Snape was helping Harry into his formal robes as they prepared to meet for dinner with Draco Malfoy. Harry was doing his best to be cooperative. Although he had fallen asleep the night before after his father had yelled at him, he had not forgotten that scary voice and temper. All day he had been as perfect and as good as possible. He didn't ever want to hear his father yelling at him again.

"You recall the discussion we had a few weeks ago about the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, and how, even though the Dark Lord is now gone forever, the danger is still present?"

Harry nodded and squirmed as the collar of his new robe was a bit tight. Harry did recall the conversation. It had triggered an awful nightmare of some snakey man with red eyes running after him.

"Draco is one of the best students at school and he has offered to take care of you when I am called away for meetings or have other school business to attend to."

"Is that going to happen a lot, Daddy? School bizness?"

He lifted Harry off the short coffee table the boy had been standing on, and planted his feet firmly on the floor in the sitting room.

"It's possible, Harry. School makes for a very busy time. Of course, you're also going to be a busy young man when you stay with Mrs. Weasley and help her take care of her house."

"And don't forget tooting with He'mione, Daddy!" Harry piped up. He was looking forward to lessons with Hermione. Her curly wild hair fascinated him and she talked about a lot of things with Harry as though he were as smart as she was.

"Tutoring," Snape corrected.

"Will Draco play with me?"

For a brief moment Snape wondered if he weren't cheating Harry by not living someplace where the boy would meet other children his age. He recalled something Miss Granger had mentioned about a 'park' and made a mental note to ask her again about it.

"I'm sure he will, son. Now, do we look perfect for our guest?" Snape stood tall and straight as his son eyed him critically.

"You look great, Daddy. What's for dinner?"

There came a knock on the portrait door and Harry's face brightened. He turned and silently asked if he could answer it. With a nod, Harry happily ran to the portrait door and opened it.

Harry looked up at the tall, slim young man that wore formal robes in soft shades of grey. Draco couldn't help but smile at the open, friendly face that greeted him. Even so, as manners dictated, he bowed slightly at his young host.

The bow from the older boy reminded Harry of the manners his father had been teaching him recently. Doing his best to govern his enthusiasm, he bowed, a little awkwardly, and welcomed their guest. As soon as he politely ushered in Draco and his father formally greeted his student, Harry lost all formality, grabbed Draco by the hand, and pulled him over to his little art center that Snape had set up a few weeks ago. He had an easel, paints, crayons, brushes and pencils. On the easel was a rather decent portrait of Hagrid, the half-giant.

"Did you know he's a half-giant? That means he's bigger than everyone. He makes these yucky rock cakes that I think have real rocks in them and Fang, that's his dog, slobbers on everything. I have to take a bath every time I visit because Daddy says the slobber is smelly."

"Do you ever take a breath?" Draco asked with a smirk at the little boy who held his hand tightly.

Harry liked Draco's smirk. It was a lot like his father's. He grinned cheekily. "No."

"Harry? Remember what I told you," Snape reminded softly.

"Oh! Uhm, Dr... Mr. Malfoy, come sit down." He pulled Draco over to the sofa and chairs in front of the fireplace. "Do you want some pumpkin juice or butterbeer? Daddy lets me pour pumpkin juice into glasses. I like it better than butterbeer. What do you want?"

Harry didn't wait for an answer and ran to the kitchen. Snape seated himself in his favorite chair and commented, "He isn't a hyperactive child, I can promise you, Mr. Malfoy. He's just been waiting for this visit all day."

"That's okay, Professor. I don't think in four years that Harry's spoken that much to me. He seems... happy."

"Harry!" Snape's attention was caught by his son in the kitchen with a tall and very full glass of pumpkin juice. "Both hands on that glass and don't you dare run."

"Yes, Daddy... I mean, sir." Carefully Harry held the very full glass at arms length and walked it into the sitting room. As he handed it to Draco, he was very pleased that he hadn't spilled a single drop.

The moment of perfection was ruined as Harry jumped up beside Draco on the sofa and bumped the boy's arm. The pumpkin juice sloshed and spilled on Draco's beautiful dress robes and the floor. Mortified, and also afraid that his father was going to yell, Harry raced like a shot to his bedroom and slammed the door shut.

With a very slight apologetic sigh Snape Scourgified the spill on the carpet and Draco did the same spell on his robes.

"He's been very nervous about his manners of late," began Snape. "I should go speak to him."

"Professor? Could I go talk to Harry?" For some reason, Draco could remember his own nervousness when his parents had paraded him out in front of their adult friends. Not that he would be punished for making any blunders, but it was important to him that his own perfect behavior reflected well on the parents he cared about so much. He was certain that Harry was probably feeling the same way.

Snape considered a moment and then nodded. "If you need me..."

Draco rose to his feet. "I'll let you know, sir."

Draco headed over to the closed door and knocked gently. "Harry? It's me, Draco. May I come in and talk?"

There was no answer, but a minute or two later, the door opened a crack and one green eye looked up at him for a moment before disappearing. Draco pushed the door open and allowed himself to be distracted by the decor of the little boy's room.

It was a large room, with an ornate four-poster bed draped with purple velvet drapes edged with gold embroidery, that dominated the bedroom. Next to the bed was a matching, tall wardrobe, and then a wide, enchanted window that looked over the Mer City beneath the deep waters of the Black Lake. The carpet was a thick, warm gold with a decorative purple and lavender Celtic knot design around the edge.

The walls were decorated with remarkable watercolor or crayon or pencil portraits of Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Flitwick all surrounded by sketches of owls, and various fauna Hagrid took care of including several drawings of a slobbering Fang.

Draco allowed himself to be drawn in by the most detailed portrait which was of Snape bent over a cauldron measuring out ingredients in the midst of his lab. His robes, instead of being one big block of black had folds and shading of deep purple, dark blue, and even delicate highlights. What really amazed Draco about the artistry of the portrait wasn't that Harry had done a brilliant job of portraying the Potions Master (which he had), but he had caught the wizard's passion for the art of potion making.

"You're very good, Harry." Draco never thought he'd be complimenting Harry Potter over anything, but his praise of the little boy's artwork was genuine. He wondered if the teenager he'd known had been an artist.

"Thank you," came Harry's soft reply. "I'm sorry for messing up your robe."

Draco turned and smiled at the little boy that was somewhat dwarfed by his large bed. "That's okay, Harry. I know a cleaning spell so it's all fine. Plus, the house elfs here are really good at getting pumpkin juice stains out of clothes."

A very tiny smile quirked at the corners of Harry's mouth. "Daddy's really mad at me, isn't he? He's been trying real hard to teach me manners and I keep forgetting."

"Nooo, he's really not mad at all, Harry. He's more worried about you. I think he knows you were trying to make a good impression." Draco sat down beside the little boy.

"Did I? Did I make a good m'pression?"

Draco chuckled. "Yeah. You did, Harry. Are you hungry for dinner?" Harry nodded and slipped off the bed. As an afterthought, he took Draco's hand. The two boys left Harry's bedroom.

The small dining table by the kitchen was laden down with roast, potatoes, vegetables, and warm breadsticks. A glass of red wine was by Draco and Snape's settings and Snape was currently pouring pumpkin juice into a glass for Harry.

"Harry. Are you all right now?" asked Snape.

"I'm sorry for making a mess, Daddy." Harry's voice was whispery and forlorn. "Are you mad?"

Snape knelt down in front of his son and grasped him gently by his upper arms. "You've done very well, Harry. The spill didn't matter since it was easily cleaned up." He brushed a strand of hair that had fallen over Harry's right eye away. To Draco's gobsmacked surprise, Snape kissed Harry's cheek and drew the little boy into a brief hug.

The rest of the dinner was relaxed and mostly dominated by Harry talking to Draco. After dinner they sat down in front of the fire and Harry plopped himself next to Draco. Snape and Draco talked about Potions class, some of the other classes, and deftly avoided talking about the Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy.

By the time Harry was starting to nod off, Draco made his farewells and thanked his professor for dinner. At the portrait door, Snape stopped his student briefly.

"Mr. Malfoy, I have a short staff meeting before breakfast tomorrow at 6:30 in the morning. Would you come by then, see to Harry getting up and dressed and escort him to breakfast?"

Draco nodded. "I'll be here, professor. Goodnight."