd discovered early into the term that neutral physical contact had a calming effect on Harry, for reasons Draco didn't pretend to understand.

"He's alright, Harry," Draco murmured into the silence after a few minutes.

Harry didn't answer right away. He fingered the cuff of his sleeve for a minute, before tracing the outline of a slab of stone that made up the dungeon floor. Finally, after what seemed to be years to Draco, though he had quickly learned that keeping quiet was the best way to gain information from his smaller friend, Harry spoke. "He saw my face."

Draco dearly wanted to roll his eyes. If they had had this conversation once... "Maybe he did. But he can't be sure until you tell him." Harry's fingers picked at the stone beneath him. "Even if he thinks he saw - "

"I know he saw."

Draco was quiet for a moment. This was the first time Harry had ever interrupted him, or used anything other than a mild tone of speech. He considered his friend carefully. Harry's hair was messier than usual, something he suspected he should have noticed before now, but explaining the finer points of dinner etiquette had driven most everything from his mind. His eyes also looked different...sharper...warier than they were a week ago. A drop of pudding served at dinner decorated Harry's collar, and Draco noticed Harry's absentminded picking at the stone had a nearly frantic beat to it. Maybe the boy had finally reached his breaking point?

"You know he saw it, but he may not be sure," Draco said carefully. "He can't be sure until you tell him."

He didn't have to wait long for Harry's reply. "I don't know if I can." It was barely a whisper, but Draco heard it anyway. He wanted to frown, but Harry had an uncanny way of reading his facial expressions even when he wasn't looking at his face. Frowning was always, always interpreted as anger, and he did not need the added hassle of assuring his friend that he wasn't angry with him. The muggles who did this to his friend deserved nothing less than a face full of Dementor. Through his anger, Draco formed a plan, though one that only had a less than full chance of working. It all depended on if his godfather was the man Draco always thought he was.

"I might have a way."

Hopeful green eyes turned to face him, and Draco's stomach gave an uncomfortable twist. Oh, he hoped this worked.

Some time later, the flickering light from his fireplace glittered off the textured sides of the glass in his hand. Severus Snape did not often indulge in alcohol, a hold-over from life at his father's mercy, but tonight, and all it's revelations, called for something a bit stronger than tea.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had formally handed their son over to the care of his godfather. The Ministry form had been signed by both parents, and witnessed by the entire Wizenmagot save the Head, one Albus Dumbledore. Not that Severus cared about all the formalities. Draco had always been his. The emotional damage this would cause his child, though, he would rather avoid. Severus himself carried much emotional baggage; an emotionally wounded child would hardly find healing in him.

Not that he would turn the boy away. No, Severus would do his best, as he always had, and hope it was enough.

The other reason for the drink in his hand was the conclusion he had come to about the Potter boy. He didn't need to be a genius to see that the boy's relative's mistreated him. Severus was mildly ashamed that it had taken him three months to take a deeper look at the boy's behaviour and connect the dots. Of course, he saw over some eighty other students in his house, let alone most of the school in his capacity as Potions Professor. Still, it was hardly an excuse, in his mind. The child had practically been screaming "Help me!" with his actions all year. If the bruises were any indication, it was much worse than any of the cases he had come across in his tenure. Something would have to be done about it, he knew. But Severus was reluctant to get involved. Anything concerning the Boy-Who-Lived turned into a media frenzy. He couldn't tell how many times he had seen reporters lurking around the school's gates, despite the fact that said gates were nearly half a mile away from the school proper, and that they would never be allowed on campus while Albus far-too-many-middle-names Dumbledore was head.

Severus took another sip, savouring the slight burn the liquid caused as it passed down his throat. What else could he do? Hand it over to Poppy? Certainly not. The woman had never taken care of his snakes the way she did the rest of the school, and famous child wonder or not, Severus didn't believe her petty disposition would evaporate if he brought this to her attention. If he took it to Albus, the Dursely's would be dragged through the courts, Wizarding and Muggle, and if Albus had to move heaven and earth to get a conviction, he would.

But Severus didn't want just a conviction. Spawn of James Potter or not, no child deserved to be abused. No, the punishment he had in mind was a bit more... insidious.

But first, he had to get the boy to admit something was wrong. If he knew anything at all about child psychology, which wasn't much, Severus knew that Harry, no...Potter would deny anything he came up with. Severus growled, and set his glass down with a snap. Sometimes he regretted his reputation.

But there was a way to get the boy to open up. Severus' nose wrinkled at the thought of willingly associating with the man, but this was more important than his personal comfort. Remus Lupin had accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position, and had been spending copious amounts of time with the boy wonder, if some students' grumblings were to be believed. Of course, his gut told him that if the werewolf knew anything he'd have said something about it a long time ago, but Severus was reluctant to believe one of his snakes would confide in anyone but him, fear or not.

Severus was out of his chair and out into the corridor before he even realized it. His teaching robes had been forgotten on their hook by the door, and the hallway was thick with biting cold. He conjured a robe and had to cast three warming charms before he reached ground level. So intent was he on his thoughts and destination, Severus didn't even check the corridors for students sneaking about the castle.

He reached Lupin's rooms far too quickly for his tastes. Lupin had been tolerable for most of the term. His usual mild demeanor had acquired a bit of sarcasm, much to Severus' initial shock, and the potions professor had taken pains to speak to the man as little as possible. Well, there went that plan. He tapped smartly on the door, drawing his Occlumency shields around him like armour. He would not be distracted from his mission. He would not.

Lupin opened the door, still clad in one of those ridiculous Muggle suits he insisted wearing. Severus sneered, out of habit, and stalked in.

Lupin blinked. "Good evening, Severus," he said to the empty doorway. "Come in, won't you? It's dreadfully cold in these hallways." He offered the empty air a smile that did not meet his eyes and shut the door, making a fuss over showing the imaginary person to a seat. "Tea?" he offered to the dour man glaring balefully at him. "Coffee? A shot of manners children usually learn between the ages of three and seven but which you surely neglected to commit to memory?"

Severus' glare intensified, and he cast his gaze around the room. Shabby, well used furniture was arranged in a manner that would have suggested hominess if Severus were in a kinder mood, and every flat surface was covered in books of all sizes. Some spare bits of parchment protruded here and there, some covered with inky scribbles or moving pictures, and the only bare bit of floor was immediately in front of the entrance door. Every other inch of floor sported carpet that made Hagrid's beard look like cotton fluffs, and still there were more books. "I'm surprised you own enough to sustain yourself, wolf, let alone offer to others," Severus sneered.

Remus smiled at him. "Yes, well, it's all the product of friends who thought I was worth something." Lupin 'hmm'ed and offered the other man with an amused look. "Have you any, Severus?" Remus' smile widened as Severus' face paled in anger. "Now, now," the man laughed. "Be nice, or I won't give you your Christmas gift."

It was a minute before Severus regained control over his mouth. "I would rather scrub my eyes with bubotuber puss!"

Remus chuckled as he levitated the tea tray over. "Come, now Severus," he said, heedless to the other man's purplish face. "What are we, an old married couple? Don't you think all this name calling is a bit juvenile?" Severus watched as he served tea, pushing the filled cup towards him calmly. He wanted to rip the man's head off. Or watch a dragon do it. Remus somehow had learned to be as infuriating as both Potter and Black had been, but with his trademark niceness it was hard to handle. He scowled, and snatched up his tea, shooting murder at Lupin with his eyes all the while. For the sake of his sanity, Severus decided that he'd jump straight to the point.

"What do you know about Potter's home life?" he snapped.

Remus' smile faltered but for a minute, but Severus felt an inexplicable burst of satisfaction. He sipped his tea contentedly, feeling as if he were regaining his feet.

"My, Severus, don't tell me you've found a puzzle you can't pull apart now." Remus sipped is tea, grimaced, then leaned forward to add a disgusting amount of sugar to his cup. "You have no clues at all?"

That was a rather Slytherin answer, Severus considered. He gazed steadily at the afflicted man across from him, and frowned. This was not going the way he expected. "During the first potions lesson of the year the glamor Potter was wearing slipped for the briefest of moments, and I saw a slightly fresh black eye, and bruises on his skin." He drank a bit of his tea, watching the expressionless face of his old classmate. "I have been unable to speak with him about this, however, and I have it on good authority that he's been spending a rather large amount of his free time with you."

Remus' small smile never wavered. "That's right, he has been. Harry's a remarkably smart child, Severus, incredibly gifted. We've been working on a few advanced spells, since practical assignments prove no challenge to him." A glint of something appeared in Remus' normally kind eyes, and Severus felt his spine stiffen involuntarily. "Though, a brilliant man like yourself has surely seen that. Especially with him being so much like Lily." He paused, sipping his tea, then seemed to remember something. "But that's right, isn't it? You can't see anything but James." he tutted. "Such a shame. Allowing childish injustices to cloud your judgment like that."

'Do you have a point, wolf, or are you simply rambling on - "

'Ah, ah, Severus. Gift, remember?"

'Keep your stinking gift, you ingrate!" Severus roared, his teacup sailing into the wall. He stood, panting, wanting to rip out Lupin's mocking eyes as he sat there, looking up at him. How dare he... No one was allowed to speak about Lily... Potter wasn't even worthy...

"But I think you'll want this one, Severus," Remus said quietly after a few minutes. "You see, it's not from me, like you think. I visited my vault two weeks ago, like I always do, and didn't expect to find anything out of the ordinary. Imagine my surprise when a box that hadn't been there before was sat on top of a chest of Sirius' things. Naturally, I questioned my attending goblin, but he insisted the box was always there. I - "

"Of course, you were always brain addled, incompetent - "

'So I approached the box, intent on opening it and revealing it's contents. Imagine my greater surprise, Severus, when Lily's handwriting appeared atop it, saying simply 'Please give this to Severus for me, Remus.' He sat, gazing at Severus' now pale face. "But if you don't want it - "

"Give it to me!" It took all of his self control to speak in a bare whisper. All he wanted to do was draw his wand and rip the location of that box from the werewolf's mind. It was his, dammit! From Lily! How dare this imbecile try to keep it away from him!

Remus gazed at him, cold amusement making the amber orbs glow slightly in the dim light. "Alright then." A moment later he was headed for another room, jauntily striding away from the cluttered living room. Severus seethed. How dare that nauseating halfbreed discover such self-confidence. He was still seething when Remus returned holding a shoebox sized measure of cardboard. He watched the man set it down, tap it with his wand to re-enlarge, then flop back into his moth-eaten armchair carelessly. "Merry Christmas, Severus!" he had the gall to chirp.

He moved as if in a trance, first to the small, cluttered coffee table and then to the chair he had vacated short time ago. Lily's short message still adorned the smooth cover, written in faded blue ink in her curvy handwriting, just the way he remembered it. The cross of her 't's were slanted just so, and the sloppy loop of her 'e's still looked like children's scribbles with a letter stuck between. Severus' heart pounded in his chest, stuffing his ears with the force of their rhythm. He blinked, and found unshed tears congregating on his eyelids. He looked up sharply, expecting to see Lupin smirking at him over his stinking cup of tea, a scathing diatribe on his lips, but that was not what he found. Lupin had moved away, over to what Severus assumed functioned as a desk, and seemed to be deeply immersed in marking papers. Severus' breathing eased, and his eyes fell onto the box again. Slowly, cautiously, he picked up the lid, and hesitated. Inwardly, he swore at himself. What did he have to be afraid of? Lily had been dead for ten years, or nearly; what could she possibly do to him from beyond the grave? Firming his resolve, he flipped the lid off, and sat in shock at the sight that met his eyes.

It was a photograph, larger than the small sizes he had become used to. Lily had her forehead pressed against his, the sunlight shining partially between the gaps left by the eyes and noses. Her hair burned a bright orange as wisps fluttered in the slight breeze. There was a stupid look on his face, one of pure joy and contentment as he stood with his eyes close, slim, willowy fingers gripping Lily's delicate wrists. He remembered that day, as clearly now as if it had happened a few minutes ago. It was the last day of summer break before their fourth year, the day they swore nothing but death would separate them. With shaking fingers, he drew the photograph closer, staring at it as if it were water for his thirsty soul. The tip of the old Evan's house was just visible behind his shoulder, the tip of a few leaves hung over Lily's head... His heart gave an uncomfortable twinge. This was his now. He could take it with him and gaze at it until his eyes bled, but unnecessary time spent in the werewolf's home was just wrong.

Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn to the back of the picture as he lifted it from the box. There, in the same, loopy handwriting he had loved and known so well, were two words.

"You promised."

All at once, he wanted to rant and rage and throw things, but couldn't find the strength. How dare she bring this up? She was the one who walked away from their friendship. Or was she? Severus had slowly been pulling away from her for months before the confrontation by the lake, even if he hadn't realized it then. He had missed countless study sessions and lunch dates to spend hours sucking up to sycophants like Lucius Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood. It made his stomach turn to think about it. She was right, he had promised, and had broken that promise. He let the promise of greatness pull him away from his only true link in life. "You promised." The words sat there, burning a pathway in his mind. He had promised to love and protect her, never keep secrets and that nothing but death would separate them. He'd broken all of them, one right after the other, though he had never stopped loving her.

Or maybe he had.

Drawing his eyes away from the curvy script, Severus gazed at the other contents of the box. There was a sealed envelope with his name on it, and a jar of curiously colored fruit, it seemed. He set that aside,

near the photo, and opened the letter.

The first words caused the breath to catch in his throat.

Dear Severus,

I love you.

He could barely make himself continue. The world swam before his eyes and his head and heart pounded. He didn't deserve it, he knew. He never would. It was a while before he was able to open his eyes, and read on.

I know, you don't think you deserve it. And maybe you don't, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you. You were my best friend at one point, and I never stopped missing the little boy who thought the world wasn't worth living in without me. Do you remember that, Severus? When our days didn't start till we had raced away from our homes and met up at that old play park at the end of our street? I never forget, and I hope you never do as well.

Of course, I'm not writing this letter to reminisce about what we had. That was a long time ago, and time that they could never get back has gone by. But what I want is for us to move on. I know you're working for the Order, and that you've probably heard that James and I have gone into hiding. What you probably don't know is that I'm slated to give birth to a baby boy in two weeks. It's been kept hush-hush, and you are now one of five people, besides James and I, obviously, who know this. Contrary to what you may believe, I didn't accept your apology that night because I was hurt, and scared, not because I had suddenly begun to hate you. That is perhaps besides the point, but I thought you should know.

I suppose I've blathered on enough, so I shall get to the true reason for this letter. I have named you, in my will, as my son's godfather. I know your first thought is if James approves, and the fact is I quite frankly don't care. I can choose whoever I want to be a part of my child's life, and I choose you. I choose the man I know you can be.

He stopped reading then, the tangy taste of disgust and regret coating his tongue. What he wouldn't give to go back in time and fix all this. Yet it could not be. Time was gone. All he could do now was move forward.

Severus ran a hand over his face, and scoffed at himself. Here he was, about to fall apart at the seams over a decade long letter that had never been mailed. He had come here to help Potter, and yet, he was the one who was surely in need of help now. He scowled shakily, casting his eyes at anything but the items in front of him. Remus was still immersed in his papers, and Severus felt envy wash over him for a moment. To be that carefree, with one single obligation to the world around him...

Severus took a breath, and shook himself. He had a mission to accomplish, and it seemed as if he had just been given the key to doing it. There, beneath some other bits of parchment and odds and ends from his and Lily's shared childhood, was her will. He carefully broke the wax seal, waiting for the magic to wash over him and validate his identity. After a moment, he scanned the thick sheet of paper. It was as she said. After Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Alice Kent, who later became Longbottom, one Severus Snape was listed as godfather, and thus guardian if tragedy befall his parents, and Sirius Black was unable to fulfill his duties.

He sat there, feeling raw and twisted and as if the rug had been pulled out from under him. He closed his eyes, and held his head. There was so much he wanted to do with this information. Run up to the Headmaster and throw it in his face. Rage at Lupin for not finding the box sooner. Apparate to Surrey and paint Petunia's walls red with her blood; go down to the dungeons and grab his godson...

Godson...Godsons!

Severus hissed a curse, and the chipped teapot still sitting on the table burst into shards. Lupin looked up from his work, eyebrows raised.

"You look like someone just told you you'd fathered a score of children, and you've got twenty-four hours to cough up ten years of child support." He studied the man for a moment, before narrowing his eyes. "That's not the case, though, is it, Severus?

"Shut it, Lupin," was all Severus had to say.

The walk back to his chambers was made in a daze. He navigated the hallways by memory, not even feeling the cold as it wrapped around him like a cloak. He'd learned from the werewolf, after he had pulled himself together, that Harry avoided talking about his relatives at all costs, flinched when Lupin moved too quickly, panicked at the smallest of mistakes, and hadn't a decent piece of clothing to call his own. He had pointed out that they boy had never been improperly dressed after that first morning, and Remus had asked him, with that small, condescending smile, "Have you seen Harry in anything but uniform, Severus?" Of course, he had nothing to say to that, so he had left.

As disgusted as he was by it, the werewolf had given him much to think about. He really hadn't ever seen the boy in anything but uniform, but then he hadn't been around the child much. Not that that was much of an excuse. He'd seen Draco in the common room with Potter practically attached to him by the hip, and his godson had always been wearing casual clothing.

He turned the hallway and heard whispering. Were those...children? His children?

He crept closer, keeping to the shadows of the hall. What on earth could these children be doing? Surely they weren't trying to break into his quarters...

"Alohomora," he heard Draco hiss. "Oh come on. Uncle Sev always just opens it with a flick of the wrist. It can't be that hard, can it?"

"Maybe grown-up spells are different?" Harry murmured. Severus noticed with annoyance the child shivered violently. No robes? He growled, just as Harry spoke. "Draco? Could you cast that charm again?"

Draco, who seemed to be lost in thought, spun around. "Huh? Oh, sure. Calor. Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." Harry wiggled a bit, to Severus' bafflement, and hunkered down on his heels. "Are you sure there isn't a password, Draco?"

"There is, but that's for the inner door. I know that one, I just didn't think breaking in would be so hard."

Harry hummed, then asked another question. "Maybe the door's spelled to only let Professor Snape unlock it?"

'That, Mr. Potter, is a very astute assumption." Severus stepped out of the shadowy alcove, transfigured robes whipping around him. "Would one of you care to inform me just why you felt the need to break into my personal chambers?"

He stood over his two wayward students, the torchlight sending flickering shadows over their horrified faces. He watched them for a moment, taking in Draco's frantic thinking and Harry's rather panicked breathing. With a flick of his wrist and silent incantation, the door to his quarters swung open. "In," he motioned them. His arm raised inches from his side, and Harry bolted.

Severus swore, and gave chase. He cursed panicky little children and abusive muggles alike. Harry moved with nearly supernatural speed, flying over the cobblestones as if his like depended on it. Classroom doors slammed open as he passed, blocking out the sound of his footfalls and Severus' shouts of "Harry, come back!"

It wasn't till he reached the great hall did he realize he had a problem. Harry had already breached the doors, and was headed down a path through the snow cleared by his wayward magic. Severus swore again, and cast of net spell at the gaping entrance to catch any other wayward students. He launched out the door, cursing his flimsy robes, and realized he'd lost sight of Harry in the swirling snow. Praying for patience, Severus slipped into his animagus form.

The landscape changed to slanted grays and blacks in the eyes of the large flying cat, but a streak of red glowed faintly before him. He shot into the cool air, shifting on the battling currents as he tracked his small prey. The wind whistled in his ear as his wings beat the current, and Severus soothed his worry by listing the ways he planned to kill one Harry Potter when he got him back. It was his cat brain, he supposed, that muted all tumultuous feeling save the one that mattered the most. Less than a minute ago he had been angry, terrified, shocked and fearful; now all he wanted to do was get the small boy back into the large stone house he just left. No one should be out in this cold.

It wasn't long before the trail came to an end, near a large hollow tree that marked the 'safe' boundary of the forest. He descended, landing softly in the snow as his nose wrinkled at the peculiar scents accosting it. Fear, he knew well, and pain, though he shouldn't have been surprised. The cold could very well have frozen the boy's limbs stiff by now. The confusion was a matter of worry, though Severus dearly hoped the boy was just lost. The other physical scents were typical of a body in distress, and Severus ignored them; they'd be taken care of later.

He came across the boy, sitting in the hollowed tree with his arms wrapped around himself, blue from the top of his forehead to the tip of his chin. Severus growled, irritated for a brief minute at his cub's stupidity, and frightened green eyes swung to meet him.

They stared at each other, green eyes locked with black, before Severus saw the boy swallow nervously. 'Go 'way," the child whimpered. Severus snorted and took a step forward. Then, another, as a giant shiver wracked the boy's frame. Harry struggled to move away and a solid block of ice whacked Severus' nose as he snagged the boy's jumper to drag him out.

'You, Potter, will be the death of me. Have you no common sense? Who runs out into the snow in the middle of the night?' Of course, this all came out as a series of growls which did nothing to soothe the frightened child before him, but Severus didn't realize this until the boy started screaming.

The harsh, panicked sounds hurt his ears, and the cat in him bounded a few paces away. Severus slipped back into his human form, as he moved across the loose know. "calm yourself, Potter!" he snapped. Wide green eyes spun to meet him from where the boy had curled into a ball in the snow. Irritated, Severus conjured a blanket from an old dead branch near him, and carefully wrapped it around the violently shivering child.

"P-p-profes-s-sor S-s-snape!"

Severus rolled his eyes, tucking another transfigured blanket around the boy. "Obviously, Potter." he snapped, picking the light body up. "What idiotic notion could possible possess you to run out into the snow without adequate protection, you brat?"

Harry mumbled something as he burrowed into the heated cloth around him, and Severus caught the words "mad" and "punishment" among them. His arms tightened around the small bundle as he turned back towards the castle. His heart preformed odd acrobatics in his chest, a feeling he attributed to the queasy warmth crawling up through his stomach. He ruthlessly squashed all these in favor of getting the boy back to the castle before he froze to death.

He was halfway to the castle when he heard a scream from over head. There, on a broom that was twice as long as his frame, was Draco, plummeting towards the ground at breakneck speed. His heart froze in his chest, and Severus could barely find the breath to voice the spell that had sprang to his lips.

"Draco!" The shout from his chest was accompanied by a rush of magic that Severus felt more than saw. Draco seemed to slow, then bounce as if caught on the top of a boiling cauldron, before beginning to tumble towards the ground. By this time, Severus had his wand out, and was able to slow the boy's descent even more. Still, Draco ended up chest deep in a snow drift, his lips quickly turning blue from the cold.

"I told you to stay inside!" Severus snapped, levitating the boy to him.

"Y-y-es s-s-sir," Draco shivered.

"You could have died, child!" Another blanket slipped into being, and Severus did his best to wrap the small blonde body up one-handed. "What on earth caused you to do something so ridiculously foolish?"

"D-d-didn't k-know-w - "

"Oh hush!" Severus scolded, stooping low to pick Draco up with his other arm. The two small bodies wriggled about for a moment, and soon Severus held what seemed like one large bundle of boy, instead of two. He glared at the tops of the two heads pressed to his chest, and strode back to the castle.

Oh, what he wouldn't give for a glass of elf wine right now.

Never before had the warmth of a hearth felt so wonderful. Severus made a beeline for the large flat stone in front of his fireplace, bending low to dump his wayward wards onto the heated stone. One of the imps made a high pitched whining sound, and scooted closer to the flames. Severus settled himself on the floor, summoning a few potions he thought he might need. He dragged Harry backward a little, lest the boy burn his nose, and draped himself in a thick blanket from his bed. He added a few more logs to the fire, coaxing the flames to a roaring blaze, before he set to warming up his two boys.

He considered that phrase as he set about drying and warming up the two children before him. Harry's nose was red, as were Draco, ears, nose and fingers, and he grumpily cast drying charms at them both. He should be furious, he suspected. The little urchins had attempted to break into his quarters, made him run all over the castle and then out into the snow, and given him unwanted and unneeded heart attacks. He should have them scrubbing cauldron till their eyes bled, but he wasn't. He focused on getting them properly warm, and warding off frostbite and other icky illnesses;then he could think about punishment.

He sent both children a glare as he handed out potions, daring them to complain. Harry practically stuck out of Draco's side, something that made Severus want o rip something to shreds. The fire crackled merrily behind the two children who were careful to look anywhere but at him. They were all lucky they hadn't spent too much time out in the snow, and that Severus had done his best to keep them warm. As such, no fingers or toes were in danger of being lost, much to Severus' relief. He banished their soiled clothing, earning undignified squawks in return, and summoned two sleep shirts from his own room. A resizing charm later, both boys were once again es consed in their blankets, and Severus was ready to begin.

"Now," he said, drawing himself up. "One of you, explain."

There was silence. After a minute it seemed Draco could no longer bear the quiet. "We're sorry, sir," the boy mumbled.

"That's it?" Severus stared at the children, noticing that Harry was doing his best to become invisible. "You were out after curfew, using magic in the halls, attempting to break into a professor's private rooms, and left the safety of the castle in the middle of the night without protective wear and all you have to say for yourselves is 'sorry' ?" Both boy's squirmed, and Severus stifled a heavy sigh. "Very well then."

Draco's eyes widened at the ominous tone, and he chanced a look up. Severus gazed right at him, and the blonde boy swallowed.

"Harry, come here."

Severus had expected a screaming fit, tears maybe, having to extract the boy off of Draco's back with a chisel spell, but he did not. What he got was immediate obedience, even if Harry was pale and trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. Severus grit his teeth, kicking himself for not seeing the signs earlier. "Let me make this clear, Harry," he said slowly. The child's eyes were riveted on his hands, and Severus was careful to keep very still as he spoke.

"It has just come to my attention that I was made your godfather by your mother prior to your birth. What this means for you is this: You will live with me during all school holidays and I will clothe feed and shelter you as befits any guardian. Problems with your schoolwork or behavior will be brought to my attention, and stunts like the one you pulled tonight will not be tolerated, do I make myself clear, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's eyes, which had been wide with fear to begin with, threatened to pop out of his head, and swimming in unshed tears. Severus felt awkward; Draco wasn't much of a crier; there was too much Lucius in him for that. But children liked hugs, didn't they? He'd had a few students hug him over the years, and it seemed to make them feel better. He could try it, he supposed. It couldn't hurt.

A moment later he had an armful of weeping, blubbering little boy. Harry had started in with a mantra of 'Thankyouthankyouthankyou' that quickly descended into unintelligible gibbering, though Severus found he didn't mind as much as he thought he would have. He was more worried about the smug look on Draco's face. He raised an eyebrow at the brat, and scowled. Draco's smile only widened.

"I told him you were alright, Uncle Sev," the boy said, scooting closer.

"Don't be so smug, dragon. You will be staying with me as well." Draco froze, and pierced him with silver gray eyes.

"For good, this time?" he asked softly.

Severus nodded, and pulled the boy close. "For good this time."

Draco smiled, and crawled into Severus' lap, wiggling around until he had an arm wrapped around both his godfather and Harry.

"Good."

The fire cracked and popped merrily, before them, but none of them heard a thing