Harry watched his feet move over the worn stones of the castle. Each step bringing him closer to the Potions Master’s office and Professor Snape. Harry attempted to swallow back his anxiety which only caused his stomach to curdle. For the first time since the end of second year Harry was dreading meeting with the ’greasy git’ of the dungeons. Stopping in front of a old wooden door Harry raised his fist and after a moments hesitation knocked softly at the door.

“Come.”

Biting his bottom lip Harry pushed open the door that had been opened for him only slightly. Moving into the office he stopped behind the chairs facing the professor’s desk. Snape was grading papers and didn’t even look up as Harry moved into the room. Harry almost hoped the man wouldn’t look up. That Snape would just tell him the news Harry was dreading and send him on his way.

“Sit. I’m almost done.”

Obediently Harry moved around the straight back wooden chair accidentally kicking it and causing it to scrap loudly across the stones. The noise echoed in his ears and he risked a glance at his professor expecting to see a glare and to hear a biting comment about his clumsiness. Instead the professor continued grading not even hesitating as he wrote another comment on the poor first year’s paper.

Harry watched Snape make a couple more comments on the essay before marking the grade and setting it aside with others. Swallowing nervously Harry swore he wouldn’t cry. No matter what Snape told him he wouldn’t break down again in front of the man.

“ All right, Harry,” Snape said finally looking up, only to tilt his head to the side curiously, “what’s wrong?”

Harry shrugged. Snape knew very well what was wrong.

“Harry,” Snape sounded concerned as he stood and moved around his desk coming to stand in front of Harry.

Harry felt the professor’s hand against his forehead and cheeks as if checking for a fever. Harry had to fight back the desire to throw himself into the professor’s arms at the paternal action.

“Harry, what’s got you so worked up?” Snape asked, and Harry almost whimpered as the hand was removed from his cheek.

“The papers didn’t go through, did they?” Harry’s voice cracked. “Now I can’t stay with you. I’ll have to go back to the Dursley’s.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The adoption papers. They didn’t go through.”

“They didn’t?” Snape’s voice held genuine confusion and caused Harry’s head to snap up to look at the professor.

“Isn’t that why you asked me to come down here?”

Harry watched Snape shake his head back and forth. “No, child. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“The man from the Ministry. He said we’d have their decision by today.”

Snape did not immediately reply instead he stepped closer and cupping the back of Harry’s head pulled him closer. Harry’s head leaned against the professor resting just below his chest. The professor’s right hand remained on the back of his head while the other came up to rub his back gently.

Harry brought his arms up to wrap around Snape’s waist, rather proud he‘d kept himself from crying. “He kept coming back and asking questions and bringing more things for you to sign. Like he was looking for any excuse to say ‘no’.”

“They said ‘yes,’ Harry. The papers went though. I asked you down here to tell you that and see if you wanted to spend the weekend down here with me instead of in your dorm.”

Harry pulled back from Snape to look up at him with large eyes and his mouth hanging open. He couldn’t believe it. The ministry said ‘yes.’ He had a father now.

Snape smirked slightly when Harry didn‘t respond, “I’m a Potions Master not a mind reader. You’re going to have to speak in order for me to know you’re agreeable to the arrangement.”

Harry was practically whistling on his way back to the dungeons later that evening. After leaving Severus’s office, he’d wanted to finish his assignments and tell Ron and Hermione where he would be all weekend, so he headed up to Gryffindor Tower. His assignments had been completed rather quickly with Hermione’s help and his friends were almost as happy as he was about his adoption.

The wide grin that had been permanently affixed to his face since leaving the Potions Master’s office faded only slightly as Harry noticed a door that he’d swear hadn’t been in the dungeons before. The door was on the left side of the corridor not far from his… father’s quarters. Harry’s smile instantly widened at calling Snape his father even if it was only in his head.

His curiosity overriding his sensibilities once again, Harry approached the door expecting it to be lock or just another empty unused classroom. He was surprised, therefore, when he opened the door to find what appeared to be a small supply closet. The closet, however, was not empty. From floor to ceiling, it was filled with jars each containing a different specimen.

Taking a step inside, Harry’s mouth fell open slightly and his eyes widened behind his spectacles. One large jar was nearly over flowing with small furry…puff balls of varying browns and whites. They almost looked like pygmy puffs, but lacked any visible faces or appendages. Another jar held a perfectly flawless spherical object that looked like silicon. Harry thought it could be an egg of some sort. Another held a decaying creature that reminded Harry of a virus he once saw under a microscope in primary school, only much much larger. There was one that held an innocuous looking gold liquid. Harry thought the jar containing three creatures that vaguely resembled gila monsters without defined arms and legs and with more slime were rather creepy. A very small jar contained a worm like creature…the perfect size to crawl into an ear.

He’d never seen creatures like this before. He’d have to show this to Hermione, even if she couldn’t name them straight away she’d know where to look to find out. Or better yet, his father. Harry was sure his growing smile looked rather demented. Severus was sure to love this room, and all its unusual potion ingredients. Harry was about to leave the room and pull Severus away from whatever he was doing to see this when he remembered something Dumbledore had once said. Something about how the castle was always changing and sometimes rooms would come and go as they pleased. Harry had never seen this room before and thought of never doing to again was frightening.

Deciding the best thing to do would be to take one of the specimens with him and hope the room was still there when he returned, Harry grabbed a medium sized jar with what appeared to be a still living specimen in it. The light flesh colored… thing had an almost jelly like appearance it had stuck itself to the side of the jar and appeared to be breathing. It a way it resembled an insect that had been splattered against a window.

Harry grabbed the jar and stepped out of the room reluctantly, closing the door behind him.

Excited over his find, Harry began running down the hall to Snape’s quarters. Just before he reached the concealed door, however, he tripped on a loose piece of stone. Harry hit the floor on his stomach the jar, flying out of his hands. He watched with wide eyes as the jar slammed against wall, shattering into a hundred pieces; however, it was not the broken shards of glass that caused him the most concern. It was the still ‘breathing’ creature that had managed to stick itself to the wall.

Harry stared at the blob. His breathing was rapid as though he’d just run a marathon, and his palms felt slick against the stone floor. Slowly he pulled his hands across the floor towards his body and began to slowly rise. Before he could fully push himself to his knees, the creature flew towards him like a wobbly frizzbe. It attached itself to his back and all Harry knew after that was pain.

z88;

Having heard Harry scream from his bedroom where he was changing out of his teaching robes, Snape had immediately ran to the young Gryffindor’s aid. When he opened the door to his chambers a moment later, he had found Harry lying on the ground, still screaming and rolling about as though under the Cruciatus Curse with sharp glass lying on the ground nearby.

“Poppy!” Snape bellowed as he kicked the door to the hospital wing open. Cradled in his arms was the unconscious form of Harry.

He gently placed his adopted son on a cot and was about to bellow for the mediwitch once again when he heard her voice over his shoulder. It was as if his mere presence had activated her mediwitch programming.

“What happened, Severus?” Poppy questioned, even as her wand began scanning Harry up and down.

“I don’t know. I found him lying on the ground screaming as if being tortured.” He then drew in a slow breath. “I had to stun him in order to bring him here.”

Poppy made no indication that she had heard him before uttering, “My God, man” in response to her scans.

“What?” Severus asked, more concerned than before. It was rare for Poppy to react with such emotion.

“I . . . I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Dammit, Poppy! Tell me what’s wrong!”

Finally turning to face him, Poppy pointed towards her office. “Go wait in my office, Severus. I have to perform surgery immediately.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Severus’s heart pounded in his ears. He couldn’t lose his son. He just couldn’t.

“Listen to me. Whatever this is, it requires emergency surgery. So I don’t have time to be arguing with you, Severus. Just go and wait in my office.” Poppy’s tone was cold as ice and brokered no room for argument. Also, the way she was fingering her wand, Snape figured she would likely stun him if he didn’t comply immediately. At his hesitation, she added, “Severus, you know resistance is futile, so don't even attempt it.”

With a brief nod and a final glance at Harry, Snape moved away from the cot towards the office.

“Take a calming draught while you’re in there. You know where they are,” Poppy called after him before curtaining off the bed and magically sealing it against intruders.

By Severus’s count, it took five hours thirteen minutes and three calming draughts later for Poppy to finish with Harry and make her way to her office where Snape was impatiently waiting. Snape almost envied the completely emotionless persona Poppy was able to wear when she played the part of the mediwitch. Normally, he could do the same thanks to his Occlumency, but this was Harry, his son.

“Severus, I did all I could, but . . .” Poppy swallowed. “The damage is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Something has intertwined so extensively with his spinal column that I can’t remove it without causing severe spinal damage. It has fully embedded itself in his nervous system. If I were to wake him now, Severus, he’d suffer. Therefore, I’m keeping him heavily sedated. This is only temporary, I’m hoping.”

“How is that even possible?” He had heard of spells causing severe spinal injuries, but whatever this was, it was almost otherworldly.

“I’m not sure,” she said, frowning in an almost resigned way.

“There must be something you can do, woman!” Snape snarled, jumping from his chair.

“Perhaps, Severus, but it relies solely on you finding what did this to him,” Poppy said before returning to her patient.