Harry sat at his desk in his father's small lab very carefully studying a magical three-dimensional representation of the flower that made Solonus Isle famous amongst Potions Masters the world over. The stem was thick with wide, waxen leaves. The flower itself was as wide as a lotus, but had the compact profusion of petals that a camellia had. It was the only flower in the world that was completely and flawlessly black from its seed, to its petals, to its roots. If you sliced into the flower, anywhere, it was still black right down to the chlorophyll that would bleed from the flower.

Sitting beside the desk, his hunched over posture unconsciously mimicking Harry's, was Severus lecturing about the flower.

"The petals are used almost exclusively in potions used on children. Since children grow,"

"...like weeds," smiled Harry.

Severus' eyebrow quirked upward, "Yes, like weeds. It is harder to dose them. By using the petals it allows for a more precise dosing in many potions. Do you remember some of the pediatric pain potions that utilise Melancton petals, Harry?"

Harry beetled his brow in momentary thought as he ran over the lessons he'd had with his father the last few days on the flower and then replied, "Colic Relief Potion, Amalane's Headache Ease Potion for Toddlers, uhm, and Gumby's Teething Potion."

"Almost. The last one is Gramby's Teething Potion." He watched as Harry dutifully made a note in his very own Potions Journal. Harry's handwriting was still a childish print, but it was much smoother after Hermione Granger had tutored him.

"The petals have magical stuff, don't they? I mean..." he bit his lower lip in thought. "If you're using it to control doses for kids... I don't think I know what I'm asking," Harry frowned in frustration.

"The preparation of the petal is what decides how it will be used in a potion. The simplest example is as a dosage control. The petal must be as whole as possible when plucked from the stem. You then fold the petal down the center, but without creasing it. From there, depending upon the potion it's being used for, you drop it in as instructed."

Harry was quickly scribbling notes in the journal. Severus continued his lecture. "The leaves are the most versatile of the Melancton. Why are they versatile?"

Harry stared at the flower, frowned, and then turned to his Potions Journal and to notes that he'd made earlier that morning. He smiled when he found the answer. "Melancton leaves are ver... sa... tile because they can be used in potions for adults and teenagers and they can subi... subsitute?" He glanced up at his father and Severus whispered the pronunciation in his son's ear. "Substitute! If petals aren't around they can substitute. Right?"

"Correct. However, when can the leaves NOT be used as a substitute?"

Harry didn't remember noting that down after he and his father read about the 'Black Flower' last night. "I don't remember."

"If the potion needs Melancton for dosage control, the leaves cannot substitute for the petals."

Harry made the note and then smiled. "My Potion Journal helps a lot, daddy. Thanks for it. When do we get to hunt for the Black Flower?" He started poking his finger through the magical image of the Melancton flower making the image waver.

Severus consulted his watch. "In about two hours, which means you need to have some lunch so you can get your nap over with."

Harry pouted. "How come I have to keep taking naps?"

Severus waved away the image of the Melancton Flower and hoisted Harry up into his arms. Touching his nose to his son's and scowling melodramatically, he intoned, "Because you are a growing boy, a boy growing like a weed, so very quickly that it tires out your bones and muscles. Naps are a way to recharge so you don't stop growing."

Harry smiled and giggled at his father. "But, I'm a good size, aren't I?"

"Well, I quite like you this size, child. I can still pick you up and carry you without breaking my back." They stepped out of the lab and he put Harry down on his feet. With a hand to his son's back, he urged him down the hall and towards the kitchen.

Harry seated himself at the kitchen table and began to swing his legs. Hector came in and lay down beside his boy in the hopes of catching any food that might fall from Harry's plate. Severus had begun to put together sandwiches for himself and Harry.

"Daddy, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Harry."

"I've been thinking lately of my cousin, Dudley." Severus stopped what he was doing and turned to face the little boy who was tracing designs on his empty plate with his fingertip.

"Are you worried about him?"

"I think so. I mean, Aunt Petunia never hit Dudley, but she was kind of weird with him. If people were around, she'd get all squishy sweet about him, but at home, she'd say some really mean things to him. He never cried, but he sure beat me up a lot. I just kind of wonder if he's okay, because now he doesn't have someone to hit if his mum yells at him."

Severus' jaw had dropped during Harry's small speech. He had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth before speaking. He marveled that his son was able to still find some compassion for that boy who was easily twice his size, even when he was still a teenager, and who had probably hurt him, physically, numerous times.

"Are you worried that your aunt might hurt your cousin?" he asked warily.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Dudley's her kid and mums don't hurt their own kids, do they?"

Severus took a moment to finish the sandwiches and then brought them over to the table where he sat down. "Parents should never hurt their children, but it is something that, unfortunately, sometimes happens."

Harry fiddled with his sandwich, pretending to look it over before taking a bite. "Aunt Petunia's really mean, daddy."

"Would you feel better if I went and looked in upon your cousin to see if he's all right?" Harry glanced up hopefully. "It would be no trouble at all." He picked up his sandwich and took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then continued. "As a matter of fact, I have some long overdue business to take care of with your aunt, so I could do that and make certain that Dudley is all right."

While Harry took his nap, Echo watched over him. Severus, who rarely Apparated such long distances, made an exception in this case. He had to Apparate twice, but he was standing on Privet Drive within fifteen minutes of leaving the cottage on Solonus Isle.

Severus had put on his teaching robes as they were the most intimidating next to his Death Eater robes (thankfully burned). He knew he ought to dress as a Muggle, but he did not want to ruin the effect. To keep the neighbors from staring, though, he used a Disillusionment Spell until he was right at the door to #4 Privet Drive. One knock and the door was ripped angrily open.

Petunia Dursley did not look at all well. Usually perfectly dressed without a hair out of place, her dishwater brown hair looked like it was trying to escape the bun it was in and there were bags under her eyes that looked months old. On top of that, the already thin woman seemed to have lost even more weight.

The only thing that hadn't changed was the look of absolute loathing upon her features as she eyed Severus Snape. The door slammed shut in his face without a word from the hateful woman. He waited a moment, unlocked the door with an Unlocking Charm, opened it, stepped inside, and was met by a vicious slap to his face. He made no sign or expression that the assault bothered him.

"Always a pleasure, Tuney," his voice slid like acid towards her.

"Come to gloat, Snivellus?" she spat.

"Gloat? Over what? At your request, I took the Potter boy off your hands. Your life ought to be idyllic by now. Is there," he glanced casually around the living room he'd stepped into noticing the faint stale smell of cigarettes and the general disarray that showed the place had only half-heartedly been cleaned. He continued, "a problem?"

"What does it matter to you?" She kicked aside a stack of magazines next to a recliner. "What are you here for anyway?"

"Unfinished business. However, I need to take care of a concern my... that Potter has in regards to his cousin." Petunia only glared, her lips pressed so tightly together they were practically bloodless. She said nothing, just sneered and crossed her thin arms over her bosom. "Where is your son, Petunia?"

"What does that matter to you?" she demanded.

"It matters little to me. As I said, it is Potter who has the concern. My business with you will be taken care of once you can answer my question about your son to my satisfaction."

Petunia threw up her hands and kicked the now fallen stack of magazines again sending them to slide further across the carpet. "That disgusting pig of a husband is what happened. He took my Dudders and left."

"Really?" He was genuinely surprised. "I didn't think the Muggle had it in him. You seemed to have had him wrapped quite tightly around your finger."

"Doesn't matter. Good riddance." She slumped into the recliner, picked up a somewhat crumpled pack of cigarettes, shook one out and proceeded to smoke the vile cancer stick. Petunia purposely blew the smoke up at Severus. He merely waved his hand lazily at the offensive odour.

"Where are your son and... ex-husband?" he inquired archly and decidedly offensively.

Petunia took a few more puffs of the cigarette before stubbing it out in an overfull ashtray on the other side of the recliner.

"If it means that much to the hideous whelp, Vernon was relocated to London. And yes, he'll be my ex soon enough."

For a brief moment, as the thin woman slumped in the chair, Severus could see that any punishment he'd meant to mete out she'd already dealt to herself.

Petunia Evans had been a first rate bully, especially towards her sister when they were children. Severus never understood why that was as their parents had never laid a harsh hand upon either daughter. The only thing he could ever figure was that Petunia's anger came purely out of jealousy towards a sister who was prettier, smarter, and a witch.

Thoughts of hurting the vile woman faded from his mind as he grinned darkly at a much finer, more just punishment. Removing his wand, he turned the recliner so she was facing him. Petunia started to rise indignantly but a magical force caught her tightly and smacked her right back down into the chair. Another spell made it impossible for her to talk.

He loomed over Petunia and spoke gently, "I adopted Harry Potter, knowing you were always one for keeping your word. Harry's good fortune in de-aging himself has been a blessing for both of us. I have a son I am very proud of. He is a kind, compassionate child, and full of joy and life. Just like Lily was. It is a pity you'll never know such happiness or love yourself, Petunia. You'll soon become old, gray, and as bitter as your words."

With a flourish, he turned away from the woman who was trying to scream obscenities at him and was struggling to free herself from the chair. Severus did not free her until he was several houses away from #4 Privet Drive.

A few minutes later he had Apparated to London, the Muggle side of the busy city. A simple look in a phone book gave him the information he needed and he was soon in front of a modest brick house with a small yard.

The boy, Dudley, that he'd had only a quick glimpse of when he'd retrieved Harry over a year ago, was out in front tending to the garden. Still a bit thick, Harry's cousin had lost some weight. If he continued to do so, he wouldn't be a bad looking young man. Dudley turned slightly to stuff weeds into a sack when he caught sight of the wizard. He gulped, but did his best to hide his fear.

"Uhm... hi. You're that... that man that took Harry, aren't you?" he asked nervously.

He watched, with approval, as Dudley stood up, wiped his hands on his jeans, and walked over to Severus.

Severus bowed slightly. "You are, no doubt, Harry's cousin Dudley."

Dudley smiled slightly. "Yeah. How is Harry?"

"He's well. He asked me to come and see how you were. Are you well?"

Dudley blinked in astonishment. "Harry asked about me?"

"That he did. He was most concerned about you."

Dudley blushed and then shrugged. "He always was too nice. I was really mean to him." He quickly backpedaled, afraid that the tall man might take what he said wrong. "I didn't mean to be, but mum was always hitting him and it just... well, it wasn't right, but I did, too. I'm seeing a therapist," he offered, hoping that might be taken well.

"I'm very glad to hear it. Tell me, Dudley, is your father as against magic as your mother?"

"Nah, not really. He gets a little weirded out by it, but I think it was mostly because mum made such a big fuss he just went along with her. He just couldn't ever say anything." Dudley trembled slightly, still afraid of the tall, imposing wizard, but he swallowed tightly and grabbed at a resevoir of bravery. "Sir, my dad... he never hit Harry. I mean, he yelled and should have stopped mum, but sometimes, well... he did try. He's not a bad man. Dad's in therapy, too."

Severus regarded the young boy who would most likely be of age if he wasn't already. Touching his mind, the wizard could see how strong the boy's regret was for what he'd done to his cousin, and he was sincere about hoping the wizard wouldn't choose to punish his father severely.

Severus made a decision he hoped he would not regret later. "I don't suppose you might wish to receive a letter now and then from your cousin, would you?" Dudley's face brightened as much as Harry's ever did when he received good news. "It would come by owl."

"That's not a problem at all, sir!" Dudley continued to smile. "Oh! Since you're here, you can give this... well, wait here. I'll be right back."

Puzzled, Severus watched as the large boy ran into the house. It was several minutes before he came back out carrying a broom. Severus recognised it as Harry's beloved Firebolt that he'd gotten from his godfather Sirius Black.

Slightly breathless, Dudley held the broom out towards Severus. "Mum had this in her broom closet. She'd make Harry use it to sweep up the kitchen and back porch. It would make him cry."

Severus scowled sharply, but Dudley understood the look wasn't directed at him. The wizard took the broom and Dudley watched with wide eyes as he shrank it and tucked it into a pocket.

"Wow! That's cool. Uhm, sir, I found Harry after he did that... that thing with his magic to make himself younger. Did he mess up his memory?"

"Harry lost all the memories he had after he was six years of age. For him, anything after that never happened for him."

Dudley looked down at his feet. "I guess it's good for him to have forgotten some things. I was kinda okay with him until we were both about that age. Mum, she just went nuts then. That's when all the weird stuff..."

"Accidental magic, it's called," Severus corrected.

"Oh yeah. Mum said her sister used to do that stuff. It just... well, would you tell Harry, I'm real sorry, even for what he doesn't remember. And, I would really like hearing from him. So, he's happy, now?"

Severus nodded. "He is. Harry is my son, now. I can assure you that he's living the life he should have. Are you happy as well, Dudley?"

Dudley smiled, genuinely pleased at the question. "Yeah. Me and my dad both are. I wish mum could be happy, but... there's nothin' I can do."

"I shall let you get back to your gardening, young man. Let your father know that I was here and that Harry ought to be sending a letter by owl, soon." He gave the boy another bow, and a gentle smirk.

Dudley also bowed, a little awkwardly. In a blink, the wizard was gone and he went back to his gardening. He couldn't wait to hear from his cousin.

Harry had awakened from his nap only a few minutes before his father returned home. He was getting dressed while Severus took a moment to catch his breath and to take an Energy Potion.

"Is everything all right with Harry's cousin?" Echo asked bringing him some tea.

"Petunia Dursley is alone. It seems her husband found a backbone and left her, taking his son with him. I had intended a small bit of retribution towards him, as well, since inaction in the face of abuse is a facet of abuse in itself, but it seems Vernon Dursley and Dudley are both in therapy."

"The woman doesn't deserve to be around any children," concluded Echo. She leaned over and kissed Severus' cheek.

"Are you on your way to the Ministry?" asked Severus. His reluctance at her leaving showed clearly on his face.

Echo smiled. "I am, but I'll be home to greet you two mighty hunters with dinner."

His dark eyes glittered wickedly, "And with kisses?"

"Certainly, but maybe you'd like one before I leave?"

Severus pulled her down into his lap, his arms tight around Echo's waist. "If it's just one, it had better be a good one."

Harry emerged from his bedroom with a small backpack on his back. He wasn't surprised any longer to see his father kissing Echo, but he had some questions now that he needed to ask. Maybe during their hunt for the black flower, he could ask.

He waited, quietly, for a minute or two before stomping his feet noisily on the floor. The two amourous adults broke apart, and with a smile and a giggle, Echo slid off Severus lap, kissed his cheek and threw Floo powder into the fireplace.

"Have a good day, you two," she said, and waved.

"Bye Echo," said Harry.

Severus rose to his feet and merely smiled, like a satisfied cat. Echo disappeared in the green flames and then Severus turned to Harry. He caught the contemplative look on his son's face.

"We have a few minutes before we have to go, son. Is there something you wanted to ask me?" He had an awful feeling that he might have been too indiscreet with his affection towards Echo.

"Do you love Echo, dad?" Harry asked bluntly.

Severus knew he ought to have expected this question sooner or later, but even so, it still caught him off guard. He wanted to be honest with his son, but he wasn't certain how to answer the question.

"I... well..." he was stammering like an idiot and for the wizard who had an answer for everything, this was uncomfortable. He tried again, but nothing came out this time.

It was Harry's observation that ended his stuttering. "I kind of think you do, dad. Not cuz you kiss her a lot, which you do, but because you smile when you see her and you like to help her a lot in the kitchen and you even went swimming with us last week and you hate swimming!"

"You wouldn't mind, then, if I were falling in love with Echo?"

Harry shook his head and grinned. "Are you?"

Severus' sigh was a relief of tension, and he did smile briefly. "I think I might be, Harry. How do you feel about Echo?"

"I love her and want to keep her forever!" he stated very firmly.

"Well... ah..." Severus coughed. He was pleased, very much, and also relieved, again, at his son's feelings for Echo. However, he did have one more question for his son. "Does it bother you when Echo and I kiss so much?"

"It's okay," he shrugged. "I asked Draco if he kissed Hermione as much as you kissed Echo and he kind of seemed shocked that you kissed at all." Harry frowned at that.

Severus couldn't help the sharp chuckle that escaped. No doubt any student of his would be shocked to discover that their aloof professor had a life beyond the confines of his Potions class.

He summoned his backpack and caught it as it sailed into the living room from his lab. "Let's get going, Harry. I promise to let you know if I do fall in love, all right?"

"Okay!"

Harry was nearly jumping out of his skin by the time they made their way from the cottage. As he and his father walked up the path to the village, Severus told his son about Dudley and Vernon's good fortune. As he expected, Harry was sad about his aunt, but he was looking forward to writing to his cousin. Severus intended to tell Harry about the broom, later. After that, for the duration of their walk to the boat dock, Harry rattled on happily about everything he was going to write in his first letter.

Severus was amazed and amused by the little boy who trotted ahead, bounced between distractions, and truly indulged in that joy de vivre that all children seemed in abundance of. He didn't know it, but Harry's exuberance added a small bounce to the Potions Master's stride that soon had father and son in the midst of the crowded port of Solonus Isle.

The dock was a wonderfully busy place that had a few open stalls where fresh seafood was sold. There were sellers shouting out prices to entice customers, and sailors and fishermen traipsing here and there. Small, boutique style shops sold all sorts of souvenirs from cheap, to the extravagant. There was quite a bit to distract the crow in Harry and his green eyes sparkled with every new delight.

Severus peeled Harry away from one store window that held glittering chessmen made from a variety of materials. Ahead of them was a sight he didn't want his son to miss. Before Harry could be distracted by something else, his father bent down and pointed. Harry let out an excited gasp; docked in the little bay was a wizarding tall ship. It was a magnificent brigantine painted in the bright colours often favoured by such wizarding ships. Its sails, clearly for show, were of a beautiful red and cream stripes.

Harry had a book about sailing ships that showed that wizarding sailing ships traveled under the waters of the ocean instead of upon it. This was done because it was far too difficult to keep such ships hidden from the Muggle world.

"Daddy! Daddy! Can we go closer? Please?" begged Harry.

Severus quickly consulted his pocket watch. "We have a few minutes to spare, but give me your hand and stick close to me. It is very busy down here."

Harry took his father's hand and couldn't help his skip-jumping frenetics as they made their way closer to the ship.

Severus had to admit to his own awe of the beautiful brigantine. It was painted red, orange, and black and heavily trimmed in gold. A part of him yearned to remain on Solonus since ships had once been a wonderful escapist fantasy for him as a child. Before going to Hogwarts, he had indulged in writing stories to escape his parents arguments. He loved writing sea stories about sailors, pirates, and great sea monsters. He could well relate to Harry's excitement and smiled down indulgently at his son.

The gangplank was busy with sailors in smart looking uniforms of heavy cotton or wool moving between ship and dock as they loaded up supplies.

"How come they don't use magic, daddy?" asked Harry and Severus had to wonder as well.

"Magic isn't always the most efficient method, boy," came a rich, gravelly accented voice behind them. They turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a long, red coat, black trousers, and highly polished black boots. The man's skin was deeply tanned, and weathered, showing that he practically lived on a ship. "Joseph Slope, proud captain of the Phoenix," he introduced himself.

"Severus Snape, and this is my son, Harry." Severus bowed towards the other wizard, but Harry, used to the Muggle way of shaking hands, stuck out his hand towards the captain.

Slope solemnly shook the little boy's hand. "How do you fare, young Master Harry? Will you be a sailor someday?" Slope's grey eyes twinkled with his jest.

Harry smiled, "It might be fun, but I want to make potions like my dad does. He's the best Potions Master in England."

The captain nodded, and smiled at both Harry and Severus. The boy's love and pride in his father was radiant. He then crouched down to Harry's height, "A ship is always in need of a good Potions Master, Master Harry. If someday you need a place, don't forget me or my ship."

He rose to his feet and tipped his hat. "Master Snape, Master Harry, may the day bring you both joy and good fortune." He swept away and up the gangplank.

Seeing the adulation in Harry's eyes at the retreating ship's captain, Severus felt an unwelcome twinge of jealousy in his belly. He put the kibosh on the jealousy and gently tugged his son's hand. "Our boat will be arriving soon, Harry."

Departing the busy-ness of the brigantine's crew, Severus and Harry walked over to a slightly quieter area. They watched as a rattletrap of a contraption chugged its way in the bay over to the dock. Shouting and cursing came from a rather sooty, sweaty man on the boat who appeared to be taking his temper out on what appeared to be a pot-bellied stove right in the middle of the boat.

Severus' heart sunk as he saw the boat begin to dock and he vowed to string Echo up from the olive tree when they returned home for she was the one who recommended he charter this boat- that's being polite!- for their trip.

A sudden belch from the pot-bellied stove spewed soot and steam up into the air. The grimy boat owner shouted, kicked the stove viciously then took an equally grimy red handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his neck with it.

"You Snape?" asked the filthy man.

"Are you Mr. Walnut?" Severus asked distastefully.

"Folks call me Harley. Your kid?" He grinned down at Harry.

"My son, Harry. Mr. Walnut, this..." Severus stared at the impossible steamboat. "Is this really a reliable transport?"

"Yer goin' into inland waters, Snape. This boat's traveled every conceivable waterway between here and Africa. She's tetchy, to be sure, has bad breath, and farts even worse, but where ya wanna go, she can getcha there. You ain't gonna find no fine fancy that'll go where Livingston goes. So, get yer carcasses on board so we can get going!"

Harry started to do as Harley said, but Severus caught him around the waist. "C'mon, dad! This is a real adventure kind of boat."

Wondering at his judgment- Obviously grossly impaired, at the moment- he handed Harry to the walking dirtball, and followed.

"Set up under the canopy, there," Harley indicated an area of clutter and wooden benches with old, worn cushions upon them under a canopy that might have been red at one time. "Make any magic ye'd like for yer comfort."

Severus cast a few cleaning spells and transfigured the benches into more comfortable chairs to sit in. The boat suddenly lurched as its engine coughed to life and he caught Harry before he took a tumble that would have broken his nose. Harley's colourful language blistered the air as the steam engine/pot-bellied stove belched, signaling they were on their way.

"Harry, if I catch you repeating- ever- any of that language, you will be dining on soap for a very long time. Understood?" Harry nodded rapidly.

The trip away from the docks and out of the bay was a slow one and held little excitement for Harry. When they began to skirt the navigable waters around the island of Solonus, Harry's eyes popped open at the sites they chugged past.

Harley ducked under the canopy and grabbed a jug of water. He drank some of it, then poured some on his red handkerchief and mopped his face and neck with the cloth.

"I see ya already made yerselves at home. Magic's handy that way, ain't it?" He reached over, ruffled Harry's hair, and Severus made a mental note to make certain the child washed his hair later tonight.

"Don't you use magic, Mr. Walnut?" Severus asked somewhat politely. By the state of this boat and its general air of clutter and filth, the man obviously rarely used magic.

"I'm a Squib, Snape. 'Sides, I don't need it. Old fashioned elbow grease gets the job well enough done and since my passengers are almost always wizardin' folk, any real spots of trouble are easily take care of. Livingston's got a few handy spells, though, like unlimited fresh water, self-cleaning hull, cooling charm under this shade, and if we need the sails, it's got a nice little wind spell. That's got me out of a few tight spots."

A slight hitch grabbed Harley's attention and he turned to deliver a swift kick to the stove. It let out a hideous sound which was followed loudly by Harry's complaint.

"That stinks!" He covered his nose, but it really didn't help.

Harley laughed and ruffled the boy's hair again. "Nature of the beast, kid. C'mere, you wanna help me drive this boat?"

Harry quickly glanced at his father for permission. Severus waved his hand. "Go ahead." He watched as Harry jumped up from his chair and went to follow Harley as he led the boy around the confines of the steamboat. Severus glared. Harry wouldn't need a bath by the end of the day, he'd need dipping in a strong disinfectant.

It was a slow, but not wholly unpleasant journey to the other side of Solonus; for Harry. Within minutes Harry was as sooty and shiny with sweat as Harley Walnut was. He also seemed to be invisibly attached to the man as he followed him around the boat and helped to navigate the short steamboat around the curves and points of the island. Harry even got to kick the pot-bellied stove, which he learned Harley had named Wheezy. Harry had used one foul word with one very enthusiastic kick, but a sharp reminder from his father of the soap bar waiting at home, and Harry kept his insults towards Wheezy something more palatable.

"Take that you gassy, smokey, fart machine!" Harry whooped and kicked the stove. Harley clapped him heavily upon the back.

"That put the old maid in 'er place, Harry!" he chortled and then coughed.

Harley suddenly stopped laughing and stared towards the island. Harry, puzzled, watched the frozen Squib, and then let out a yelp as Harley pushed him under the canopy.

"My son, the walking grease pit," huffed Severus. "Sit down, Harry, and try not to add to the filth. I've a suspicion we're heading inland soon."

"Right ya are, guvnor!" shouted Harley as he trotted past.

Harry and Severus watched as the man kicked, shouted, and made as much noise as the steamboat did. There was a grinding of gears, a belch of soot and steam, and a groaning that seemed to come from the depths of hell. The ride, which had been relatively smooth, grew rougher as they moved inland towards a stretch of water that disappeared within a cavern of intertwined olive trees.

"Persephone's Bridal Path!" shouted Harley as he pointed at the dark canopy of trees. "Legend has it that this is the path young Persephone walked as she went to meet 'er 'usband, the God of Death 'imself, Hades."

Harry whispered, a bit scared, "Is that true, dad? Are we going to see Death?"

"Not at all, Harry. Those stories that Miss Granger gave you are myths. They're not real."

A few minutes later the little boy became queasy from the rough handling the waves put the steamboat through. Looking a bit green he curled up on his side. Severus, always prepared withdrew an Anti-Nausea Potion from his robes. He quickly administered it and then worked on cleaning some of the soot and grime from his son.

The sun that had warmed them while they were out on the open ocean abruptly vanished to be replaced by heavy shade and uncomfortably cool temperatures. They had just gone beneath the olive trees.

The waves were gone and their travel was much smoother now as they chugged along through the curious corridor of green. After ten minutes of such slow, almost drifting travel, Harley choked the engine and it coughed off. Tossing out a coil of rope, Harley leapt off the boat to the shore and finally stopped its drift by tying the rope to a tree.

"M'kay, Snape. Yer on yer own from here. Land ain't my oil. Dusk's in five and half hours, that give you four before I want us to weigh anchor. Ye don't come back, I'll stay one night before I leave ye behind. Hope ye find yer patch o'gold."

Severus collected his son, stepped out of the boat, and caught Harry as Charlie handed him over. "Thank you, Mr. Walnut. We shall endeavor to be on time."

Harley pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapped out one, had it soon lit and was puffing on it as he took his ever present, filthy handkerchief, and wiped it over his neck. He watched the stiff wizard, and his exuberant son, trudge over the twisting roots of dozens of olive trees until they disappeared.