It came as no small irony to Harry Potter how he once dreaded 'coming home' to Privet Drive for the summer. Hell, truth was he hated it, still did. But this year, as much as he loathed the Dursley's and their constant harassment, the desire to escape Hogwarts and the wizarding world had overshadowed all else.

This had been quite literally, the worst year of Harry's life. Ever since he learned that he was a wizard at the age of eleven, Harry had become all too aware of the ever threatening presence of Lord Voldemort.

After all, the bastard came very close to affecting his return during Harry's first two terms. And although his third and fourth terms had been far from uneventful, the impending return of the dark wizard had been the least of worries. He should have known better.

The overly thin and shirtless teenager was, at present, on his knees in his aunt's back rose garden. The weed that he was currently wrestling with was determined to win its fight with Harry. Harry had other ideas.

"Ugh!" he grunted as he yanked at a particularly stubborn thistle. The weed suddenly gave way, but not before it had its revenge by making sure its aggressor landed on his arse by the force of his efforts.

Harry hastily pulled off his worn gardening glove and began to suck on the blood now oozing from his right forefinger. With his left hand, he rubbed his bruised bum.

"Damn it." He really didn't damn the pain. In all actuality, he welcomed it. Anything to get his mind off of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Lord Voldemort, and most of all, Cedric Diggory.

Yes, this summer Harry welcomed the physical pain that was always assured by his return to the home of his aunt and uncle.

Whether that pain came from the never ending list of unpleasant and backbreaking chores given to him by Aunt Petunia or the inevitable pain he would feel at the hands of Dudley and Uncle Vernon, anything was better than the mental anguish of thinking about the return of Voldemort and the death of Cedric, and knowing that it was all his fault. Something deep down inside Harry was trying to tell him that the events of the past year were not his fault. But Harry's conscience would hear nothing of it. He opted to literally work away his guilt if he could.

Harry could stand the hard work. Harry could stand emotional and physical neglect. After fourteen years, it had become survival instinct.

He was quite used to going a day or two with little or nothing to eat. He had become almost stoically accustomed to Vernon's verbal vitriol and tended to shrug off his none-to-gentle manhandling. He instinctively tried to shake the sting from his right hand.

Harry reasoned if he could survive a Crucio at the hands of Voldemort, he could definitely handle the occasional cuff from the back of his Uncle Vernon's hand.

Paradoxically, Harry was relishing his work in the hot July sun. It was nearly thirty-seven degrees centigrade and sweat was pouring off him in torrents.

All afternoon, his blood, sweat, and the occasional tear would mix with the soil of Aunt Petunia's rose garden and quickly evaporate in the unrelenting heat.

Unconsciously, he was trying to purge himself. Ever since Voldemort's 'rebirth', Harry felt absolutely filthy, and this feeling of filth penetrated much further than mere skin deep. Harry thought back to that day after Cedric was killed.

After the Triwizard Tournament, Harry took an hour long shower in the hottest water he could stand without actually blistering his own skin. No matter how hard he tried, he could neither scrub nor scrape the feeling of Voldemort's touch off of him. The sight of seeing Harry return to his dorm with his skin still red and still literally steaming worried his best friend Ron to no end.

"Bloody hell Harry" Ron was stunned, "What did you do to yourself mate."

Harry stared at him blankly "What do you mean?"

"Well blimey Harry…you look like a Chinese Fireball," Ron looked a little unsure of himself, but he asked Harry anyway, "Mate…are you alright?"

Harry was by no means 'alright', but he did not know how to tell his friend that at this particular time. He just took an hour long shower and he still felt dirty.

By the time Harry reached platform nine and three-quarters, he was ready to part company with Ron and Hermione, at least for the time being. His two best friends were practically speechless with worry for him. They both promised to write him, along with Ron's additional promise that Harry could come to the Burrow as soon as Headmaster Dumbledore said Harry was able. Hopefully, they would all be beyond the awkwardness by then.

Snapping himself back to the present, Harry took a minute to look at his bloody and callused hands. The threadbare gardening gloves that he had been wearing certainly did little to protect his hands. Just as well. Harry walked over to the garden hose and let the water run until it cooled down and started to wash the blood and grime off of his abused hands.

"Ssss!" he hissed and gasped all at once as the cool water made contact with his raw flesh.

Once his hands were clean, the pain began to numb and Harry took a long cool drink. Once his thirst was satiated, he drenched his head and his sunburned arms in order to cool himself.

He was glad that Vernon had not come home yet. On an abnormally hot day such as today, Aunt Petunia may reluctantly begrudge Harry a cool-down, but upon realising how sunburned he was, he did not want to risk a clout from his ill-tempered and irrational uncle.

After nursing his injury and having the return of these unwelcome and morose thoughts, Harry chucked is gloves to the side, walked back over to the rose garden, and with his bare hands and doggedly returned to his weeding.

Harry had to take out his frustrations on something.

With a nearly maniacal gleam in his eyes, he lightly chuckled as he imagined every single thistle and dandelion trembling at the thought of its inevitable and impending doom.

Harry wondered what the bloody hell was going on. The wet flannel he was using to nurse his bruised and swollen eye was beginning to warm, so he turned it over so the cooler side would now face his tender skin.

For the first time in the two weeks since he returned from Hogwarts, Harry found himself locked in his small room and tending to the results of the backside of Vernon's hand to his face.

Since returning to Privet Drive, for the most part Harry had managed to avoid the Dursley's by plodding through the never ending list of chores. He did this without complaint and had managed to keep the events from this past spring from plaguing him too much.

Surprisingly enough, the summer was quiet despite the return of Lord Voldemort. Although he found this somewhat curious, Harry was grateful. It made easier to concentrate on the here and now and avoid all of the painful recollections of the past.

Harry also was aware that Sirius and his friends were probably worried beyond distraction by now. They had all sent him posts, but he had neglected to open up the first one, much less bother to send replies. He was desperate to avoid anything that might remind him of the death of Cedric.

The only post Harry dared to open was from the Headmaster. It was short and cryptic.

Harry,

Please be prepared to leave Privet Drive by Tuesday next. Members of the Order will be along to escort to headquarters. From there you will be escorted to a safe location where you will spend the remainder of your summer. Hoping this post finds you well.

A.D.

Harry did not know what "The Order" was nor who belonged to it, but he was sure those questions would be answered in due time. Harry assumed that he would be spending the rest of his time at the Burrow. He also assumed the note's cryptic nature was due to the fear that it may be intercepted.

In truth, Harry was quite apathetic as to where he spent the summer. Harry was quite apathetic to a great many things lately, and if he were to be honest with himself, he was not looking forward to Mrs Weasley's codling or the solemn looks of worry that were sure to be plastered upon the countenances of his friends. Well… Harry was quite apathetic to that too, or so he tried to convince himself.

Harry supposed he could spend his entire summer with Snape and not give a rat's arse. Harry felt a little shudder up his spine at the thought, as if a rabbit had just ran across his grave. Then again-a summer with the greasy git… Ugh… Nobody could be apathetic to that!

Harry leaned back against his flat, threadbare pillow on his thin, lumpy bed, in his small dark room. Why were Dementors in Little Whinging, he wondered.

Today, for the first time all summer it had not been unbearably hot. In fact, it had been unseasonably cool. The unrelenting sun had finally acquiesced to the threatening storm clouds. For the first time since returning from school Harry had some free time, due to the fact that he had no outdoor chores today and all of his schoolbooks were locked in the cupboard, making his attending to his summer homework somewhat impossible.

Harry had a sinking feeling that he should have stayed close to Number Four today, but he did feel the unquenchable need for a change of scenery. As a result, the day quickly descended from being merely gloomy into utter chaos in the span of a few short hours. But then, that was usually par for the course in the life of Harry Potter.

First, despite all of Harry's efforts to avoid them, Duddikins and his little band of sycophants managed to find him...well...at least Dudley had. They had not noticed Harry in the small neighbourhood park. Dudley and his little gang were too busy huffing down a pack of fags they had nicked from the corner market. Harry had managed to avoid a confrontation, but while walking home alone, Dudley caught notice of him and stalked Harry on the way back to Privet Drive. After becoming frustrated by Harry's lack of response to his threats, Dudley took on a new tactic and began to taunt Harry about Cedric Diggory. "Who's Cedric, Harry…your boyfriend?"

Apparently Dudley had heard Harry's night terrors and was going to take the opportunity to mock his cousin.

BIG MISTAKE!

Harry grabbed his stunned cousin by his beef neck, and with a strength that startled both boys, he violently forced Dudley into a nearby ally and threw him against the wall. He had his wand pressed hard enough into Dudley's temple that it was sure to leave a bruise.

"How do you know about Cedric?" the words were forced between Harry's clenched teeth and barely audible, as Harry could scarcely contain his rage.

Harry's nose curled has he caught the pungent odour of urine. This threw Harry off guard. He was in a rage, but he also knew that no matter how angry or threatening he could be, there was no way in hell he could ever scare the piss out of Dudley Dursley.

His obese cousin's face turned ashen. Harry knew that he was not the cause of the larger boy losing control of his faculties. Dudley looked beyond Harry, eyes frozen, on a much greater, yet unseen fear.

Harry turned quickly, following his cousin's gaze and saw the terror that Dudley could only feel. Three Dementors were quickly approaching. OH SHITE!

"RUN DUDLEY!"

Harry turned to run but stopped almost immediately when he realised that Dudley was not right behind him. His cousin did not have the advantage of seeing the attackers and ran straight into a waiting Dementor. The rotting creature was in the process of removing its hood.

Harry did not have time to think and he acted on instinct. He pointed his wand directly at the wraith and cried, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A great white flash and the bucking of spectral antlers, and the Dementors had fled as quickly and silently as they appeared. Harry had barely been able to conjure the image of him and Sirius escaping on Buckbeak last year.

The trip back to Privet Drive had been surreal. The whole situation was so confusing, Harry couldn't process it all. And where the hell did Mrs Figg come from anyway? And how the hell does she know Dumbledore? Harry could barely remember the walk home much less the details of the conversation with his old babysitter.

When they finally reached Number Four, and after Uncle Vernon noticed the bruise on Dudley's left temple and his son's near comatose and urine soaked state, Harry was violently knocked back into reality by the back of Vernon's hand throwing him unceremoniously into the opposite wall of the foyer.

This assault on his son was the last straw. Vernon had enough of Harry's freakishness and wanted him out of the house-tonight.

What followed were enough posts and howlers in the space of the next thirty minutes to make Harry's head spin.

The first one came from the Ministry, informing Harry that he had been expelled for the use of underage magic outside of school.

Another letter immediately followed the first. It was from Arthur Weasley, ordering Harry to stay put and not surrender his wand to anyone.

Then another post from the Ministry arrived, stating that Harry had not been expelled as of yet, but would have to stand before a board of inquiry come August.

It was followed by a post from Sirius, reiterating Mr Weasley's point. Next, (Old Nick must be begging for an overcoat tonight, for it was certainly a cold night in Hell) Aunt Petunia received a cryptic howler from Professor Dumbledore. Whatever that one was about, Vernon was not throwing Harry out of the house that night. Not as if Harry gave a wit one way or the other.

The final letter was to Harry from the Headmaster himself. Once again telling Harry to remain at his aunt and uncle's house, and members of the Order would pick him up in two-day's time, on Tuesday.

Harry woke up to a room as dark as pitch. For a split second he wondered if Vernon had knocked him blind, but his good eye soon adjusted to the dark. He fell asleep whilst going over the day's events in his head. He woke up with a semi-dry flannel plastered to his face. Harry peeled it away and absentmindedly touched his hand to his swollen eye.

Harry startled when he heard tapping at his bedroom window. He looked at his digital clock. The red block numbers read 12:00.

Midnight? Who would send him an owl at midnight?

Then it dawned on him. It was his birthday. He supposed Ron and Hermione were simply anxious to send him his gifts. Harry honestly did not care that it was his birthday, but if he was going to get rid of the blasted owl that kept tapping on the pane, he had better open the bloody window.

Harry stumbled over to window. *Crack!*

"Ouch," he cried under his breath as he stubbed his little toe on his corner of his desk.

His throbbing appendage did nothing to improve his already surly mood. "Couldn't this have waited until later?" he groused to the startled the owl. Harry's jaw was locked so tight, he thought he would lose a couple teeth for certain.

When he opened the window, the spotted barn owl simply blinked at him. He gave Harry an insolent little hoot, hopped in the room, and raised a tethered talon, solemnly presenting its package.

"Thanks," Harry's mood had lightened a little now that the pain in his toe began to subside and he scratched to owl on its head. Lucky for him, Hedwig was asleep.

Unlike most owls, snowy owls were diurnal, and she was exhausted from her long day of hunting. She wouldn't appreciate him giving affection to a strange owl.

Harry removed the owl's burden, and quietly gave it one of Hedwig's treats and sent it on its way.

Harry was expecting a package from Ron or Hermione-even possibly Hagrid. But one look and he knew this package couldn't possibly be from one of the most likely suspects. It was a small weathered box with a faded envelope attached. It's was seal embossed with a fleur-de-lis—a lily.

Harry whispered aloud in his confusion, "Mum?"

He recognised the very same emblem from a jumper his mother had worn in an old photograph. Harry had studied the photo album Hagrid had gifted him at the end of his first year. He committed the slightest details to memory.

His hand quivered as he turned the letter over and gently stroked the elegant script that read simply:

Harry Potter

Harry did not know if his hand would ever stop shaking nor if he would remember to breathe, but somewhere he mustered the courage to open the letter.

Hello, Harry love,

Harry stopped. She called him 'Harry Love.' Is that what she would have called him had she lived? Harry shook himself out of the maudlin thought. He wanted to know what was so important that his mother had to write him from beyond the grave.

You cannot know how sad I am to know that you may be reading this letter. If you are, it means that James and I are dead. There are not enough tears in the world to be shed knowing that we have left you alone.

But if you are reading this letter, it is your 15th birthday, and James and I hope to right the terrible injustices we bestowed upon the people we love.

I know that this letter will only raise a flood of questions for you. The answers you seek, however, are far too complicated and much too personal to compile in a mere missive.

So I have sent you a gift…of sorts. Within the phial, you will find answers to your questions.

But first, you must find a man. His name is Severus Snape, a Potion's Master. If he is still alive, together you must go to Albus Dumbledore. He will know what to do with the phial's contents. Severus should be with you. He too, deserves answers.

Harry, I hope you and Severus can someday forgive James and me for what we have done. Just know that what we did, was done out of love.

We pray that you both find the peace you deserve.

Love Always,

Your Mummy, Lily

Harry could not stop shaking. He felt as if he were hit by a rogue Bludger. In his hands was a tangible piece of his long dead mother. She had touched this.

He brought the parchment to his face, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. He could smell the mustiness of age on the parchment and the sharp tang of old ink.

But there was something else there. So faint, it could almost be imaginary.

"Mummy," Harry sighed, as he began to feel the heat and sting of his tears as they ran down his already abused face.

Then he suddenly snapped out of his melancholy.

What was his mum getting on at? Harry had not had any questions about his parents in quite some time.

All of his professors had always regaled Harry with heroic stories of his parents. Sirius and Remus were always keen to tell him what a great man his father was and Harry was proud to know that he was so very much like him. And why did his mum refer to his dad as 'James'? Well… there was the first of one of those mysterious questions that his mother alluded to.

And what in the name of Merlin's bollocks did Snape have to do with any of it? Why would Mum and Dad have to answer to Snape, especially if this trespass was committed as an act of love? Harry didn't think that he would like the answer to that question. But it would plague him to distraction for the rest of his life if he did not find out.

Not to mention she thought it possible that Snape would be dead by now...but assumed that the ancient Headmaster would still be alive.

What phial was his mum referring to? He suddenly remembered the box he had tossed on his bed. Harry grabbed the box and hastily opened it, absentmindedly crumbling the plain brown wrapping and discarding it to the floor.

"What is it?" he asked of whatever ghost that may be listening. Was it a potion? Is that why he needed Snape?

Pondering the silvery opaque liquid inside, Harry sighed as he muttered and asked again, "What is it? What a strange sort of gift."

Severus Snape, Potion's Master, Head of the Noble House of Slytherin, Master Spy, and all-around Snarky Git, could not recall the last time he had been so humiliated and taken for such a fool.

"As if my life has not become complicated enough," Severus growled under his breath.

At present, he was striding back to his quarters through the ill lit and dankly cool dungeons after a rather unpleasant meeting with the Headmaster. The violence of his billowing robes was an outward manifestation of his rapidly growing frustration.

How on earth the senile old coot had manipulated Severus into agreeing to his plans was totally beyond the Potions Master. If it wasn't for the Headmaster's overt favouritism for the House of the Lion, one would swear that Albus Dumbledore, champion of all things Gryffindorish, was in all actuality, a Slytherin.

Albus was all too aware of Severus' sense of honour, and had no qualms what so ever about using it to his advantage. Tagged along with Severus' loyalty to the old wizard, there was not much the Headmaster could not ask of the man.

"I should have been a Bloody Hufflepuff," Severus muttered to himself.

He stopped abruptly at that comment. He was in the shock that he had actually verbalised it, as the vague memory of the Sorting Hat actually considering that very notion snuck itself into his consciousness. Severus growled even deeper as he silently cursed his mentor, as if Albus had actually made the suggestion himself.

Well, that little jaunt down memory lane certainly did nothing to improve Severus' mood. He shoved that memory behind his shields with all the contempt it deserved. He then continued to his quarters at an even quicker pace, as if trying to outrun the day's unpleasantness. His ebony robes billowing so madly, he looked as a passing thunder storm, and felt every bit like one too.

He couldn't help but to wonder what the hell he had gotten himself into.

Only two hours prior, Severus was in his private lab nestled in his quarters. He was anxious to complete the potions that Poppy would need for the following term. Severus wanted to make sure that his summer school obligations were met and at least that burden taken off of his shoulders before his life descended into total chaos.

Severus was in the process of cleaning his store room in preparation for the new potions he would soon be brewing. He foreswore his usual robes in favour of a black linen shirt, with his sleeves rolled up past his forearms and black linen trousers. His mark was blazoned on his left forearm. It was something he had to become re-accustomed to.

The mark had been dormant for fourteen years-invisible to the naked eye...until this past spring, when it literally became painfully obvious reminder that he Dark Lords return was indeed imminent. Severus was certain he wasn't the only one who had nearly forgotten its existence. He had willingly taken the mark, and though he had never been ashamed of his reasons, he had forever regretted them. He hated having the Mark stare at him-reminding him constantly of his sins. As if Severus hadn't constantly reminded himself enough. But he work was doing was dirty and sweaty, and there was no reason he could not be comfortable in his own quarters. There was little he could do to keep the Mark from controlling his fate...but Severus was determined to win some battles, no matter how small or immaterial.

Whilst engaging in the mindless chore he allowed himself the luxury of letting his thoughts wander. It had only been a few short weeks since the most dreaded fear amongst the Wizarding world had come to pass. The Dark Lord had returned to his corporal form.

Ironically, nobody was more terrorised about this development than Riddle's former minions. Those surviving Death Eaters that had managed to stay out of Azkaban had, for the most part, settled down into relatively normal and mundane lives. Many still had the old Darwinian prejudices concerning purebloods-vs.-half-blood and Wizard-vs.-Muggle. But those who had half a brain cell kept these ideas tightly ensconced in their small, tight and exclusive circles, mostly out of fear of retribution from the general populace.

Even Lucius Malfoy was not exactly thrilled about the prospect of playing Chief Brown-noser and Arse-kisser once again to his newly arisen master. Malfoy had been quite content to play Chief Brown-noser and Arse-kisser to the Ministry, thank you very much, as long as it was beneficial to his quest for political power. After all, why raise a sweat with violent bloodletting about the countryside when one could achieve the same goal by manipulation from within the system.

After the Chamber of Secrets incident just over two years ago, Severus had made a point to find out what Lucius' true intentions were. Severus had been invited to afternoon tea the following week. After tedious and long winded tirades about the ineptitude of the Headmaster and the audacity of Potter releasing his house elf, (Severus could not help but to chuckle internally at that little prank. It was a plot worthy of a Slytherin, but he would cut out his own tongue before confessing that to a soul) Lucius finally confessed his motives behind Riddle's diary.

Malfoy's intentions were far from the resurrection of the Dark Lord. Lucius was unaware of the significance of the Riddle diary. His aim was to discredit Arthur Weasley after all of his embarrassing raids on homes (especially his home) in search of dark objects that summer.

Weasley would be hard pressed to explain how a personal possession of the Dark Lord ended up in the hands of his youngest child and in all honesty, Lucius and confided that he was glad to be rid of it.

It was Malfoy's house elf, Dobby, who recognised the object for what it truly was. Elf magic was little understood by the Wizarding world. When Lucius refused to listen when his servant tried to warn him about the significance of the diary, Dobby took it upon himself to warn Potter, knowing that it would eventually be Potter who would ultimately be the target of the evil that dwelled within the tome.

Unfortunately, bound as he was to the Malfoy's, Dobby was unable to give any specific details of the dangers that threatened the school that year. His master had purposely put the book into the possession of Ms Weasley. Dobby was duty bound to keep the existence of the diary secret, so the elf's warnings were cryptic and ultimately misunderstood.

Malfoy had no idea of the diary's connection with the chamber or the monster that waited within. He had no desire to release a Basilisk...of all creatures. After all, his only son attended Hogwarts. Although Muggleborns were the targets, who's to say that the occasional pureblood would not fall victim to the beast.

Fortunately for Lucius, he was not intent upon the resurrection of the Dark Lord. If he was, Albus would have dragged Malfoy to Azkaban himself and demanded the Dementors Kiss then and there.

"Hell hath no fury like Albus Dumbledore when he's truly in a snit," Minerva had been known to say.

As for Severus, he had no delusions about the Dark Lords disappearance. He knew the the Dark Lord had somehow insured himself against death. Just because he did not understand how, did not make it any less true.

He had warned Albus about the possibility of the Dark Lord's return being sooner rather than later. As his once faded and dormant scar slowly came to life, Severus knew that all hell would soon break loose. He had been mentally and physically preparing himself ever since Crouch Jr. had cast the first Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer.

Though Severus has always been a powerful and skilled Occlumens, he knew that he would need to hone his skills before he could again face The Dark Lord as a spy. The Headmaster had been instrumental in helping him to do so. Severus was actually the more powerful Occlumens, but Albus' skills as a Leglilmens rivalled the Dark Lord's. And although Albus would not mention it until the deed was done, Snape knew the day would come when he would be asked to resume his duties as a spy. He had hoped that the day would be later as opposed to sooner. Oh well...sucks to be him.

Before Potter had returned from the graveyard, Severus knew. He had not actually been in attendance for the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. At the time he was in his personal chambers, pacing. For the first time in fourteen years, he was frightened. He could feel through his Mark that the time for the Dark Lord's imminent return was drawing nigh. He did not wish for anyone to see the pain and fear that he knew he could not completely hide.

When his Mark began to burn with the summons, Severus ran down to the Quidditch pitch to inform the Headmaster only to come face to face with the unimaginable. The Diggory boy was dead. Potter was inconsolable, protecting the older boy's body whilst screaming about the Dark Lord's return through his uncontrollable sobs.

For a fleeting moment, Severus felt sympathy for Potter. He would now become the focal point of the Dark Lord's rage. It was not an enviable position to be in.

Severus found it more than a little disconcerting to know that he too, would most likely meet a sticky end at the hands of the demented megalomaniac. Whatever that end may be, he was far from naïve-it would be most... unpleasant.

But the game was now afoot. Along with potion making and class preparation, he was going to have to balance his time between meetings with The Order and Death Eaters.

"Does anyone else have these worries," he moaned to himself. Severus very much doubted it.

He did not exactly know how his part would play out. However he did know this much, he would play is role well, and play out it until the bitter end.

Severus was eyeing an old phial of sleeping draught, checking it for colour, when he heard his Floo come to life in the sitting room. "Severus?" he heard Albus' disembodied voice call out.

Severus came out of the lab with the phial still in hand. "Yes, Headmaster?" he said with an all-suffering sigh of someone who had been frequently annoyed by such interruptions.

"Would you please meet me in my office at your earliest convenience?" Albus asked. His eyes were sparkling all the more through the flames of the Floo.

The Headmasters request sounded innocent enough, but Severus knew that it interpreted as, "Make yourself presentable and make haste; I have another favour to ask of you."

Severus gave an exaggerated huff, "If it is not urgent, I only have another fifteen minutes before I'm finished here. Give me a chance to freshen up and I will be there shortly."

"Fair enough, my boy. I'll expect you in a half-hour," Dumbledore's vanished from his fire.

"Lemon drop, Severus?" Albus was shaking the little tin, offering it to Severus from across his desk.

Severus raised his eyebrow and intoned dryly, "Albus, for all of your alleged wisdom, one would think that after all of these years, you would come to realise that I despise lemon drops."

Albus then poured out the tea then passed Severus his cup. "Then you will simply have to enlighten me as to what sweets you do prefer Severus," he gave Severus a cheeky smile. The Headmaster never stopped trying to elicit a response from Severus.

Severus took the proffered cup and rolled his eyes in exasperation "I assume you have something of importance to discuss with me Headmaster—other than my lack of a sweet-tooth?"

"Yes, always straight to the point aren't you, my dear boy," Albus settled himself in his ornate desk chair directly across from his Potions Master. He took a sip of his tea, looked at Severus before he bluntly said, "I need you to teach Harry Potter Occlumency this summer."

The timing couldn't have been worse. Severus had been sipping is own tea when Dumbledore's words hit him. It was as though he had been gut-checked. His body violently threw itself forward as Severus sprayed his tea right into his mentor's face.

"Come again, Headmaster?" Severus inquired, practically choking on the words and embarrassed at his reaction to them. He wondered if his last Crucio at the hands of the Dark Lord had somehow affected his hearing.

Far from being taken aback, the Headmaster simply spelled himself clean and chuckled, "Your reaction would indicate that you heard me perfectly well, Severus. And as I do not desire another shower at the present time, I will refrain from repeating myself."

Albus then looked up from what he was doing, those damnable blue eyes still twinkling, peering directly at Severus. "Though I must say you took my request far better than I initially thought you would."

Damn right he took Dumbledore's 'request' well. Had it been anyone else suggesting that he impart his precious knowledge on the Potter spawn he'd well…well he did not know how he would react. But it would be one damn nasty curse, you bet. Severus damned himself for being rendered speechless in his own head.

Severus flung himself into a squishy armchair by his Floo and pouted. "I'm not pouting!" he tried to convince himself. It did not work.

He had thrown every argument against teaching Occlumency to Potter at the Headmaster and the old man still managed to get his way.

Severus first tried by suggesting that Potter did not have the intelligence to learn the art.

The Headmaster pointed out the boy did relatively well in most of his subjects and was by no means anywhere near the bottom of his class.

Severus scoffed at that, but acquiesced the point nonetheless.

Then Severus argued that he would not have the spare time due to the fact that he must replenish Poppy's potions supply before term began.

The Headmaster countered that Poppy was qualified to brew most of the potions herself, and what she could not, well the school could purchase some of the more common medicinal potions (that made Severus' pride cringe).

Then Severus thought he had the coup-de-grace. "Albus, for Occlumency to be taught and learned effectively, there must be a certain intimacy. More like something akin to a master and apprentice relationship. I am afraid there is far too much animosity between Potter and myself for your suggestion to ever work."

That was when Albus went in for the kill. "That is why I intend to bring Harry to Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer, so the two of you may have a chance to bond."

"Bond with Potter?" Severus jeered, "That's about as bloody likely as Lucius Malfoy inviting the Granger girl's parents to the manor for tea and scones."

Albus simply smiled and popped another bloody lemon drop. "Anything is possible, Severus."

"Even if I was willing to take on such an idiotic venture-and I am not," Severus pointedly added, " Potter will never agree to your asinine scheme."

"We shall see, Severus...We shall see."

Now safely ensconced in his private chambers, away from the twisted schemes of ancient wizards and their bloody lemon drops, Severus wandlessly summoned a bottle of Johnny Walker Red (the Muggle elixir was much finer than anything Wizard or Elf made) and crystal tumbler. He poured himself two fingers of the amber liquid and downed it in one swallow.

He sat for a moment with his elbow propped on the arm of the chair and holding the glass to his forehead as he grimaced whilst the liquid burned its way down his throat until the pain eventually numbed.

He slammed the glass onto the small round end table. "Sometimes," he said aloud to whatever gods that ventured to care and bend an ear, "I truly hate my life!"

As much as Severus dreaded the thought of spending all of his free time with The-Boy-Who-Lived-to- Be-a-Royal-Pain-in-His-Arse all summer, he honestly looked forward to seeing the look on the mutt's face when the Albus dropped this particular little bombshell.

At present, the Inner Circle of the Order of the Phoenix was assembling at the long dining table that graced the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. That is, with the exception of Severus. He was seated in a far dark corner, practically hidden by the shadows.

Severus preferred to remain inconspicuous and ignored by the other members. At least until he had no choice but to become the inevitable centre of attention.

It was easy to remain unnoticed in this house. No matter how much Molly scrubbed the walls and cleaned the furniture, the place would never lose its dark aura. The Dark Magic that had taken place inside the walls of the house over the years seemed to permeate everything, physically manifesting itself into shadows that seemed to resist any attempt at illumination. It was if someone tossed Darkness Powder hither and yon.

And people think that my dungeons are gloomy, thought Severus as he gazed out at the congregation mulling around the dank kitchen. His own dungeons were as homey as the Burrow in comparison. The place was better suited as a Headquarters for Death Eaters than the Order of the Phoenix. Severus half expected Dementors to pop out of the woodwork at any given second.

Severus was also under no delusion that anyone would fancy sitting next to him. He was unpleasant and purposely rude, especially to people he considered of limited intelligence. Severus couldn't abide stupid people, and there were few in the room that he held in any regard. Not to mention, he simply was not trusted by many in the Order.

Severus would never admit it to anyone (including himself), but sometimes it really chapped his arse that most of his colleagues within The Order still questioned his loyalties.

After all, he had taken the Dark Mark with the encouragement of Albus Dumbledore. How many among the people gathered here at Grimmauld Place would ever make such a sacrifice for the Light. None...and they all knew it. Cowards.

And sacrifice Severus had. More than anyone would ever know. He had lost so much more than the innocence of his youth when he had taken the Dark Mark.

It was no surprise that Lucius Malfoy sought out Severus' skills as a potion maker. The Dark Lord had need of a skilled potioneer. Although Tom Riddle was an exceptional student in potions during his tenure at Hogwarts, at the time Riddle did not believe that potion making was a worthwhile pursuit. He preferred more "practical" subjects...like Divination. That fact alone should have raised alarms in Severus that the man was a bit...off. The Dark Lord opted to forego taking NEWT level courses Potions in favour of a less meaningful subject.

It was years after the demented frea…erm…Dark Lord… had begun his relentless pursuit for power that he realised how advantageous it would be to have a personal Potions Master. Severus' skill coupled with his Prince family history, not to mention that he was the favourite student of Albus Dumbledore, made him a highly sought after prize for He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named.

Albus knew that the Severus was an exceptional Occlumens. Albus had personally taught Severus the art, and found the he was natural at it. Severus had out-mastered his master before he had even left Hogwarts.

Albus had taken the young Severus under his wing when he realised how desperately he was trying to break himself from the dark past of his family. The Headmaster reached out to him with the hope of not repeating the same mistakes that he had made with the young Tom Riddle. Severus had accepted the Headmaster's guidance with the hope of becoming worthy of a certain beautiful redheaded witch.

Albus would eventually become aware that he had found a vital ally to help win the war. He realised that Severus would make the ideal spy. Severus' background would make him a believable addition to Voldemort's ranks. His keen intelligence, talent for subterfuge, and uncanny Occlumency skills would make him the perfect mole.

It was Severus who came up with the suggestion to infiltrate the Dark Lord's inner circle. His reasons were deeply personal, and he was determined to see the end of the twisted wizard. Even today, the thirst to see the Dark Lord meet his final doom was virtually all consuming. Severus would do anything to see the bastard would pay for his trespasses.

Now Dumbledore's spy was sitting in the corner of the dark kitchen at Number Twelve, waiting patiently for the Headmaster to arrive and give the news that would hit Black like a Hungarian Horntail's…well…tail.

Just then, Albus Dumbledore quietly entered the room, and his presence was immediately noticed. The obvious aura of the Headmaster's powerful magic would have been enough for any witch or wizard to look up and give their undivided attention. However, clad in garish velvet magenta robes, adorned with the signs of the Zodiac shaded in green, a blind man could not help but to see the old coot.

Where the bloody hell does the old man find his wardrobe, thought Severus as he looked bemusedly at his old mentor. He thought perhaps he should offer to develop a potion to cure the old man of his apparent colour blindness.

Albus took his seat at the head of the long table. Black had taken the chair directly to the Headmaster's right. Severus' eyes bored a hole into Black's head and he sneered at the audacity of the cur.

As far as Severus was concerned, Black was not a real member of The Order. Every other person in the room risked their life and the lives of their families' every day, whilst Black slobbed around the halls of his dreary house, safe from all harm.

But still, Black had loaned The Order the use of his home. Severus was certain that Black was simply attempting to elevate the importance of his position to the rest of The Order in a vain effort to make himself appear useful. Severus was not so easily fooled.

When The Headmaster settled himself in his chair, he gave a slight nod to his left. Remus Lupin was seated in the chair to the left of Dumbledore. As Sergeant at Arms he stood and announced rather formally, "This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix on Sunday, July 30th 1995 will now come to order. Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Warlock, presiding."

"Honestly Moony, do you have to piss about with all the pomp. Let's just get on with it," Sirius laughed and rolled eyes at his best friend.

"Language, Mr Black!" chastised Molly Weasley. She had been busy spelling refreshments for everyone.

Black apologized, looking quite sheepish. "Sorry Molly," Lupin sat back down, his faced scrunched with slight offence. He was only doing his job, after all.

"No need to be rude, Padfoot."

Albus intervened. "With no further ado, I shall get to the topic at hand," he announced almost too loudly, "I have managed to stall Harry's expulsion from Hogwarts for the time being, However, I was unsuccessful in convincing the Ministry to drop the charges on the basis of self-defence. His trial before the Wizengamot is scheduled for August 12th."

"A full trial? How can they do that?" asked a visibly upset Arthur Weasley. "How can the Ministry claim that it was anything other than self-defence?" he ranted as leaned into the table to be better seen by Albus. "After all, the boy and his cousin were attacked by Dementors!"

"It seems as if the Ministry is not totally convinced as to the validity of Harry's story," The Headmaster calmly stated, only the slight narrowing of his eyes gave any indication of his own indignation at the unfairness of it all.

Black cried out, as he sprang from his chair. He was obviously offended that the Ministry had essentially called his godson a liar. "To Hell with the Ministry! I'll kiss the south end of a northbound hippogriff before I see my godson railroaded!" His eyes indicated that he would curse anyone who dared challenge him.

Severus thought it would be worth some serious Galleons to see Black kiss the southbound side of a northbound hippogriff.

Albus reached out and put his hand on Black's forearm. "Sit down Sirius, there is no reason to upset yourself at this time. I will personally defend Harry. I promise you, they will not take his wand," he assured the brazen cur.

Black was still on his feet. "If I must, I will take him into hiding!" He was obviously unconvinced by the Headmaster.

The Headmaster warned Black, "I am sorry Sirius, but I will not allow you to do that. Such an action would be rash and too foolish to even contemplate," Black was still standing in defiance, refusing to yield his position.

Black was about to give a reply to the Headmaster that he may have regretted. "Sirius, sit down," Lupin said in a voice that was meant to calm his friend. Severus silently cursed the werewolf. He was so looking forward to the Headmaster's reaction. "The Headmaster means what he says. He will not allow Harry to be railroaded. You must trust Albus." Black slowly, yet reluctantly sat down.

"Rest assured Sirius, the Ministry will not get their hands on Harry," Albus continued as if the outburst never happened, "I have already made arrangements for Harry's safe keeping as well as additional training over the summer."

Here it comes, thought Severus. He was almost giddy with anticipation thinking about the look that would come over the mangy mutt's face. This was going to be good.

"What arrangements?" asked Black. "I thought Harry was staying here over the summer." Severus could tell that Black steeling himself for an answer that he was sure he wouldn't like.

"I have arranged for Harry to remain at Hogwarts until the term begins," the Headmaster stated as if nothing more need be said.

"I don't understand," said Black, obviously confused. "Why can't he remain here with me?"

"Because Harry will be learning under Master-Apprentice type conditions and Grimmauld Place is hardly conducive to the type of learning he requires."

"Master-Apprentice? How do you mean? And who exactly will be Harry's Master?" inquired Black, making no attempt to hide his irritation.

Albus simply said, "Severus will be responsible for Harry's care and tutelage this summer."

Black looked totally gob smacked. It was priceless. "Come again, Headmaster?"

"I seem to be asked that question quite a bit as of late," Albus said, barely suppressing his amusement.

Everyone else in the room looked as equally stunned as Black.

Then Severus finally spoke up. "The Headmaster said that Potter will be under my care Black. Are you deaf or did the doxies that infest this place lay eggs in your ears?" An ironic reply considering Severus' own reaction when he was told the same thing.

Everyone in the room became aware of Severus' presence at the same time. All heads, with the exception of Black's turned at once. Everyone was staring at Severus in stunned silence. Black was still glaring at the Headmaster.

Black then slowly stood up and turned towards Severus. His teeth were clenched and he hissed low and dangerously, "What did you say, Snivellus?"

"I said…"

""LIKE HELL HE WILL!" As Severus expected-Black lunged at him.

Kingsley Shacklebolt sprang from his seat next to Black and caught him by the waist. In that same second Lupin had bounded over the table with one leap,(quite impressive, Severus had to reluctantly admit to himself) helping the Auror to hold Sirius back while at the same time grabbing his friend's wand hand to keep him from cursing Snape.

All Hell had broken loose as the other members cried their indignation at once and tried to question the Headmaster above the chaos echoing off the walls.

Severus stood as silent and unmoving as a statue during the entire incident, his arms crossed with an amused grin gracing his countenance. It was every bit as good as he thought it would be. He chuckled so low and deeply, no one else could hear him.

The Headmaster had managed to get the other Order members to back off and take their seats with a promise that he would divulge as much as he was able as soon as everybody managed to calm themselves. His eyes gave a quick flash to Black.

Sirius Black had no intention of calming himself. When it became obvious to Dumbledore that nothing less than Severus' blood would placate the man, the Headmaster cast a quick sleeping spell upon the deranged mutt.

Lupin and Shacklebolt caught Black before he hit the floor. Black looked behind his shoulder to the Headmaster as he cradled his friend, "Was that really necessary Headmaster?"

Albus replied, "What do you think?"

"Never mind."

Remus had come back to the kitchens feeling thoroughly harassed. He had taken Sirius upstairs to bed only to be accosted by a quintet of curious and aggravated teens.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins, Fred and George, had been trying to listen in on the meeting only to be foiled by the Headmaster's Muffliato Charm, a nifty little trick that he had oddly enough, learned from Snape.

Then at the sight of seeing Sirius being led upstairs by Remus via a Mobilicorpus, they pestered Remus for answers like a murder of crows.

It took nearly thirty minutes to wrestle his way past the adolescents, get Sirius settled and then get back to the kitchen so he could get some answers to a whole hell of a lot of questions.

"Did you stop to read Black a bedtime story, Lupin?" Snape asked in his dry sarcastic manner, "You certainly took your own sweet time to return."

Remus shot him a look and was return an equally scathing jibe of his own, but thought better of it. Remus had his fill of immaturity for one day. He simply sat back at the table and waited for Albus to explain himself.

Most of the Order members had left. Only Albus, Severus, Professor McGonagall, Alastor Moody, the senior Weasleys, and himself remained.

Severus had joined the rest of the company at the table. Albus had bid him to take the chair recently vacated by Black. Severus obliged, but not before taking his wand and changing his chair out. Typical! He was not about to defile himself by sitting in the same seat as the" filthy mutt." The gesture did not go unnoticed by rest of the Order and it was obvious that Severus did not care.

Severus sat in the chair with his arms folded and angled slightly away from the Headmaster so he could face the others. He looked as though he had nothing to hide.

"Albus, would you care to enlighten the rest of us as to why you believe it a wise decision to leave Mr Potter in Severus' care?" inquired the Deputy Headmistress. "I thought you liked the boy. No offence," she nodded to Severus.

"None taken," Severus nodded back to his colleague. Apparently he had been wondering the same thing.

Albus sat up and spoke, "With Voldemort now returned to full power, Harry will be in more than physical danger. Although I am not at liberty to disclose my hypothesis, I have valid reasons to believe that he will be in danger from mental invasion. In order to keep Harry from disclosing any information that may be advantageous to our enemy, not to mention for the sake of his own sanity, I have asked Severus to teach Harry Occlumency this summer and Severus has been kind enough to agree."

"Humph" Severus' shoulders shrugged as he softly snorted and he gave Albus a fleeting glance.

"Why can't you teach him yourself, Headmaster?" asked Remus. He was purposefully looking directly at the Headmaster so he could avoid looking at Severus. "I do not claim to be by an expert at the Mind Arts, but isn't a certain level of trust needed between the Master and Apprentice for effective learning. After all," he continued, "It is no secret that Harry and Severus can't stand each other."

"Sorry Lupin, I've already tried that one." Severus said mostly to himself. Remus just gave him a confused stare.

Albus answered, "As much as I would gladly teach Harry myself, I am bowing to Severus' superior skills in this matter. I also have obligations that will take me away from Hogwarts for extended periods. I simply will not have the time to teach him."

"Will he be safe?" Remus asked lowering his voice the Headmaster.

"Why Lupin," sniffed Severus, "I am truly touched by your concern," he sniffed again rubbing the corner of is eye, as if brushing away a non-existent tear.

"Not you- -you idiot. I was speaking of Harry!" Remus bit back in frustration. He still did not like the idea.

"I know of whom you speak, Wolf," Severus was serious now. His voice low and silky, his delivery deliberate, and his face blank of expression, as if speaking to one of his 'dunderhead' students. "Though I agree with your assessment of the animosity between Potter and myself, I am also perfectly aware of what is required to teach Occlumency. I will not lie to you and say that it will be easy. I am not totally convinced myself that Potter and I can move beyond our open hostility for each other. However, I assure you this… I am willing to do what it takes to make this endeavour successful. If Mr Potter is respectful, willing, and has half the brain you claim he has, I have no doubt that this can work."

Then as a postscript Severus quickly added, "And I… promisenottochophimintopotioningredients."

Everyone stared bemusedly at Severus. Remus and his fellow Order members may not have been happy with the situation, but Albus' and Severus' logic was sound. They each silently, yet reluctantly realised that this was the best course of action.

Molly Weasley sounded in, "Albus I will agree to this, as long as you promise that if for any reason this scheme of yours seems destined to fail, you will send Harry straight to The Burrow."

"Fair enough Molly," said Albus, as if she actually had a say in the matter.

"However, if that unfortunate situation should arise, it will be up to Harry. He may prefer to stay here with his godfather." Molly looked deflated as she nodded in agreement.

"Now Alastor," said Albus, thus announcing that the subject of Harry's Occlumency lessons was closed. "You have had two weeks. Do you have your advanced guard chosen to escort Harry here tomorrow?"

"I do," Moody said. His voice was harsh, as if he smoked too many Muggle cigarettes. "I have the advance team ready. Here is the list of volunteers," he handed the Headmaster a role of parchment.

Albus unrolled the parchment and gave it a quick glance. He nodded in satisfaction. "Assemble here at five o'clock tomorrow evening. I have arranged for the Dursley's to be away tomorrow night. You will all Apparate to Privet drive and then fly back here."

"I thought Harry was staying at Hogwarts," Arthur said.

Dumbledore answered, "He will Floo to Hogwarts from here by the end of the week. I thought that he may like a diversion with Sirius and his friends before he his forced to concentrate on more serious matters."

Albus arose. "Now, unless anyone has any other topics for discussion, I say we call this meeting adjourned."

Everybody rose and exited at once in a mass exodus out the kitchen door.

"There is one other thing," Remus turned to Severus, feeling rather embarrassed. "Severus, I hope it's no bother, but you wouldn't happen to have a Calming Draught on you? Sirius will be... less than pleasant when he finally wakes up."

Severus rolled his eyes and gave a heavy sigh, feigning exasperation. He reached into his robes and with his long fingers, handed Remus a phial of Calming Draught.

Severus intoned dryly, "Don't say I never give you anything."

Harry sat at the edge of his bed. He was very confused and felt sick to his stomach. He was finally alone in the house as Uncle Vernon had locked him in his room whilst he took his family to the cinema. His uncle had won three free tickets from a radio contest he did not remember entering. Harry had thought that the three tickets were odd. Not odd numerically… but odd strange.

It was not the odd number of cinema tickets that had confused Harry, nor was it the fact that the Dursley's had once again ignored his birthday that had given him the collywobbles. But rather, it was the very disturbing conversation that he had with Aunt Petunia that morning.

The gift Harry received from his long dead mother had been plaguing him since it arrived. He had read the attached letter over and over every chance he could. As mysterious as the letter was, Harry had come to one undeniable conclusion…his mother had known Snape, and apparently she had known him quite well.

Harry found it puzzling that Snape had never mentioned his mum. As far as Harry had been aware, Snape hadn't known her. His snide professor never passed up a chance to hurl insults at the memory of Harry's father, but Snape had never once spoke of his mum...not once.

Harry's mum told him to find Snape, but Harry had no idea where the man spent his summers. Harry couldn't find the great bat if he wanted to. For all Harry knew, Snape spent his summer in some coffin in Transylvania. He had conceded to himself that he would have to wait until the beginning of term to confront the professor, but Harry really wished he could find out now. The not knowing was intolerable. He felt like he would die before he even had a chance to return to Hogwarts if he didn't find out how his mum knew Snape. How much more pear-shaped could his life get? He actually wanted to talk to Snape?

Harry thought perhaps he could ask the Headmaster. He was bound to see the old wizard at the mysterious 'Headquarters.' Surely the Headmaster would know about Snape and his mum if they attended school together, but would the Headmaster tell Harry anything, or at least anything of importance? Harry doubted he would get much out of the old man.

Who else would have known Mum back then? Harry pondered. Then it struck him like a lightning bolt. "Aunt Petunia!" he nearly shouted as he bolted up from his bed. The sound of his own voice cutting through the silence startled him.

Harry wasn't sure when the sisters stopped talking, but he was quite certain that his parents and the professor attended Hogwarts at the same time. Like most everyone else, his mum would have been living at home during the summers at the time, with Aunt Petunia! If Mum went to school with Snape, she might have mentioned him to Aunt Petunia!

Harry decided to ask Aunt Petunia after Uncle Vernon had left for work and before he left for wherever it was Dumbledore would take him. It may be his only chance for any real answers that summer.

Harry was just finishing up the breakfast dishes when he heard Aunt Petunia kiss Vernon goodbye as he left for work. Dudley had already left to meet up with his friends, so Harry finally had a chance to be alone with his aunt for a while. Now was the time to ask before he lost his nerve.

When Aunt Petunia went into the sitting room to watch her morning programs, Harry put down his dish towel sucked in his breath and gathered his Gryffindor courage. He cautiously walked into the sitting room and stood beside the chair where she sat watching her afternoon dramas.

She seemed to ignore him as he stood there waiting, and Harry finally had to grab her attention with a hesitant cough.

His aunt glared up and snapped at him in her customary manner. "What do you want, Boy!"

Harry held his hands behind his back and shuffled his nervously from foot to foot. He inhaled deeply, and then took the plunge. It was now or never.

"Aunt Petunia, may I ask you a question…about my mother?"

The waspish glare she had favoured him with melted as her eyes widened with unwelcome surprise.

Harry felt uncomfortable as his Aunt Petunia continued to stare blankly at him. Was she wondering how to answer him? He had not asked about Mum in years. Her standard answer was to lie so he would not know the truth about his freakishness and then clout him over the head for his impertinence.

But Harry already knew about his parents. There was nothing more to hide there, or so he thought. But would she want to tell him anything? Harry could almost see her mind was thinking on it.

At that moment, to Harry's amazement, he saw her chilly regard for him melt away just a slight bit. Was she going to answer his question after all? Perhaps she was thinking of this as a birthday present.

"What do you want to know?" she said with as much civility as she could muster, which honestly wasn't all that much. Harry noticed that she did not ask him to sit.

Harry was surprised at her unexpected compliance and quickly asked his question before she could change her mind.

"Did my mother ever mention someone named Severus Snape?"

Aunt Petunia's face had a look of stunned recognition when Harry mentioned his Potion Master's name.

"Severus. How do you know of Severus?" she whispered as her eyes darted about the room, as if the walls might hear a dirty little secret.

Harry blinked dumbly at her before he finally found his voice again. "He…He's one of my professors at school," was all he could think to say.

Aunt Petunia looked like she was about to asked Harry a question. Perhaps she wondered in what capacity Snape taught, but she would never stoop so low as to ask about other freaks and their freakish ways.

"You know him?" Harry finally managed to ask.

"Of course I knew him," she hissed. "He lived only two streets over from us. He and my sister were thick as thieves when we were young." It did not escape Harry that his aunt still could not bring herself to say his mum's name.

They had grown up together? Harry found that just plain…weird. He couldn't wrap his brain around the notion that either Aunt Petunia or Snape were once little kids. But even they had to have been little at some time…right?

Harry plopped down on the couch without asking. He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He had to know more, so he tentatively asked, "Can you tell me anything else about them?"

"I can tell you plenty about them, but I don't think you want to hear it."

Harry audibly gulped as he tried to catch some air. "Yes I do, please...Please tell me." It was all Harry could do to keep from begging his aunt.

Aunt Petunia looked like she was considering Harry's request. Harry wondered if he was going to regret hearing what she had to say as Aunt Petunia flashed a nasty little smirk before she replied.

"They were engaged to be married for a short time, a couple of years after they left that school. I don't know what happened, but she had left Severus for your father only a week before the wedding. After you showed up on my doorstep, the reason was apparent. I never met your father, but my sister had once sent me a photograph of the two of them together. The resemblance was unmistakable. You were born only eight months after she dumped Severus."

Harry's face turned green. His mind went numb. He felt like he had been hit by a Bludger.

"Thank you," was all he could manage to whisper to his aunt. He stiffly arose and went to his room. He needed to be alone. Aunt Petunia simply nodded triumphantly and returned her attention to her television program.

Now Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He had been bombarded by so many emotions; he didn't quite know how to feel.

His mum had cheated on Snape.

His mum…and Professor Snape?

Harry couldn't focus as he tried to ruminate on the consequences and highly disturbing scenarios of his mum actually kissing Professor Snape clouded his vision.

Damn, what did she see in the snarky git in the first place?

Harry was startled out of his contemplations when a resounding crash came from the kitchen downstairs.

What the hell was that!

Harry sprang to his feet as he grabbed his wand from off his nightstand. It was too early for the Dursleys to be back. He turned and pointed his wand at the bedroom door. His heart raced as he anticipated what was to come next. Had the Death Eaters finally found him?

"Ouch," cried a female voice too young to be Aunt Petunia.

"Watch where you're going, Nymphadora!"

Professor Moody? Harry was confused. He recognised the voice but had never met the real Mad-Eye Moody. What was he doing here?

"Will you both be quiet? Harry's upstairs."

Harry gave a sigh of relief and lowered his wand. He recognised the voice of someone he trusted. Professor Lupin. The mysterious Order was there for him. Harry gave a quick glace around his room to make sure he had gathered everything of importance.

"Which room Lupin?"

"This one… on the left."

"What's with all the locks?"

"Stand Back!"

Harry heard five loud 'thuds' as the locks that were previously on his door clunked to the floor.

He stood facing his bedroom door as it sprang open. What could only be described as a phalanx wall of wizards greeted him, wands drawn and all trying to crowd into his room at once. They looked around Harry's room as if they were expecting Death Eaters to pop out from behind the draperies.

At point, was Professor Lupin. His wand was still drawn and his eyes changed from delight to concern as he saw Harry. Harry didn't think to do anything about his still bruised eye.

On either side of Professor Lupin stood Professor Moody and a young witch with pink hair that Harry did not recognise. Behind them, there were at least a half dozen other witches and wizards. Harry didn't know any of them. He could also hear at least two more downstairs.

"Harry…what happened to your face?" was the greeting he received from Remus.

Harry had to think quickly. "Err…I stepped on a rake out in the garden. Stupid thing really."

Harry grimaced because he knew it sounded a little less than convincing.

"Right," Remus sounded as if he knew better. But this was neither the time nor place for that discussion. "Do you have your things together?"

"Yeah… but my trunk and broom are in my cupboard under the stairs."

"Tonks!" barked Moody. "Go get Potter's things and bring him his broom!"

The witch with the pink hair turned and left without question. It was obvious that she was used to taking and carrying out orders. She tripped over her feet as she tried to break through the wall of humanity that filled the room behind her.

"Release Hedwig, Harry," Remus told him. "She will find you easy enough and it will be too awkward to carry her on your broom."

Harry opened his solitary window and released his owl through the iron prison-like bars. He took a moment to himself to watch her freely escape through the sky.

"We're flying then?" he looked over his shoulder as a tall dark wizard shrunk his bags and pocketed them for the journey.

"Yes…to London. We will be under a Disillusionment Charm the entire way." The real Moody gruffly informed him. He then turned around and started barking nondescript orders to the others.

Harry did not care for all of the 'whys'…he was going to fly. He had always wanted to fly about the countryside. He had never flown outside of Hogwarts' grounds.

He was going to fly, and for a short time, he could forget everything, Voldemort, Cedric, his mother and Snape. Harry could hardly wait for that sweet release that only came when he was on his broom.

Harry stepped through the doors at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. His hair was windswept and his face flushed pink as he looked back behind him with a look of awe of on his face.

"That was the most incredible thing I've ever seen," he exclaimed. The house had just expanded out of nowhere and pushed away the homes of the Muggle neighbours.

"You're still young," Remus chuckled and slapped Harry on the back, then pushed him further into the house.

Harry was standing in a long dark entry hall, and a chill ran down his spine. But before he could fully take in his surroundings, what must have been a rather large heard of hippogriffs came bounding down the stairs at the far end of the hallway.

"HARRY!" several familiar voices cried out in unison.

Nope…No hippogriffs. It was just his friends.

Hermione thrust herself upon him, practically knocking the breath out of him. Ron tried to pull her off so that his best mate could breathe. Fred and George popped out of nowhere and Ginny just stood in the background smiling brightly at him. The elder Weasley's were trying to make their way through the throng for their chance to greet Harry.

Too many questions began to fly at him at once. Harry suddenly felt claustrophobic and wanted to get away. He was given a reprieve when he looked up and saw Sirius at the foot of the stairs.

"Give my godson a chance to catch his breath, would you."

The crowd parted so Harry could make his way to his godfather. Sirius opened his arms in welcome and Harry ran over and threw himself into the welcome embrace. He was glad to see his godfather, but he was even more grateful for the man's intervention.

Sirius took Harry's chin and looked over his face. "How did this happen?" the concern in his voice was evident.

Harry shrugged, "Garden rake." He sounded more convincing now that he had already told the lie once.

"You've got to be more careful," Sirius said, fully accepting Harry's explanation. "Things are dangerous enough around here with Tonks tripping all over everything," he added good-naturedly as he winked.

Harry nodded simply nodded and quickly changed from the uncomfortable subject, "Where can I unpack?" He needed to get away from the awkward questions and scrutiny.

"You'll be bunking with me mate…Second Floor," Ron said happily. It was apparent to Harry that Ron was expecting late night that included Exploding Snap and a pile of chocolate frogs, but sadly, Harry knew his best mate would be sorely dissapointed. "Tonks has already brought up your trunk and bag, Harry. I'll help you unpack."

Ron started to lead the way upstairs when Harry said, "It's alright, mate. I can do it myself."

Harry was polite enough, but Ron's face looked slightly crestfallen. "That's okay. Whatever you want, mate. It's the first door on the right. Just be quiet so you don't wake up Mrs Black."

Was Sirius' mum still alive? Harry was too exhausted to care or ask. He simply nodded and quietly ascended the stairs-his godfather and friends watching him with looks of concern as he did so.

Harry lay atop the covers of his bed, his arms folded under his head. He stared blankly at the ceiling and tried not to think about anything. He had finished unpacking long ago. The food Mrs Weasley had sent up was still on the tray. He was trying to avoid going back downstairs where he would once again be bombarded by questions he did not want to answer. He was hoping that he did not have to stay here long.

Ironically, Harry wished he could be anywhere but here. He would not mind a visit with his godfather if so many bloody people weren't about. That… and the place was just so damn dark. And it wasn't just from the heavy drapes that obscured almost any hint of sunlight. The house had an all-together dark aura about and frankly…Harry just found the whole damn place to be creepy. What was up with all the house-elf heads mounted on the walls? This place was much too dark...too morbid and it made Harry's skin prickle. Harry didn't like it...at all. He wondered how Sirius could stand it here.

Harry decided that he would begin on his homework tomorrow. That would be excuse enough to keep to himself for the majority of the hols. Sure- he didn't think that he would actually return to Hogwarts after the trial, but it was as good an excuse as any to avoid people. Except maybe Hermione. He might have to come up with another excuse to keep her at bay.

It was just then Ron came in the room and broke the silence.

"Still up mate?" he asked, obviously in hope of talking with Harry.

"Actually…I was just about to get ready for bed," Harry lied as he absentmindedly scratched his scalp. It was itching a little.

"Oh," Ron said quietly, as if knowing he was being rebuffed again.

They took turns at the shower and readied themselves for bed. Harry was just settling himself in as the lights went out.

He found his thoughts racing once again and found it difficult to fall asleep straight away. Try though he might, he could not turn his thoughts away from his mum and Snape.

His mother had cheated with his father whilst she was engaged to Snape. How was that for a kick in the bollocks? Harry supposed that he was a constant reminder of that betrayal to his Potion's Master. James Potter's face coupled with Lily's eyes...

If I were the man, I'd hate me too, Harry grudgingly bemoaned to himself.

Then Harry panicked as he thought of something else. If he was expelled, how was he supposed to contact Professor Snape? Granted…Harry didn't think it was necessary for the man to be there when Dumbledore told him about the mysterious phial, but it was important enough for his mother to ask for Snape's presence from beyond the grave. Harry wasn't sure why, but he felt that Snape needed to be there. He decided that he would ask the Headmaster to arrange for he and his professor to meet.

Harry was thinking about his mother and Snape when he started to drift into sleep. His last thought was that if things had been different, Snape could have been his father. His body gave an involuntary shudder.

"Snape!" Harry screamed as he shot straight up out of his sleep. He slapped his and to his forehead in an effort to supress the burning in his scar burning scar. Harry gasped as he struggled to take in a full breath and he was soaked in cold sweat.

Ron was stood at the edge of Harry's bed, with a look of worry plastered across his face for his best friend. "You okay, mate? You were thrashing about so hard, I thought you were going to throw yourself out of bed."

Ron looked unconvinced when Harry said, "Yeah, just a nightmare."

"Well if you were dreaming about the Greasy Git…no wonder you had a nightmare."

"How do you know I was dreaming about Snape?" Harry couldn't remember the details of the nightmare, but it did involve Snape and a secret meeting with Voldemort…something about Blood Potions.

Harry decided not to dwell on it and he was just too exhausted anyway. It was only natural that he had been dreaming about Snape, wasn't it? After all, he was just thinking about the man before he fell asleep. Well, as for Snake Face…he was always having nightmares about that wanker, especially since his return. Harry's scar was only burning because the nightmare involved Voldemort. He knew it was only a nightmare, but it had been very unsettling nonetheless.

"You yelled his name right before you woke up," his friend told him. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you want me to get Sirius?"

"No, I'm fine," Harry said in half-truth. "Let's just go back to sleep."

Ron nodded as he yawned and wiped his hand down the length of his face, then padded his way back over to his own bed.

Harry settled himself back under his covers and turned over. He was soon asleep again.

Come morning, Harry and Ron were rudely awakened by Ginny. Or rather, Ron was rudely awakened by Ginny. Harry just happened to be unfortunate enough to be sleeping in the same room.

"Ron…Ron…RONALD!"

Much like Harry the night before, Ron bolted straight up out of a deep sleep. "Huh…whazit?"

Harry shook himself out of his slumber, sat up and reached for his glasses. "Morning Ginny," he said through a half-stifled yawn.

Her auburn hair flipped over her shoulder as she turned her head back to Harry. "Good Morning, Harry. Sorry to wake you," she said cheerfully before she returned her attention to her lie-a-bed brother. "Stop being such a dosser, Ron. It's your day to help Mum with breakfast."

Harry got up out of bed and looked for some clean clothes in his trunk. He heard Ron grumble, "Ginny, kiss my…"

"Excuse me!" Harry quickly interjected. He made a bolt for the bathroom before the inevitable fireworks would begin.

As Harry finished his morning ablutions, he noticed that his once purple eye was now turning a lovely shade of chartreuse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realised he could almost fully open it again.

He lifted up the fringe off of his forehead and looked at his scar. It no longer burned and looked quite normal…if a lightning bolt etched into one's forehead could look normal. But Harry was willing to wager every Galleon he had that the damn thing was as red as Fiendfyre the night before. It sure as hell burned like it.

Not wanting to dwell on the night before, Harry started combing his hair when he noticed something strange. His hair was behaving. Usually he just ran the comb through it to remove the rat's nests. It had always seemed as though he had an obstinate Pigmy Puff stuck to his head.

Now looking at himself in the mirror, Harry realised that he had managed to part his hair.

"How did I manage that?" His puzzled look soon turned to one of satisfaction when he decided that it looked good on him. He gave himself a nod to the mirror as if to say he was satisfied, and went down to join the others for breakfast. He really didn't want to join the crowd, but there was no avoiding Sirius and Mrs Weasley forever.

As it was at the Burrow, breakfast at Number Twelve was a raucous affair. No doubt because of the passel of Weasley's.

Sirius was seated at the head of the table and Mr Weasley at the opposite end. Remus was once again seated at the immediate left of Sirius. The seat to Sirius's right was empty, waiting for Harry to fill it.

Mrs Weasley was levitating breakfast to the table and a disgruntled Ron was over at the sink scrubbing pots and pans the Muggle way.

"Harry dear, take a seat and have a tucker," Mrs Weasley offered cheerfully.

Harry came around the table and sat in the empty seat next to Sirius. Sirius reached over and patted him on the shoulder. The conversation was innocuous enough, but everybody sounded nervous.

"Honestly, Harry, do those Muggle relatives ever feed you?" clucked Mrs Weasley as she put a healthy potion of eggs and some kippers on Harry's plate. "Every time I see you come from there you're as thin as a Cornish Pixy."

"They feed me enough Mrs Weasley," Harry lied easily as he tucked into his scrambled eggs. "I haven't had much of an appetite lately." That part had been true enough.

Mr Weasley chimed in, but his eyes never met Harry's. "That will change after a couple days of Molly's cooking."

"Harry dear, come see me after breakfast and I'll put some Bruise Healing Paste over that eye," Mrs Weasley offered. "You'll be right as rain in no time."

Harry unconsciously moving his hand towards his offending eye and mumbled a hasty, "Thank you."

"Hey, Harry. What didya –"
"…do with your hair," piped the twins.

"Your hair does look nice today," Hermione complemented.

Before Harry could answer, Sirius took over the conversation, "So Harry, what would you like to do today." He sounded anxious to spend some time with Harry. Harry felt a bit guilty putting him off, but Harry really wouldn't make good company anyway.

"Well," Harry swallowed, "I need to get started on my homework. I'm behind because all of my books had been locked away." Harry turned his attention to his food, because he couldn't stand to look at his godfather's crestfallen face.

Harry wanted to get to know Sirius every bit as much as Sirius seemed to want to get to know him. It had been months since he saw his godfather in the flesh, and then it had only been fleeting. Their relationship had mostly consisted of letters and Floo calls. Harry didn't think that had hardly been fair, but he wasn't ready to deal with a heart-to-heart with Sirius today.

"Well, there is an excellent study on the first floor across from the drawing room," Sirius said as he winked, obviously shaking himself out of his own disappointment. "I'd be happy to help you, though Remus was the better scholar out of us lot."

"Of course, I'd be willing to help any of the children with their homework," Remus offered.

Harry remained quiet and only half listened to the bustle that was going on around him. Every now and again one of the adults would flash him a look as if they pitied him. Did they know something he didn't? Harry desperately wished he could get away.

As Harry looked over his homework assignments, he lamented that he did not manage to steal his books out of his cupboard sooner.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick's assignments were straight forward enough and the research was available amongst Sirius' books. McGonagall's essay was on the origins and uses of Vanishing Spells. Professor Flitwick's asked them to identify and differentiate at least three Silencing Charms. Snape's assignment, well…that was a monster.

The thing was, if Harry had known he would have had a great head start with all the gardening he had been doing that summer

Ironically, Snape's little summer project was also the most interesting. They were supposed to collect five mundane plants with hidden magical properties over the summer. They could not purchase them from an apothecary or a Muggle garden store.

Then, they were to write their essays about the uses of these plants in potions. The students needed also to properly preserve their plants. They would be using them to brew three potions of their choice during the term. A list of their plants and proposal for potions projects were to be presented to Snape by their first class for his final approval.

Harry sighed. Even if he did return to Hogwarts, Snape would probably sabotage his project anyway.

It was also ironic that if Snape had treated Harry fairly, Potions would have been Harry's favourite class. Science was always Harry's favourite class in Muggle primary school. He was looking forward to taking chemistry once he started his secondary education. Snape had pissed any chance at that on Harry's very first day.

Snape knew I was Muggle raised. How was I supposed to know the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?

Harry started flipping through his book for ideas wondering how he was going to collect his plants. He decided that daises would be one of his plants. They grew everywhere and would be easy enough to find if he could only get out. He began to read about how to preserve them.

The most effective way to unlock the dormant magical properties of Daises is to link them together, stem through stem, and allow them to dehydrate in a hot, dry environment for one week.

Harry chuckled, "Daisy chains?"

He grinned with amusement at the thought of presenting his dour professor with a daisy chain. Then… then he began to imagine his Potion's Master sitting cross-legged in a field of wildflowers… linking his own daisy chains. He was laughing a belly buster now when a final image hit him. Snape was now wearing his daisy chain like a halo atop his greasy, black head.

That was it.

Harry fell out of his chair and was now rolling on the floor in a full blown laughing jag.

Harry was sobered quickly when the amused voice of the Headmaster interrupted him, "Would you care to let an old man in on the joke?"

Albus Dumbledore stood at the door wearing outlandish purple robes with red trim.

"I haven't heard a good joke in a long time," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at the sight of Harry in such a jovial mood.

Harry picked himself up off the floor and tried to collect his composure.

"Sorry Sir."

The Headmaster waived off Harry's apology and smiled, "No need to apologise, my boy. It does this old heart good to see a young man enjoying an honest laugh at the expense of one of his elders.

How did he kn…?

"But in all seriousness, Harry, I have some important things I need to discuss with you," Dumbledore said soberly. He gestured Harry to one of the armchairs in front of the window and the Headmaster took the chair across from him.

"Yes, Sir?" Harry asked, giving the Headmaster his full attention. Harry immediately regretted eating breakfast, as his stomach flipped a half-gainer. This did not sound good.

As always, Dumbledore started in, tact-be-damned. "With the Voldemort's return the issue of your safety has become a paramount concern."

Harry tried to remain focused on the Headmaster. He was trying to keep the unwanted images of the graveyard from invading his thoughts.

"Is that why I'm staying here this summer, Sir?"

"You will not be staying here this summer, Harry," Dumbledore said earnestly. "It is not only your physical wellbeing I am concerned with, but you also may be under threat of a mental invasion."

A hard lump formed in Harry's throat and he audibly gulped. "You mean that Voldemort may try to possess me?" The mere thought of such a thing was more disturbing than Harry's mind could articulate.

"No, not possession, Harry, but a mind invasion would be disturbing and dangerous nonetheless," said the Headmaster. "Therefore, you will be residing at Hogwarts this summer."

Harry was actually relieved to hear this. The halls of the old castle would be deserted and he wouldn't have to face the uncomfortable questions and looks from everyone. But he was still curious as to why he wasn't staying at Grimmauld Place.

"Why Hogwarts, Sir? Why not just stay here?"

Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. Maybe the Headmaster would think that Harry wanted to stay here and change his mind.

"The flow of people in and out, not to mention the Dark Magic that still resides in this house is not conducive to the Mind Arts you must learn, Harry."

"When will you start teaching me, Sir?" Harry did want to leave as soon as he could.

"You leave Friday. And I will not be the one teaching you. You will be taught by someone who is more masterful at the art than I."

Harry had to take that in. A more powerful wizard than the Headmaster? Harry didn't think that such a person existed.

He was awestruck. Harry's voice wavered, wondering if he could possibly live up to the expectations of this apparently nigh-omnipotent Magus. "Who...who will be teaching me Headmaster?"

"Professor Snape."

The look on Harry's face went from awestruck to gob-smacked in the course of a breath. "Come again, Headmaster?"

Once again, Severus was heading back down to his dungeons after a very disturbing meeting with the Headmaster. But this time his pace was slower.

No…this time he wasn't angry. He was…uneasy.

Severus had been summoned to a meeting with the Dark Lord…a private meeting. To say that Severus was on edge was an understatement to say the least.

Oh, he had not been the target of the Dark Lord's ire...not this time at any rate. No, it was the subject of the meeting with the deranged lunatic that had knocked ten bells out of Severus. So much so… he had told Albus that his effectiveness as a spy would soon be in question. It was not a question of 'if'-but 'when'.

How could Severus possibly carry out the task the Dark Lord had set for him?

"Sacrificum Abalienatio Haeres," he whispered the name of the ancient potion softly to himself.

Sacrifice of the Scions. Sacrifice of the Firstborn, thought Severus of its true meaning.

The Dark Lord wanted a potion made with the blood sacrifice of firstborn wizarding children. But why? What was the purpose of such a thing? Whose children?

Severus had sacrificed his principles more times than he cared to admit in order to stay within the Dark Lord's good graces and remain an effective spy for the Order. Though they were not as frequent, he still had nightmares over many of the potions he had brewed for the Dark Lord and the suffering he knew they caused. Severus had also brewed antidotes for them all…but this…this Severus could never abide and he could never forgive himself if he followed through.

There was no question about that. He would turn his wand on himself before he would create such an elixir.

Well…at least there was one ray of sunshine in this whole mess. Nobody actually knew the formula for the damn thing. The Dark Lord had only found an obscure reference to it in some ancient tome and decided it would suit his purpose... whatever his demented purpose was this week.

The Dark Lord had sent his minions out all over the Wizarding world trying to find any archaic reference to the potion. That was why his return had been marked with such relative calm. He had spread his reserves too thin to cause any real havoc thus far.

What troubled Severus most, was that he knew that no good would come from any outcome of this particular quest. If his followers failed, the Dark Lord's wrath would flow far beyond his circle of Death Eaters. If it succeeded…well…that was unthinkable.

Severus was also keenly aware that his days as a mole inside the Dark Lord's inner circle were numbered. One way or another, he would be exposed as a traitor. The question was, would he escape before the Dark Lord had his way with him?

Severus wasn't afraid to die. But he wasn't ready to die now, and not at the hands of the Dark Lord if it could be helped. He'd like to outlive the war…Thank you very much.

Unlike Black, Severus had no worries about becoming useless to the Order. Severus may lose his place as spy within the Inner Circle, however, that is not to say that he does not have other effective means of subterfuge at his disposal. Severus could always find a way to be useful.

Severus reached the entrance to his private chamber.

He put his hand on the brick wall and whispered his password low and softly, as if he were reciting a prayer, "Quiesco Hyacinthus."

A door slowly materialised from the wall, as if the stone had turned to a liquid, then back to a solid again. Severus tapped his wand and was admitted entrance into his lonely sanctuary.

Severus sat in his favourite squishy chair and debated between Dreamless Sleep or single malt. The Red Label was quite tempting, but Severus did need to get up early and Apparate to Diagon Alley in the morning.

He needed to purchase potion supplies for the school stores. It wouldn't do to purchase them through Owl Post. He would not have the opportunity to personally scrutinise the quality of the merchandise.

As a result, Severus summoned a Dreamless Sleep potion, reluctantly arose from his comfortable chair, and slowly made his way down the hall to his bedchamber. He finished his final ablutions, dressed in his dark green cotton pyjamas and downed his potion before he climbed into bed.

Thinking back on the conversation with Albus, he had agreed with his mentor. Severus must remain in the Dark Lord's confidence as long as possible. If the formula existed, it must be found and destroyed. Not only that, they must know why the fiend would have a use for such a gruesome elixir.

Out of all of his years as a spy, Severus knew these final days would be the most harrowing and dangerous in his entire life.

It was not a situation conducive to a good night's sleep.

Severus entered quickly into his quarters after he relieved himself of his purchases by placing them into the classroom stores. He could have delegated the work to the house-elves, but Severus didn't trust the high-strung little creatures to handle some of the more delicate or volatile ingredients. Thus, the task took up nearly half of his day.

He hung his cloak on a hook in the entrance-way and went to his kitchen to brew a spot of tea. As he was measuring his tea leaves he stopped. He could feel his forehead crease as he realised that something about his chambers were different.

Teapot in hand, Severus slowly made his way out to his sitting room. His eyes narrowed as they scanned about and noticed that something seemed off about the corridor that led to his bedchamber and private study.

"What the Bloody Hell?" He was not sure if he was confused, scared, or just plain pissed off.

The corridor had been lengthened and there was an additional door to the right.

Severus cautiously and silently step his way down the hall, unsure of who or what he might find behind any given door.

Slowly he opened the first door. It was his study. He stood there deflated…almost disappointed that something hadn't jumped out at him. Now he was confused. His study had been located directly across from his bedchamber. How did it find its way to the front of the hall?

He closed that door and carefully approached the next room. Gingerly, he opened the door as if Fluffy would suddenly lunge at him. The room came into full view and Severus eyes gleamed with rage. There was only one person who could have done this!

He rushed back down the hall and into the sitting room and tossed the empty teapot on the sofa. He snatched the box of Floo powder from the mantle and chucked a handful of glittering powder into the fireplace.

He stuck his head into the green flame and bellowed, "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE…GET YOUR ARSE IN MY CHAMBERS NOW, OLD MAN!"

Severus did not have to wait long for the Headmaster. It was as if the Headmaster were waiting for Severus' fire-call. Severus scarcely had time to step aside before Albus made his usual, regal entrance from the Floo.

"No need to shout Severus, I can hear you quite well," he said, unaffected by Severus' rage. There were only two people on the planet that could ever get away with speaking to Albus Dumbledore in such a manner. Fortunately for Severus, he was one of them.

"Follow me," Severus commanded in a voice that would make his students…and many adults…quake in fear of being condemned to a potion's cauldron.

Severus stormed down the corridor with the Headmaster in tow. He flung open the door to the offending room. Refusing to enter, Severus stepped to the far side of the door jam. He stood straight, taking advantage of his height so to look as intimidating as possible. With one arm crossed over his chest and the other extended towards the door, one long finger pointed inside the room accusingly.

"What…is that?" If Severus teeth were ground any harder, they would turn to dust.

Dumbledore stood across the door from Severus with his hands casually tucked in his robe pockets. He leaned slightly to look into the room as if a curious child. He straightened himself and looked dead serious... if it wasn't for that damnable twinkle in his eyes.

"That, Severus," Dumbledore said as if Severus had been clueless, "is a bedchamber. You're an intelligent man with a keen sense of observation. One would think that you could see that which is right before your eyes."

The pain from his grinding teeth was now giving Severus a headache. He had to calm himself before he let some very colourful epithets fly at his employer. Severus was known for his temper, but if he wanted to keep his tenure, he'd better calm down. Cursing your employer with a Crucio did not look good on a resume.

Despite his now searing headache, Severus still kept his teeth clenched. Of course it made him that much more tense when he said, "Of course I know what it is. Now, tell me why there is an additional room in my private chambers?"

The Headmaster still had his hands in his pockets. He seemed as if he were about to burst if he could not tell his secret because now he was bouncing on his heels. He looked as though he was entirely having too much fun at Severus' expense.

Try though the old bird might, Albus failed miserably in keeping the grin from his face any longer. "Whilst you were out, I took the liberty to fashion a room for Harry."

He looked so damn proud of himself…Severus just wished he could smack him. But that wouldn't look good on a resume either. It was frowned upon only slightly less than a Crucio.

"You took the liber…" Severus started, trying to fathom what the meddling old coot had done. His gall was unbelievable.

Severus took a cleansing breath and regained his composure. "And why…pray tell… does Potter require a room in my private quarters?" Severus said, emphasising the word 'private' once again.

"Were you not the one who stated that a trusting and personal relationship was required to learn Occlumency?" Albus casually reminded him.

But Severus had a valid counter-point on the Headmaster's argument. At least he thought he did.

"As I recall, I remained in the Slytherin dormitory whilst I was under your tutelage," he reminded his mentor. "I fail to see why Potter cannot remain in his Den of Lions?"

Albus finally stopped his bouncing, which was great because Severus was about to hex him with a Sticking Charm. "Ah...But Severus, we were not under the burden of the palpable animosity that exists between yourself and young Mr Potter," he said prompting the younger man's memory. "I believe that a closer proximity is in order so to more rapidly facilitate a bond between you two."

"More rapidly facilitate one of us to an early grave is more like it," Severus ground out. "You have heard of the old adage 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'?"

If the Headmaster smiled any broader, Severus would be tempted to start counting his teeth. Then to add insult to injury, Albus guided Severus back down the corridor of the Potion Master's own chamber and began to pat him on the shoulder like a petulant three-year old. "There, there, my boy. That is not in this case at all.' Albus patronised.

There would be no choices between a Sleeping Draught and single malt tonight. Yes indeed…as soon as that old meddler was gone, Severus decided that he was going to find that bottle of Red Label and get completely minced.

The tension at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was thick enough to walk across. Harry was alone in the sitting room waiting for the Headmaster to take him to Hogwarts. His friends had just gone downstairs to dinner. Harry had refused to join them.

Sirius was down there, and Harry had no desire to see the man. They had had a big fight earlier that afternoon.

A BIG fight.

Harry couldn't believe that his was the type of man his father had befriended. The row with Sirius had been so ugly, Harry had begun questioning his own father's integrity. To say that Harry felt disturbed about it was like saying that kissing a Dementor left one feeling a bit out of sorts.

His friends had followed Harry into the sitting room after his fight with his godfather. Harry had tolerated their presence for a time. Although he would have rather have been alone, they were still his friends and he did not want to alienate them too. As frayed as Harry's nerves were, he could not afford to lose his friends, for he was certain he had just lost his godfather.

Yet, try as everybody might, no one could really understand what Harry was going through, could they?

After all, Harry had been subject to fame he did not want, and frankly thought he did not deserve.

All of his life he had been a target, at 'home' by his uncle's temper and his cousin's constant bullying…and in the Wizarding world by some demented megalomaniac.

As long as Harry was the only one getting hurt, he could deal with it. But now the minutia of his life was changing and was spinning out of control and there was nothing Harry could do to stop it.

The first of Harry's friends had already fallen victim. When Harry offered to share the Tri-Wizard cup with Cedric, it was as much an act of fidelity as it was of good sportsmanship. The look on Cedric's face when he took the cup with Harry confirmed as much. It would have been the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

But look where Harry's offer of friendship had landed Cedric. No sooner had the older boy accepted Harry's act of friendship, he was dead. Was that the fate that awaited everyone he cared about, dead at the hands of the deluded freak?

As if Harry wasn't carrying around enough emotional baggage, then came the revelation about Snape and his mother. Harry knew that he wasn't at fault for something that happened before he was born. He also knew that he was undeserving of is professor's vitriol over the last four years. But Harry felt as if he carried the burden of his father's sins.

Now Harry was being forced to spend the summer with his least favourite professor. The same man his mother had betrayed so many years ago. How was he ever going to face his Potion's Master? Harry had no clue.

Harry wanted to hide. No…it wasn't from any tangible fear. Harry wanted to hide from his own runaway emotions. He wanted to hide and get away before they really caught up with him.

When Mrs Weasley called everyone to dinner they all went with the exception of Harry. Harry couldn't hold down anything if he tried. And he couldn't stand to be in the same room as his godfather. Not now.

Earlier that afternoon Harry thought he would relieve himself of a least part of his cares. Maybe finding out more about his parents and Snape would help put at least some things in perspective. Harry decided to confide in his godfather. He had never had an adult to turn to with his troubles before.

That's what godparents are there for right? Harry thought.

Well…that's what Harry thought.

Harry found Sirius and Remus in the study playing a game of Wizard's Chess in front of the window. He neglected to close the door behind him.

Both men looked up from the game at once with wide grins plastered across their faces.

"Harry! Come…join us," Remus offered as Sirius conjured up a chair between them.

Of the two men, it was obvious that Remus was the more comfortable around Harry. Remus and Harry had nearly a year to get to know each other when he was Harry's professor two years ago.

Sirius, on the other hand, was obviously nervous. Harry wasn't sure why. Perhaps he knew that this may be his last chance with Harry before Snape got hold of him. Sirius seemed a little unsure of what to say or do and he let Remus lead off the conversation. Harry wished Sirius would say something.

"Your eye is looking better I see," Remus noticed as he tapped at his own eye.

Harry touched his hand to where the bruise began to fade. "Yeah…Mrs Weasley's balm helped. I still have a scratch though," Harry hadn't noticed the scratch until the bruising had almost completely faded.

"Wel,l I'm sure Severus will have something to take care of that once you get to Hogwarts," Remus added helpfully.

The name of Sirius' old nemesis was enough to lure him right into the conversation. "What makes you think that rat's bastard will lift a finger to help Harry!" he practically spat the sentence at Remus for even suggesting that Snape would do anything kind for Harry.

Harry knew he was here to elicit information about Professor Snape from Remus and his godfather, but apparently Harry's black eye wasn't as important to Sirius as insulting Professor Snape.

"Severus is not going to do anything to harm Harry. Especially right under the Headmaster's nose," Remus said calmly as if he had years of practice of having to talk sense into Sirius.

Harry watched the exchange between the two older wizards like a Muggle tennis match.

"The Headmaster can't be there all of the time, now can he? Who's to say that Snivellus won't try something whilst the Headmaster's gone? Son of a bitch is probably ready to piss his pants. Can't wait to take Harry to You-Know-Who!" Sirius ranted.

Harry noticed the impatient edge creeping into Remus' voice. "Severus is a spy, Sirius…for our side! Dumbledore has complete trust in the man. We should afford him the same courtesy,"

The heat in Sirius voice began to rise too, "Well, forgive me if I don't have the same confidence in the Headmaster's judgment as the rest of you lot. No one else had to spend twelve years in Azkaban for a crime they didn't commit! He could spare time to save his precious Snape, but never once did he try to defend me!"

There was no arguing that point. Harry had thought the same thing on more than one occasion over the last year.

Remus stiffened, suddenly remembering that Harry was in the room. Turning his attention to Harry, he tried to change the topic.

"Harry, how's your homework coming along? Is there anything that we can help you with?" Remus obviously had suspected that his was the reason that Harry had sought them out. After all, Harry had been immersed in his studies practically since the moment he arrived.

"Actually, my homework is coming along fine," Harry said almost too quietly. He suddenly found the pattern of the carpet interesting. "I've finished my Charm's essay and I can finish Transfiguration tomorrow. I have to wait to get to Hogwarts before I can begin my Potion's work. I need access outdoors," he glanced over at Sirius who was having a hard time holding his tongue.

"Oh…and thank you for the broom case Sirius, it's brilliant," he had almost forgotten to thank his godfather for the birthday gift and hoping it would open the man up a bit more. He had almost forgotten that he had ever received it. But he could see that his gesture of thanks had lightened the man's mood a bit.

"Would you care to join one of us in a game then?" Remus said, trying to keep up the cheerful conversation.

Harry could not hide his nervousness because he already saw how sore the subject of Severus Snape was to his godfather.

"Not really. Actually I was going to ask you some questions about my mother," Sirius flashed a huge grin for a split second, "and Professor Snape," then his grin turned to a frown in an instant.

Harry could tell that Remus was going to say something, but Sirius' eyes had told Remus that he wanted to do it. Harry could almost see Sirius count to ten in his brain in an effort to regain his composure.

"What is it you would like to know, Harry?" Sirius said, seemingly in all sincerity.

Harry gave a sigh of relief. Maybe this was not going to be as hard as he had originally thought it would be.

"Did you know that my mother was engaged to Professor Snape?"

"Not at first," said Sirius as if he were half expecting the question. "Snape and your mother were good friends during school and they started dating seventh year. Nobody could ever figure out what she saw in him. How did you find out?"

Harry tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice for the next question. "My Aunt Petunia. Why did no one ever think to tell me?"

"Harry, I can't answer for anyone else," Remus nodded towards Sirius. "But I honestly never thought it was worth telling. Frankly, There was nothing to be gained from knowing and as your behaviour indicates now, you would have only found the news upsetting."

"Well, it sure explains a whole hell of a lot!" Harry exclaimed. "Did it ever occur to you what they had done to him?"

If Harry could read his godfather's mind he would know that Sirius frankly didn't give a damn what they did to Snivellus. But he thought he should give Harry an explanation. "We were all in Auror training together after we left Hogwarts. Your mum and James were friendly together by then, although I must admit, the extent of their relationship had come as a surprise even to me. They had obviously become closer than the rest of us had realised."

"Harry, people can't help who they fall in love with," Remus tried to say reasonably. "It was something that just happened."

Harry could not believe that he was about to defend Snape. But Harry couldn't help but to feel incensed upon behalf of his professor.

"Just happened? It sounds like a bloody thin excuse and a ruddy low thing to do, if you ask me. How did they give Snape the news?"

"Does it really matter? Snape didn't deserve her. Lily just finally came to her sense that's all," said Sirius as if trying to make Harry see reason, "she realised that your father was the better man."

Harry shook his head because he could not believe his ears. How could Sirius be so callous? "The better man? Was she unhappy? Did Snape ever hurt her? What indication was there after all of those years that James Potter was suddenly a better man than Severus Snape?"

Harry's chest was heaving, he was so outraged. What kind of people did this to another person?

"What I want to know is what the bloody hell Mum ever saw in the likes of Dad!" He also wanted to know what she saw in the likes of Snape in the first place and what had caused her to leave, but that conversation was for another man.

Sirius stood from his chair and cried out, "HARRY! I will not stand by while you besmirch your father's name like that! Especially in defence of that…that," apparently he couldn't think of anything bad enough to call Snape, as if the argument was somehow all Snape's fault. "You make it sound as if James had Confunded your mother!"

"Did he?"

Harry left Sirius and Remus dumbstruck.

He had turned on his heels and strode out the door. If Harry had been wearing robes, they would have billowed. It was actually a very good imitation of the Potion's Master.

When Harry approached the stairs, he noticed all of his friends gathered on the second floor landing looking down at him. He looked down the stairs and realized the elder Weasley's were staring up. The entire household had just heard everything.

Harry was lying on Sirius' sofa. It was dark with the exception of the flickering amber light from the fireplace. Harry had his back turned away from the hearth and kept one arm over his eyes to block the light. He did not want to be caught off-guard should the Headmaster arrive or anyone else came into the room uninvited. He did not want people to see how upset he really was over the fight he had with his godfather.

Harry was still angry with his godfather…very angry. So far, no one had been able to provide Harry with any reasonable explanation as to why his mum had left Professor Snape in favour of his dad. So far, it just looked like his parents were a couple of back-stabbers and Sirius didn't seem to see anything wrong with that. The man treated it as some sort of lovely joke.

From what little Harry thought he knew of Severus Snape, the man did not trust easily. His mum probably had to move mountains to get Snape emotionally close enough to propose. For his mum to betray that trust…and with a man that apparently despised Snape…it was no wonder his Potion's Master was bitter and jaded and Harry seemed to be the outlet of his resentment.

It didn't make it right, but Harry understood.

Before Harry had arrived at Hogwarts, he had no friends and was desperate to make some. He would do anything for Ron and Hermione. After all of this time, if he found out that one of them had betrayed him…say…Ron had joined the Death Eaters or Hermione sold him out to Rita Skeeter, Harry didn't know if he could ever allow himself to trust anyone ever again.

Although there seemed to be no love lost between Remus and Snape, they at least seemed to have a grudging respect for each other and Harry could never remember Remus say anything derogatory about the professor. Remus even defended Snape from his best friend, for all the good that did. Was that what it was like when they were in school? Harry would like to know but he doubted he would get any answers from any of the parties involved.

The more Harry thought about it—the more he fumed. If Sirius seemed to think the whole situation funny, what else did he find funny while he and Dad attended Hogwarts? 'Snivellus' didn't seem like a very endearing name to Harry. Were Sirius and his dad bullies?

Harry hated bullies. He had fallen victim to far too many of them in his life.

Uncle Vernon…Dudley…Piers…Snape.

Snape was a bully to Harry. Had Harry's father and godfather turned him that way?

It was enough to make Harry sick. None of this was his fault. Professor Snape was an adult with authority and he took advantage of it to wreack some petty revenge over events that took place long before Harry was born.

Harry had hated Professor Snape almost from the time they met, and he even had more cause to hate him now…but much to Harry's bloody sense of fair play, he couldn't.

Finding out what his dad and mum had done to Snape had made Harry see his snarky-git of a professor in a whole new light.

Severus Snape was human.

Try though Harry might, and as justified as he would be to do so, he couldn't bring up the old feelings of animosity that had once clung to him and strangled him like Devil's Snare.

Dumbledore said that Harry needed to trust Snape.

Could he?

As early as that morning, Harry would have said no. Harry still didn't like Professor Snape, but he didn't hate him. Maybe it was his first small step in beginning to trust.

Harry made a promise to himself that he would at least try to make a go of this Occlumency. He was willing to try to get along with Snape if his professor promised the same. That was still a big "If."

As Harry continued to wait on Dumbledore, he decided there was one thing he could be thankful for. He could finally fulfil his mother's request and find out what that ruddy phial was all about. Harry wasn't feeling too charitable towards his mum at the moment, but perhaps he could find some answers and Snape could find some closure maybe and…just maybe…find some common ground and a little peace.

A rush of sound filled the air and the sudden change of the light reflecting on the back of the sofa from amber to green, heralded the arrival of Professor Dumbledore.

Harry pushed himself upright, but as he looked up in expectation of greeting the Headmaster, he was caught by surprise by the presence of the last person in the world he expected to see at that moment.

Professor Snape.

Snape stood before him…arms crossed…hard-faced…obsidian eyes glaring...every bit the epitome of the grim professor that Harry had always remembered him to be.

"Are your greetings always this rude, Mr Potter, or did someone fail in their attempt to transfigure you into a codfish?"

Harry hadn't realised he had been gaping at his professor and he shut his jaw with an audible snap.

He jumped up hastily from the couch, pulling at the edges of his tee shirt and smoothing his hands over his denim clad thighs in an effort to get the wrinkles out of his clothing. "Sorry, sir. It was just that I was expecting the Headmaster," he said contritely. "I'll just get my things and we'll be off. They're just there in the corner."

Snape's eyes darted back and forth across the room, as if looking for something he had expected to see, but was not there. "Aren't you neglecting something, Mr Potter?"

Harry looked around, confused. Hedwig…broom…trunk packed with books and clothes. It was all there. What was Snape getting at?

Snape blew out breath as if he was having already to suffer fools. "Apparently, we have to go over your hospitality etiquette. I know Black has the manners of a rabid Crup, but I won't stand for my apprentice to be so ill-mannered. Did you bid farewell to your godfather?" he asked Harry as if he were a five year old.

After the row with his godfather, he just wanted to get the hell out of Grimmauld Place and climb into his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Harry went to the corner and hastily slung his rucksack over his shoulder, mumbling more to himself than speaking to Professor Snape. "I have no interest in saying goodbye to that son-of- a…"

"Potter!"

Harry snapped to attention, "Sir!"

Harry felt like crawling under a rock. He had almost forgotten exactly who was in the room with him.

For a second, Snape looked a bit bewildered, but his dour mask quickly fell back into place. Harry supposed he couldn't blame the man. Here, Harry had nearly called his godfather a most foul name, whilst at the same time calling his most-hated professor 'sir,' twice in almost as many minutes. The world seemed a bit upside-down to Harry too.

"As inclined as I am to agree with your estimation of your godfather, I should be rather put-out to find his face in my Floo at four o'clock in the morning trying to find you," Snape said irritably. "Now, Mr Potter…Where is Black?"

Harry sighed and dropped his rucksack to the floor. He supposed he wasn't going anywhere until he said goodbye to his godfather. "Everybody's downstairs having dinner," Harry said in a huff.

Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry by the bicep. "Well, isn't that just ducky," he groused under his breath. "Let's get this over with, Potter, so I can get you back to the castle and make sure you get something for dinner. I won't be accused of starving you to death, even if your godfather seems inclined to do so."

Like it or not, Harry was forced to follow Snape as his professor pulled him along by the arm. He was just ready to get this over with and get home…to Hogwarts.

Something was amiss at Grimmauld Place…besides the dozen grisly house-elf heads that hung on the walls.

Severus had called Black from his dinner table to say farewell to Potter. It had been a tense parting at best.

It wasn't for Severus that the parting had been unnerving. Severus had always been aware that what Black lacked in intelligence, he more than made up for in stupidity, but it appeared as though Potter had finally become disillusioned with his goddog. No doubt due to Black's speech impediment. He always seemed to have one foot in his mouth.

The entire episode did seem rather subdued to Severus as far as his understanding of Gryffindor sentimentality was concerned. No overly emotional embraces saying 'goodbye.' No maudlin requests to send an Owl…

"I'm going with Professor Snape now," Potter had ascetically informed Black.

Black simply scowled reprovingly at Severus for a moment or two…no surprise there…and bid his precious godson a stony, "Goodbye," before hastily retreating back into the kitchen to join his stunned guests.

If Potter wasn't going to be inclined to hero-worship his sociopathic goddog and his glory-seeking father, Severus may have something to work with.

It appeared that Black may have done something so moronic, that even Potter could not help but see that Black was living proof that a one could carry out all of the rudimentary functions of a human being without the benefit of a spine. If Potter had come to his judgment of Black on his own accord, perhaps he wasn't as imbecilic as Severus had first assumed. Thankfully, Severus was taking Potter away from Grimmauld Place before he really fell victim to Black's second-hand stupidity. Perhaps there was hope for Dumbledore's little scheme after all.

How the boy had become the epitome of grace on a broom, yet could not grasp the basics of simply stepping out of a Floo was beyond Severus.

The trip was so fast, one hardly had the chance to become disoriented, but as if by instinct, Severus reached out and grabbed Potter by the shoulder as they stepped into Dumbledore's office, before the boy had the chance to fall flat on his face and break his nose.

Potter looked appropriately embarrassed as he said, "Thank you, Professor," and dusted himself off.

Severus pressed his lips in irritation at the boy's lack of efficiency, "There's a spell for that, you know," he said snappishly.

"Tergeo."

Potter looked on gawkishly as the Floo dust was siphoned off the boy's clothes. Honestly…One would think the near-fifth-year had never been exposed to Magic in his life.

"I didn't think we could do Magic during the summer," Potter attempted to lamely excuse himself.

"We're in a magical castle, Potter. Who's going to know?"

Wait…Severus had always made it a point to complain about the constant encouragement the Headmaster gave Potter to bend the rules and here Severus was doing the exact same thing. He had actually snapped at Potter for obeying the law.

Severus decided that must research this phenomenon. Perhaps people didn't intend to spoil Potter. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment on the boy. Severus wouldn't put it past the late-Potter to do such a thing to ensure that his spawn was adequately kept according to his station.

"Not to worry, Severus," the Headmaster's voice had said from out of nowhere. Severus and Potter both looked to see Albus descend the staircase from his private chambers. "Your secret is safe with me, and as long as he is under your watchful eye, I have no problem with Harry practicing his spells in the castle over the summer."

Severus had hoped to avoid the Headmaster. He still had to feed Potter and he was well ready for bed himself.

"Please…sit," the Headmaster said as he offered chairs to both Severus and the boy. "Perhaps some tea?"

Potter accepted the Headmaster's invitation and slouched in one of the offered chairs. The boy did look bone weary and resembled someone who had just emerged on the losing end of a rather gruelling duel rather than someone who had spent a holiday with his friends and godfather.

"Don't get comfortable, Potter," Severus said as he prompted the boy back to his feet. "It's getting late and I will not have you ruining your supper with lemon biscuits and scones."

"I must say that it is heartening to see you taking an interest in Harry's well-being so quickly, Severus."

"I simply have no desire to land in Azkaban for child neglect, Headmaster," Severus said dryly.

"Hey! I'm not a chil…"

"Silence, Potter!" Severus snapped. "It's late, Headmaster and we really must get settled into our chambers," he said only slightly more civilly to Albus.

Potter gave Severus a quizzical looked and mouthed, Our chambers?

Severus said nothing. He simply raised his hand slightly and gave a small shake of his head, indicating to Potter that now was not the time to ask. Much to the boy's credit, he seemed to understand.

"Of course. There is nothing to discuss that cannot wait until later," Albus agreed. "I bid you both good night then."

Harry had a hard time keeping up with Snape's pace on the way down to the dungeons. Harry was really sore and tired…not to mention a bit put-off that he would not be spending his summer living in the tower. He actually hadn't counted on living with the professor. Harry felt as if he had jumped right out of Sirius' frying pan and right into Professor Snape's fire.

Harry didn't have time to ponder on it too long because Professor Snape abruptly stopped and Harry nearly ran right into him.

The Professor didn't say anything…only gave Harry one on his infamous black glares that made him want to run and hide behind an Acromantula.

Show no fear, Harry tried to convince himself. Since first-year, Harry had been convinced that Professor Snape could smell fear in his unsuspecting students and that's when he would STRIKE! That's why poor Neville never stood a chance in Potions.

Harry jumped as Snape abruptly snatched his right hand and inexplicably placed it on the bare stone wall. Harry expected to feel cold, damp, rock, but to his amazement he could feel warmth radiate through the stone, almost as if it were a living thing.

"Feel the indentation under your thumb and index finger?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded, embarrassed that he could hear his audible gulp. "Yes, Sir."

Snape kept Harry's hand held firmly to the stone. His voice was so low, that a chill ran down Harry's spine. "Now repeat after me, Potter… Quiesco Hyacinthus."

Harry repeated the incantation in his head three times before he said it aloud. He gasped as a solid oaken door appeared before him. It was as if it had…opposite of melted… right before his eyes.

"Point your wand at the door, Potter."

Harry followed his Professor's instructions and Snape pointed his wand at the door as well. Snape chanted a complicated string of Latin that Harry could not follow and the door slowly opened and bade them entrance.

Harry mutely followed Professor Snape into his chambers and he could not escape the feeling that he was invading the man's very personal space. The fact that Harry was about to see a side of his Potion's Master that very few had ever been privy to, had not escaped him.

Harry stood almost numbly in the entry of a very unexpected living space. Snape removed his cloak and hung it on a brass tree at the end of the foyer.

Snape suddenly turned to Harry, nailing him into place with his hard eyes. "I have just given you direct access into my personal chambers, Potter. Only the Headmaster is afforded this privilege. You will continue to have this access after term begins and you return to Gryffindor Tower. This is due to the fact that your training will be on-going and you must have access to me if you require. However…should you betray this trust, you will find the consequences of said betrayal to be…most unpleasant. Do I make myself clear, Mr Potter?"

Harry was almost afraid to breathe, but he had to say something. So he said the first words that came to mind. "Crystal…Sir."

Harry's answer seemed to satisfy the Potion's Master as Snape's upper lip twitched slightly as he gave a curt nod before he said, "Good—now follow me."

He led Harry into a small kitchen with a round table and four chairs.

Snape pointed at the table and said, "Sit. Eat."

Harry hesitantly sat at the table, uncertain as what to expect next. He supposed Snape would just serve him a cold sandwich and some clear broth and send Harry off, which was fine with Harry because he hadn't had an appetite for days, but to his amazement that wasn't the case at all.

In front of him popped a plate with Beef Wellington, asparagus, new potatoes, and a glass with a pitcher of cold milk.

The food smelled savoury and wonderful and as tempting as it all looked, Harry wasn't sure his stomach could handle it. He knew The food was far too rich and the portions were much larger than he was accustomed to.

But his usually irritable professor had gone out of his way to make Harry welcome in his home and after the awkward lesson in etiquette that afternoon, Harry knew better than to insult the wizard by refusing his hospitality. Harry swallowed and said a perfunctory, "Thank you, Professor."

Snape just gave a slight nod as a 'you're welcome,' and busied himself at the counter, making a pot of tea.

Harry made of show of eating by picking at his food whilst Snape had his back turned.

The scraping of the professor measuring his tea and the clink of the copper kettle on the granite counter was grating on Harry's nerves and he fished for something to say. "What does it mean? Your password?"

For a fraction of a second, Harry thought he saw Snape's back turn rigid, but when he blinked, the professor looked relaxed again. Harry thought he might of imagined it until Snape said, "It is of no consequence, Potter."

Harry took that to mean, 'It's none of your business,' and he went back to pretending to eat his dinner.

When Snape turned back in Harry's direction and brought the tea to the table, Harry dutifully ate a piece of beef and a small potato. It was delicious, but his insides still felt off by all of the day's emotional stress and he honestly didn't think he could stomach much more.

Harry had the distinct feeling that he was being watched and looked up from his plate to find he was at the receiving end of Snape's scrutinising gaze. Snape continued to sip his tea, unaffected that Harry had caught the professor watching him.

Harry couldn't stand the staring contest anymore and finally asked, "Yes, Sir?"

Snape set down his teacup without taking his gaze from Harry. "What was the matter of your dispute with your godfather today, Potter?"

"It was of no consequence, Professor."

Snape looked as though he was considering Harry's snide answer and perhaps felt that it was justified.

What happened next was completely unexpected by Harry. The professor extended his arm and held out his hand in the direction of a door that led to a small room off of the kitchen. Harry watched in silence as the door opened and a small jar drifted into Snape's outstretched hand.

Harry was taken aback as Snape offered him the ceramic jar. "It's a healing unction," he explained. "Care to tell me what happened to your eye, Mr Potter?

Harry was surprised that Snape hadn't noticed it until now, but this was the first time he had seen Harry in any decent light. The kitchen was unexpectedly bright.

Needing an answer, Harry stuck to his original lie and said, "Garden rake."

"Hmm…a fool couldn't help but notice the animosity between yourself and you godfather today, Potter. Are you certain…"

"No!" Harry said almost too quickly to sound convincing…though it was the actual truth. "I mean, no," he said in a much calmer voice. "Sirius may be acting like a complete arse…sorry, sir…I mean berk…but he would never hit me."

Snape seemed to ponder on Harry's explanation for a moment, probably debating if it were true. Harry didn't relax until he saw the professor's face change when he obviously decided that Harry had spoken the truth.

"Very well then, Potter," Snape said as he touched his serviette to the corner of his lips and placed it on the table. "Finish you supper, then ready for bed. You may read for a half-hour before lights-out. You have a full schedule tomorrow."

Harry pushed away his plate. "I don't think I can eat any more, sir." The professor was giving him that damn appraising stare again and Harry tried to think of a way to change the subject. He came up with the perfect idea since the professor seemed to be in an uncharacteristically generous mood, Harry thought it was a good opportunity to bring up the phial.

"Where are my things sir? There's something in my trunk I need you to see," Potter asked in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

Severus had taken note of Potter's meagre attempt to eat and that eye was still suspect. No doubt the Weasley matriarch had given the boy a salve, but apparently it was of dubious quality if Potter was still sporting a black eye. Potter seemed adamant that Black was not the culprit so Severus assumed the Potter must have been in a street fight not long before he was whisked away to Headquarters. Severus had not seen Petunia in nearly twenty years, but she was too much of a glory seeker to ever soil the personage of her ridiculously famous nephew.

If Potter's eating habits did not change, Severus would have to address them soon. Learning the Mind Arts took as much physical energy as it did mental energy, and Potter apparently needed all the calories he could get. This was the closest proximity he had ever been to the boy when he wasn't in his school robes and it never occurred to Severus before now that there was something physically off about Potter.

Potter was alarmingly thin and the fact that his clothes were at least three sizes too big made him look that much smaller. Hadn't Black or Lupin taken notice of this fact? They were the ones who supposedly cared for Potter? Did it not concern them that the boy looked like a cross between a hooligan and an urchin from a Dickens' novel. Severus knew the extents some Seekers would go through to keep their weight down so to stay on their team. The diets were misguided and dangerous. Severus knew that Black was dense to the point that light bent around him, but certainly even he wasn't moronic enough to condone such destructive behaviour in a teen. It least Severus hoped not.

Severus wasn't about to be embarrassed by Potter's slovenly and waif-like appearance. His reputation amongst the Order was tenuous at best. He had no intention to give doubters any more fodder to question his integrity. He would see to it that Potter was healthy and well turned-out.

But that was another matter to be addressed later. They were touchy subjects and had to be approached delicately lest Potter shut him out…and that could not happen if there was any hope to Potter learning Occlumency.

Severus doubted that Potter had anything of import to show him. It was undoubtedly a feeble attempt at misdirection. Probably a simple question about his summer Potion's project. But it was something that Severus could take advantage of. He and Potter needed to feel at ease around one another and as much as Severus loathed idle chit-chat, if homework help was what it took to gain Potter's trust then so be it.

Severus had only failed at two things in his entire life. He would be Damned if failing to teaching Potter Occlumency would be his third.

"Your things have been taken to your bedchamber down the hall," Snape said in a tone he was certain was equitable enough, "But you may summon what you need from here."

Severus noticed that Potter seemed quite on edge for asking about his Potion's project. He could see beads of sweat run down the boy's cheek. Potter pointed his wand in the direction of the corridor and scarcely whispered, "Accio, Mum's gift."

Severus thought his heart stopped…but it couldn't have because he was still alive.

Lily had bequeathed something to Potter and Potter was turning to Severus for answers. For the first time since Lily's death, Severus felt numb. What did she give Potter and what could it possibly have to do with Severus? Severus couldn't begin to fathom the implications.

Severus' eyes searched the corridor until it caught sight of a tiny object floating out of Potter's bedchamber and into the sitting room. It bobbled through the air and finally entered the kitchen and laid to rest in Potter's hand.

Potter gave it one last glance, as if he were debating whether or not to hand it to Severus. Potter seemed almost to choke on his own air when he tentatively reached across the table and offered the phial to Severus.

"Please, sir…if you would…Could you tell me what this is?"

Severus reached out, and with his long, thin fingers, reverently took the phial from Potter's hand. He too, could scarcely find his voice when he said, "This, Potter…is a memory."

Severus was so lost in his own disjointed musings, that he almost did not hear Potter say, "A memory…Mum sent me a memory?"

Severus knew how Potter felt. There was no greater gift a departed loved-one could leave behind. Severus could feel a stab of jealousy well up in his heart.

"How...how can I see it?" the boy asked

Severus gazed at the silvery substance within the phial. Perhaps hoping beyond hope that if he stared long enough, he could see his Lily.

Suddenly realising that the boy was still there and had asked a question, Severus snapped out of his own memories and raised his Occlumency shields before Potter began to suspect too much.

Now void of his run-away emotions, Severus stoically handed the phial back to Potter.

"Take this phial to the Headmaster tomorrow. He has a Pensieve in which to view it."

"Thank you, Sir," Potter said as he took back his phial. Severus idly wondered if the boy realised he was holding it to his chest.

"Sir," Potter said meekly, "Mum wanted you to see this too. She said in her letter that you deserved some answers."

It was enough to where Severus' shields collapsed momentarily, and he caught a sharp breath before he raised them again.

Potter looked as though he were going to be ill. "Sir, where's the loo?"

"You have facilities in your bedchamber. Down the hall, last door on the right." Severus could hear his voice, so he knew his lips were moving, but the rest of his body felt immobile as stone.

"Thank you again, Sir…for everything."

Severus sat there, still motionless as Potter slowly made for his room.

Lily had a message for him from beyond the grave that she had sent through her son. He wondered how on earth he was ever going to survive this night.

Harry finished his Transfiguration essay earlier than expected. It was amazing how much work he could get done without the occasional game of Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap wrapped up somewhere in his study time. Hermione would be proud.

Harry took advantage of the unexpected free time to wander around the castle grounds and chose his plants for his Potion's homework. At the moment—his target was daises. They grew wild in little patches all around the grounds.

Harry took his time. The emotional turmoil of the previous day had taken its toll on him. He felt scarcely able to walk, but sky was a perfect blue and the temperature in Northern Scotland was mild even at the height of summer.

As perfect as the day was and as entertaining as it would have been to have a laugh imagining Snape-the-Flower-Child linking his daisy-chain, only one thought consumed Harry this day. He would get to see his mum's memories later that night and would finally get some real answers to his questions over what happened between Mum and Snape...of that, Harry was certain.

At one point he wondered how exactly one viewed a memory in a Pensieve, but he couldn't even imagine how such magic was done, so Harry chose not to think about that part. If it was something dangerous, he was sure his mum would have found some other way to say what she had to say.

Harry also knew that Professor Snape would be going with him to see the memory tonight. He wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. Would Snape find some sort of absolution in the memories? If he did, how would he treat Harry then?

Or would Snape find the memories so upsetting…it would only make matters between Harry and the professor so bad that there would be no chance of a resolution? How would that affect Harry learning Occlumency?

Harry asked professor Snape that morning if there was some kind of book that might be helpful, but the professor said that it was doubtful that Harry would find any useful information in the self-help books. Many of them were written by authors who were only moderately adept at the rare magic and could actually do more harm than good. Harry came to the inescapable conclusion that if he were going to learn Occlumency…he was going to have to trust Snape. Hopefully his mum's gift wouldn't make matters worse between him and the professor.

Harry didn't like the notion that Voldemort could find a way into his head. Harry's mind was enough of a mess without that bastard mucking it up even more. As insane as it sounded…Snape might be the only way Harry would keep his sanity.

Harry looked into his satchel and figured he had enough daisies for his experiment now. He would have to get them linked soon if they were to be dry in time for the term. He wanted a window to redo it if something were to go wrong.

Harry sighed to himself. That's if he returned for the term. He still had his expulsion trial coming up. If he were expelled, would he have to return to Privet Drive? Or would he have to remain with Snape because he was the professor's apprentice? It was a sticky situation and Harry couldn't think about it anymore.

Why was his life so damn complicated?

The sun was getting low in the sky and Harry knew it was time to get back to the castle. Snape would probably lay-into to Harry for skiving lunch and insist that he eat before their meeting with the Headmaster.

But Harry couldn't eat if he wanted to. In a little less than an hour he would see his mum's memories.

He would see his mum!

Somehow, Harry knew that his life was about to change. Whether it was for good or bad…well…that was up to fate.

"Come in Harry…Severus."

The ornate oak door opened at the top of the spinning staircase and Harry took a hesitant step into the office. A strange, yet haunting, music filled the room and it felt that his nerves were not quite as on-edge as they were when he came up the stairs.

That changed when he forgot that Snape was right behind him and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the professor's hand press firmly between is shoulder blades.

"Move along, Potter. We don't have all night," The Potion's Master said as he propelled Harry further into Dumbledore's office.

Professor Dumbledore stood with his back to them. The Headmaster serenely stoked the fiery plumage of his phoenix. The calming music that filled the air was coming from that lovely bird. Harry wondered if the Headmaster was deliberately encouraging the phoenix to sing its tranquil song.

"I understand that you have received a rather unique gift, Harry," the Headmaster said as he turned and gestured for Harry and Snape to sit.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said quickly as he accepted Dumbledore's offer for a chair.

Professor Snape took the chair opposite of Harry's. Harry knew the professor had to be every bit as anxious as he was. Harry could barely stand the anticipation, but the professor remained perfectly composed…the very picture of calm and indifference. Harry wondered how the professor could keep from jumping out of his chair. If Snape was this good at hiding his real emotions…no wonder Dumbledore had made him a spy.

Harry reached into his trouser pocket took the phial. His fingers tightened around it one last time before he removed it and offered it to the headmaster. "Professor Snape told me that it's a memory," Harry said timidly, unsure of what else to say.

Dumbledore took the phial from Harry and gazed at its silvery pearl essence. "Professor Snape is correct in that observation. I assume that you are here because you wish to view this memory," the Headmaster asked, favouring Harry with his twinkling gaze over his half-moon glasses.

"Well, yes," Harry snapped. He didn't mean to sound so impertinent, but why did the Headmaster have to ask when the answer was so obvious.

From the chair next to him Harry noticed Snape role his eyes but the professor said nothing. Harry wondered if the gesture was in criticism Harry, Dumbledore, or just the entire exchange in general.

The Headmaster then turned to Professor Snape. "Am I to understand that you wish to view this memory as well, Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster." Once again, Snape seemed to be completely unreadable and Harry couldn't help but wonder what the dour professor was thinking.

"Then shall we?" The Headmaster gestured to his right and a panel opened from the dark-wood-panelled wall, revealing a pedestaled stone font carved with intricate runes and Latin phrases Harry knew he would never understand.

Harry and Snape followed the Headmaster to the Pensieve.

With a soft pop, the Headmaster uncorked the phial and Harry watched in silent awe as the metallic-like liquid poured an un-detached steam into the basin.

Dumbledore turned to Harry and Snape, and then asked, "Would you like to do this alone or together?"

Harry looked to Snape. "Alone?"

Snape nodded and gestured his hand, indicating that Harry should, indeed, go alone. Harry was relieved. He was anxious enough as it was. He didn't think he could stand to share such a deeply personal moment with Snape. No doubt Snape felt the same way about Harry.

Harry stepped forward and looked into the Pensieve. He found the silvery vortex mesmerising. Without knowing why, compulsion took over, and Harry felt the sudden urge to immerse himself.

His heart panicked, but he found no voice to scream, as he fell into the abyss.

Harry landed hard on his bum, inside a softy moon-lit room, decorated with white and blue and frilly lace. Through the dapple shadows he saw a white cot in the corner with mobile adorned with snitches and brooms magically suspended above it.

He was in a baby nursery.

And when Harry recognised the pretty red-headed woman rocking a baby, he knew whose nursery it was…

It was his nursery.

She was rocking him.

Harry pushed himself up from the floor and quietly approached his mum, as if his presence would disturb the idyllic scene. He stopped only a couple feet away.

It was all very surreal. He could see and even hear his mum sing to his baby-self a sweet lullaby but the memory brought no other sensation. He could not feel the soft evening breeze that gently blew through open window, smell sweet fragrance of the flowers that bloomed just outside, nor feel the warmth of his mum's nearby body. None of it was truly there, but Harry still easily found himself wrapped up in the moment.

As Harry watched his mum rock the tiny version of himself, he was struck by how young she was. She barely looked old enough to be out of Hogwarts.

Harry couldn't have been more than three months old, himself. The only feature that he recognised of himself was his unruly mop of raven hair. Harry stood there, with his eyes transfixed on his unblemished forehead and without realising, raised his hand and touched the mark that had cursed his life.

Harry mourned for the baby and the normal life that would be so tragically ripped away from him.

Harry turned his attention back to his mum, rocking him so gently as he slept.

She was singing to him.

Harry's mum had a lovely voice and though he had no recollection her voice before now, a spark of recognition stuck him. He did know that voice…and though he did not know the words, he knew the tune well.

Harry gasped a sob and covered his face to hide his tears. It was his first real memory of his mum that did not involve her death.

…Soft the drowsy hours are creeping…
…Hill and vale in slumber sleeping…
…I my loving vigil keeping…
…All through the night…

Harry composed himself, if just barely. He chose a spot to sit on the floor and waited for what would happen next. She had to say or do something eventually because thus far, Harry could see no reason why any of this involved Snape.

It wasn't until she finally finished her lullaby that Harry's mum finally began to speak.

"Harry…Dear Heart…I have a confession to make to you, my little love."

Harry's heart almost stopped. Was she really speaking to him here…now? No…she couldn't be. But it almost seemed to Harry as if she was.

She was actually speaking to baby-Harry. But Harry the teenager could still pretend…Couldn't he?

"You are not who people think you are, sweetheart. I had to hide your true identity to protect yourself and your father."

Harry was baffled. How was she hiding his identity and how exactly did that protect his dad? Actually…where was his dad? Why wasn't he here?"

"Harry dear, Daddy James is not your real daddy. Daddy James and I are only pretending."

Daddy James?

No…NO! Harry was not hearing this! This can't be right! Someone must have sent him the wrong memory! This had to be a mistake!

"I'm so sorry, but we had to do this to keep you and your real daddy safe from some very bad people," she whispered into baby Harry's ear, as if to make sure no bad people would hear.

Oh, no! Harry wasn't stupid. He could see it now. He knew exactly where this was going, but he held himself transfixed on every word his mother said, praying that he was wrong.

"I hate myself for having to do this, but I even had to lie to your real daddy," His mum's face was now wet with unabashed tears, and so was Harry's. He knew what she was going to say, he but it wouldn't be true until she said it.

"I promise you, if he only knew, he would be so proud of you. He couldn't help but to love you as much as I do."

Really, Mum? Harry thought sardonically.

"Your daddy is a very brave man Harry, but his job is very dangerous. He is trying to make sure that the people who killed your Gran-da and Gran Evans never hurt anyone else again. But if the bad people found out, they might kill him and they might even come after you too. I don't know if I could live if something happened to either of you," she pulled baby-Harry tight to her. He squirmed in protest, but his mum lovingly cooed to him and baby-Harry drifted peacefully back to sleep.

"You were a surprise, my heart," continued his mum. "At first, I did not know how to keep you and your daddy safe. But you see, Daddy James is a good friend of your mummy's. I went to him and asked him to help me hide you from the bad people. I told him that even your real daddy couldn't know. Not right now, anyway. Daddy James did not like the idea at first. He thinks I should have told your real daddy. But I told him that your daddy's job is so dangerous he doesn't need to worry about protecting us too. The worry would only put him in more danger. So Daddy James claimed you as his own, married me, and I charmed you so that you would look more like Daddy James so no one would ask questions…Pretty clever, huh?"

Harry grabbed the hair at the top of his head, and squeezed the fist with his other hand. His whole body shook with overwhelming sadness and suppressed rage over what his mother had done.

"No, No, No! Mum…how could you!" Harry cried. "It was so clever, it practically ruined both of our lives and made my own father hate me!"

Harry desperately wished he could make his mother hear him so she would realise that she was making a very big mistake.

"But I promise you Harry, once this war is over, you and your daddy will know the truth. Like it or not, I'll have to tell you both sometime. If I don't remove it myself, this little charm," she said as ran her fingers through baby-Harry's hair, "will only last fifteen years."

"I'll tell you another secret, Love. You were really named after your gran-da and your daddy." She leaned in and whispered into baby-Harry's ear. It was secret meant only for him. "Your real name is Harold Severus Snape."

Remember to breathe, Harry, he had to remind himself.

The memory had ended. And now Harry found himself staring down at his feet whilst he still held an iron grip on the Pensieve. He was breathing heavily and sweating buckets from the physical and emotional exertion.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry turned around, startled by the intruding voice.

From behind his desk, the Headmaster looked on with concern. Snape…his father…also stood, staring at Harry, but the stern professor's body language remained impassive and Harry had no clue as to what he was thinking.

Harry stood—fixed in his place and met the Potion Master's black gaze. Harry thought the professor had started to say something, but then decided he must have imagined it.

Feeling that he could stand no more Harry said hoarsely, "I think I need to get out of here," and ran out of the Headmaster's office as fast as his tired legs could carry him.

Severus' eyes followed as Potter fled the office. The heavy oak door slammed behind the boy and the echo reverberated off the stone walls. Neither Severus nor the Headmaster commented on the boy's reaction to the memory.

He and Potter had locked gazes for a tense moment. The boy's turmoil was palpable and Severus had been tempted to ask him what he had seen, but thought better of it. Severus could not afford to become affected by Potter's emotions before he had a chance to see Lily's memories for himself.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster," he answered numbly.

"It is time."

Severus stepped up to the Pensieve. He grasped the edge of the stone basin and held tight lest he begin to quake. His Lily dwelled somewhere within. Severus stared into the Pensieve and allowed it to draw him in.

Severus violently pulled himself from the Pensieve. His grip on the font was hard enough, it threatened to crumble the stone.

Severus said raspingly under his breath, "Lily…what have you done?"

"Severus? What did you see?"

Before Severus could answer Albus, he had to regain his composure. He took a hesitant step back from the Pensieve then turned towards the Headmaster.

"He is my son, Albus."

Severus bowed his head and allowed his black hair to curtain his face, else the Headmaster see his remorseful tears.

By the time Harry reached the stone gargoyle at the bottom of the Headmaster's spinning staircase, the nausea finally overpowered him. He stood on the bottom step and doubled over, clenching his stomach as he heaved out what little food he had managed to get down that day.

After sicking-up for what was only about a minute, but what seemed like forever to Harry, he shakily took his wand from his sleeve and Scourgified his mess from the stone floor.

Now his only thoughts were on escape. He could not leave the castle grounds but had to find someplace where the Headmaster and Snape couldn't find him.

He bounced on his heals with nervous energy, hitting his fist against his thigh, whilst he tried to think of a place he could hide.

"Where…Where!" Harry frantically muttered to himself.

He did not have access to the common rooms. Harry would happily hide in the Slytherin common room if he had the damn password. He didn't care where he was, just as long as nobody found him.

Despite his still aching legs, Harry would have run up to hide in the Astronomy Tower if he didn't know that was the first place they would look for him…after Snape's quarters, that is.

Then it struck Harry. His broom was is Snape's chambers. Nobody could get to him on his broom. If he hurried, he could run down to the dungeon and grab it before Snape was finished with Mum's memory.

But the professor wasn't 'Snape' anymore, he was Harry's father.

Harry couldn't afford the luxury of thinking about that yet. Not until he had hold of his broom.

Harry kept chanting to himself, "Not yet…not yet, " as he raced up the corridor with his broom in hand.

As he approached the entrance, Harry ran as hard as he could, jumped on his Firebolt, and took off like a shot into the evening sky.

Harry climbed almost vertically with speed fuelled by anger, fear and uncertainty. He headed straight towards the stars and when Harry had finally reached as high as the wards would allow, he levelled his broom. He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around the broom handle, and depending only on his Firebolt for support, Harry cried with everything he had in him.

"Take this, Severus."

Severus sat in one of the chairs across from the Headmaster's desk. Albus reached around from behind him and offered Severus a crystal tumbler filled with a good measure of his strongest Scotch.

Severus took the glass and Albus settled in the chair previously occupied by Pott...

But it wasn't Potter anymore…was it?

Severus ran his hand through his stringy hair as he swallowed the elixir in one hard shot.

Severus knew how dejected he must look to his mentor. He couldn't stand the look of pity that began to form across Albus' face but Severus felt far too defeated to say anything about it.

"I am at a loss, Albus," Severus said with deep uncertainty "I don't know what to do?" It was more of a question…a plea for advice, than a statement.

It had been years since Severus sought counsel from Albus Dumbledore. But the ancient wizard was still his mentor and for the first time in fourteen years Severus would welcome his advice.

The Headmaster sat in his chair, nursing his own glass of Scotch. He asked Severus in a voice wrought with sympathy, "Tell me, Severus. What did you see?"

Severus took a cleansing breath. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing before he had the strength to say anything. "It was a ruse…Her marriage to Potter."

The Headmaster remained silent for a moment, almost as if he were wondering if he heard Severus correctly. "Why?" Albus finally asked. "If I heard this from anyone else but you, I would be disinclined to believe it. Why would Lily and James do something like this?"

"To protect me and Po...Harry," Severus corrected.

"From Voldemort?"

Severus nodded, "Yes. She was afraid that if it became known that Po…he…was my…my child, my life and theirs would have been forfeit to the Dark Lord."

"And would they have been, Severus?"

Severus couldn't contain his rage any longer. He jumped out of his chair and paid no attention as the crystal glass that once held his liquid courage, shattered into tiny shards on the floor.

"Yes!" He cried out in anger, "But I would have done everything within my power to see that the situation never went that far!"

Severus turned towards the Pensieve and shouted as if Lily could hear him beyond the grave, "I would have found a way to keep them safe! She should have trusted me!"

Albus seemed unaffected by Severus' outburst and Severus' could see the serious contemplation behind his wise, old eyes as the Headmaster chose his words deliberately. "As determined a man as you are Severus, do you think you're being realistic?"

"Are you defending her?" Severus asked in outrage. "What other choice would I have had? I know my family would have had to be kept secret! But I would NEVER have denied my responsibility to my wife and my son!"

"I'm not saying that I like what Lily did any more than you do, Severus, but look at this from her perspective. What if you had been exposed and what would the consequences have been?"

A cold chill ran down Severus' spine as he thought of what could have happened to his family had the Dark Lord found out. "Too gruesome to contemplate," he admitted more to himself than to the Headmaster. The Dark Lord would have 'made examples' of Severus and his family if he had been exposed.

"Misguided though she was, perhaps Lily's course of action was more understandable than you care to admit."

Severus felt defeated. He hung his head, not ready to face the reality of what he just had learned. "I cannot help but to feel robbed of my family, Albus. My wife…my son…If only I would have known. I would have backed out of my duties as a spy for them. It was for me to take care of my family—not Potter. Even after…it happened. Things would have been much different, had I known." Severus had only just managed to choke out his last words. It was taking much more energy than he cared to admit to keep himself from breaking down into tears in front of the Headmaster.

"Severus, I am sure that Lily would not have kept this from you forever," Albus said sagely.

Severus shook his head. "No, she wouldn't have," Severus reluctantly admitted. "In the memory…she said that she would someday tell me."

"Then it was a matter of her dying before she had the chance. It is obvious that her deception was not fabricated out of a sense of malice."

"But why now?" Severus asked desperately. "She could have sent this message sooner. She could have sent it to me! Why wait until the bloody charm began to lift? It's been fifteen years, Albus!"

"I did not see the memory, Severus, and I certainly cannot claim to read Lily's mind and know her rationale, so I am afraid I can't give you a reasonable answer." The Headmaster finally took a sip from the glass he had been nursing. Severus thought the old man looked as if he needed a drink.

The Headmaster seemed to ruminate on some thought, and Severus felt as if he would scream if Albus didn't say something soon.

Finally having enough of the interminable silence, Severus was about to go off on another tirade when the Headmaster finally spoke. "As distressing as I find Lily's actions to have been, I am afraid what has been done, is done."

"Well thanks a lot for your sage wisdom, old man," Severus said bitterly. "You don't think I could have figured out that bit for myself?"

The Headmaster raised his hand and motioned for Severus to sit back down. Severus returned to the chair. He thought about another drink, but the temptation to get drunk was too strong, so he decided just to lean back and listen to whatever useless advice his mentor had to offer.

"Please, let me finish, Severus," Albus began. "The question I have for you, is now that you have been enlightened to the truth, what do you intend to do about it?"

Severus turned to the Headmaster and said incredulously, "What do I intend to do about it? Mr Potter is almost a man, Albus, and there is too much bad blood between us. What do you think I am to do? It's a bit late for bedtime stories and fatherly advice now, don't you think?"

Severus covered his eyes, and pressed his hand into his throbbing temple. He couldn't allow himself to think back on all of the lost years and missed opportunities.

How could Lily have done this to him? She knew he had always wanted a son. But as angry as Severus was, he still loved her. He had never stopped loving her. But nothing Lily had done could equal Severus' sins. Severus had done more to ruin any chance of a relationship with his son than Lily's mistake ever could.

Severus had mercilessly harangued an innocent boy for four years, simply because the child had the unfortunate kismet to resemble Severus' school-yard bully. Whether Potter…Harry…was his son or not, did not matter. Severus had been so very, very, wrong to abuse his authority for the sake of revenge on a dead enemy.

Severus hung his head in shame and he could no longer hold back the treacherous tears.

"Oh, Albus…What have I done?"

Severus felt his mentor's comforting hand rest between his slumped shoulders. "Nothing that cannot be fixed should you put your mind to it, I assure you," Albus said, seemingly knowingly.

Severus still couldn't look Albus in the face. He kept is head hung as he lamented, "Albus, haven't you listened to…"

"I have excellent hearing, Severus. I heard every word you said," Albus said evenly. "Here, take this."

Severus looked up from his hands to see that the Headmaster was offering a handkerchief. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Severus snatched the handkerchief from Albus' rheumatic fingers and hid his face once again. It wouldn't do to have the Headmaster see Severus blow his nose.

"Now as I was saying, and I appreciate if you would hear me out," Severus heard the Headmaster begin, "I have no doubt, that had there not been a war, today you and Lily would be happily raising your family together. But as it happens, there was—and still is a war. It will not do you service to dwell upon 'what if.' You… my dear lad, need to focus upon the here and now. The woman who would have been your wife is gone, never to return, but your son, Severus…your son…is alive…and here today. You were not robbed of your son…he has only been missing…and tonight…you found him."

Severus lifted his head and stared at Albus in disbelief.

"You obviously haven't heard a single word I've said, " Severus said harshly through his dry throat. "It's too late Albus. The wounds run too deep and there are scars that may never heal. I cannot hope that Potter…the boy…could forgive me for my treatment of him over the past four years. I've done too much damage. You are suggesting the impossible."

"You're wrong, Severus," Albus said with certainty. "Harry is one of the most forgiving souls I have ever encountered, and I have encountered many."

Severus could almost hear the twinkle return to the Headmaster's eyes. "After all, was not the entire reason he returned to Hogwarts this summer, was so you and he could form a bond? Is it truly that far of a leap from a relationship as estimable master and apprentice to that of loving father and son."

"I have no right to expect…Harry," using the boy's Christian name felt so unnatural to Severus. "I have no right to expect him to respect me as a father," he repeated quickly. The notion that the boy could ever love him as a father was unfathomable and Severus wouldn't allow himself to dwell upon it.

"I don't think I can give the boy what he needs. We are strangers." Severus confessed more to himself than to Albus.

Unsure where it had come from, Severus felt a cup of strong black coffee warming his hands. He took a welcome sip as the Headmaster spoke, "Severus…when a child is born, it is a stranger to the world. And the miracle of parenthood is, that you can love that little stranger from the very first time you lay eyes upon him. No parent starts out knowing their child, Severus. But they do start out loving their child…in the knowing that that child is theirs."

"It's been fifteen years, Albus," Severus said weakly.

"Ah, but Severus—'Potter' may have been your student for the past four years, but you have just been introduced to your son-Harry, for the first time today."

"But, Albus…"

The Headmaster cut Severus off, apparently knowing what Severus' next argument would be. "Do not worry yourself, Severus. You may find that fatherhood will come more naturally than you think."

Severus thought hard on all Albus had just said. He thought the Headmaster was being overly optimistic in Severus' ability to affect any change, but Severus suddenly found himself with an undeniable urge to do something.

Severus looked to Albus. "I wish to re-enter the Pensieve."

Albus smiled and nodded knowingly.

Severus stepped up to the Pensieve. He gazed into the silver abyss, but this time the magic did not have to take him. Severus' compulsion came from within and with a renewed purpose, he one again delved into Lily's memory.

There they were.

She was cradling him…rocking their child to sleep.

Their child.

The baby she held in her arms was not Potter's. Harry belonged to Severus.

Severus approached the tableau, aware that he could not touch them, but knelt down before them, as close as he could without disturbing the tranquil scene.

Severus gazed into the familiar emerald eyes of the mother and son.

His son.

Lily had made a monumental error in judgment, but she had never betrayed Severus in favour of Potter.

She loved him.

She had always loved him.

How scared she must have been in those final days. Had she regretted what she had done? Did she long for Severus? How close was the end when she finally felt the need to save her memories for their son?

Lily and Potter had been in hiding for over a year—since before Harry was born. Severus knew they exchanged safe-houses many times in an effort to keep one step ahead of the Dark Lord. Albus had finally suggested that they go into hiding under the Fidelius only a week before that fateful night in Godric's Hallow.

Had Potter and Black stuck to the original plan, Lily and Potter might still be alive today. Severus had no clue as to when Pettigrew joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. Only the Dark Lord knew the names of all of his minions. No doubt if Black and Potter had not made the colossally stupendous error in judgment of making Pettigrew the Secret Keeper, the rat would have been tortured to death by the Dark Lord for lack of any useful information, long ago.

But would Severus really have been any closer to having his family back? If the Dark Lord had not of been vanquished that night, the war could have kept on indefinitely. He might never have known the truth.

But Lily would have still been alive and his son would not have been without his mother. Now that he thought on it, it was a sacrifice Severus would have made, if given the choice.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee…
All through the night…
Guardian angels God will send thee…
All through the night…

As Lily sang her lullaby, Severus gave into temptation. Severus tried to stoke her fiery hair, but his hand passed through his Lily as if she were only a shadow.

Severus then turned his attention to his son…Harry.

How much of Severus lay beneath Potter's image?

Would he ever know? Of course he would. Harry would change.

Severus imagined himself in the room with them…as he should have been.

…O'er they spirit gently stealing…
…Visions of delight revealing…
…Breathes a pure and holy feeling…
…All through the night…

Severus reached out his hand, as if to touch Harry's baby soft face, but he stopped just as he was about to touch the memory. He did not want to disturb the angelic face of his sleeping son.

Harry yawned, and Severus could briefly see those emerald eyes. "So much like your mother," he whispered in awe. Severus had never looked beyond the boy's glasses.

Sometimes…those times when Severus had dwelled upon the 'what ifs', he imagined a scene very much like this one…Lily singing their child to sleep, whilst he looked on with unabashed love and pride.

…Though sad fate our lives may sever…
…Parting will not last forever…
…There's a hope that leaves me never…
…All through the night.

Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office.

He still hadn't moved from the chair he had occupied whilst speaking to Severus only fifteen-minutes afore. Albus had rid himself of the scotch and the house-elves brought him a lovely camomile tea. He had not realised Severus' news about Harry had affected him so, until Severus had left to go think on the situation alone. Albus needed to calm his own frayed nerves. He knew this situation had affected Severus more than anything had since the death of Lily Potter.

The revelation of Harry's filial relationship to Severus was astonishing to say the least. Even Albus had not seen that one coming.

Despite Albus' reassurance to Severus, Albus was quite aware that this would not be easy for either of his boys. Albus was concerned that he would not be there enough for them this summer. He would be off trying to find evidence for this mysterious potion of Tom's. When the time came, Albus was afraid that he might not be there to guide his boys through rough waters. Then again, perhaps Albus' absence would be a good thing. Then Severus and Harry would be forced to depend upon one another.

Albus knew that although Severus claimed that the bridges had been burned between himself and Harry, he was also aware that bridges could be rebuilt, if one worked hard enough at it. There were bound to be rough patches between Harry and Severus, but Albus had no doubt that father and son would find solace in each other, if they gave one another the chance.

It was not Severus' willingness to initiate a relationship with is son that Albus questioned. Severus Snape was a selfish man in many respects, a trait that would, oddly enough, work out in Harry's favour.

Severus would want to claim that which belongs to him, and Albus knew the young man well enough to know that Severus would do almost anything to get his son back, despite his misgivings that Harry would want him. Severus would probably attempt to claim that he had no desire to become closer to his son, but Severus would never be able to deny his own nature. It was Harry, whom Albus felt was the unknown variable in the equation.

Severus was a man who did not forgive easily, but there was nothing to forgive of Harry. It was for Harry to do the forgiving. Because of Severus' unforgiving nature, he did not expect the same of others, and thought of those who readily forgave, rather as fools.

Albus was right, however, Harry was an exceptionally forgiving soul and he would, in time, eventually come to accept his father, but Harry was no fool. The boy had an uncannily keen ability to read the nature of people, but Severus had never given Harry the opportunity to see his true nature. Unless Severus took it upon himself to make the first overtures for reconciliation, Harry would simply consider himself as unwanted, suffer in silence, and any chance for father and son to make amends would be lost to the miasma of time.

Looking back, Albus wondered how he had missed it. Why hadn't he suspected Harry's parentage? Lily's deception had been perfect. No one had suspected her story because her claim of infidelity was reinforced by James Potter.

Albus should have asked Lily to be a spy.

Albus thought back on the circumstances that led to the present crisis.

Severus had confessed the state of affairs behind his and Lily's relationship after she had died. Albus had been astonished that Severus and Lily could pull off such an elaborate ruse at such a young age. Perhaps it wasn't so amazing that Lily could pull off another deception, after all.

It was an ill-kept secret that Severus and Lily had remained a couple after they left Hogwarts. But only three others had known that their later public breakup had been a ruse. Surprisingly, they had been Marauders.

That little slip-had been Severus' doing.

After finishing Hogwarts, Severus had become an exceedingly valuable asset to Voldemort (or so thought Tom Riddle). At eighteen, the boy had become the youngest Potion's Master in over five-hundred years. To add to the achievement, Severus had obtained his vaulted status of his own volition and passed the examinations readily without the benefit of a prior apprenticeship. Not only had this been a source of pride for Albus, it had been a source of pride for Voldemort, as Tom considered himself to be Severus' mentor and inspiration.

As Severus became more ensconced into the self-styled Lord Voldemort's inner circle, the boy's on-going relationship with Lily had come into question. Yes, Tom had been very much aware of Severus' long-time acquaintance with the Muggle-born witch.

She was quiet beautiful and Severus had assured Tom that the relationship was purely physical on his part. "All cats look the same in the dark," Severus coolly told his 'master.'

At first, Voldemort had not cared. If Severus wanted to defile a Muggle-born for his own debase pleasure, he was welcome to do so. However, once Severus reached his majority and gained his Potion's Mastery, propriety had to be upheld. It would not be seemly for Severus to be seen debasing himself with Muggle-born-filth. Thus, Tom ordered Severus to rid himself of his demimonde.

The lovers had other plans.

Even if Severus had tried to convince Lily that parting ways would be the most sensible thing to do. Lily would have never stood for it.

Voldemort would never tolerate the defection of one of his most trusted minions. Lily would never tolerate Tom taking Severus from her. She had no intention of abandoning the man that she loved, not at a time when he needed her most. After all, she had an erroneous sense of guilt over Severus becoming a spy in the first place. Severus had done it to avenge her parents. How could she just leave him?

Fortunately, both Severus and Lily were blessed with gifted intelligence and uncommon common sense for their age. They had decided to part ways… publicly at least.

Had they 'remained together,' Severus would have been questioned over his loyalty. Lily would have become a target...both would have been marked for death.

They would feign their break up. Severus would be 'cold and uncaring,' Lily would be 'heartbroken yet unforgiving.' He had called her a 'Mudblood' whilst they were 'arguing' in the middle of a café in Diagon Alley. It would be a repeat of an ugly episode that took place in their fifth year-Lily had forgiven him for the first debacle after stewing for over a month. Apparently, she would not forgive him again.

Their plan was to have a public and ugly separation, and then of course to continue seeing each other covertly.

The plan had worked. Everybody on both sides of the fighting had believed the parting to be genuine. With the exception of Albus, most had thought that perhaps Severus had become too ensnared in his role as a Death Eater. Many had lost their trust in Severus. Albus believed that Severus was being 'cruel to be kind,' and was forcing Lily to distance herself from him in an effort to keep her safe.

Severus had astonished Albus once again when he confessed that it had been relatively easy to find a secluded place in which he and Lily could rendezvous.

Severus had been the last Prince heir and his grandfather had left him the expansive family estate. The manor house would be totally unsuitable due to the fact that too many of his grandfather's former associates and their families were a part of Voldemort's original inner circle. Spinner's End, where the Muggle home his father had left him was located, was too well known by Severus' childhood contemporaries, also most of whom were now Death Eaters.

But the place Severus found was perfect. And if all went according to plan, it would be the place where he and Lily would one day raise their family and grow old together.

On a far secluded spot of the Prince Estate, approximately eight kilometres west of the manor, was a small lodge. It was warded from all but family members and had been in disuse for quite some time.

The cottage was built by Severus' great-grandfather around the end of the last century. His great-grandfather, Augustus, had built it as a retreat to get away from his harping wife. Severus' mother had told him about the cottage, and when he had come to live with his grandfather after her death, he had used it as a sanctuary from the 'tyrannical bastard,' as Severus had put it.

Severus decided to give the lodge to Lily as a gift. He allowed her carte blanche in remodelling the old dilapidated cottage. It would take her nearly a year to finish it. She could only work on the place sporadically because it would be suspicious if she and Severus were constantly gone at the same time. The wards would not allow her sole entrance until such time she officially became a part of the Prince family by marrying Severus.

As it happened, Severus and Lily could only steal way together every couple of months or so. If they were lucky, it would be for a weekend, but for the most part it would only be for a single night.

In the early summer of 1979, Severus had finally amassed the fortitude to ask for her hand in marriage.

It had been on the anniversary the Potter's death, after Severus had abused himself with several rounds of fire-whiskey, Albus had been in Severus' chambers, practically pouring cup after cup of strong black coffee down his Potion Master's throat, when Severus had regaled his story. Severus was in a rare, maudlin mood, and the events from the year before still stung him to the quick.

According to Severus, it had been a perfect June afternoon. He and Lily took a punt out to a small island that sat in the middle of the estate's swimming lake. In the distance, up on a hillside past pastures and woodland, the sprawling French Renaissance structure of Prince Manor stood sentinel.

After their picnic lunch, the several minutes of awkward silence was broken when Lily had finally told him to get on with it.

Severus had never been more nervous in his life than when he got down on bended knee, and asked Lily to be his wife and to his astonishment Lily had said 'yes.'

To this day…Severus claims it was the happiest day of his life.

Their plan had been simple enough. Severus would set up household in the manor whilst Lily kept her London flat. He would be able to Floo to the cottage, whilst she would Portkey inside the wards. The Portkey was created from Augustus Prince's pocket-watch. Severus had marked the inside of the watch with a spot of his own blood, that when added along with a specific incantation, was then capable of recognising the wearer as a Prince.

It had worked flawlessly. Nobody had known about Severus and Lily. That is until, according to Severus, he let his big-fat-masculine-pride and jealousy shove his big-fat-foot in his mouth.

Lily had gone into the Auror training program for the same reasons Severus had become a spy. She wanted the murderer that killed her parents stopped.

Her parents may not have been specifically targeted, but after the fact, the point was irrelevant. It happened to be a coincidence that they were on the Muggle commuter train that was the of a Death Eater attack. But the war had become personal, and Lily could no longer stand aside as a spectator and do nothing.

After Lily left Hogwarts, she did not want to be an Auror, per se, but she did want to learn the excellent combat training the program provided. She wanted to become an asset to the Order of the Phoenix.

It was after an Order meeting at James Potter's bachelor home in Devonshire that Severus' and Lily's true relationship became exposed.

When the official meeting of the Inner Circle had ended, Severus had remained behind in the study in order to give Albus his latest debriefing on Voldemort's activities.

James Potter had pulled Lily aside into the sitting room to go over some Ministry business that had nothing to do with the Order. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were there as well. Thankfully, Peter Pettigrew, though a member of the Order, was not a member of the Inner Circle and was unaware of the meeting.

It was common place for Lily to stay and talk with James Potter professionally or even socially. Much to Severus' chagrin, she and Potter had become friends after working and training together since not long after they entered the Auror academy.

Albus had left by the Floo in James' study and Severus was heading outside to Apparate back to the manor. He had adamantly refused to allow James' Floo any connection to his home.

As Severus told it, when he passed James' sitting room, he noticed that Lily was still there. She and James Potter arose from the sofa as she made her leave. Then, to Severus' horror, James placed both of his hands on Lily's shoulders, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek.

Looking back Severus had to admit that the kiss was nothing more than a peck on the cheek and innocuous enough. But Severus flew into a rage nonetheless, rushed into the sitting room, grabbed James Potter by the hair and punched James in the face hard enough to send the wizard flying, knocking over the settee before he landed into the far wall.

Through his rage, Severus had effectively managed to keep the other Marauders off of him whilst he continued to pin James Potter to the wall by the throat. Lily's pleas weren't even enough to placate Severus, and James' strangled appeals only managed to enrage Severus further.

Severus had become so infuriated; he had forgotten his tongue and threatened James. Albus remembered the exact words Severus said he had told James. "Touch my fiancé again…and the Dark Lord will be the least of your worries."

Severus had finally snapped out of his madness when he realised what he had said. He had exposed his relationship with Lily to the Marauders and potentially put her in danger.

Lily was the one who managed to gain control of the situation, and to Severus' vehement protests, explained everything to her fellow Gryffindors.

Not surprisingly, Sirius Black had been the least willing to believe the truth, whilst James sat there heartbroken, yet accepting. The information had seemed to be of no great surprise to Remus.

Lily had informed the Marauders that the information she was about to divulge was to remain within their tight circle or she would be forced to Obliviate them. Severus had wanted an Unbreakable Vow, but Lily had felt the measure unnecessary. Thus the Marauders were privy to a secret that not even Albus had been privileged to until after the Potter's deaths.

Now that Albus thought back upon it, the fact that Severus had not been exposed as a spy, should have alerted him to the fact that Sirius had not betrayed the Potter's to Voldemort. But at the time, he had not known that bit of information. Severus later told him, that he had assumed that Sirius Black had purposely not turned him in to Voldemort because it would be more of a cruelty to Severus to live with the guilt over his revelation of the Prophecy and his own hand in Lily's death, than to die quickly at the hands of the Dark Lord. Albus had been inclined to agree, but Severus had never been exposed to the better nature of Sirius Black and was naturally more disinclined to trust Sirius.

The fact that he had never investigated further into Sirius Black's story of innocence was a mistake that would haunt Albus for what was left of his long life. But life in the Wizarding world had become peaceful again. After the first weeks following Riddle's disappearance, the Death Eater's had either been arrested or gone into hiding and the Wizarding world wanted the sad chapter behind them. It seemed as if Sirius had truly been guilty and Albus had let the matter fade.

Albus Dumbledore made few mistakes, but when he did, they tended to be monumental. Not investigating Black's story and leaving Harry with his unfortunate relatives were chief amongst them. Albus was unsure of how he was going to make amends whilst simultaneously fighting a war…especially to Harry.

Unfortunately, ultimate victory depended upon the boy. If nothing else, as far as his considerable power would allow, Albus would assure that at least the boy would have as happy a life as was possible…until such time the inevitable came upon him.

Harry had been flying for over an hour under the half-moon-lit sky. He was no longer racing at a suicidal speed, but was now casually making figure eights around Hagrid's hut…with no hands.

Harry was finally able to think. He had stopped crying long ago.

Everything that Harry had bottled up inside him over the last few weeks had finally burst forth like an exploding cauldron and he had been helpless to stop it.

The guilt over Cedric's death...the worry of his friends meeting the same end...his impending trial and probable expulsion...the mystery behind his mother's gift and the revelation of her apparent infidelity with James Potter.

And then there was Snape.

His father.

His father!

That was when it all became too much to bear.

Over the last few days, as Snape's relationship with his mother came to light, Harry had felt an honest sympathy for the man. The betrayal of the love of his life to his life-long enemy would have been enough to make any man snap.

Yes, Harry had felt sorry for the man. That didn't mean that he liked him.

He may understand why Snape treated him the way he had over the last four years, but by no means was it justifiable. Snape—after all—was the adult. He didn't know Harry from Merlin when Harry walked into his classroom all those years ago.

The man had been purposefully rude to Harry and his friends, unabashedly biased towards Harry's House, and blatantly unfair!

Before Harry met Severus Snape, he found it inconceivable to be disrespectful to a teacher. If the man had treated Harry fairly or with the least amount of respect, Harry would have kissed the man's boots to be privy to his knowledge. That's how much he was actually looking forward to taking Potions when he first arrived at Hogwarts.

But no…when Snape first set eyes on him, he had to treat Harry as if he were something smelly stuck to the underside of his boot. He only saw Harry as the reincarnation of his dead fa… James Potter!

Harry grabbed his broom handle leaned into the boom, and took off around the castle. His acceleration matched his frustration.

Snape's my father. Not James Potter, Harry reminded himself. What was he supposed to do now?

Harry had no clue as to what he was supposed to do. What does one do when the man they had loathed for four years is suddenly revealed as their father? Most boys loved their fathers. Harry had at least loved the memory of James Potter, but Harry did not love Snape. Could he ever?

Would it mean he was a bad person if he did not love his father? Harry was sure that there were good people in the world that did not love their fathers. Some fathers just weren't deserving. Snape definitely wasn't.

But he didn't know that he was my father? Harry thought that it shouldn't make a difference, but somehow…he knew that it did.

Harry rounded the castle again, and followed the misty path of the Milky Way to the Black Lake. The moon was high and its light reflected like a million points of light on the glass surface. He pointed his broom downward and descended towards the water.

Harry was still thinking. Perhaps he wouldn't be a bad person for not loving his father, but maybe he would be a bad person if he didn't give his father a chance to love him.

Would the surly Potions Master want the chance? Harry didn't think so.

But did Harry really want Snape for a father? Harry did not know that either. What kind of father would Snape be? The man must have some redeeming qualities. After all, his mum had loved Snape.

Too many questions, Harry didn't want to think about it anymore.

Harry was now flying only inches above the Black Lake. He reached down with his hand and skimmed the water, watching the silver sparkles dance as he watched his face streak by.

He finally decided that he would just take his life one day at a time. What would happen…would happen. When all is said and done, that is all anyone could do.

Harry turned back towards the castle. Through the dappled shadows, Harry thought he saw a silhouetted figure atop the Astronomy Tower.

Harry decided to fly over to the tower and investigate, but by the time he had reached the tower, he only caught a glimpse of the dark shadow as it swept down the stairs.

Severus left the Headmaster's office and made a direct line for the Astronomy Tower.

The only time he ever went to the top of the Astronomy tower was when he reflected upon his time with Lily…Before everything went wrong. Now, he was going up there with a new purpose, to think about Harry, and what to do about his son.

When he reached the top of the tower, the stars were already bright in the sky. Between the merlons, Severus could see that between the starlight and the brilliant half-moon, the castle grounds looked practically alight. If one were to walk the grounds, they could do so without the aid of a Lumos. It was a perfect summer night.

Severus' heart ached, but not from the effort it took to climb the tower. This was an unfamiliar sensation to Severus and one he did not know how to deal with.

Severus had the strange burning sensation in his chest ever since he left the Pensieve. No…it wasn't love for Harry Potter. He could never love that arrogant, disrespectful, attention seeking, conceited little brat.

But Albus was right. Severus had just hopelessly fallen in love with his son…Harry Snape. He had definitely fallen in love with the cherub that slept in Lily's arms within the Pensieve.

All of these years, Severus had a son that was taken from him and he never knew it. But Severus was keenly aware of one thing—he did want his son back.

Severus was desperate to find out if his son…his Harry… was somewhere within the persona of the boy he had come to know as Harry Potter. It had occurred to him that Harry was not the product of Lily's betrayal and Potter's deceit. Harry was the very real product of Severus' and Lily's love...the love that she took to the grave with her. Harry was the son that Severus had once dared to dream of.

Severus had already admitted he did not know the boy. He did not want to know the boy, at least he hadn't before thirty minutes ago. Now, Severus wanted nothing more than to get to know the green-eyed doppelganger of James Potter.

And 'speaking' of the boy…there he was. He was on his broom, lopping figure eights over Hagrid's hut.

Severus' eyes narrowed. His eyesight was as sharp as a hippogriffs' and despite the distance and shadow, he could see that Harry was flying with no hands.

He had better get those hands on that broomstick before he finds himself on the receiving end of a Sticking Charm, Severus growled to himself. It was an empty threat. The boy was much too far away.

As if Harry had somehow read his mind, both hands grasped his broom as he took off out of sight around the far end of the castle.

The boy did not look happy.

Snape berated himself, of course the child would be upset-finding out that the most despised professor to step foot into Hogwarts in over a generation was his father.

Then it occurred to Severus. He…Severus, might wish to attempt to kindle some kind of father-son relationship, but what of Harry?

Severus had been a total arse to the child over the years, and it had been totally intentional. Severus had even taken pride in the torment he had caused the boy, all because he dared to look like James Potter.

Severus did not know it, but Harry had guessed the exact reason for the man's vehement hatred of the boy. Harry had been the physical embodiment of his beloved's betrayal. Every time Severus saw Lily's eyes staring at him from James Potter's face, he could hear his old nemesis laughing at him from beyond the grave.

Lashing out at the poor unwitting child had been Severus' way of silencing that laughter. He had always assumed that Harry was nothing more than a reincarnation of James Potter and Severus had treated him with all of the derision that a Potter deserved.

But Potter or not, Harry never deserved any of the scorn that Severus had dealt him. Even that first Potion's lesson, Severus knew that Harry had been diligently jotting down notes. The boy seemed so eager. Had he been any other student, Severus would have immediately began to observe to see if the boy had any talent and begin special tutoring if the child was so inclined. He had done so before with a few other students he deemed gifted in the art. Severus had seen Harry's potential…and he squashed it before it had a chance to flourish.

Severus hung his head with shame. He had extinguished a flame that he had passed to his son.

If Severus would have chosen to fan that particular fire, how close would they be now? Perhaps they would be rejoicing in the revelation of their new found relationship, rather than fearing the prospect of failure and rejection.

Severus caught the shadow of his son across the moonlight as the boy emerged from the opposite end of the castle. Severus watched as his son descended to the lake. He had to admit, with his first twinge of fatherly pride for the teenager, the boy had talent.

Then a sudden realization struck Severus. The world had assumed that Harry had received his extraordinary flying ability from James Potter, Gryffindor's prised Chaser, but it was from Severus the boy had inherited his talent. Severus too, had been a Seeker for his House team—and a damned good one at that. Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup three times under Severus. That had always been a sore spot with James Potter and another part of their bitter rivalry. Potter was an excellent Chaser and had twice amassed enough points to beat Slytherin, despite Severus' best efforts. It had been through Slytherin's defeat of the other Houses that had won them the cup.

Suddenly, Severus' heart wrenched with fear as he watched his son skim dangerously close over the surface of the Black Lake, but he could not scold the child too harshly. How many times had Severus done that exact same thing himself?

Severus startled when he saw Harry head back in the direction of the castle. It would not do to have the boy think that he was being spied upon. Severus quickly turned and headed down the staircase. He was just out of sight as he heard his son fly by the tower.

Harry had not seen anyone as he flew past the Astronomy tower. Perhaps the light was playing tricks on his eyes. He did have a bit of a headache. Small wonder after all of the emotional trauma of the day.

It was getting late, and Harry knew that like it or not, (and he did not) it was time to return to Snape's quarters. That morning at breakfast Snape informed Harry that his first Occlumency lesson would be that evening. Harry hoped that Snape would forget, but he knew it wasn't bloody likely.

As Harry descended towards the castle, it occurred to him that he had no idea what to call his Potion's Master. He was definitely not going to call Snape 'Father' or perish the thought, 'Dad,' (as if Snape would ever agree to such sentimentality) but 'Professor' seemed inappropriate as well. Harry couldn't just keep calling Snape 'Sir' for the rest of his life...could he?

At that thought, Harry rounded about and landed just inside the castle doors. He dismounted his broom and suddenly panicked as his body unceremoniously collapsed to the ground.

Harry screamed in pain. His bones...his joints...they burned right down to the marrow. Why was he in so much pain? Was this the attack Snape and the Headmaster had talked about? It had come about seemingly out of nowhere.

"Oh my God," Harry panted. He was in so much pain; he tightened himself into a foetal position and began to rock in an effort to calm himself.

What's happening to me? His body screamed if he tried to move his arms or legs. It didn't make sense. It wasn't as if he had spent too much time on his broom. His muscles never cramped this much after playing Quidditch for hours on end. Yes, Harry was already sore and tired before he took off, but still…

"Aaghh!" Another wave of searing, cramping pain hit him.

After a few minutes, Harry had managed to get himself to his knees, but he did not have the strength to put himself upright. He tried to crawl on his hands and knees across the stone floor of the castle, but despite his efforts, he collapsed again. He did not even have the strength to crawl.

Harry didn't know what to do as he pressed his face against the cold floor. He was really scared.

How long would it take for someone to find him? The pain was so intense, Harry felt like he was going to die. Would he before the Headmaster or Snape found him?

Just as Harry was about to be resigned to spending the night on the castle floor in pain, he heard his salvation.

"Harry...Child...!"

Thank Merlin! Harry thought. It was the Headmaster. Harry didn't think he could live through the humiliation if Snape found him writhing on the castle floor.

He heard the Headmaster's pace quicken. Harry then felt a wizened hand gently raise him into a sitting position.

"What's happened Harry? Were you attacked?" The Headmaster asked as he looked for any visible sign of injury on Harry.

"Agh! I don't think so, Sir," Harry said, wincing in pain. He was trying to keep from crying in front of the Headmaster like a toddler. "I don't know what's wrong! I can't move! It hurts! Everything hurts!"

The Headmaster's sparkling blue eyes filled with concern for Harry as he waved his wand across him, looking for any possible reason for Harry to be in such a condition. Then, the Headmaster's countenance changed from concern to relief and maybe even a slight... amusement?

Dumbledore looked at Harry and gave him a wide grin. "Not to worry, Harry. You will be just fine." Then, from nothingness, Dumbledore conjured a floating stretcher for Harry.

"Fine...what is it?" moaned Harry as the Headmaster floated him onto the stretcher. Harry was annoyed now. He was in excruciating pain and Albus Dumbledore found it funny?

The Headmaster said reassuringly, "It's nothing to be concerned over, Harry."

Harry looked up bemusedly at the Headmaster. He was shaking a little bit as he tried to set up, using his arms for support. How could Harry not be concerned? He couldn't bloody walk!

"I only need to get you to your father. He will have you as right as rain in no time," the Headmaster said nonchalantly. Dumbledore then pointed his wand, and Harry could not help but to watch in fascination as what looked like the Headmaster's Patronus in the form of a silver bird, erupted from the end, and flew off in the direction of the dungeons.

Your father.

Harry really wished the Headmaster hadn't said that. He groaned as his head dropped and hit the stretcher. Now not only was he in serious pain (something in which the Headmaster had taken some sick amusement from), Harry was about to be humiliated, after all. He was about to be presented to Snape on a platter.

When the Headmaster paraded Potter into his chambers on a floating litter, from the apprehension on the boy's face, Severus could tell that he looked every bit as grim as he always had. But Severus could not help himself. Albus' message assured him that Po…Harry was no worse for wear but Severus felt as if he would jump out of his skin until he saw for himself that the boy was indeed safe.

Severus was not accustomed to a wide array of emotional responses. They usually ranged in a narrow gamut, from being generally pissed-off at someone or something, to breathing Dragon flames from his nostrils. Even at his best, Severus had always come across as rather stern and aloof. Severus had forgotten how to do 'concerned', all together. The only thing he could think to do was keep an iron grip on the back of his sofa to prevent himself from rushing his son and fussing over him, as if Severus had somehow managed to channel Poppy Pomfrey.

"Honestly, Potter," Severus paused momentarily as he called Harry, 'Potter.' It did not seem appropriate, but what else was he to call the boy?

Severus stepped over to the stretcher, picked Harry up effortlessly and carried the boy to the sofa. He was alarmingly light and thin for his age. "After all of the stunts that you pulled on that broom of yours earlier, one would think that you could land without breaking your neck."

Pot...Harry protested, "Oww!" Did the boy have to be so over dramatic? It wasn't as if Severus were manhandling the boy. "I did not break my neck…I was…Hey! It was you on top of the Astronomy tower!"

"I was not spying on you if that's what you are concerned about," Severus said dryly, trying to sound unaffected by the boy's accusatory tone. "It was merely coincidental." He placed the boy gently on the sofa, knelt down, and began his own diagnostic on Harry, hoping to change the subject and assure himself that the Headmaster had been correct.

When Severus finished his diagnostic, he tucked his wand up his sleeve and looked up bewilderedly at the Headmaster who seemed to hover over them. From the look on Albus Dumbledore's face, the Headmaster was taking some sort of odd pleasure in the exchange before him. Albus leaned into Severus' ear and whispered, "I believe that the spell is reversing."

Severus was becoming quickly irritated with the old man. "Is there anything I can do for you, Headmaster?"

"Nothing at all," said Albus. "I'll leave Harry in your capable hands, Severus." At that he gave his customary irritating wink, and then left.

Severus looked at Harry. "How tall are you Potter?" From habit, Severus had schooled his features around the boy, but it was obvious that Po...Harry, was unable to tell if Severus was genuinely concerned or mildly irritated.

"What, Sir?"

Now Severus was truly annoyed. He hated repeating himself. "I said," Severus enunciated slowly, "How-tall-are-you?"

The boy was a product of himself and Lily. Clearly he must have more brains than Neville Longbottom.

"Umm…162 centimetres…I think, Sir." The boy sounded somewhat embarrassed to announce his short stature.

"Wrong, Mr Potter. You are 170 centimetres."

Harry gave Severus a puzzled look…as if Severus had just sprouted a second head. Severus fought the old urge to retort with a disparaging remark. But if he was going to mend fences with his son, this night meant everything.

"You are having what is commonly known as a 'growth spurt', albeit an overly aggressive one," Severus said calmly as he silently summoned a potion from his private stores.

"A growth spurt?" The child sounded as though he were affronted by the notion. "Growth spurts don't hurt this much, do they?" Harry added with a slight waver of anxiety.

"They can if the bones grow too fast for the body to adjust. You have heard of 'growing pains' have you not?" Severus turned and deftly plucked a potion phial from where it floated before him, and handed it to Harry. "Drink this," he said, hoping it did not sound too much like an order.

Harry took the phial compliantly enough and popped open the cork. His nose wrinkled at the god-awful smell. "Ugh! What is it?" he asked as he attempted to hand the phial back to Severus.

Severus pushed the proffered phial back towards the boy. "Drink it—It is a potion to relieve the pain associated with over active hormone production." Severus smirked a little. "You have grown nearly eight centimetres over the course of three days. It is of no wonder you are unable to walk. In fact, I find it astonishing that you have been able to get yourself out of bed these past three days."

Harry looked at the phial and eyed it suspiciously. "Over active hormones, huh? I suppose you get a lot of that in a school."

Severus could feel the corner of his lip quirk at Harry's observation, but he suppressed the urge to openly smile. "You have no idea," Severus said dryly under his breath.

Harry raised his eyebrows looking at the phial. The action took Severus aback. Did the boy always possess such mannerisms? It was so much like his own.

"Here goes." Potter took a deep breath and downed the contents in one swallow, just as ordered. "God that's horrible!" He shook his head and wagged his tongue as if it would help to get rid of the taste.

"Flavouring tends to make most pain potions ineffective," said Severus unapologetically.

"Yes, I know," agreed Harry, "but it doesn't make taking them any easier."

Severus was stunned. He didn't think that Harry had paid attention enough in class to retain any real information.

Severus simply held out his hand, gesturing for the potions bottle. Harry handed it to him. "Uh…thanks," the boy said sheepishly. "I feel better already."

Severus looked away as he muttered a soft, "You're welcome." He felt slightly awkward. Social niceties did not fall from his lips easily. He arose and vanished the potion's phial away with a wandless and wordless spell. He started to head for the kitchen and asked his son, hoping he did not sound as nervous as he felt, "Have you eaten yet?"

"Uh… no," Harry said as he sat upright on the couch, now apparently free from pain. "Can you teach me how to do that…a wandless spell, I mean?"

"Perhaps," said Severus over his shoulder. He was going to the kitchen to make sandwiches for supper. He had opted for a light dinner rather than order full meals from the house-elves at such a late hour. Plus, the busy work would help to calm Severus somewhat.

The conversation with his son had gone surprisingly smoother than Severus had anticipated, but then again, they had thus far, managed to skirt around the subject that Severus knew was plaguing them both.

To Severus' astonishment, it was Harry who finally mustered up the courage to ask the first question.

Severus was too caught up in his task and his own musings to notice that Harry had followed him in the kitchen. "Did you go into the Pensieve?" the boy practically whispered from behind him. It was if Harry were almost afraid that Severus would actually hear the question.

Severus' head shot straight up from what he was doing. He inwardly thought he was lucky not to cut off his fingers from where he had been slicing tomatoes. Severus did not know what to say in regards to Harry's question, so he said the only thing he could—the truth.

"Yes."

The boy hesitantly pressed a little further. "Oh...Are you angry?"

Severus slowly turned and met Harry's emerald eyes. The boy's striking eyes were so much like Lily's. Severus could scarcely find the voice to answer, "Yes," once again.

Severus never showed his own pain as Harry turned his face away and it momentarily contorted in anguish. "Why?" Harry spat. "Because you found out that I'm your son!"

A part of Severus wanted to lash out at the boy for his accusatory tone, but Harry had every reason to accuse and none of this was the boy's fault. Severus' words still came out harsher than he intended when he answered, "Yes…but not for the reasons that you think."

Harry looked confused and tormented by conflicting emotions. He was inadvertently trying to protect himself by hugging his middle. Severus' own insides twisted at the site. It was a position that Harry seemed quite accustomed to and Severus wondered what all the boy was thinking.

Severus gave an exhausted sigh. He abandoned the sandwiches. He had lost his own appetite, and from the pale look on the boy's face, Severus doubted Harry was capable of holding down food at the moment.

Severus walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair and said, "Potter…Harry," Severus still felt awkward saying the boy's Christian name aloud. He would have to get used to it. But it had the effect he hoped for because Harry had immediately opened himself up. The boy went from wrapping his arms around his waist to shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"Please…sit," Severus said more evenly.

Harry hesitantly approached the table. His hands were still shoved deep in his pockets as he seemed to contemplate the chair. Severus was about to bark out to the boy that the bloody chair wasn't hexed, but Harry finally managed to sit. Severus then pulled out a chair for himself, and took his seat next to the boy. Severus noticed that Harry had turned his chair away slightly so not to be totally facing Severus. It was as tactic that Severus had often used himself when he cared little for what someone had to say, but was trapped into listening nonetheless.

"Harry," said Severus, felling totally unsure of how to broach the subject. "I am angry in knowing that you are my son..."

Harry looked over at him. "But you just said…"

"I know what I said," Severus said in a voice that was slightly reprimanding. Severus took a second to calm himself in an effort to sound more reassuring. He wasn't accustomed to having to reassure a child. He was used to admonishing them. "Now if you will be so kind as to let me finish. Yes, I am angry to find out that you are my son," Severus began slowly again. "But only for the simple reason that I just now found out after all of these years."

Harry was now favouring Severus with the same codfish impression the boy had greeted him with at Headquarters. It appeared that Severus' declaration was the last thing the boy expected to hear coming from his surly Potion's Master.

Gormless expressions always drove Severus barking. He pressed his lips together tightly in an effort to keep from telling Harry to shut his gob before he attracted flies. Severus closed his eyes as he tried to collect his thoughts. How am I ever going to do this, he wondered.

Severus decided that the best way to go about it was to simply tell the truth. He took a deep cleansing breath and exhaled breathily before he began. "Harry…I cannot deny that my treatment of you over these past four years has been deplorable."

Harry's eyes narrowed a bit. But to his credit, he remained silent and allowed Severus to continue.

"My reasons were personal," Severus continued, "and totally unjustified. Had I known about our relationship, I assure you…both of our lives would have been very different."

Harry's eyes widened again when it occurred to him what Severus was trying to say.

"I realise that it is an…inadequate apology. But it is nonetheless sincere." Severus hoped he sounded as sincere as he actually felt.

Harry looked intensely at Severus, and asked sceptically, "You mean that you would have been okay with being my father?"

Severus corrected him. "I mean that I am…'okay'…with being your father, but in all honesty, I don't think I would be a very good one."

Harry nodded slowly as he seemed to take in what Severus had said. Severus had never seen such an intense look on the boy, "Okay…I understand," Harry said bitterly. "You don't want to be my father. It's not as if I actually had one before now. It's not as if I would know what I'm missing."

Severus wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't heard it with his own ears, but Potter actually sounded disappointed.

"Excuse me," Harry said tersely as he arose from the table. "I know you wanted to begin this Occlumency thing tonight, but it's late and I really should be getting to bed."

"Harry, you misunderstand," Severus said exhaustively. The use of his son's Christian name again was enough to make the boy stop in his tracks. Apparently he wanted Severus to say something he had yet to say. Severus had no idea what the boy wanted to hear from him, but Severus spoke deliberately and honestly, "When I was with your mother, our greatest desire…my greatest desire…was to have a son. The ramifications of what we learned tonight go deeper than what I am comfortable disclosing right now. However, had I known at the time your mother…when Lily died…that you were mine, I would have taken you without question and damn the person who tried to stop me."

Every bit of regret Severus felt for the lost past, he saw flash in his son's emerald eyes and it took all of Severus' fortitude to continue. "Time and circumstances have changed me. I am a hard man, Harry, you know this. As it is, although as your Occlumency Master, I have guardianship over you, I don't know that I have what it takes to be a father to anyone. I am also a realist. We don't know each other well enough to know what type of relationship we can have. I know I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your trust. But for now, all that I ask, is that we continue to go on as we have planned with the apprenticeship…and see what happens from there. Perhaps…we might surprise one another."

Severus wasn't certain if the look on the boy's face was that of acceptance or resignation, or perhaps a bit of both, but the boy silently nodded and said, "I guess I understand that," as he sat back down at the table. "But what are we going to do if I suddenly start to look like you?"

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Severus said in grave honesty.

Potter rubbed the corner of his eye under his glasses and sniffed. Severus never saw any errant tears, but he was certain the boy had been crying. It was enough to drive Severus mad inside to know that he caused this.

It was possible the boy really was just tired, though. Potter was right when he said it was late. The antique Black Forrest mantle clock that was perched over Severus' Floo had read 10:30 when Albus brought Harry to his chambers. There would be no time to begin Occlumency tonight.

Severus announced, "It's late, and we have yet to have supper…"

"I'm fine," Harry interrupted too quickly, then all at once looked apologetic for the interruption. "I'm not really all that hungry anyway," he said docilely.

Severus said authoritatively, "Nonetheless, you will eat. We can begin with Occlumency tomorrow. Go wash up and we'll just have sandwiches before bed."

Severus watched as his son arose, stretched, and plodded his way to the lavatory. Small wonder the boy had growing pains. Severus could swear Harry had grown since he left Albus' office, but he knew that must have been a play on the light. He wondered exactly how much Harry would change. When he told Albus of the charm, the Headmaster said that the changes could take anywhere from as little as a month to an entire year, depending upon how urgently the Magic felt the need to change.

Severus hoped the changes would be slow because they would not be as physically taxing on Harry. From the display Severus witnessed this evening, he doubted fortune would be so kind to the boy.

Then would come the explanations.

Once Harry's transformation became obvious, explanations would have to be made. With any luck, Harry would favour his mother over Severus. It would make life far easier on them both and an early death less likely for Severus.

Somehow…Severus doubted they would be very lucky about that either.

When Harry emerged from the loo after washing his hands and generally gathering his wits about him, he noticed Snape was still in the kitchen making sandwiches.

Harry could see the tension in the Potion Master's shoulders as the man stood over the counter slicing vegetables.

Harry still didn't know how to feel. In all honesty, he had halfway expected Snape to reject him. Harry was stunned when the man said he would have taken Harry away had he known the truth. Snape said their lives would have been different. Snape had wanted a son. He would have wanted Harry. That bit of information went farther to ease Harry's pain than he cared to admit. Harry wondered if Snape would have loved him, as well.

But that was neither here nor there. That chance at a happy life was long gone. Harry wondered if he and Snape were being given another.

Harry doubted they would have a chance. Even if he and Snape were both willing to give it a try, there were too many other forces working against them. Not the least of which—Snape was a spy. Harry wondered how Voldemort would take that little bit of news. Probably not very well, and although Harry never really liked Snape…not liked? Hell…he hated the man for four years, but Harry still did not want to see anyone else get hurt or killed because of him.

Not quite ready to go back into the kitchen with Snape, Harry decided to have a closer look around the quarters. Other than the kitchen and his bedchamber, he had not taken the time to really notice anything. He went straight to bed after supper the night before and rushed out the door after breakfast. Come to think about it…Harry wasn't even certain what his bedchamber looked like, he had been so tired over the last few days.

Harry hoped Snape wouldn't think he was snooping. He was going to live here during the summer, after all.

As Harry looked around, he was actually amazed. No bats, no snakes, no black. Not even Slytherin green.

Snape's living quarters looked nothing like a dungeon at all. The lighting in the windowless space had been spelled to mimic natural light. At the moment, as it was night-time, the room was darker and the sconces were giving the room a warm glow.

When one entered Snape's quarters from the corridor entrance, the stone wall was smooth and painted a light shade of taupe. Where the entrance foyer ended the wall became the expected rough stone once again. On the first wall is the massive Floo, large enough for a grown wizard to stand in. On the opposite side of the Floo was built in oak book-shelving that reached from floor to ceiling. Harry walked over and scanned the volumes.

There were no text or reference books in the shelves. It was all pleasure reading. Harry recognised a few wizard authors, but most of the books had been penned by Muggles.

Many of them were what Harry would expect to see in Snape's personal library…Monmouth…Chaucer…Shakespeare…Milton…Swift…both Shelley's. The list went on forever. But then, Harry found some very unexpected books. Melville…Poe…Dickens…Tolkien…Christie…Hemingway…King…Harry never thought a Slytherin would have anything Muggle nor Snape would have anything so contemporary. Harry knew that Snape was well read, but he never expected this.

Then it occurred to Harry. Snape had either grown up in a Muggle neighbourhood or awfully close to one. How else would he have met Mum when they were kids, like Aunt Petunia said?

"Wow…I need to ask Snape if I can borrow these," Harry whispered reverently.

He took out a well- worn hardback copy of The Black Pearl. Harry thought it was a bit young for Snape's personal library. Harry had read the story himself when he was younger. The book had been a gift to Dudley and his cousin had tossed it aside like anything else that had real worth. Harry had found it whilst cleaning under Dudley's bed and he ferreted it away. Dudley had eventually found out Harry had nicked the book when he caught Harry reading under a tree at school. Dudley tore the book to shreds and Harry as well when they left school later that afternoon. Harry regretted that he never finished it. He was about to put the book back and look for something a little more suitable to his age, but abruptly decided against it. After all...a good book was a good book and he really wanted to know how it ended. It would be a nice way to fritter away an afternoon.

He looked up from the book and took in the rest of Snape's chambers.

A short step down from the stone hearth the floor was actually oak hardwood and in the sitting area was a red oriental tapestry rug with blues and browns threaded throughout.

Harry found the furniture unexpected as well. None of it matched. It looked as though Snape simply picked up pieces that he liked from here and there, but it all looked right anyway.

The sofa was suede, chocolate brown with soft cushions and beige throw pillows. In front of that was a square coffee table made of rough cut wood. On one side, a low, squishy, dark tan leather chair…it looked like it might have well worn Snape-shaped indentations in it.

Obviously his favourite chair. Note to self…DON'T sit there.

Between the squishy chair and the sofa was a round end table with several old watermarks from left over from sweating glasses. On the other side of the coffee table…an upholstered, off-white Queen Anne wing chair. Harry could imagine the Headmaster using that chair often.

There was an arch in the rough stone wall behind the couch that led to the white and brown French provincial kitchen. To the right just beyond the wall was a short corridor that led to two more rooms. To the left was the dining area that Harry had become familiar with.

The walls on the left and right in the sitting room were the same as the foyers. To wall on the right, was the hall that led to the bedrooms and guest toilet. On the left wall, a well-stocked mahogany liquor cabinet. Not that Harry had any intention of invading it, but no doubt Snape would have it warded by now.

Harry nestled in on the sofa. It was every bit as comfortable as it looked. Along with some other personal brick-a-brack, all-in-all, the whole place looked comfortable and homey. If it wasn't for the company he was forced to keep, Harry wouldn't mind spending his summer here at all. He was half expecting shrunken heads in jars and slimy potions ingredients.

But then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Snape had been unexpectantly decent to him so far, but it was only the second night. Only time would tell it the Potion Master's uncanny change of heart would last.

Harry was beginning to thumb through the O'Dell book when Snape finally came in. His face looked like he was about to make a snide remark about something. But his expression quickly went blank as he asked. "Which book did you choose?" He entered the room and sat in the squishy chair next to Harry. The indentation was definitely Snape shaped.

"The Black Pearl," Harry told him as he handed the book to his professor. He wasn't actually sure that he could borrow it.

Snape took the book from Harry. The corner of his mouth upturned ever so slightly as he looked at the book fondly, thumbing through the yellowed pages. "Scott O'Dell was my favourite author in my youth," he told Harry. "Your grandmother and grandfather Evans gave me this book for my tenth birthday."

It was surreal. Before tonight, Harry didn't think the Potion Master was capable of overt sentimentality. Hell…Harry didn't think Snape had been capable of sentimentality at all. His world was beginning to turn off-kilter, and frankly, it made Harry feel a bit dizzy.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to go snooping through your things," Harry said. He was staring at the book in his Sna...his father's hands reverently.

My grandparents gave him that.

Snape shut the book gently and looked as though he were trying to decide something important.

"It is yours," he said suddenly and handed the book back to Harry.

Harry reached out to take the book but he hesitated. "I…I can't possibly…"

"I do believe that you had a birthday this week…did you not?" Snape asked in all seriousness.

Harry could only nod as he continued to stare at the book like a holy relic.

Snape's tone bordered on insisting. "This is my gift to you…albeit belated."

Harry took it with a shaking hand. He was too overwhelmed to even say 'thank you'. Not even the Firebolt the Sirius had given him for Christmas could compare to this one beat up little children's book Snape just gave him. To Harry, the little book was priceless and the gesture from his father, even more so.

When the fog cleared in Harry's brain and he could finally speak again, he said, "I don't…I don't know what to say."

"'Thank you', is generally the customary answer," Snape said. Harry could tell the Potion's Master was nearly at a loss for words too.

Harry looked up, and gave Snape the first genuine smile he could ever recall giving the man. "Thank you, Sir," he said in all sincerity.

Snape gave Harry a slight nod. Harry could swear the man was forcing himself to hold back his own smile when he said, "You're welcome…Harry."

In less than the time it took for a single breath, Snape had schooled his features once again to his normally impenetrable mask. Snape pushed himself up from his squishy chair and said, "Come. It is almost mid-night, and you still haven't eaten."

Suddenly, for the first time since Harry could remember, he was ravenous. Harry arose to follow his father into the kitchen, but took a moment to look at his gift again. It was given to Snape by Harry's grandparents, and now Snape…his father… was giving it to him. It was Harry's first real family heirloom. Now that James Potter wasn't his real father, the Invisibility Cloak did not count. Harry decided if he ever had a son, that he would pass the little book down to him.

Harry almost felt like hugging the man, but restrained himself. Snape might think he'd gone mad. Actually, after all that had happened this day, Harry was quite certain he had gone mad.

Not wanting to mess up his new treasure, Harry said to Snape, "I'll be right back. I want to put this away so it won't get ruined."

Snape gave Harry an odd look, but Harry knew why. The cover of the book was worn, the pages were yellowed and dog-eared, and Harry could even swear he saw a ketchup stain when he flipped through the pages. It's not as if he could do much more damage to the book. But still, Harry would treat it with the reverence he felt it deserved.

Harry hurried to his room and put the book in the nightstand by the bed. Nothing had turned out this day as Harry had expected, and unexpectedly, it was a welcome change.

Harry had no idea where his relationship with Snape would go, but for the first time since Harry had known the man, Snape had taken steps in the right direction.

Harry softly groaned. He cracked opened one eye as he awoke the next morning and gingerly lifted his head from his pillow. Harry had just had the strangest nightmare… where he was forced to live with Snape all summer and…

Two smart raps on his bedroom door snapped Harry back to reality.

"Potter…Breakfast!" Snape had barked impatiently from the other side.

Harry's head fell hard against the soft pillow and gave a little bounce. Harry closed his eyes tight, trying to make it all go away.

"You're kidding me?"

The day before had been a blur…but it was all coming back to him now. It hadn't been a dream-more like a living nightmare.

Harry was staying with Snape all summer, and yes…he was Harry's father.

Another thought struck Harry, and he opened the nightstand for more confirmation that last night had been real.

Harry picked up the physical evidence of the previous night's events and gazed at it in disbelief.

Professor Snape had given him the book. Harry grabbed his glasses from atop the nightstand and slipped them on his face. He then gingerly opened the front cover and the binding made a crackling sound from age and disuse. Harry caught his breath when he noticed the faded inscription neatly penned on the back of the front cover.

Presented to Severus Snape on the auspicious occasion of his 10th birthday
by Mr and Mrs Harold Evans
9 January, 1970
Happy Birthday Sev,
With Love From, Mr and Mrs Evans

Harry stared and marvelled. He moved his thumb across the neat handwriting, but didn't quite touch it, afraid he might accidently smudge the decades-old script. His grandfather's name was Harold. Harry had already known that, but here it was in writing. He still did not know his grandmother's name. For some odd reason, Harry half expected his grandmother to have some sort of flower name. He wondered if Snape might tell him.

Because Harry had no living memory of his parents, other than his mum on the night she died, it never really occurred to him that he had grandparents too. Aunt Petunia never talked about her mum and dad. Harry remembered her mentioning something about a train derailment that happened before he and Dudley were born, but she said little else about them. She would show old family photos to Dudley on occasion, but never to Harry.

Harry could feel a new resentment towards his aunt well up inside him and forcibly supressed it again. With his thumb, Harry wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. He had enough of crying and was determined he wouldn't cry anymore.

It occurred to Harry that not only had his grandparents been so close to the Potion's Master that they called Snape by such a familiar name; they signed the dedication with an endearment of love.

And Snape had given Harry this intensely personal memento….why? What did it mean? Why had Snape been so…well…Harry didn't want to say nice, but for Snape…. Harry couldn't wrap his brain around the words.

Harry wondered if his life could possibly get any stranger. What next? Would he find out at breakfast that Voldemort was actually his sister? It was all just so…bizarre.

Another pound on the door snapped Harry out of his reverie.

"Potter! Breakfast has been ready for ten minutes!"

"I'm up already!" Harry shouted back.

Oh yes…that sounded more like the Snape Harry had come to know and loathe. Now the universe was back in proper balance. Harry had almost been fooled into believing that Snape wanted him as a son…Not that Harry wanted any such thing. Harry was quite used to being alone and making his own decisions.

Snape's apologies and confessions, though Harry had to admit…did seem genuine, were too good to be true, and Harry learned well-enough long ago that when something seemed too good to be true, it always was.

And Harry still did not trust Snape. What if the Potion's Master decided to take the book back from Harry as a cruel joke?

That would be more in keeping with Snape's nature, Harry thought bitterly.

Despite what Snape had said the night before, Harry doubted Snape wanted children, least of all Harry. Dumbledore probably just made Snape say that all that rubbish about him being okay with being Harry's father or the Potion's Master was tanked. Besides, Harry had no need of parents. He was fifteen. Harry could take care of himself quite nicely.

A new day brought a fresh perspective, and Harry would not be duped into trusting Snape over a book, no matter how special it was. Harry had been too tired from all of the trauma the night before to think clearly. Last night, as Harry listened to Snape's hypnotising tone, Harry could almost believe that his cruel Potion's Master wanted to be a proper family. Snape could be as cunning and enticing as the Devil when he wanted to, and Harry refused to fall into his trap.

But one thing was certain. If Snape asked for the book back, Harry would just have to say he lost it. Harry considered putting a Thief's Curse on the book, but he would have to research the incantation and Harry had enough research ahead of him to last the entire summer. Instead, Harry just opted to put the book back into the nightstand and cast a simple locking charm. It would not stand up to an Alohomora, but would prevent the book from being summoned.

But…what if Snape was telling the truth? What then? Harry couldn't really believe that Snape wanted to be a father to him…but what if? It was a scenario that was too far beyond Harry's comprehension at the moment.

Harry decided that the only thing he could do was just keep his mouth shut as much as possible and try to get along with Snape the best he could. It wouldn't be easy. Harry knew his patience tended to run thin where Snape was concerned and the same was true for Snape about Harry.

Oh, well…One day at a time, Harry reminded himself.

Harry slowly came out of his musings and had his first real look around is new room. He really must have been off his head yesterday after that potion Snape gave him. How could he not notice this room? "No wonder I had a headache yesterday," he mumbled to himself.

The room was positively garish! Why was it, that everyone just assumed that every Hogwarts' student wanted to decorate everything in their House colours? There was something to be said for House pride, but this room was even more ridiculous than the dorms.

Did Snape do this? Harry wondered, surely not.

Harry stumbled across the cold stone floor to the loo in his bare feet. He refused to look in the mirror over fear of what he might see and turned on the faucet in the basin to let the water run. As he sloshed cold water over his face, Harry groused that he should have put some socks on. He was going to have to get a decent pair of house shoes before he caught his death living in the dungeon.

The cold water had shocked Harry out of his remaining morning lethargy. Like it or not, it was time to buck-up and face his Professor. There was no time for a shower if he was going to eat. Harry resigned himself to taking one after breakfast.

Harry came out the loo and stifled one last yawn as he plodded towards his chamber door. He opened the door and jumped back in surprise.

"Holy crap!"

Harry's grabbed his chest in an effort to keep his heart from running off.

There stood Snape in all of his ebony clad glory, ready to pound Harry in the face with his fisted hand. Apparently, he was about to knock on Harry's door again. His gaunt face looked just as astonished as Harry felt.

Snape composed himself rather quickly, but Harry found his voice first. "I know…breakfast," he said as he tried to excuse his way past Snape.

Snape silently stepped aside and let Harry pass. Harry's spine crawled as Snape kept his scrutiny focused on Harry. Apparently Snape wasn't a morning person either but he still fussed. "Are you always such a lie-a-bed, Potter," Snape asked as he followed Harry down the corridor.

"Not normally," Harry said dryly as he entered the kitchen. "But yesterday was an extraordinarily harrowing day."

For a split moment, both he and the professor were taken aback. Harry knew he could be snappish when he was peeved, but had he always sounded this much like Snape. From the strained look on the Potion Master's face, Snape was mulling over the same thought.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and noticed only a single place setting. Snape had obviously already eaten, but had forethought enough to place a warming spell in the serving dishes. Harry thought it a nice enough gesture, but it did nothing for his mood as the kindness only served to turn Harry's world on end again.

Harry reached across the table and served himself a bowl of porridge from the tureen and placed a couple of slices of bacon on his plate. Harry was about to add a healthy tablespoon or two of sugar, when the sugar bowl suddenly disappeared out of his hand.

"Hey!" Harry said in protest as he looked up at Snape whose hooked nose was buried in the morning Daily Prophet. "Did you do that?"

Snape said nothing, but Harry watched as the man's calloused hand slid a banana across the table. Harry hadn't even seen the fruit on the table.

Harry still could not see the dour man's face for the newspaper, but Snape's seemingly disembodied voice did say, "There's honey right there if you need it."

Harry peeled the banana with more vigour than was necessary. He began to slice it into the bowl with the edge of his spoon and said, "If you're so against sugar, why did you have it on the table to begin with?"

Snape still did not look up from his paper. Harry heard a bit of the familiar Snape-irritation in two words, "House-elves," as if that explained everything. And strangely enough, it did.

Harry ate in silence as Snape continued to read his morning paper and casually sip his coffee. Every now and again, Harry swore he felt the professor's obsidian gaze on him, but when he looked up the professor's eyes would still be focused on the damn paper.

Harry didn't know why the professor's silence grated at him so. How many times in the past had he just wished Snape would shut up and leave him the hell alone? Harry really didn't know what he expected Snape to say…just…something.

Harry was of two minds over Snape. Every fibre of Harry's instinct was telling him not to trust his Potion's professor. But then the book kept plaguing Harry's mind. Harry would be lying to himself if he said that hadn't been touched by the gift.

Despite himself, Harry began to think on it again. There was no denying, that book had special meaning to Snape. He wouldn't have kept it for twenty-five years if it hadn't. Harry just couldn't understand why Snape gave it to him. A part of Harry…deep down…wondered if that meant Snape thought he was special. But Harry dismissed any such notions. No one had ever thought of him as that special.

Well, that was not entirely true. The wizarding world only thought Harry was special because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry was certain that even Sirius only though he was special because Harry happened to look like his da…James Potter.

How long will that last, Harry sadly wondered to himself.

Harry's last words to his godfather were in anger. This bit about Harry being Snape's son and not James Potter's would certainly make Sirius hate Harry now.

Harry could no longer stand the silence.

Only the scraping of Harry's spoon against his bowl, the clinking of Snape's coffee cup and the rustling of that bloody paper, broke it and Harry finally snapped, "You don't actually read that rag do you?"

Without bothering to look up from his paper, Snape casually responded, "Know thy Enemy."

Harry scowled at the non-answer answer and tossed his serviette into his empty bowl. The dirty dishes popped away. "Hey…why did you have to clean up after dinner last night? Why didn't everything just pop away?"

"The house-elves did not prepare dinner. It would hardly seem right to ask them to clean up after."

It was a lame excuse and Harry knew it. The house-elves would have jumped all over the chance to clean up after them last night. But Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sudden image of Snape wearing one of Hermione's flashing S.P.E.W badges. "You ought to talk with Hermione."

As if Snape read his mind, the Potion's Master sardonically replied, "I think not."

Harry was about to excuse himself and go outside to get some flying time and hopefully clear his thoughts when Snape held up his hand, indicating he did not want Harry to leave yet.

Snape methodically folded his paper and laid it on the table next to his now empty coffee cup. They too, popped out of sight, leaving the dining table bare since the first time Harry could recall.

"How is your summer homework coming along?" Snape asked without preamble.

Harry was caught off guard by the innocuous question. "Fine actually," he said nervously as he scratched the back of his head. "I've managed to finish my Transfiguration and Charms essays. I'm over half-way through Herbology but I've only just started in on yours. I still need to pick out four more plants, write my essay, and come up with three potions projects… Not much really."

Snape's eyes narrowed at Harry's overt sarcasm, but to Harry's surprise, once again the Potion's Master said nothing. Harry could tell that Snape was actually having some sort of internal struggle over addressing Harry's cheek…or he was fighting an internal bout with gas…either one.

"Bring me your completed essays. I'll proofread them and give them back so you can correct any errors," Snape said firmly. "The sooner it is done…the sooner you can enjoy your summer."

"Rewrite my essays? You're having a go at me, right?" Harry said calmly at first, before is irritation started to rise. "I've got enough work to catch up on as it is."

"How am I supposed to rewrite my essays and get your mountain of homework done?" Harry complained. "I don't even know what half the plants on your list look like."

"Did the flowers inexplicably disappear from Surry this summer?" Snape asked snappishly. "Certainly you've had time this past month to venture outside. Or were you too caught up in those infernal Muggle video games to bother with your homework?"

Harry was too angry to ask how the hell Snape knew what a video game was. He wasn't about to put up with Snape's pre-conceived notions anymore. "For your information I only just started the other day! It's kind of hard to know what my bloody homework is when my books are locked away!"

Damn!

From the perplexed expression that just crossed Snape's face, Harry knew he said too much. "What do you mean your books were locked away Po…Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry said too quickly to sound convincing. "I'll just get it done."

Harry resigned himself to a summer that promised no respite when he heard Snape say under his breath, "Perhaps once the trial has past, I can take you to my cottage near Goblin Combe."

Snape had an odd look on his face and Harry wasn't certain if the man was speaking to him or mumbling to himself. Then Snape finally spoke up and said, "The estate has an abundance of flora used in potions making. I would allow you to take advantage of the greenhouses, however, that would border on cheating. You may also find the private library at the manor house has a far more relevant reference material than even the school library."

"An estate," Harry wasn't sure he heard correctly. "You have an estate? I thought you were just a teacher."

"Left to me by my grandfather Prince," Snape said matter-of–factually, "I have not been there in almost ten years, but the house-elves have kept it in order…I hope," Snape added as if there might be some doubt.

"You'd let me do that?" Harry said, still not believing what he was hearing. "That's it! Who are you and what have you done with Professor Snape?"

"You may find it advantageous to be the Potion Master's son…Harry," Snape hesitated uncertainly at Harry's name but then added with a sly smirk. "You don't think that I would show favouritism towards my House and not to my own son, do you?"

Harry's heart dropped. His son? Was Snape really thinking that Harry might want to be his son? He had a lot of ner….

Oh no… People would know. What was he going to tell Ron and Hermione? And what of Malfoy? What if he found out? If Harry changed enough during the term, Malfoy would certainly go straight to his father with this news and then Voldemort would…

"No!" Harry shouted. His face warmed with embarrassment from his sudden outburst and he said more calmly…if only slightly, "We can't let people know about this. We can't let people know I'm your…" Harry couldn't bring himself to say the word again.

"Harry, if your friends are truly loyal, it will not matter that I'm…"

"It's not that," Harry interrupted. Well…it was partly. "I was talking about you. You're a spy. What if the wrong people find out?"

Snape arose from his chair and took a hesitant step towards Harry. Harry instinctively stepped back and Snape stopped where he was. A strange look flashed across the Potion Master's face. Harry thought it almost looked like pain.

It cut Severus to the quick to know that his son did not want to acknowledge him. And to see him shy away was almost unbearable. But Severus had no one to blame for that but himself. He refused to let anyone know how much it hurt him, so Severus put the pain behind his shields and continued to explain the facts to his son in his academic tone.

"It is true…we must keep this information secret for now, however, it may soon prove to be irrelevant." Snape said somewhat darkly. "You will change Harry…and it appears that subtle changes have already begun…your hair…your height. We don't know how extensive the change in your appearance will be. Soon, I may not be able to deny your paternity, even if I wished to."

Severus could tell that Harry was shaken. The whole notion of the truth of his paternity was overwhelming, no doubt. The boy would not want his looks to change and Severus could hardly blame him. What would that be like to wake up and see a stranger in the mirror every day? James Potter had grown into a rather handsome man and it looked as though Harry was to follow in his footsteps. Now the boy suddenly found out he would probably favour a greasy-haired, paled-faced git with a crooked nose.

But Harry astonished Severus when he asked, "But what about you? What if Voldemort finds out?"

Severus hissed at the sound of the Dark Lord's name and there was a clear look of distrust on Harry's face. He could feel it ripple of the boy's aura. Severus would have to address the Dark Lord's name issue with Harry later, but if Severus made mention of it now, he could irrevocably snap the tenuous rapport he was beginning to build with his son.

"Do not trouble yourself with my situation, Harry," Severus said reassuringly, ignoring Harry's slight as he walked into the sitting room and took his favourite chair. "I'm quite adept at keeping secrets."

Severus made a show of his disregard over others finding out by brushing a non-existent piece of lint from his trouser knee.

Harry tentatively followed Severus in and sat on the far end of the sofa. The boy looked as if he were about to say something, but Severus cut him off. "Rest assured, if I should be discovered, I do have… contingency plans."

Harry nodded his understanding, but the boy still looked conflicted over something.

Obviously, Harry was wrestling with some issues he was not ready to discuss and was apparent by how artlessly the boy changed the topic. "Uh…who decorated my room?"

Severus was inwardly surprised that Harry changed the subject so readily. But being as they were getting into a sticky topic, Severus inwardly sighed his relief and was more than happy to oblige.

"That credit for that lies solely with the Headmaster." Severus wasn't about to take credit for decorating Harry's room.

"You may express your appreciation next time you see him." Severus desperately tried to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching. Albus thought that Severus' complaint about burgundy and gold was due only to his disdain for Gryffindor (well… it was in part). But the colours were enough to burn holes into ones brain.

"Yeah…I'll do that." Harry said sardonically. "You know, you ought to develop some kind of potion for the Headmaster. If my room and his robes are any indication, he must be colour blind."

Severus nearly laughed aloud at that. He had to admit, the boy had a sense of wit that nearly matched his own, but his dignity was saved when the Floo came to life. He and Harry both paused, expecting to see a head to pop through the fire and ask for entrance. Instead, a post flew through and smacked Harry on the head.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed more from astonishment than pain, as he grabbed the letter from mid-air.

"I do believe that post is for you." Severus' amusement was more apparent than he cared to let on, but there was nothing to be done for it. He arose from his chair and gestured for Harry to follow.

"Apparently the sender wanted to make sure that the letter would end up only in your hands," Severus explained the violent delivery. He had his suspicions that the post was from Harry's godmutt, but one could never be 100% certain. "It may be charmed or cursed. I have a special opener that will disperse any Dark Magic that might be attached."

Harry arose and followed Severus into his study. The boy seemed morosely resigned when he said, "No…there's no Dark Magic. It's from Sirius."

Severus sat in a large padded black leather office chair behind a semi-circular teak-wood desk. He indicated for Harry to take the chair across from him. Harry obligingly sat without looking up. The boy was still fixated on the address of the post.

If Black's reaction to Severus' guardianship of Harry was any indication, the mutt would be rabid when he discovered this latest news about Severus' paternity.

Ordinarily, Severus would have thought that Black's reaction would be quite the pisser. But as he looked over at a very dejected Harry, and the boy continued to stare at his unopened letter, the situation did not seem quite so amusing as it once would have been.

"Are you going to open it? It is obviously not a howler." Severus was making an attempt to sound unconcerned, but the tactic did not sound natural coming from him. It sounded a bit snippy instead.

"I know it's not a howler!" Harry shot back, then groaned miserably, "I just don't know if I want to read what he has to say."

"There's something we both agree upon," Severus muttered under his breath. Harry gave him a cross look. His narrowed eyes were eerily reminiscent Severus' and Severus took noticed. "However, our motives differ," he mumbled quickly as he tried to soften his previous statement.

Harry looked slightly mystified.

"Read your letter Harry. Otherwise you will ruminate on it until you make yourself ill." Severus did manage to sound slightly more sympathetic that time.

"You may read it alone if you wish," Severus offered, rather magnanimously, he thought.

"No…I might as well do it now or I probably never will. I'm sure you'll find out what's in it during our Occlumency lesson anyway." The boy twitched. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to accuse."

"No offence taken, Po…Harry," Severus said then managed to add, "I understand your concern."

The look on Harry's face said that the boy doubted if Severus understood anything about him, which Severus hated to admit, was probably true.

Severus took a copper-plated letter opener out of the drawer and offered it to Harry from across his desk.

Harry reached out and hesitated a bit. Then, with a stern look of determination, Harry snatched the opener from Severus' hand and ripped the instrument through the wax sealed envelope. Harry jerked the letter from its covering and gave it a cursory glance.

"Sirius apologised," Harry said numbly. The speed in which the boy scanned the post and the blank expression on his face, gave Severus pause for concern. Something had happened where Harry obviously wanted no dealings with his beloved godfather. What had Black done?

"Did you actually read it," Severus asked.

"Oh." The boy looked sheepish, as if he was just caught in a half-truth.

Severus was starting to get inpatient with Harry's hesitancy, but kept his impatience hidden from his son the best he could… at least for the time being. The tension in the boy's face was so tight; he looked as if he would snap under the slightest breeze.

Severus struggled to keep is tone neutral as he asked, "What did he apologise for?"

"Good question," Harry muttered under his breath, unaware that Severus could still hear him. Severus wondered if the boy was aware that he was reading the letter aloud.

"Dear Harry, I am so sorry. There is nothing I can say that will excuse my behaviour towards you this past Friday. I had hoped that we would have a chance to spend a little time together before you were given over to," there was a slight pause as if the boy was reading over something or making an internal correction, "Snape's care… I was looking forward to regaling you with stories of James and Lily. You are so much like your father. Please Harry, accept my apology. I should regret it for the rest of my life if I drove my best friend's son away. If I should drive you away, James would never forgive me and I, in turn, would never forgive myself. I promise that I will always be here for you, Harry. Nothing will ever change that. You are my family…and…you will always find family in me. Your loving godfather, Sirius."

Harry reiterated, "He apologises for arguing with me on Friday." Apparently the boy had not been aware that he recited the entire letter. Severus decided that it was best to keep it quiet.

Instead Severus feigned as if he hadn't heard Harry's mumblings, "And why doesn't that hearten you," he asked.

Harry said somewhat hesitantly, "Um…well…He never apologised for what he said about you." He continued in a whisper, "and he still thinks that I'm Ja...James' son."

"About me?"

Harry breathed out an exhaustive sigh. One would think that the boy was giving confession to a priest. "Yeah…our argument was about you."

Severus wondered if he looked as gob-smacked as he felt as Harry continued with his explanation. "I was angry at how callous he was about how Mum and Da…James treated you."

Harry hung his head, his expression hidden behind his lunatic fringe, but then the boy hesitantly looked up and fixed his haunting green eyes on Severus, looking for a reaction.

Severus knew his face had frozen with astonishment. If you had told him only the day before that Harry Potter had felt a sense of moral outrage on behalf of Severus Snape…well it was just plain unbelievable, that's what it was.

"I don't know what to say," Severus admitted in his bewilderment.

Harry shook his head and said, "There's nothing to say, I may not have liked you…I don't know that I do now…But it's wrong to take pleasure in the pain of others. Godfather or not…I won't stand for it."

Severus sat back in his chair. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Harry Potter had defended Severus Snape against his godfather over apparent wrongs that were committed by his sainted parents a decade-and-a-half ago. It was if the world had flipped over and Severus was still hanging up-side down.

"I'm touched, Harry," Severus said in all sincerity. Severus felt, however, that he should say more for his son's sake.

"But I am not totally blameless in my dealings with Black. I do not like him…but he is your godfather. Your mother would have never allowed James to name him as such if Black did not have some redeeming qualities, loathe though I am to admit it."

Harry turned his face towards Severus and gave a timid, half-hearted smile. "You know…I thought the same thing about you."

That nagging paternal instinct that had plagued Severus since his second visit to the Pensieve was buzzing in his brain and pressing on his heart. He felt a very real need to comfort his son. It was such an unfamiliar and awkward sensation.

For fifteen years Harry had known James Potter to be his father, and Black had appealed to Harry in the late Potter's name. No doubt the boy felt he was betraying Potter's memory. The identity crisis the boy must be experiencing at the moment had to be crushing.

Severus resisted the urge to arise and physically touch Harry. Frankly, he wasn't certain he was ready, and he was more that certain the boy would recoil from him. Instead, Severus remained in his chair, and folded his hands in his lap until his knuckles turned white.

"Harry," Severus began, hoping he could find the words the boy would find comforting. "Don't worry yourself over my feelings where Black is concerned. The animosity between us runs long and deep and our feelings are mutual. Trust me. I am not offended by any remark Black makes about me. My only concern is how they affect you." Harry looked up at Severus with those searching eyes. He was looking for truth in Severus, and Severus was all too aware of it. He only hoped that Harry recognised it was there. "For your sake…I will do my best to come to some sort of reconciliation."

Severus was unsure if Harry believed him or not.

Harry cast his eyes down so Severus could not see the boy's internal conflict, but there was no way the boy could hide his turmoil. Harry's despair hung over the room like a Dementor longing for a kiss.

"Thank you," Harry said meekly. "But I don't think that it will matter…not when he finds out that I'm your son and not…James'."

The truth may not be easy for Harry to hear, but Severus thought that after four years of mistreatment at his hands, it was about time that Severus showed the boy some compassion. If he was ever going to have any kind of relationship with his son, he had to start now. Severus didn't think he deserved it, but he owed it to Lily...and to Harry. "Black will not take this news easily. But I assure you, it is I who will be the focus of his rage…not you. However, if the man has any integrity at all, he will not let your parentage change his feelings for you."

It galled Severus to defend Black. Only a few days ago, Severus wouldn't have thought twice about demoralising Harry in regards to his goddog.

Harry was still understandably fearful. Too many unasked questions hung in the air. But Severus was nearly knocked over by the next one Harry asked.

"Sir…why do you keep calling me Harry? You've been calling me Harry all morning...except when you're irritated."

Severus blinked in order to clear the buzzing from out of his brain. He hadn't even realised, so he made up the most plausible excuse he could think of, unfortunately, it was also pretty weak. "Well…last time I heard, it was your name. Was it not?"

"I guess…I mean… yes…of course. But you've called me 'Potter' for going on four years. Why change now?"

In truth, Severus did not know the answer to that, at least none he cared to admit quite yet. So he gave Harry a honest, if ambiguous answer, "Circumstances have changed."

Understandably, the answer did not seem to satisfy Harry, but the boy did not press the issue any further. This time the boy asked uncertainly, "Um…what should I call you?"

Was this boy going too constantly put Severus in a state of shock with his questions?

What should he call me?

If Severus wanted to remain distant, he would just have the boy continue to call him 'Professor' or 'Sir.' If Severus really wanted to be heartless, he would force Harry to call him 'Father.' Any other endearments Severus was, as of yet, unworthy and may never be.

But the boy had to call him something. "I suppose…if you feel comfortable…you may call me 'Severus' in private. Once term comes, you will have to refer to me as 'Sir' or 'Professor' in the classroom. But that would be appropriate under any circumstance."

Harry nodded his acceptance. He carefully folded his missive from his godfather, arose from the sofa and crammed it in his back pocket.

"If you don't mind, Si…Severus," the boy said, trying the name awkwardly for the first time. "I have to finish up my homework."

Severus arose too, tucking at the sleeves of his frockcoat. "I'll be in my private lab should you need me," Severus said as Harry headed back to his room.

"Oh…and Harry?"

"Yes, S…Severus?"

"Remember, Occlumency at 5:30."

Severus looked up at the clock on the wall of his private lab. Despite the music overhead that he always played when he brewed privately, Severus had managed not to lose himself, and consequently, track of time. It was almost 5:00. The Dreamless Sleep potion had just turned the proper shade of deep purple and there would be exactly enough time to bottle it before it was time for Harry's first Occlumency lesson.

Severus had brewed the Dreamless Sleep specifically for Harry. For many novices, Occlumency was hard on the psyche under the best of circumstances. If there was a connection between Harry and the Dark Lord as Albus suspected, there were bound to be rough nights ahead.

The pain Harry would experience from his transformation would be unavoidable. Thankfully, Severus had stocked up on his stores of Bruise Paste, Essence of Dittany, and several various and sundry pain elixirs when it became obvious that the Dark Lord was affecting his return. It was a toss-up as to who would need them more in the coming months—Severus or Harry.

Tomorrow morning, Severus would begin drawing up the syllabi for the term. Normally, he would save this particularly loathsome task until the week before term began, but this summer, Severus felt pressed for time.

Severus' life changed in the blinking of an eye, and he would have to adjust as quickly. This year, the Dark Lord had returned, and even if Severus didn't have the added responsibility of training and caring for Harry, Severus' time was no longer his own and he had to be prepared if the Dark Lord summoned. He was now grateful that Albus had relieved him of brewing medicinal potions for the school stores. For some reason, Severus doubted that the Board of Governors would accept down-time needed for recuperation after Death Eater meetings as an excuse for not having his lesson plans in order.

Severus' responsibility to Harry no longer stopped at insuring that that the boy came out the other end of the war physically intact. His obligation to Harry's well-being was no longer contractual…it was instinctual. It was so instinctual, in fact, Severus had scarcely been aware that he had changed too. Now, Severus was pondering when would be the best time to take Harry to Diagon Alley for his school books, and to have him fitted for new school uniforms.

Actually, Severus had assumed that Harry's attire had just been part of the boy's disregard towards authority…rebellion, if you will. But this morning Harry had said something, that now Severus had time to think back on it, rung alarm bells in his head.

What did Harry mean by his books had been 'locked' away? Severus replayed the conversation with Harry in his brain, and he had come to the conclusion he had heard the boy correctly. Severus did pick up on it at the time, however, the conversation had taken another direction and Severus did not have the time to re-address it.

It certainly did not make sense. The fact that Harry said his books were locked away indicated that the boy was incapable of retrieving them. Not even Petunia would deny a child access from doing their homework. She had been raising the Boy-Who-Lived. Surely she would be concerned about being perceived as an ill-suited caregiver should her nephew perform academically poorly. Petunia had always been concerned with the perceptions of others.

True, only a few days afore, Severus would have bet Galleons that Harry had been lying and would have revelled in the stern punishment he would have meted out to the boy.

The boy was a terrible liar. If Severus had a Knut for every time he caught Harry Potter in a lie, he would be a rich man. Well…Severus was already a rich man, but that was beside the point. This time Harry hadn't lied, and Severus was determined he would get down to the bottom of what had happened.

In the meantime, Severus would see to it that Harry caught up with his school work. Even if Petunia were content in letting her nephew eke by in his classes, Severus would never stand for it from his son.

Severus had the means to provide for his son and that was exactly what he intended to do. Harry would have the best that Severus could provide in everything…food…shelter…clothes…access to learning, even if the boy protested and he had to drag Harry kicking and screaming along the way to do so.

Suddenly Severus had visions of turning into Lucius Malfoy in regards to his only son. Severus had no intention of spoiling Harry, but he would provide the best his money could buy…simply because he wasn't certain he had anything else to give…or anything else that Harry would want.

Severus capped the final phial and placed it in a small rectangular, wooden box along with five others, with cotton batting stuffed between the phials to keep them from breaking. He had four other boxes just like it and he left them on the table to be stored later. The Dreamless Sleep would store for six months. Merlin forbid if Harry needed more than that.

As Severus silenced his music and Noxed the lights in his lab, he took a cleansing breath. If he didn't know better, Severus would swear he was nervous about this first Occlumency lesson. He knew Harry would be. This lesson would be the first real test between himself and Harry. Severus knew he would have to tread lightly. The session would be uncomfortable for Harry under the best of circumstances. In the end, it would go either one of two ways—it would set the first foundation of what could eventually be an unbreakable bond of trust, or it would drive his son away forever. If Harry even spoke to Severus tomorrow, then there would be hope that they were on the right path.

Harry was getting frustrated now. He was having difficulty finding any more mundane plants with magical uses. Magical plants he could find everywhere. If the Whomping Willow had been an Ordinary-Everyday-Plain-Boring-Willow, Harry could have used the bark from that for one of his potion's projects. Harry did manage to get some leaves and bark off a Yew tree, because he thought he had read somewhere that they were used in potions, but he wasn't even sure about that. He supposed that was the one drawback of living in a Magical castle. The Magic permeated everything around it. Or perhaps the Magic was in the land itself. Maybe that's why the Founders built the school there to begin with.

Now Harry was really hoping that the professor would follow through on his suggestion to take Harry to Goblin's Combe. Harry knew that Snape was at least telling Harry the truth about the abundance of plant life that grew there. There was some sort of nature preserve at Goblin's Combe. When Harry and Dudley were together in Year Six, the entire class set off on a weekend school trip there. Of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon denied Harry permission to go. Harry missed out and when the class resumed on Monday, Harry felt bitter resentment on all of the fun he missed out on.

But Snape said he had a place there—or near there. Harry didn't remember anyone mention a grand estate nearby, but that meant nothing in the Magical world. Just like almost all other things Magical, it was probably hidden from the eyes of Muggles with various protection charms and enchantments.

Harry still had trouble processing the past few days. Thus far, living at Hogwarts with Snape…Severus (Harry supposed he should get used to calling the Potion's Master that, even in his head.) was still being decent to Harry and Harry still didn't know what to think about that.

And Severus had said something that morning that had rattled Harry all day, Soon, I may not be able to deny your paternity, even if I wished to, he had said. What did the man mean by that?

Harry had almost been inclined to believe that Snape had misspoke, but never in the years Harry had been acquainted with the Potion's Master had he known the man to say anything less than what he truly meant.

Harry didn't know what to make of that. It almost sounded as if Sn…Severus wanted to claim Harry as his son. But that just couldn't be right…could it? What would Harry do if Snape suddenly insisted? Harry didn't want to be Harry Snape…but would Harry even have the power to stop such a thing? He wouldn't be in his majority for another two years and a simple Paternity Charm would prove to the Wizengamot that Snape had every right to Harry.

It was enough to make Harry feel a bit gippy, actually.

Then there was this Occlumency business tonight. Despite what the Headmaster had said, it all sounded too much like mindreading to Harry. Even though Sn…Severus had told him that there weren't any helpful books on the subject, Harry had made a trip down to the library anyway. Without Madam Pince there to lend out the books, they could not go beyond the confines of the library.

Harry had made certain to finish up his Herbology assignment first, then spent another hour and a half looking up whatever obscure information on Occlumency he could find. Apparently, it was a very rare Magic and Snape was right, what little Harry did find written on the subject was excruciatingly vague. No wonder Snape said the books could do more harm than good.

But all of this left Harry feeling woefully unprepared for what he would be facing tonight and frankly, he was scared. The thought that Snape could be prancing about his head was disturbing enough, (then again, the thought of Snape prancing about under any circumstances was disturbing), but according to Dumbledore, if Harry failed to learn Occlumency, Voldemort could get into his head and drive him mad. There weren't powerful enough words in the world could describe how terrifying that prospect was to Harry.

As much as he knew it was too much to ask for, Harry really wished he could just have a normal life…A life that was free of Dark Wizards, and where Harry could be the part of a proper family with parents of his own who would support him and his biggest worry was how he was going to reconcile Quidditch practice with his Charm's homework. Other kids Harry's age had all of that. Why couldn't he? Harry might try to fool himself into thinking that he didn't need a parent after all of these years, but he knew it was a lie. He was maddly jealous of Ron and Hermione and the relationships they had with their families…especially Ron.

Harry wondered if his friend realised how very lucky he was. Ron grew up in a household where both of his parents loved him to the morrow, and had brothers and a sister that would come to his aid and lay their lives down for him if need be, and Ron would do the same for them. Harry knew Ron would do the same for him as well, despite…or even or precisely…because of their row last autumn during the Triwizard Tournament.

Looking back, Harry could understand why his friend had been such a prat. How easy it must be for the youngest son to get lost amongst the chaos of such a large family. With Harry, Ron had someone he could confide in when the rest of the world seemed too busy to notice him. When Ron thought Harry had added his name to the Goblet of Fire without consulting him, Ron must have felt like he was being cast aside. True, Ron should have believed Harry when Harry said he had not put his name in the cup, but pain oftentimes clouds reasoning. When Ron had finally come to Harry and admitted he was wrong and Harry accepted the apology, it had cemented their friendship that much more. During that entire time he and Ron were angry with one another, Ron never divulged any of Harry's secrets and he never lied to or about Harry. It was something that Harry had been very keen to notice.

Harry just hoped that cement had enough time to solidify. Ron hated Snape every bit as much as Harry… had…did…had?

What would Ron say once he found out Snape was Harry's father? Harry knew Ron wouldn't hold it against him that Snape was Harry's father. But Harry and Snape were supposed to bond because of this Occlumency. What would Ron say if that happened? Harry knew even if Ron threw a fit, he would eventually come around, but it could definitely make Harry's life even more pear-shaped for a while, and frankly Harry didn't need that right now. Harry had no worries about Hermione. She would support Harry no matter what. It was just that Ron was so unpredictable. It was a trait of his red-headed friend that made him fun and infuriating all at the same time.

But still, Ron was the closest thing that Harry had to a brother and the rest Weasley's had always tried to make Harry feel as if he belonged with them, and for that, Harry was eternally grateful, but he always was plagued with a nagging feeling that he was just borrowing for a while.

Harry wanted that for his own…or at least something similar. Harry wondered if it were possible to have that something similar with Severus but then pushed that notion to the back of his mind.

Once again, to hope that the Potion's professor had changed so much was too good to be true, and as much as Harry had hoped otherwise, a good life just didn't seem to be meant for the likes of Harry Potter.

At fifteen minutes after five, Severus heard the door to his quarters slam shut. He almost removed his wand, thinking he had an intruder, until he remembered that Harry had his password. Severus came out of his private lab and into the kitchen. Just as he approached the arch that led to the sitting room, Severus caught a flash of what he could only assume was a teenaged boy streak by.

Harry was already to his bedroom door when the boy called out. "Taking a shower first—be right out."

Severus still hadn't figured out why the Headmaster saw fit to give Harry an en suite when there were perfectly suitable facilities at the end of the corridor. Severus didn't even have an en suite.

Severus could hear the shower water echo through the pipes in the walls. It occurred to him that during the summer when he was normally alone, Severus wasn't accustomed to formal meals. When he wasn't at the castle, he usually just through together a quick sandwich or went out to eat if he wanted a real meal. But Harry hadn't had supper yet and Occlumency could take hours. Severus cursed himself because he should have insisted that Harry come back for tea before they began the lesson, then he came up with a rather unorthodox notion that would feed Harry and hopefully simultaneously but the boy at ease.

By the time the boy had finally emerged from his chambers his sock clad feet, his damp hair and skin smelling of balsam shampoo and anti-bacterial soap, Severus had arranged for the house-elves to set High Tea on the coffee table. The offended elf was about to protest rather loudly about High Tea being taken in the living room, that is until Severus threatened him with a full set of robes.

Harry seemed surprised at the informality. "Oh," he said has he stuffed his hands in his grey hooded sweatshirt. "Aren't we going to do Occlumency?"

"Of course we are," Severus said mildly as poured out a cup of tea and passed it to Harry. "I though perhaps first we should eat whilst you ask questions."

Perhaps it was something to do with Severus' uncharacteristically calm approach, but it looked as though all of the blood had drained from the boy's face as he absently took the teacup from Severus' extended hand.

It took a good bit of effort for Severus to keep is features under control. The look on Harry's face was absolutely comical. "I think you should sit down before you fall down, Harry."

Thankfully for the Harry, there was actually a sofa there to support him as mutely sank into the cushions.

The boy had yet to sip from his tea. He rather looked as if he were hit by Stunning Hex. Once again, resisting the temptation to make a biting remark to the boy because he had yet to recover from his stupor, Severus reached over to the table and picked a plate for himself.

"You need to eat, Harry," Severus said as he piled his plate with a slice of roast beef, a wedge a Cheshire cheese, a boiled egg and a pickled cucumber. "Learning Occlumency is quite taxing, physically as well as mentally."

Something in the boy's eyes seemed to shift, and Harry's baser teenaged instincts seemed to take over. He finally took a sip of his tea and said, "Thank you, Sir…I mean Severus," then put his cup on the table and began to help himself to a plate of food.

The tactic seemed to work as fifteen minutes later Harry was chatting openly to Severus. Harry idly talked of finishing his Herbology essay and lamenting about the lack of mundane flora growing about Hogwarts and his theory as to why, which Severus had to agree that the second was basically correct.

Harry had started in on his Trifle, when Severus decided that it was time to begin.

Severus took one last sip of oolong, and placed his cup and saucer on the table. Harry immediately noticed the atmosphere change in the room, and wearily continued with his Trifle.

Severus once again schooled his features and used his dark academic tone that always demanded attention from students. "Do you have any questions, Harry?"

Harry was obviously nervous. The boy's hand trembled slightly as he placed his Trifle cup on the table. "Yes," he asked with ill-hidden anxiety. "What is Occlumency?"

Once upon a time… like…yesterday afternoon…Severus would have said something rude as an answer to that very appropriate question. But now, Severus took Harry's Occlumency lesson very personally. This wasn't 'Potter', the son of his rival and product of Lily's infidelity. This was Harry, his son…The tangible product of Severus' and Lily's love for one another. Severus was not about to let some crazed megalomaniac with fascist-like delusions of world conquest take Harry from him.

"Occlumency is the art of protecting the mind against external invasion or influence," Severus said stoically, hoping his straight forward and detached approach would keep from panicking Harry. "The Headmaster is concerned that the Dark Lord may have unwittingly created a connection with you that night at the grave yard. You are taking these lessons as a precaution…in the unlikely event that the Headmaster is correct in his assumptions."

"Can he read my mind?"

"The Dark Lord is an accomplished enough Legilimens to correctly interpret your thoughts should you be in his presence unmastered. However, more accurately Legilimency is the ability to extract feelings and memories from the mind of another. Occlumency is the defence against such an invasion."

"So if I happen to be in Voldemort's…"

"Don't…say his name!" Severus snapped as he grabbed his left arm. He could never get Dumbledore to understand that the name was taboo amongst Death Eaters. The Dark Mark was hexed, and would twinge with pain whenever the Dark Lord's name was mentioned in Severus' presence.

Harry looked annoyed at what he apparently considered to be a rude interruption. "As I was saying…If I have to be in 'You -Know -Who's' presence," Harry said almost mockingly. "Does that mean that Dumbledore is expecting my capture? Why else would I have to learn this Occlumency?"

"It is Professor Dumbledore or Headmaster to you Po…Harry," said Severus with a bit of the old familiar chill in his voice. "And mind- your- cheek," he reprimanded.

Harry looked embarrassed, hopefully remembering that thus far, Severus had done nothing that deserved his disdain over the past three days.

"But in answer to your question," Severus resumed in his previous impassive tone as if the incident had not happened. "The Headmaster does not expect your capture. What concerns The Headmaster is that there may be an open 'channel'…as it were…between your minds. Either one of you could unknowingly enter the other's mind and 'see' through the other's eyes. If such a connection does exist and the Dark Lord was to become aware…he would unquestionably use it to his advantage. He could use your fears and manipulate your memories… causing seemingly real visions, with the intention of driving you insane."

Harry looked as though he were frozen…as if he were so quickly shaking with fear, he appeared not to move.

Amazingly, the boy's lips did move and he found his voice…somewhat. "So if I learn how to do this…Occlumency, I mean…I can keep Volde…him…out of my head?"

"No…not initially," Severus said more darkly than he intended. "If you become skilled, you will be able to control what you want him to see. You can bury the truth deep within your shields and create false memories…lies…that he will see as truth. Eventually, you will also be able to eject him forcibly from your mind before he has the opportunity to extract any undesirable information or inflict any real harm to you."

"That's why you're such a good spy, isn't it?" Harry asked, sounding a bit more assured. "You can make him 'see' your loyalty in your mind, can't you?"

"Well deduced," Severus said with a slight grin, partly from self-righteous pride, partly from pride in his son's insight.

"Wow," said Harry, looking completely impressed with Severus for the first time. "You can lie in front of V…You-Know-Who's face? It's a miracle that you can walk. You must have bollocks the size of a Mountain Troll's."

"Wow, indeed," Severus gave the slightest snicker.

Harry did his best to compose himself. "So you can teach me how to do this…how to protect my thoughts?"

Severus nodded, "That is the intention…Occlumency is a rare skill. Most wizards and witches don't have enough Magical prowess to learn it."

Harry looked anxious at that, "What makes you think that I can learn it?"

"I must admit that I had my doubts about your capability to learn Occlumency," Severus confessed. "However… I find my opinion has changed as of late."

"Why…because you found out that I'm your son?" Harry said incredulously.

"Precisely," Severus knew his face was impassive, but he could feel his black eyes gleam like Albus Dumbledore's.

Severus sat on the sofa next to Harry and they were turned to face each other. They had never been in such close, personal proximity and the awkwardness between them was palpable once again. But they both knew they would have to overcome their mutual anxiety if this was to work.

The real lesson was about to begin.

"Harry," Severus began, "The first key to mastering Occlumency is to first clear your mind and then to let it wander freely…searching."

"What am I searching for?"

"You are searching for your Element, though not consciously," Severus attempted to explain.

Harry blinked and shook his head as if he were trying to rid himself of a buzzing noise. "Searching for my element? I don't quite understand. How can I unconsciously search for something?"

"Perhaps 'searching' is the wrong term," Severus said slightly under his breath. "I suppose a more apt description would be 'waiting'. You must wait for your Element to compel you…to draw you in."

This time Harry nodded as if he understood the concept more…if only slightly. "What are the Elements I'm looking for," Harry asked. "Why do I need to find one?"

Severus softened his voice to be as smooth as the finest silk so not to jar his son away from his words. "Earth-Wind-Fire and Water…these are the four classical elements that create all that lies within our earthly realm. Most wizards who attempt to learn Occlumency make the fatal error of trying to construct their shields based on man-made objects."

"Like a castle wall, or a vault," Harry said thoughtfully.

Severus gave Harry a nod of acquiescence, indicating to his son he was following the right path. "Mental shields based upon artificial objects are weak and easily penetrated," Severus explained. "The trappings of Wizards and Muggles are but fleeting, Harry, but raw Nature is the most powerful force that binds us all. Raw Nature is eternal. It existed before the Dawn of Man and will continue after we have long since departed from this world. Nature gives life and takes it away. It can create and destroy. Constructing your mental shield around an Elemental barrier will give you an advantage and when utilised properly, can make your mind impenetrable to invasion."

Severus could almost physically feel Harry's anxiety level rise when the boy said, "That sounds rather difficult. What if I can't find my Element?"

"You must find your Element, Harry, or we will inevitably fail," Severus said darkly. "I cannot ask you to defend your mind without the means to do so. That would be akin to mental rape."

"How will I know if I find my Element?

"You will know, Harry."

"But how..."

"How do you breathe?" Harry looked at him, still perplexed. But Severus simply reiterated a palliative tone, "You will know."

Severus could tell that the boy was wrestling with an internal struggle and ever so hesitantly, Harry finally asked, "Will…will you help me?"

"Yes," Severus said reassuringly to his son. "Close your eyes…and trust me."

"Okay," the boy said timidly. Severus knew how almost impossibly hard this was for Harry. It was like diving off of a cliff and having faith that prayers alone were enough to protect you.

"Breathe with me Harry," Severus said. His voice was so soothing, that Severus almost did not recognise it as his own. "In…Out…In…Out…"

Soon they were breathing as one and Severus could tell that Harry was ready.

"Legilimens"

Severus gently evoked the incantation and entered his son's mind.

What Severus found was both heartening… and disturbing.

It was two o'clock in the morning. Harry had gone to bed almost two hours ago, mentally and emotionally exhausted. By the time the Occlumency lesson was over, he was no longer speaking to Severus.

That was something Severus had come to expect, tomorrow whether the boy realised it or not, Harry would grudgingly speak to Severus again...but it sure as hell didn't make what Severus had discovered any easier to accept.

Severus could not sleep. He sat in his chair, single malt in hand. Everything…it was too much…too fast.

For a second, he selfishly thought that perhaps he should have postponed Harry's Occlumency lesson.

He should have given enough time for them to know each other, to know what to expect. Severus certainly did not expect to find what he had.

One thing that Severus discovered was an appreciation for the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio. If it had not been for Weasley and the Granger girl keeping the boy grounded, Harry might have descended into madness...or managed to get himself killed long ago. Even now, both were a distinct possibility.

Unfortunately, Harry had been isolating himself from the very friends that had managed to keep him alive and sane. Harry's feelings of guilt over the Diggory boy's death were unfounded, but it still cut deep. If something were to happen to Granger or Weasley…Severus was afraid that Harry might turn his wand on himself.

The rub was that Harry's concern over the Weasleys and the Grangers being targeted for death was not unfounded; however, isolating himself from them would not change that fact.

Like it or not, Harry's little friends and their families were involved in this war up to their eyebrows. They were going to have to fight eventually. Harry might as well let them fight beside him.

It had occurred to Severus that Harry had fought for his life more times than even he had.

"The boy is only fifteen," Severus said as he mourned for his son's lost childhood.

Already, Harry had witnessed the death of a friend, and the war hadn't really begun yet. How much more was his son going to have to endure at the hands of the Dark Lord?

But that was not the worst of it. Albus' fears had come to fruition. There was a connection between Harry and The Dark Lord. Harry did not know it...and thank Merlin, neither did the Dark Lord...but Harry had 'seen' Severus' meeting with the monster. It was now imperative that Harry learn Occlumency, post haste.

As if having fought off the Dark Lord three times in a span of four years and having him invade the boy's mind wasn't bad enough. Harry had not even been able to turn to the adults who were supposed to be protecting him. They had all failed the boy, Albus…Minerva…Lupin…the Mutt, even he... Severus. But it was the Dursleys…Petunia…who Severus could not absolve.

How could she? Severus lamented.

Petunia had been entrusted and had agreed to care for little Harry. If the situation were reversed, Lily would have cherished Petunia's little piglet. If Severus had been with Lily, even he would have treated the boy as his own.

For all of Petunia's past fascination with magic and Harry's veneration throughout the Wizarding world, Severus had actually thought that she would have spoiled the child for all his celebrity.

Severus couldn't have been more wrong about his would-be-sister-in law.

Severus knew that the death of her parents at the hands of Death Eaters had turned Petunia's fascination of magic into fear. Fear was only one step away from hatred, and apparently, Petunia had come to hate all things magic…especially her sister's son.

Severus had seen the five-year-old-Harry's bum blistered raw when he dropped a china platter he had been washing. It was too big for his tiny hands. Even as he stood on the top step of the stepladder, he could barely reach the basin to wash dishes.

The Dursley's bulbous son laughed as he watched his father take a belt to Harry's bare bottom right there in the kitchen.

The pig-like child was eating his third pudding. Harry was sent to bed without dinner.

Petunia did nothing as she let her whale of a husband beat on her small, defenceless nephew.

Years of cruelty and neglect played out before Severus' eyes. The excessive chores…the occasional, yet brutal beatings… Dudley's bullying…the days on end without a decent meal…the cupboard.

My cupboard, Harry had called it the night the Advance Guard came to escort him to Grimmauld Place. Nobody had caught the meaning.

Petunia had confined Lily's son…his son… to a boot cupboard for ten years.

"TEN YEARS!" Severus cried out as he slammed his glass down hard on the little end table and it shattered.

He looked at the broken glass and his bloody hand. Damn! It was the second in two days. Severus was going to have to resort to Muggle plastic at this rate. Goblin made crystal was too damn expensive.

The pain that shot through Severus' hand had managed to curb his temper. He transfigured the largest shard into a flannel and spelled away the rest of the debris from the table and floor.

With the flannel protecting his good hand, he gingerly cupped his injured one and made way to his private potion's lab.

Once in his lab, Severus made for the medicinal cabinet and took out the bandages soaked in Murtlap Essence. One by one he plucked out the tiny shards with his wand, and then wrapped his hand. The pain eased immediately.

"Ten years," he muttered beneath his breath again, and another four of continued abuse.

Severus cursed his mentor. "Damn you, Albus."

The Headmaster had a rare case of tunnel vision. He had been so set upon keeping Harry safe from Death Eaters; it never occurred to him that Harry might need to be kept safe from his own relatives.

Ironically, Albus had done that exact thing for Severus...protected him from an abusive grandfather. Why hadn't Albus seen the signs in Harry? Why hadn't Severus? Severus saw Harry's cut eye. Why hadn't he caught the boy's lie?

As far as Severus was concerned, Albus could kiss a Dementors arse before Severus would allow Harry to go back the Dursley's. There was more than one way to protect Harry from the Dark Lord.

Number Four Privet Drive was not the only home protected by Blood Wards.

His cottage at the Prince Manor estate near Goblin Combe was also protected by Blood Wards. Merlin himself couldn't find the place without Severus telling him where it was, and he'd still need to 'knock on the door' …as it were…to get in the gates.

Oh, Yes…there would be serious discussions with Albus Dumbledore, as well as Petunia and Vernon Dursley…and soon.

But Severus had reason to feel optimistic that he could help Harry. He had reason to believe that their bond could become stronger than anyone dared hope. Harry's shield was of the same Elemental force as Severus', only a rare few had it.

Many, including Severus, considered it to be the most powerful Element of them all.

Water.

Harry's shield had taken the form of a waterfall. At the moment Harry's falls were as gossamer Thestral wings. Harry could hide his memories easily enough. However a truly skilled Legilimens would make short work of his current shields. But with time, Harry's shields would be as powerful and impenetrable as the Mosi-o-Tunya. And like those colossal falls, whomever tried to invade Harry's mind would have to contend with the mighty Smoke-That-Thunders.

Severus did not know what to make of Harry's Element. He had expected for Harry to have gravitated towards Fire. Fire was, after all, the representative Element of the House of Gryffindor. Albus Dumbledore's mastery over Fiendfyre was a testament to that fact. Water was the Element of Slytherin House.

But of one thing Severus did find reassuring, if given enough time, Harry would be more than capable to protect his mind from the Dark Lord.

It was now Severus' turn to become overwhelmed with exhaustion. He tiredly capped and put away his jar of Murtlap Wraps, then headed for his bedchamber.

As Severus approached the door to his room, he stopped and turned around. After debating and staring at his son's bedroom door for what felt like forever, Severus decided to enter.

He opened the door and walked across the room to Harry's bed and looked down at his sleeping teenager. For brief moment…Severus saw a sleeping infant with a mop of raven hair sleeping in his cot, but the vision had been fleeting.

His poor son.

If Severus could endure Harry's pain in the boy's stead, Severus would do so gladly. What parent worth a Knut wouldn't?

But alas…Severus could not take away Harry's pain, but if he did his job right…Severus could at the very least, help to ease it. He would make damn certain that Harry would never have to struggle through the tribulations of his life alone again.

If Severus was anything, he was a realist. Harry would have tribulations.

Merlin, how he wished they were nothing more than girls and facial blemishes. At least Severus had potions for those.

Harry's problems were not even limited to the Dursleys and the Dark Lord. Next week, Harry would have to go before the Wizengamot, just in an effort to stay in school, not to mention his debacle with his goddog.

If it were up to Severus, he'd summon the Dog Warden on the mongrel and have him neutered. But although Harry would not admit it, the division between himself and Black sorely distressed the boy.

For Harry's sake… Severus would seek reconciliation with Black.

Severus took one last look at Harry. He fought the urge to touch his son's hair. He reached out, but drew his hand back. He had not yet earned that right.

Severus quietly left Harry's room, reluctantly leaving the boy to his dreams. Severus would see to it that Harry's dream of a loving family would be the one dream to become a reality.

Severus would see to it…or die trying.

Harry stepped out of his trousers and pants and gingerly stepped into the bath. He held to both sides of the bathtub and allowed his body to sink in, slowly adjusting to the temperature. Severus had ordered Harry to take a bath every night before bed as opposed to a shower. He said the immersing in bath instead of taking a shower each night helped Harry to centre himself and relax. Severus sure got that one right.

That first Occlumency lesson, Severus had helped Harry to relax. Harry honestly didn't think it was possible to think of nothing, but before long, Harry felt himself floating in a bright void of light and Magic. Severus had called this the Æther. According to Severus, the Æther was sometimes referred to as The Fifth Element or The Void. Its true nature was little understood, but Severus said that all of the other Elements found their origins within the Æther. One could not find their Element, without first finding the Æther.

Few could find it.

It was why Occlumency…true Occlumency…was such a rare gift. It could be learned, but only under the care of an experienced Master (and there were precious few), and only by one who had the serious motivation to learn it.

Harry did not know how long he stayed in that realm of pure being. He never wanted to leave. It wasn't until the next day that he had realised why. There was no pain in the Æther…no memory.

Harry had been engulfed within a soul numbing peace that he had never experienced before. It was the same peace he had been searching for since Cedric's murder but had always eluded him.

But then…there was a quick flash of even brighter light and the void was filled with a thunderous cacophony of sound. Harry could hear the rumblings of a shifting Earth, the deafening roar of an uncontrolled inferno, and the rushing of a mighty wind. Harry had found himself being drawn to the wind at first, when he caught the sound of something else…The sound was so faint, it was almost lost amongst the discord, but it was for that reason that its Siren call to Harry was the strongest.

It was the sound of trickling water.

Suddenly, Harry felt himself in the grasp of the most intense thirst he had ever had and took his first confident step towards the enticing sound of the water. Before he took a second, there was another blinding flash, and Harry had found himself standing stark naked in a lush, green forest.

'Follow what draws you Harry.' Severus' calming voice was faint, but it still filled every corner of Harry's mind and Harry listened.

Harry followed the distant sound of gurgling water. He ignored the sensation of the composting leaves and loamy soil between his toes and the security one felt when being supported by Terra Firma. He ignored the warmth that kissed his cheek as the dappled sunlight broke through the forest canopy, and he ignored the fragrance of exotic flowers in the air. All of this tempting sensation, Harry ignored. All he wanted was the water. He felt he had to quench his thirst lest he die.

After following the babbling sound, running, for what seemed like forever…or perhaps only a second, Harry found what he sought…a stream.

Harry stopped and gazed into the crystal water, mesmerised as the sunshine streamed down, causing his reflection to dance atop the surface.

Unable to stand it any longer Harry knelt down next to the stream, taking no heed of the pain in his knees as they dug into the pebbled bank. Cupping his hands, Harry dipped them into the water and drank.

His thirst was almost immediately quenched, but Harry gasped in astonishment and then let out a soundless scream when he saw what was happening to him. Starting at his fingertips, Harry's flesh and bone turned to water and his body poured into the stream.

'Don't fight it, Harry, 'Severus' reassuring voice said. 'You have found your Element.'

There was something about the Severus' voice. Not only was there a confidence that Harry was, indeed, okay, but Harry could swear he felt an element of pride in the Potion Master's words as well.

And the sensation…

Severus was right. Harry belonged here.

It was the most amazing feeling Harry had ever experience. He wasn't merely in the water…he was the water and in the flowing current that was Harry, he could see and feel the moments of his life, even into his infancy. He could remember his mum…and even James, and he could feel how very much they both loved him. It felt as if he were living the moment.

As the current moved faster, carrying Harry along, the more unpleasant memories of his life began to surface. Not wanting to experience them again, Harry panicked, but he did not know how to pull away.

Once again, it was Severus who helped him. 'Harry, look ahead, you can do this.'

Harry had no idea where his father's voice came from, but he could feel his presence, and un-expectantly, it was comforting. Harry trusted the presence and looked ahead. He was approaching a small set of rapids. His rational brain told him he should try to flee if he could, but instinct and his father's confident spirit gave Harry the courage to take the plunge. As they came to the falls, he heard Severus' voice again.

'As we approach, your memories will momentarily be caught up in the melee of small eddies and whirlpools.'

'What then, Sir,' Harry had asked.

'I will help you as you are not yet strong enough. We must stay amongst the falls. As your memories follow us over, I will help you to retrieve them and protect them there.'

Not knowing what else to do or expect, Harry did as Severus had told him.

He could feel Severus' 'spirit', for lack of a better word, wrap around him. Harry had been astonished that he had not recoiled. Harry had felt safe…safer than he had ever felt in his entire life. Severus was using his own strength to keep Harry's mind suspended in the falls.

Behind the veil of water was a cavern with a vast and deep lake. It was there, that the thoughts and dreams Harry wished to keep secret would remain safe.

Harry watched in awe as his memories began to cascade down before him. Most of them were innocuous enough, though Hermione might have some explaining to do about the Boomslang Skin theft in their second year.

'Reach out with your mind and draw in the next one, Harry,' Severus said.

'How do I do that?'

'Will the memory towards you,' Snape explained.

Harry had thought the explanation was a bit vague, but he still tried. He imagined himself reaching out with his non-existent hand for the next memory that passed. Harry could see it clearly. It was the memory of his first night at Hogwarts. Harry imagined himself reaching out to snatch the memory, but it eluded him and slipped away like quicksilver.

Images of memories continued to flash by like a watery Muggle film, in no particular order and thankfully none had been of his early childhood. Harry had come close to catching a couple more but he continued to miss the target.

'I don't think I can do this,' Harry said in frustration.

Severus replied, 'Trust me, Harry. Let me help you.'

Harry obliged without hesitation. There was something about Severus that Harry couldn't place but he could feel that Snape would not allow Harry to come to any harm.

Of course the next memory to flow down, and the one that Severus caught, was that of Harry and Ron sneaking into the Slytherin Common Room disguised as Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry noticed the slight hint of humour in Severus' voice when he said,'I do believe I owe you and your friends, detention.'

'That was Second Year!' Harry said in lame defence.

'Unfortunately, you, Mr Weasley, and especially Ms Granger are not in America. There is no Statute of Limitations on theft here.'

'Theft! What did we…?'

'Boomslang Skin is a highly expensive ingredient, Mr Potter. Where do you think three twelve-year-olds intended to come up with the Galleons to pay for that loss?'

He could feel Severus debate about something. 'Hmm,' Snape pondered aloud as he helped Harry pluck another memory from the falls and place it in the lake. 'Perhaps someday when I need a particularly unpleasant task performed…?'

'That's blackmail!' Harry protested in outrage.

'That's right,' Snape said smugly. 'And you and your friends will do well to remember that next time you think stealing from my potion cupboard is a wise idea.'

Harry felt like grousing, but for some reason, he felt as if Severus was actually trying to take the mickey out of him. But Harry had discovered long ago that it was never a good idea to make assumptions where Severus Snape was concerned, so he let the topic drop before he landed in any more trouble.

After a couple more attempts with Severus' aid, Harry had finally managed to grab hold of a memory on his own.

'Excellent, Harry,' Severus said encouragingly. 'Let's try a couple of more and we'll stop for the night.'

Harry readily agreed because, frankly, he was knackered. The next memory that fell past, Harry had missed.

Then came the nightmare.

Harry reached out to grab the next memory, and froze in terror.

'Harry…what is this,' Severus asked darkly.

'Nothing!' Harry answered too quickly. To his horror the memory had not fallen past. Severus had grabbed it and held it firmly in place.

'What is this place, Harry,' Severus asked grimly.

'It's my room.' Harry said in a half-lie. 'At least it was until the summer before I started Hogwarts.'

Harry could feel Severus' rage build, like a gathering thunderstorm. 'This is no room, Harry. This is a cupboard. Why are you in a locked cupboard?'

Harry was about to lie and say that Dudley had locked him is as part of a prank, when the unthinkable happened. A flood of memories came cascading down of their own accord, all of them visions of his time with the Dursleys.

'Stop!' Harry mentally screamed in panic. 'Stop it!'

It was all so humiliating. Severus was seeing it all and Harry was helpless to stop it.

The blistering Harry had received for dropping Aunt Petunia's platter had been especially hard to bear. But then came the memories of that night and a harsh voice shouting, 'kill the spare!'Harry could stand it no longer and with a powerful mental shove, he forced Severus out of his brain.

Once Harry was free of the spell, he screamed to Severus until his lungs burned, "Stop it! Just leave me the hell alone," and ran into his room, leaving a rather stunned Severus in his wake.

That first Occlumency lesson had drained Harry. The next day, he had still been angry at Severus, although technically, Severus hadn't done anything wrong. Harry still snapped at him and refused to apologise.

Snape had casually answered, "There is no need. As I recall, after my first Occlumency lesson with the Headmaster I told him to," Severus cleared his throat so to emphasise his words. "Get out of my fucking head, you bloody goat-faced bastard'," he said offhandedly before taking another sip of coffee. Then Severus mumbled something about the Headmaster mentioning that Severus had mistaken him for his brother.

First, Harry remembered being stunned that Severus had used the 'F' word, and then even more astonished that a teenaged-Severus Snape had managed to see his majority after insulting the Headmaster with the same word…and then questioning his parentage to boot.

Honestly, three expletives in one sentence. Harry was impressed.

And did the Headmaster even have a brother?

As reluctant as Harry was to admit, Severus had been doing his best to get along with Harry. Occasionally, the Potion Master would unleash his snark, but not as often as Harry had envisioned. Harry had made a promise to himself, even before finding out that Severus was his father; that he would make an effort to get along with the man if Severus made the effort…and Severus had made more of an effort than Harry dreamed he was capable of. The trust that Harry had in Severus during their Occlumency, because he could feel the Potion Master's sincerity, was now beginning to flow into the real world.

Every night after lessons had ended and Harry had taken his mandatory bath, Severus would come in and help Harry clear his mind before bed. At first, Harry was a bit embarrassed. It did feel a bit like getting tucked in like a toddler. But Harry had never been tucked in as a toddler…not that he could remember, at any rate. Grudgingly, Harry had to admit that it felt rather nice.

Severus had even been there for Harry when Harry had to extract the memory of his Dementor attack for the trial. That had been one of the weirdest sensations of Harry's life. It was as if someone had pulled on a loose string…and the string had been attached to Harry's brain. The thought of it still gave Harry gooseflesh. But once they viewed the memory in the Pensieve, Dumbledore seemed to think the memory was worth the while. Severus looked stoically grim. Harry had just hoped it would be enough for the Ministry to drop the charges. It had worked.

Harry's trial had been scheduled for today, but last night the Headmaster had come down to Severus' chambers to inform them that the charges had been dropped. After the Minister found out that Harry's memories would be brought into evidence, he thought better of bringing a school matter before the Wizengamot.

Harry found it hard to believe that the Minister didn't take this kind of interest two years ago when he really screwed up with Aunt Marge. Although the incident had started out as accidental Magic, Harry let it get out of hand and did nothing to fix it. He wanted to hurt Marge Dursley. Surely hurting a Muggle was a much more serious transgression than defending one. Why did the Ministry turn a blind eye then and not now?

According to Severus, the Minister of Magic was going to have a hard time explaining why he had even contemplated making such a big deal of the use of under-aged Magic. The Ministry was going to start asking the exact same questions they had, especially once Harry's memories came to light.

Severus still wasn't happy though. Apparently, the Minister wasn't concerned with why the Dementors were away from Azkaban to begin with. Severus had taken the Headmaster into his office and cast some sort of privacy spell so Harry couldn't follow the conversation. Harry could tell that voices were raised, and that was all. The rest just sounded like a swarm of buzzing bees.

It chapped Harry that he couldn't hear what was being said. But perhaps what was being said had nothing to do with Harry. Harry had doubted that, but he couldn't help but feel relieved. The trial was one burden off his shoulders…only about a thousand more and he could get on with a normal life.

Harry finally got down to the business of scrubbing himself clean and reached for his towel that sat atop the nearby toilet. As he rubbed himself dry, Harry started thinking about tomorrow's schedule. Now that Harry had the basics of how to mask his real memories, Severus was going to teach Harry how to defend them. This had Harry nervous.

Much to Harry's continued amazement, Severus had not forced Harry to talk about what he had seen in that first lesson.

That had been several days ago, and Harry had experienced his element in various …as rain…as ice…as mist…. He was tempted to explore his Oceans, but Severus had told him that the risk of Harry losing himself in the vastness was too great right now—that only the strongest of Occlumens could bring themselves back from the depths. Harry couldn't help but wonder if Severus was one of them.

Harry had been tempted to try. After all, wasn't that what he'd been trying to do—completely lose himself? But there was something familiar about the Ocean and something that made him hesitate as well. He had never seen anything that seemed so vast. It encompassed everything from the shore to the horizon…and yet…still seemed so…isolated. As much as Harry wanted to be a part of the Ocean, there was a part of him that felt he would become lost forever…and the more Harry thought about what that truly meant…the more he came to realise, he didn't want to be lost at all.

But was it too late for Harry? It felt as if a part of him was already lost, and he so desperately wanted to find it again. Could someone truly lose a part of themselves forever? What would be the cost of rediscovery? Harry was pretty sure there would be some pain involved. But would it be worth it in the end?

Severus wished that there was a way to make the more overtly defensive aspects of learning Occlumency less invasive and less stressful on his son, but unfortunately, that was impossible.

"Stop…Please. I can't do this any longer," Harry begged Severus as he fought to gain control of his breathing.

Severus hated to do this. He honestly did. But he had to get Harry to understand what was at stake. In a voice as serious as Death, he said, "Harry…You do not understand. The Dark Lord will have no mercy on you. Your pleas will only give him fodder to amplify his brutality."

"I can't!" Severus could tell that the boy was fighting back tears, but now was not the time for Severus to give into his parental instinct.

"Yes you can! … And you will Harry," Severus practically ordered his son. "But if you do not come to terms with these unfounded feelings of guilt... If you do not allow yourself to grieve …your shields will continue to fall like a deck of cards at the least provocation," Severus said urgently, trying to get his son to understand.

"SHUT UP … JUST SHUT— UP!" screamed Harry as he jumped up from the couch. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HOW I FEEL?" Harry was openly crying now. Tears were escaping his eyes and pouring unabashedly down his face. "If I didn't offer to share the cup with Cedric," Harry said hoarsely, "he never would have…"

Harry covered his face in shame and began to sob. Severus had to do something before the boy shut down. Not knowing if it would make things better or worse, Severus decided for the sake of his son, that he would let Harry know that he did understand…and why.

Harry dropped back down to the couch and drew his knees in. The boy wrapped his arms around his legs and began to rock, instinctively searching for a comfort he would never find on his own. His face was contorted with an emotional pain that Severus knew from experience rivalled any Cruciatus.

Severus knelt down on the floor before his son. He slowly reached out to unwrap Harry's arms from where the boy was closing himself off.

Severus said as gently as he could ever remember saying anything in his life, "Harry…Listen to me."

Harry abruptly jerked his arms back and cocooned himself again.

Okay…if he the boy doesn't want to do this the easy way, I can just as easily oblige him the hard way, Severus told himself through his growing impatience.

"Harry…LISTEN TO ME!" Severus snapped.

Harry was immediately shocked out of his hysterics. "Yes, Sir," the boy said like a bloody Imperiused automaton.

Severus sighed in relief that he finally had Harry's attention, but he did not want to keep it through fear, so Severus lowered his voice once again.

"Harry," Severus said thickly. "I know exactly how you feel…"

"No you don't," Harry quietly interrupted without looking up.

"Yes I do," Severus said softly, as if debating the fact with a grieving five-year-old. Severus reached out to brush an errant strand of hair way from Harry's downcast face, but the boy shrugged him away and Severus reluctantly withdrew his hand.

"Harry…I know exactly how you feel," Severus repeated gently. "I was so affected with guilt over your mother's death; I nearly turned my wand on myself," he confessed.

Severus had to take a moment to choke back his own emotions before he could continue. He was overcome with shame for his cowardice. "It took me nearly three years before I could even bring myself to visit her grave."

"Three years…But why?" Harry asked then loudly sniffed. To Severus' horror the boy wiped his running nose with the back of his sleeve.

Severus could feel his forehead crease in irritation. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a handkerchief and handed it to his leaking son. "Honestly, Harry. If the one thing I manage to accomplish as your father is to teach you the proper use of a handkerchief, I should leave this world a happy man."

To Severus' astonishment, Harry actually managed to crack a smile. Harry sniffed again, but this time managed to use the handkerchief, "Yeah…I'm afraid you have your work cut out for you there."

Harry drew his own wand and had the forethought to charm the handkerchief clean before stuffing it into his pocket. The exchange was enough to bring back Harry's self-control. Harry continued this pervious line of thought with a bit more composure, but the sadness had never left his voice. "What I meant to say was, it was Vol…You-Know-Who, who killed Mum and...my step-dad. You had nothing to do with that."

"Not directly, no," Severus said sorrowfully. "But something I did, led to the circumstances that facilitated their deaths."

The look of pain on Harry's face had turned to one of confusion. "I don't…I don't understand."

Severus turned deep within himself to find his calm centre. He would need to draw it from his very core for this confession. But there were some fundamental truths that the boy had to be aware of. One—was that Severus truly did understand Harry's feelings of guilt, and two—that Harry heard the real circumstances behind Lily and James' deaths from Severus and no one else. Merlin forbid, he might actually lose Harry over this. But the boy had the right to know…and to hear the truth from Severus' own lips.

Severus arose from where he had been kneeling on the floor and slowly took a seat next to Harry on the sofa. When the boy did not recoil, Severus felt safe to continue. "Harry…You are well aware that I was…and still am…a Double Agent."

Harry nodded. His intense face indicated to Severus that he was, indeed, listening.

"Part of being a good Double Agent," Severus continued slowly, "is to feed seemingly accurate and reliable information to the enemy, whilst keeping just enough important information back, so not to give away your advantage."

Severus could feel Harry trying to maintain his self-control again. The boy's breathing became slower and more rhythmic. Severus had to continue, but he mentally prepared himself for whatever outburst that was certain to come.

Severus continued, "Several new positions came open that year at Hogwarts. Albus felt it was the perfect opportunity to bring me under closer protection. But unfortunately the Dark Lord would be suspicious if he did not believe the idea was his. At first, the Dark Lord had wanted me to take the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Master, but as the position was—and still is—cursed, and there was no guarantee that the Dark Lord would lift the curse even for one of his own, Albus hired me as Potion's Master instead and appointed me as Head of Slytherin House, even though there were two other candidates my senior who could fulfil that role."

"He appointed you the Head of House so You-Know-Who wouldn't get angry about you losing the DADA position, didn't he?"

Severus nodded.

"But I still don't understand," Harry said. "What does all of this have to do with Mum and James?"

Severus swallowed hard. He had never openly spoken the truth of how he came to Hogwarts to anyone but Albus, and Albus had been directly involved. Severus did not realise how very hard this was going to be. "There were still appearances to be kept, Harry. I still had to interview for the position and the Dark Lord would expect me to bring back information. It was also his habit to keep spies on his spies whenever possible. In this case, a fellow Death Eater and school mate named Avery awaited me."

Harry's eyes began to cloud over slightly…as if he were becoming aware that it was this information that had played a crucial role for that fateful night.

"As I said earlier," Severus continued to explain, "Several new positions opened, one of which was meant to pique the Dark Lord's interest…Divination."

"Divination!" Harry practically spat out with grim laughter. "You're yanking my wand, right?"

Severus smirked…somewhat thankful for the light-hearted reprieve. He cut his eyes over to Harry and said, "I assure you, I would never, 'yank your wand'."

"So Vo…I mean…You-Know-Who fancies Divination?" Harry asked in disbelief.

Severus blew out a silent snort of air and said, "Yes. And the Headmaster, made certain that a 'celebrity'…of sorts, interviewed for the position."

"A celebrity…Who?"

"Sybill Trelawney."

If Severus didn't know better, he'd swear that Harry had just been hit with a Confundus Charm. "Wha…What? Professor Trelawney? That giant mosquito is nothing more than a great fraud."

"Hmm…Yes," Severus said somewhat darkly. "Unfortunately for the Mosquito, she has a distant ancestor who was a much respected and well known Seer. Sybill Trelawney had never shown any true sign of the gift, however, her name alone was enough to spark the Dark Lord's interest." Severus said with a hint of venom. "Albus wanted me to take back some sort of useless information so to satiate the Dark Lord at least until I became settled in."

"What went wrong," Harry asked nervously.

With a tone thick with regret, Severus said, "Everything. In the first place, for some odd reason, the Headmaster never told the Innkeeper of the plan. The plan was for me to listen outside the door as she spun a yarn about some sort of impending doom. The drama was acted out for Avery's sake. Albus later confided in me that her 'prophecies' almost always spelled certain death for whomever was doing the listening. He thought the Dark Lord would be satisfied to hear a prediction of the Headmaster's death." Harry scoffed at that.

"If only he had given me that bit of information first," Severus said mournfully.

"She had only begun her rant as I was discovered by the innkeeper and thrown out and Avery followed right behind me," Severus said. "I could not chance lying about what I had heard, even if I thought it was true. I had no idea how much of the conversation Avery had caught. So, just as planned, I immediately went to the Dark Lord and told him everything I heard of Trelawney's 'prophecy'."

Severus' voice began to waver as he wondered if he could finish his confession. "We were fools…Little did we know how seriously the Dark Lord would take this information. Honestly, I thought Albus was mad when he told me the Dark Lord would take any rubbish that Sybill Trelawney spat-on about seriously."

Harry said regretfully, "But he did take it seriously, didn't he?"

Severus pressed his lips together until he knew they must be white. He didn't want to say anymore, but he was committed…for Harry's sake.

"The prophecy concerned the birth of a child…a child who would challenge his power." Severus closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory of the day the Dark Lord made his pronouncement. "And for reasons only known to the Dark Lord, he had targeted… you."

All of the colour had drained from Harry's face. "Me… Why me?"

"I do not have an answer to that, Harry," Severus said as he pulled out his own handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. "The prophecy could have just as well referred to Neville Longbottom, as you were born only hours apart."

New tears began to well up in Harry's eyes and Severus almost regretted having said anything. "So Mum and James died because he came looking for me?"

"No!" Severus said harshly as he grabbed his son by the shoulders. "None of this is your fault, Harry…do you understand me?"

Harry nodded his understanding, but Severus was certain the boy still did not believe him. Severus was certain Harry would have laid the blame on Severus, in which Severus believed he had every right. But the boy still seemed to take the blame for all of the wrongs done to his loved ones on his own shoulders. Severus almost wished that Harry would just scream that he would hate Severus forever and be done with it, rather than the boy bear the unwarranted guilt himself.

"Harry, please," Severus said quietly. "You don't understand. As soon as I became aware of which child the Dark Lord had targeted…I immediately informed the Headmaster and you, your mother and James were put into hiding. We had no idea that anyone in James' circle of friends had turned to the Dark Lord."

Harry only seemed to blink numbly at Severus. Severus was no longer certain that the boy was listening, but he had to finish, or he never would.

"For years I let the guilt fester within me, Harry. I gave the Dark Lord the information that led to his obsession for you." Severus actually confessed more to himself than his son. "I have never been a nice man…and I let my guilt turn me bitter and cruel."

A spark of understanding was now lit in Harry's eyes as he turned his gaze to meet Severus'.

"It was not until Black escaped from Azkaban that I realised that my emotional flagellation was unwarranted." Severus said more confidently. "I never betrayed her. I never betrayed Potter…and I never betrayed you."

Harry sounded as meek as a small child when he answered, "But it wasn't Sirius either. It was Peter Pettigrew." There was something in that admission seemed to lift another weight off the boy's slight shoulders.

"But the ultimate blame lies with the Dark Lord. Never forget that, Harry," Severus said grimly. "And I promise you…the day will come when Pettigrew will pay for his trespasses like the Iscariot he is." The tone in Severus' voice made it very clear exactly who would be collecting payment. Not just for Lily and Potter, but for Cedric and Harry as well.

Taking Harry's chin between his long fingers, he lifted his son's face so their eyes would meet. The boy needed to see the truth in his father's eyes. "Harry…you have done nothing wrong. Miss your friend…Grieve for him…but do not dwell over a guilt that is not yours to bear."

Harry's body convulsed from pent up grief. The boy threw himself at Severus and buried himself in the older man's embrace. At first Severus was stunned and did not know what to do. He hadn't comforted anybody in their grief since Lily's parents died. But his parental instinct soon won over as he gently began to rock with Harry in is arms. He moved one hand up to the boy's head, and tenderly ran his fingers though his son's hair, much the way he had done with Lily…so many years ago.

Harry went to bed the night before, not knowing how to feel. There was a part of him that wanted to hate Severus Snape for is part in the deaths of Harry's parents, but he couldn't. Harry could feel the genuine feelings of guilt and remorse radiate off of Severus in palpable waves. Harry knew Snape had no intention of hurting anyone. It was just one of those cruel twists of fate. If anything, Harry felt rather sorry for the man…harbouring that kind of guilt for twelve years. Harry understood how much of a soul-crushing burden that was.

No wonder Severus Snape became the acerbic and bitter man he had become. At times over this past summer, a part of Harry had felt himself almost wanting to follow that same path if it meant not directly dealing with the pain. Harry could never completely absolve himself of Cedric's death, and Harry had gathered as much about Severus during their Occlumency lesson to know that the Potion's professor felt the same about Harry's mother…and even James Potter.

After Harry had cried in Severus' shoulder for who-knows how long, like a complete wally, Severus attempted to get Harry to talk about his time at the Dursley's. But Harry wasn't ready for that…not yet at any rate. However, Harry knew when and if he was ready—Severus would listen. Harry was even inclined to believe he might understand. Even this morning, Severus hadn't brought up the events of last night and taunted Harry with the details, as Harry would have once expected Snape to do.

On the two or three occasions Severus had mentioned his parents—and especially his Grandfather Prince—he sounded…off … to Harry. He had a sinking suspicion Severus understood more about Harry and his treatment by the Dursleys, than what Harry was afraid to admit on behalf of the Potion's Master. And Harry was certain Severus understood what it felt like to be tortured at the hands of Voldemort.

Harry finally felt as if someone might understand him. What a kick in the pants, that out of all the people in the world, it ended up to be Severus Snape. Harry still hurt. There was no mistaking about that, but it felt as if the weight of that pain was not quite so pressing...that there was someone else to help bear his burdens.

Harry found it amazing how cathartic a simple cry-out could be. It did not solve his problems by any means, but it helped to put his life back into perspective again.

It was another beautiful afternoon and Harry wanted to be a part of it. He was heading up to the Owlery after having lunch with Severus and a quick nap. Harry hadn't even let his weird dream disturb him.

The house-elves had really outdone themselves with the Steak and Kidney Pie. The little elves were practically obsessed. Harry and Severus were the only two people in that castle that summer. It was all Severus could do to keep the bored little creatures from getting underfoot.

Normally, other than Hagrid, Professor Snape was the only person who stayed in the castle at any length during the summer holidays, as he was almost always conducting private research and he usually required very little of them. According to Severus, this fact usually made the high-strung and eager-to-serve elves resentful. Other professors occasionally stopped in during the summers to utilise the library, Severus had said, but Harry had yet to see any others over the summer.

The only task Severus usually let elves do on a regular basis was his laundry. Harry couldn't help but laugh when Severus said he was certain the elves usually vented their frustration for lack of work by adding too much starch to his pants. Severus had never been able to prove it, but he was now certain his theory was correct. He noticed that his underclothes were softer and much more comfortable now that Harry was staying in his quarters and they had more work to do. The elves were ecstatic that Severus had allowed the Great Harry Potter to stay in his quarters. Now they had someone to dote over. Harry wondered if the fact that Severus now had comfortable pants might have something to do with his change of disposition.

Harry had initially wanted to visit Hagrid, but it occurred to him that he hadn't seen the Magical Creatures professor. Harry asked Severus where Hagrid had gone to, as his giant friend was actually a full-time resident of the castle. Severus said that Hagrid was simply on holiday, and left it at that. Harry wondered where Hagrid might go on holiday. He shuddered at the vision of the hairy half-giant sunning himself on the beaches of Bournemouth or Southend-on-Sea.

Harry had no more time to muse as he entered the Owlery. The white form of his Snowy Owl was easy to discern from the Tawny and Barn Owls that belonged to the school. She was the only owl awake as dusk was still at least a couple of hours away.

"Hey girl," Harry called out, then tutted as he held out his outstretched arm. Hedwig silently glided and landed on his arm. Harry lovingly stroked her soft, snowy white plumage on her chest and Hedwig hooted and affectionately nipped his sleeve in approval.

Harry left with his Familiar and as soon as they came to the staircase, Hedwig instinctively took off so not to throw off her master's balance as he descended the stairs. She returned and landed on his shoulder as he approached the bottom steps, then continued her nibbling, this time on his hair. Harry had to smile.

"Yeah…I missed you too, Hedwig," he said affectionately.

Harry strolled down to the shore of the Black Lake along with Hedwig on his shoulder. When he reached the shore, he coaxed her again down to his arm and asked, "Are you ready?"

Hedwig gave him an affirmative hoot and with a quick toss into the air, Harry released her. Harry loved to watch Hedwig fly. He'd get on his broom and fly too, but then he couldn't watch her soar. When he watched Hedwig, Harry's heart would always fly right along with her. He smiled openly again as Hedwig caught one of the thermals over the lake and disappeared into the tree line of the forest.

Once Hedwig had finally flown from his sight, Harry sat on an old fallen log. He happened to look down. The flat, smooth stones that littered the shoreline of the lake seemed to be custom-made for skipping.

Sitting by the lake shore and skipping stones across the water, for the first time in as long as he could remember, Harry was actually enjoying his day.

Harry thought more over the past two weeks, and found that he was truly grateful to Dumbledore for forcing this situation on him. Learning Occlumency had to be one of the best things to ever happen to Harry. It hadn't even occurred to Harry that he hadn't been resting properly over the summer. Only now that Severus had been helping Harry clear his mind every night, had Harry realised how much the events in the graveyard had come to haunt him.

Since coming to live with Severus, Harry hadn't had any more disturbing dreams, unless one counted the one he had just a couple of hours ago. Harry was reluctant to call it disturbing, really. In fact, he found it rather comical, if it weren't for the fact that it involved Mr Malfoy and Voldemort.

Honestly…Harry had dreamed that Mr Malfoy had found instructions to something that required the sacrificing of abalone, and Voldemort was a very happy bunny about it. How mad was that? Maybe Voldemort had a fancy for sushi? Harry supposed even Dark Lords had to eat.

As humorous as it was for Harry to imagine Voldemort sending out his Death Eaters to frantically search the countryside for a Sushi Chef to join their ranks, he knew that Severus would not. As real as the dream seemed, Harry was certain it had nothing to do with their supposed connection. Despite Harry's certainty that it meant nothing, he would tell Severus tonight during their next Occlumency session. Severus would want to know. Harry would have told Severus after he finished his nap, but Severus had been busy in his office finalising his syllabi for the next term. Harry didn't find the odd little dream important enough to disturb Severus from his work at that particular moment.

Between his musings and skipping stones, Harry had lost track of time. It felt rather nice, actually…idling away an afternoon without allowing the worries of the world to press in on him for once.

Harry stopped his stone-skipping and looked across the lake. The little speck moving towards him grew bigger. Hedwig was on her way back home to Harry. He held out his welcoming arm and she obligingly took her perch. Harry noticed she still had one of his black hairs in her beak. He hadn't realised she had actually pulled out any of his hair when she preened him. Harry pulled out the long hair so she wouldn't choke on it and cast it into the breeze. He idly thought that he hadn't realised his hair was so long and debated whether or not it was time for a haircut.

Harry began his walk back to the Owlery with Hedwig. Unbeknownst to him, he was once again being watched from above.

Severus Snape stood atop the Astronomy tower–again. This time, however, it was not coincidental. Yes…this time he had come to the top of the tower for the sole purpose of watching his son.

He had finally managed to get his lesson plans finished and his final revisions were now sitting on Dumbledore's desk. They only awaited the Headmaster's final approval. As usual, Severus' requests went slightly over budget but the extra allocation for potion ingredients could always be taken out of Trelawney's tea budget. Honestly…the Board of Governors almost matched the budget for Trelawney's tea leaves with that of potions. What kind of bloody predictions did they expect out of a horde of teenagers?

Of course, the world needed to know if the likes of Ms Brown and Ms Patil were going to be asked out on the next Hogsmeade weekend with either Mr Thomas or Mr Weasley. Alert The Daily Prophet! Ah, yes…Severus had confiscated more than one letter passed between the Trelawney's little acolytes. If he caught them again, the chits were going to spend their Hogsmeade weekend on a date with Argus Filch…cleaning toilets with toothbrushes.

After he was done, Severus noticed that Harry had awakened from his cat-nap on the sofa and had apparently decided to wander about the castle. This didn't leave Severus overly concerned. Harry was fifteen years-old, after all…hardly in need of a babysitter in a warded castle. But Severus had to admit…despite his changing views of his son, Harry did always seem to find trouble…or trouble found Harry.

With Harry's proclivity to attract mayhem in mind, Severus thought that perhaps it was best to check up on the boy.

As it was a nice day, Severus surmised Harry might have taken himself outside, so he headed for the Astronomy Tower as it afforded the best vantage point of the school grounds.

When Severus arrived at the top of the tower, his instinct told him to scan the skies first. His heart raced a little when he failed to find Harry on his broom.

Severus' eyes then searched the grounds. It didn't take him long to spot Harry approaching the shore of the Black Lake.

Harry had his Familiar with him and Severus watched in fascination as Harry released his Snow Owl. Just as Harry had done, Severus watched the breath-taking bird arc over the Dark Forest and then disappear from view.

Harry sat on a rotted-out log and occupied himself by skipping stones.

No one was there to see the rare smile that came across Severus' face as the stones broke the glassy surface of the lake.

Skipping stones had been one of Lily's favourite pastimes when they were children. Severus would often join her. As they would skip their stones, Lily would often chatter away about some trivial subject or another and Severus would hang on her every word. Sometimes, they wouldn't talk at all, but instead pass the time in companionable silence.

Those days had been amongst the happiest in Severus' miserable youth. In fact, the only time in his childhood he had ever been completely happy, was in the company of Lily Evans. She had given him hope in what would have otherwise been a wretched life.

Severus had thought that hope had been lost when he believed that Lily had left him for James Potter. He thought it irrevocably gone when she died. Now Severus had new hope. Harry had given Severus hope last night…hope that he could still be a father to his son.

Severus had taken a great risk last night confiding in Harry. Harry could have turned against him easily and rightfully so. But Harry needed to hear the truth of what happened and how it had affected Severus. Harry needed to know he wasn't alone.

When Harry had finally turned to Severus for comfort, Severus offered it readily and without reservation. However, there was a part of Severus that wished he could be more demonstrative for his son, but such sentimentality had not been in his nature for a very long time…if ever.

Severus had already been through his healing process. He already had his scars. The scars helped dull the pain, but they were a constant reminder of the wounds he had suffered during his life. He wondered how many more scars his son would bear before it was all said and done.

Severus snapped out of his recollections as he noticed a small shadow grow larger against the stone wall. Something was silently approaching him from behind. Severus turned, and was startled to see none-other than the hoary form of Harry's owl fly past him. What was the name Harry had given her…Hedwig?

The owl gracefully landed on one of the merlons and turned to face Severus.

Severus could not help but admire what a beautiful creature the snowy owl was…her silvery white feathers speckled by her shadowy grey camouflage. Her soft amber eyes regarded him intently.

Severus could not help but to feel slightly apprehensive. Wizarding Familiars were often very in tune with the emotions of their masters. Was the owl aware of the past enmity between Harry and Severus? Would she sense Severus' intentions now?

It occurred to Severus that he was actually nervous…really nervous. He wasn't certain why the opinion of Harry's bird mattered to him…but it did.

Severus' heart began to race as Hedwig suddenly flew towards him and she perched herself on his shoulder. He was nearly caught off-guard by the sudden weight of her. The bird gave Severus a little approving nip by gently pulling at his hair, then flew off, leaving Severus utterly flabbergasted.

Severus stepped back over to look past the tower wall and continued to watch Harry by the lake. Harry seemed to be enjoying himself and Severus let his own sense of contentment wash over him. Severus cared nothing of the time as he stayed fixated on his son, until he noticed Hedwig on the horizon. She had apparently circled the lake and was now returning to Harry.

With his Familiar perched on his arm, Harry made his way back towards the direction of the Owlery.

Severus' contentment was gone in a flash of pain and was replaced by sudden fear. He grabbed his burning forearm, and cursed beneath his breath. Clinching his teeth, he quickly descended the stairs.

"Damn!" Severus exclaimed as he ran down the spiralling staircase.

The timing couldn't have been worse. There was no one else in the castle. The Headmaster had returned to his quest. Severus had no clue as to where he would be at this time. Without Severus, there would be no one left in the school.

But at the moment, Severus had no time to ponder about the school. The school would take care of itself.

Severus had to get Harry to safety. As well protected as Hogwarts was, he could not risk leaving the boy alone.

Time was of the essence. If Severus was not quick, he would be hard-pressed to excuse his tardiness to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord allowed Severus only ten minutes from the time of The Summons in order to Apparate to his side. The only reason Severus had been given that generous amount of time was because the Dark Lord assumed Severus had to make his way out past the castle gates to Apparate and that took time. Anything more than ten minutes, and Severus had better have a damn good excuse…and even then Severus was guaranteed at least one Cruciatus for his troubles.

As it was, there was no time to run down, find Harry, and then rush back to his dungeons and retrieve his Death Eater robes and mask.

When Severus reached the bottom of the stairs, without breaking his stride he called out, "Stiltskin!"

With a pop of Apparition, the school house-elf assigned to the Headmaster appeared next to Severus, miraculously keeping up with the Potion Master's long strides as he bounded alongside. "What is it Stiltskin can do for you Potion's Master, Sir?" The little elf wasn't even breathing hard.

"My robes and mask…get them and meet me in the Headmaster's office," Severus ordered.

With a knowing nod and asking no more questions, the elf popped away just as quickly as it had appeared. During the past spring, with the return of the Dark Lord, Albus had instructed his most trusted elf to assist Severus in regards to his 'other duties' whenever needed. Severus would have to leave from the Headmaster's office. It was the closest Floo in the castle with outside access. Now getting back into the castle would pose another problem...

Severus was now running full-tilt out the main entrance and down to the Owlery to find Harry. He was running out of time.

He met Harry as the boy was descending the stairs. Harry must have seen the alarm on Severus' face. Severus would take care of that shortly, but first things, first. Before Harry had a chance to ask his questions, Severus said abruptly, "I must get you to Black…now!"

Much to the boy's credit, he realised that Severus meant deadly business, and Harry kept up with Severus' rushed pace.

Severus was not surprised when Harry asked through his quickening breath, "You're being summoned…aren't you?"

"It is nothing to upset yourself with. We simply need to make haste." Severus came to an abrupt halt in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. It opened without the benefit of a password and Severus ran up the stairs with Harry close behind.

"How did you do that?" Harry gasped.

"There will be time to explain later," Severus said sharply as the solid oak doors of the Headmaster's office swung open and Severus motioned Harry in. On the other side of the door stood Stiltskin, waiting for Severus. The small elf had Severus' silver mask in one hand and was practically smothered in the voluminous black silk of Severus' robes.

"Your Dark Robes, Potion's Master Sir," the elf squeaked, and offered up the robes to Severus with a slightly bowed head. Severus could almost denote a tone of pity from the house-elf for what Severus was about to do.

Harry was doing his best not to panic at the sight of the robes. Damn it all to Hell! Severus should have thought to ask the elf to shrink them, so not to upset Harry.

"Thank you, Stiltskin," Severus said as he took his mask and robes from the elf. He then ordered to his son, "Get in the Floo, Harry."

Severus shrunk is Death Eater robes and mask and tucked them into the inner pocket of his everyday robes. He needed to keep them away from Harry and he did not wish to upset the residents of Grimmauld Place any more than was necessary, either. Severus then grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the box atop the Headmaster's mantel and stepped into the Floo next to his very anxious son.

Snape tossed down the handful of sparkling green powder into the Floo and announced, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place." Severus' booming voice echoed up the Floo, and he and his son were transported away in a blinding flash of emerald light.

Severus and Harry stepped out of the Floo at Black's home. Once again, Severus had to reach out to keep Harry from landing face first.

"Thank you," Harry said sheepishly. But Severus did not respond. He was too focused.

There was no one in the sitting room and Severus rushed down the stairs, leaving Harry in the sitting room.

"Black…Lupin!" he called out.

He needn't have done so. Lupin met him halfway up the stairs with the teenagers standing behind him trying to see what all the fuss was about. Severus could hear that Harry had come out of the sitting room and was now standing behind him as well.

"What's got your panties in a twist Snape?" Severus looked above him to see Black and Molly Weasley staring down at him from the second floor landing, both completely coated in dust and grim. Black glared at Severus with his usual derision whilst Molly looked to be annoyed with Black.

"That's enough, Padfoot," Lupin admonished half-heartedly to his pack-mate.

From the gaze Lupin set on Severus, it was obvious that at least one Marauder recognised the seriousness of the situation. Severus always believed the Wolf was actually the most sensible of the Marauders... which actually wasn't saying much. Severus felt what small advantage Lupin had in intellect was negated by his lack of backbone.

Lupin turned to Severus, "What's wrong, Severus? We weren't expecting Harry until time to go to Diagon Alley."

"What do you think?" Severus said, trying to keep his tone from sounding too acerbic. "The Headmaster is gone. Harry will need to stay here until I return."

Severus noticed the exchange of looks going on between Harry and his friends. Obviously, the other two-thirds of the Golden-Trio wanted explanations. Severus wondered if Harry would provide them. Severus had already discussed the point with Harry. Mr Weasley and Ms Granger had already proven their loyalty to the ability to keep secrets. If Harry felt the need to discuss recent events with his best friends, he was at liberty to do so with the express instructions that nothing went beyond Weasley and Granger. Severus knew full-well that if Harry was so inclined, he would tell his friends regardless of having permission from Severus or not.

Unfortunately, Black would have to be told. Severus had offered to do the deed for Harry if the boy was too uncomfortable, but Harry simply said he would think on it.

"Running off to lick your master's boots, Snivellus?" Severus heard Black mock from on-high. He really wished Black would learn to keep his bark to himself. Severus could feel that Black's attitude was beginning to upset Harry even more. But still, though Severus loathed to admit it, other than Severus himself, no one would protect Harry more fiercely than Black.

But Severus did not have time to exchange witticisms with Black. Severus turned to Lupin and said, "I don't have time to play with the house pet."

Severus then faced Harry and took him by the shoulders. He looked his son in the eyes and said with a tone that would warrant no argument, "Harry…Do not leave this house. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Severus could sense the boy's increasing worry, but he couldn't address it now. He had to have time to fully Occlude before he Disapparated.

"And you," Severus turned to look up at Black and warned in his deadliest tone, "If Harry leaves this house or should anything happen to him…you will answer to me."

Without waiting for a retort from Black, Severus swooped down the stairs and the children parted like the Red Sea. They were aware that it was never a bright idea be in the Potion Master's way, especially when the wizard had a singular purpose. At the moment, Severus' purpose was his job.

The front door to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place opened of its own volition. As Severus stepped out into the clear, late afternoon light, the door closed behind him. He stayed within the garden gates so he would remain unnoticed by Muggles and wizards, alike.

Severus reached into his pocket, took out his mask and restored it to its proper size. With a quick charm, his everyday garb transformed into his majestic Death Eater robes. As beautifully tailored as they were, Severus hated them. They made him feel unclean.

Severus noticed the front door to the house was open again and he looked up to see that Harry was standing in the doorway, blocking the view of the rest of the household with the door close to his back. The look of concern etched on Harry's face made the boy appear as if he had aged twenty years in the course of minutes.

Severus never wanted Harry to see him like this...in his Dark Robes. He allowed himself one last display of emotion as he returned a look to Harry that was intended to ensure his son that all would be well. Severus hoped that Harry caught it.

With a heavy breath, Severus finally Occluded and cleared his conscious thoughts of all memory and emotion involving his son.

He did not look back again as he turned on his heel, and Apparated to the Dark Lord's side.

Harry watched as his Severus swept out the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and into the unknown. As the door shut behind Severus, Harry's concern turned into undeniable fear.

"Harry…, are you okay?" It took a second for Harry to register that it was Hermione who asked.

Harry was still staring at the closed front door. "Uh…yeah," he said in a blatant lie. He wasn't okay at all. He had been enjoying one perfectly perfect day and then his father had to get a summoned by the deranged killer that he pretended to work for.

Everything was just bloody ducky.

Harry had no idea why he was drawn to the front door or why he had to see Severus go, but he did. Admittedly, the first sight of Severus' Death Eater robes in the Headmaster's office had shaken Harry, but it wasn't so much the memories of what had happened that night that had upset Harry…it was the realization of the gravity of Severus' position. Just as Harry realised that there was someone out there who actually understood

As Harry began to open the front door, someone said from behind him (probably Ron), "Mate, Snape said that you couldn't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry numbly replied. Harry opened the door and looked out into the small front garden of Number Twelve. He kept the door close behind him, not wanting the others to see whatever exchange he might have with Severus.

He stood there, frozen in macabre awe as Severus' everyday clothes transformed into his Death Eater attire.

The horrific memories of that night threatened to paralyze Harry with fear, but in a move that was becoming instinctual, Harry reached out and pulled the terrifying memories behind his shields. His shields were by no means capable of keeping the memories at total bay, but at least he could now deal with them without flying into a state of panic.

The robes were perversely beautiful. A cold chill ran down Harry's spine because he knew what those robes represented.

But as difficult as it was, Harry looked beyond the robes and to the man. Harry had been fully aware since that night Cedric had been killed and Severus showed his Dark Mark to the Minister in a vain attempt to prove that Voldemort had returned, that Snape was a spy. The ramifications of that had never really crossed Harry's mind before. I had never thought twice of the deadly game Snape had to play. But now…it wasn't Snape anymore. It was Severus now, and Harry cared very much what happened to him.

Harry felt he should say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. Harry's eyes became locked with Severus' gaze. At first there was a flash of anger from Severus, perhaps mixed with a bit of humiliation in those black fathomless eyes. They brought back cold memories of the way things had once been. But then, something changed in that obsidian gaze…a warmth that was unfamiliar to Harry. With one look, Severus had assured Harry that he would do whatever it took to come home. Though it did not take away Harry's fears completely, without being able to articulate why, it helped.

Severus' face then went blank and seemed completely void of emotion and then with a sudden pop of displaced air, he was gone.

Harry jumped and turned around when someone unexpectedly put their hand on his shoulder.

"Hey kiddo…it's just me," Sirius said gently. He looked confused by Harry's reaction. Actually, Harry had nearly forgotten anyone else was there. "Harry, do we need to talk?" The concern in Sirius' voice was unmistakable, but Harry couldn't bring himself to confide in his godfather yet.

Remus stood not too far behind Sirius. It looked as if Harry's former professor turned friend was every bit as troubled as Sirius seemed to be. These were his da…James Potter's two best friends. He had to tell them…but how? What would he say…that James Potter had only been Harry's step-father and that one of the people they hated most in the world was Harry's real father…that Mum never loved the man she called 'husband', but had always loved Severus Snape instead?

Sirius hadn't seemed to care that Harry's mum might have cheated on Snape, but what would he think now that the tale was reversed…well…not exactly reversed, Harry supposed, but it was obvious that though his mum had never cheated on anyone, she was not the devoted wife to James Potter that Sirius and Remus had pictured her to be. Harry shuddered to think of what unspeakable things Sirius might say about Severus.

Deep down, Harry knew that Severus was right. Harry's paternity should have no bearing on what Sirius thought of him. After all, Harry's only offence was being the biological son of Severus Snape, but Harry was sorely afraid that might be enough for his godfather to condemn him.

Realising that he had not yet given Sirius an answer, Harry scratched the back of his head and avoided Sirius' gaze by looking down at the freshly cleaned, but still dull patterns in the carpeting. "Um…Yes we do," Harry glumly admitted. "But not right now. I'd really like to go have a lie down if you don't mind."

"Go right ahead, Harry dear," Mrs Weasley said sympathetically from somewhere by the stairs. "It's still couple of hours until supper. I'll send Ron up when it's ready."

Sirius opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then slowly shut it again as if he thought better of it.

Harry still had a hold of the doorknob and the front door was still slightly ajar. He closed it quietly behind him. Harry paused as he walked past Sirius' and touched his godfather's sleeve.

"It's okay…we can talk after supper," he promised Sirius. Sirius absently nodded and let Harry go. Harry kept his eyes averted as he made his way to the stairs. He could feel the perplexed gazes of his friends and hear their unasked questions.

Harry had not been in bed for long. He didn't need to sleep like he had told Sirius. After all, he had a nap just after lunch. Harry just needed to get away. As much as he needed to tell Sirius, Harry just couldn't. He just couldn't get his mind off of Severus. Harry felt like he swallowed a Bludger. Harry's gut was turning so violently, he wouldn't be surprised to find his abdomen turned black and blue.

He couldn't pull his thought away from how much danger Severus was putting himself in. Was whatever information he gathered really worth the risk? Why did Harry feel betrayed? Severus was only doing his job.

Not so long ago, Harry would have been inclined to think that if the Potion's Master was hurt in the line of duty, it would be Snape's problem and that the wizard probably did something to deserve it.

But now…Had he really come to care so much about Severus Snape?

Harry had to reluctantly admit…yes…he had.

Harry laid there in bed, staring at a dingy tea-coloured water stain on the ceiling. He absently thought it seemed that the Order's headquarters was in desperate need of structural maintenance as well as cleaning.

Harry was granted a reprieve from thinking about Severus' situation when he heard voices from directly outside his door. It was still too early for dinner, but Harry first guess about who was behind Door-Number-One was correct.

Harry could scarcely make out Ron's hushed voice. "What if he's asleep?"

Hermione's slightly louder and irritated voice said, "Just go in, Ronald. It's your room too. If he's asleep, we'll just ask him after dinner."

There was some more hushed bickering from the corridor and Harry rolled over on his side and debated whether or not to pretend if he was asleep. He knew he would eventually tell Ron and Hermione, but wasn't sure if he should do it now. But then again, the pros of telling them now outweighed the cons. The longer he waited to say something, the more likely they (especially Ron) would resent Harry for harbouring such a secret from them. The one thing Harry knew really ticked-off his friends, was feeling as if Harry mistrusted them.

Also, his friends might be able to give him a clue on how to approach Sirius. After all, Ron hated Severus almost as much as Sirius did. How Ron reacts might be an indication of how Sirius would take the news. Not to mention, once he told Ron and Hermione, Harry just might find it easier to talk to Sirius.

Ron and Hermione were still 'debating' whether or not to wake up Harry. Harry scoffed to himself, thinking that if he had been asleep, he'd certainly be awake now with all the incessant 'whispering' outside the door.

Harry huffed a long-suffering sigh. He would do it. He would take his chances and trust his friends not to turn on him.

Well… It was time to get it over with. "I know you're out there guys. Come on in."

The door opened slowly with a groan of hinges that were in desperate need of oiling. Ron was the first to stick his head in, most probably to make sure that Harry was decent.

"Sorry about that, mate," Ron said with a hesitant smile before he opened the door wider. He came in the room and Hermione followed in behind him. She had some blotchy pink spots around her cheeks that were just beginning to fade.

"I hope we didn't wake you," Hermione timidly said as she walked over and sat on the edge of Ron's bed.

"Yeah…" Ron said as his eyes darted to Hermione and shot daggers, "Some people don't know how to whisper."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off.

"It's okay, guys," Harry said, waving off their concern. "I wasn't sleeping. I just needed some time to think."

Ron sat next to Hermione and his bedsprings squeaked from the additional weight. Harry sat up and swung his legs around, sitting on the edge of his own bed and facing his friends. He leaned over, grasped his hand and rested his elbows on his knees. He kept his eyes fixed on the dust bunnies that had gathered around the spindle foot of Ron's bed. He wasn't ready to make eye contact yet.

"We gathered as much," Hermione said a bit softly. "We're all a bit worried about you."

Harry clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth breathed heavily through his teeth as he continued to think how he was going to broach the subject. "Yeah… well I can honestly tell you that every thing's been okay. The professor has been taking good care of me."

There. He said it.

Harry cast his eyes up to see his best mate's reaction. Ron's eyes narrowed and he asked suspiciously, "Harry…what's going on? Why all of a sudden is that git calling you by your first name?"

Harry cursed himself for underestimating his best friend's powers of observation, but then again, Severus hadn't exactly been subtle about it either. But Ron was an excellent strategist and that meant he did tend to notice things. It was a quality that most people sorely underestimated in Ron…even Hermione. Ron was nowhere near as obtuse as most people believed him to be.

Harry just wished that Ron would at least lay off the names, but he honestly couldn't be too annoyed with his friend. It hadn't been too long since Harry would have been joining him in the name calling.

Apparently, Hermione noticed the change in Harry's mood. "Ronald… Don't call Professor Snape names," she admonished quietly.

"No, Hermione. Really, it's okay. I don't want to argue," Harry appealed then gustily sighed. He sat quietly, wondering how to say what he had to say. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Harry hesitantly said, "It's just... I sort of have a problem and I don't know what to do about it."

Harry thought it was fascinating the way Ron's eyes changed so quickly, from suspension, to an apparent understanding, to rage in less than a second. Ron sprang from the edge of the bed with a clinched fist and hard set teeth, "If that bloody bastard has done anythi..."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face in horror and perhaps a little ill-put shame when he realised what his friend was thinking. Hermione sat in place, as if she were in a state of shock.

Harry jumped up from his own bed and placed his hands on his best friend's shoulders, in an effort to calm him. It looked as if Ron were about to run out into the night and find Severus so he could curse him with an Unforgivable. "No Ron…nothing like that! I swear. It's nothing like that at all!"

Ron slowly sat back down, and Harry sat back down on his own bed. But Harry could tell that Ron was searching his eyes. Ron wanted to assure himself that Harry was telling the truth. "You may not believe it, Ron…but the professor has actually been great... for Professor Snape anyway," Harry amended. He knew his friends just wouldn't believe Severus had changed his attitude towards Harry so radically, so quickly. Harry still had a hard time believing it himself.

The look on Ron's face indicated that he did have a hard time believing it. "Well, something has obviously happened between you and Snape over these past two weeks," Ron said in a valiant effort to keep his temper in check. "Why else would he be calling you by your first name like that?"

"Of course things have changed between Harry and the professor," Hermione said sensibly as she looked to Ron. "Harry went there to learn Occlumency. They have to bond." She then turned to Harry and asked. "But Ron is right, Harry, something is obviously bothering you. If Professor Snape isn't the problem, then what is?"

Harry shut his eyes and scoffed internally. What wasn't the problem? Harry's life had become one gigantic, jumbled mess over the past year; he would hardly know where to begin. But right at the moment, he just had to concentrate on the problem at hand.

He decided that it would just be less painful just to come out with it.

"Sirius," he finally said miserably.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other in stunned disbelief and then turned and gaped at Harry and echoed, "Sirius?"

Harry was ashamed to think that he had so little confidence in how his godfather would take the news of Harry's paternity, but he couldn't help it. Sirius and Severus had a past—a past that was not easily reconciled, despite Severus' assurances to try. Harry wanted to think that Sirius would be willing to try as well, but Severus' name couldn't be mentioned in front of Sirius without a look of contempt from the man and Severus couldn't walk into the same room without Sirius throwing off an insult. He couldn't see how Sirius would accept the fact that Severus Snape was actually Harry's father.

Harry didn't know why he was having a hard time looking at his friends.

Yes he did. As much as Harry could trust them to keep his secret…well…secret, he was still very much afraid of how they would react.

Harry said wretchedly, "Yeah…I have to tell him something important, but I don't know how." Harry leaned against the high footboard of the sleigh bed, feeling as if he suddenly needed its support. Now he wished he had taken that second nap.

Harry felt the weight shift on his bed and without taking his head from the cool oak wood, Harry turned to see Hermione next to him. He was comforted by the gentleness of her brown eyes as she tilted her head slightly to make eye contact. "What is it Harry? You can tell us." She said softly as her gaze looked back at Ron. Ron nodded for her to go on. "We'll understand...both of us."

Harry scoffed as he lifted a stray bit of irritating fringe from beneath his glasses, "Will you? I don't even know if I understand it, myself."

This time Ron got up from the bed and walked over looking as sympathetic as Harry had ever seen him. He half knelt in front of Harry and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and said with what Harry rightly interpreted as all sincerity, "Harry…we will always be your mates…Hermione and me. Best mates for life. You could tell us that the greasy git was your father and it wouldn't change anything between us."

Harry sat up in astonishment. If he didn't know better he'd swear that Ron had just read his mind. Was Ron a closet Legilimens? Everything Severus had taught Harry about controlling his emotions had just flown out the window. He could actually feel the look of shock on his face and his friends had obviously picked up on it.

Hermione gasped, and threw her hands over her mouth. Ron's eyes went wide with disbelief. "You don't mean…?" Ron pointed at the door as if Snape were standing right outside.

Harry nodded dejectedly in affirmation. At least Ron had made his job a little easier. At least Harry didn't have to come out and say it himself.

Hermione moaned, "Oh…Harry. How...how did it happen?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, I think he's pretty sure how it happened, Hermione."

Harry gaped at Ron and did push that image behind his shields. He had no wish to think of the mechanics of his conception.

Hermione flashed her eyes in annoyance at their red-headed friend. "Harry knows what I mean, Ronald," she said heatedly, "and so do you."

"Please…Not now," Harry pleaded.

Both Ron and Hermione looked properly embarrassed at their quipping and turned their attention back to Harry. Ron nudged Harry in the shoulder, and Harry and Hermione both shuffled down to make room for Ron at the end. "Mate, are you okay? I mean, if I were to find out that Snape were…" he gulped, unable to finish his sentence.

A flood of relief washed over Harry. His friend hadn't rejected him... yet. But it was enough to bolster Harry's courage so he could continue. "Well…at first I took it how you think that I would," Harry admitted. "Frankly, I was pissed off, that's how I took it. I mean… I found out that my entire life has been a lie instigated by my own mother…and that my father is a man that has hated me since the moment he first laid eyes on me."

A look of confusion set on Hermione's face. "Your…? Harry…did you say your mother lied to you?"

Harry swallowed hard. He had cried enough tears over what his mother had done and he thought they were long since gone, but he could feel them just below the surface, all the same. Harry took a cleansing breath and sat for a few moments as he recalled the lessons Severus had given him. He listened to his rushing river and found solace in the sound of his cascading falls. When he finally felt as if he could keep control of his emotions, he continued to explain. "I received a memory from Mum on my birthday. The professor and I have both seen it." Harry turned from Hermione to Ron and back again—looking for their reaction.

Hermione's jaw dropped in awestruck realization at what Harry had said. "A memory…? A Pensieved memory?"

Harry nodded, his voice warbled a bit, but he maintained his control. "Yeah, she and Severus had lived in the same neighbourhood as children. They were friends at first, and then began seeing each other when they were teenagers. They became engaged after they left Hogwarts."

Ron looked like he had swallowed a slug... again. "You're telling us that she actually… loved him."

"Well don't you think I would have had him in Azkaban by now if it had been something else!" Harry barked.

Ron leaned away from Harry a bit and held up his hands in defence, "Hey mate, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's…it's just that it's a little hard to believe."

Harry felt his cheeks warm from shame. He really didn't have to snap at Ron like that. Ron saw Harry's immediate regret and slowly put his arms down. Harry understood why his friend found it so hard to believe…after all, so had Harry initially. "No. I'm the one who's sorry, Ron. I shouldn't have yelled like that. But to answer your question, Mum's marriage to dad…I mean James…was a fake. She told Severus that I was J... James' son."

Harry found it odd. As much as Harry was coming to terms with the fact that Severus was his father, he had just as much difficulty coming to terms with the fact that James Potter was not.

Hermione looked incensed, perhaps even disappointed, "Why…why would she do that? Why would she do that if she loved the professor…?" As if hit by an epiphany she muttered, "Oh my… No wonder he's treated you like…Harry, how did the professor take it?"

"I don't know how Severus first took it," Harry said honestly. "But I do know he was angry with Mum for never telling him. He said everything would have been different if he had known."

"'Severus'?" Ron asked incredulously. "You call him by his first name too?"

Harry shrugged, "Well, it just wouldn't seem right to call him 'Professor Snape', would it. He understands why I can't call him…well… you know."

Ron sighed. Harry noticed his friend was flushed and his freckles were more noticeable. "Yeah…I know, mate. I'm just surprised he hasn't made your liver a part of his Potion's kit."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Harry would have once been inclined to think the same thing himself.

Then Hermione said, "Harry, you said the professor said that things would have been different had he known. Do you mean to say that he wouldn't have denied you?"

Harry nodded. The one thing that could be said about his friends, they really did listen to him. "If it wasn't for his position as a spy, I think he'd tell the whole world right now." Harry's heart pulled at him when he thought again where Severus was at that moment, but he couldn't help but to smile a bit when he thought of the truth of his statement. Unlike the Dursley's…Harry's father wanted him.

"You mean he wants to be your father?" Ron was obviously having a hard time believing that last bit, but once again, he hit the nail on the head. From the astonished look on Ron's face, Harry might as well have told him that Draco Malfoy wanted to be adopted by the Weasleys.

"Yeah…Yeah, I think he does." Harry felt a rush through his body. For some reason, saying the words out loud, made them seem all that more true.

Harry watched Hermione as she got up from the bed and knelt in front of him. She gently took his hands and asked, "What about you, Harry? What do you want?"

Harry shut his eyes and took in a sharp breath.

What did he want?

He didn't know if he wasn't sure…or just didn't want to admit anything to himself yet.

"I don't know," he said with honest uncertainty. "I really don't know how to feel about this. I mean, sometimes I think that I could get used to the idea of having a dad…Even Severus. It might be kind of…nice. I've always wanted an adult to turn to like that. I've always wanted one but I don't know if I could get used to it. And then I think about Dad…James. He raised me as his own and gave me his name. He loved me enough to sacrifice himself to protect me and Mum. How can I just forget about that?"

"You don't, Harry," Hermione said sympathetically. "But it doesn't mean you can't have the other too?"

Something seemed to be bothering Ron as Harry noticed his friend seemed to be breathing harder…if only a little. "But Harry, can you forgive Snape for how he's treated you over the past four years? I don't care what your mum and James Potter did, he had no right to treat you that way."

"Ronald." Hermione bit under her breath.

"No, Hermione…Ron's right." Harry said to Hermione and then turned to Ron. "Severus has admitted to the same thing. He even apologised."

"And you're just going to leave it at that?" Ron asked incredulity. "One apology and all is forgiven and forgotten?"

"No," Harry said defiantly. "But it's more than that, too. It's everything…It's…Oh…I don't know exactly how to describe it to you Ron, but I can tell you he's never lied to me."

Ron didn't say anything. He only sat there with a pensive look on his face. Harry had no clue as to what his friend was thinking. He only hoped that he still had a friend by the end of the conversation. If he lost Ron, Harry knew the sting would hurt him to the core.

Maybe it was the Occlumency lessons, or maybe it was because he had finally seen what his mother had in Severus, but as much as it hurt Harry to admit, if it came down between Ron and Severus, he had no idea which one he would choose anymore.

Hermione only afforded Ron one quick glance then returned her attention back to Harry. "Harry, about your mum…do you know if she was ever going to tell the professor?"

Harry nodded and said so softly he practically whispered, "She said she would...someday."

Hermione just continued to sit still and hold Harry's hand. They all sat there in awkward silence until Ron hesitantly said, "Harry…I still don't understand any of this. It's not that I don't believe it, because I know you would never lie to us…especially about something like this. But for the life of me, I can't understand why Lily and James Potter would do something so despicable."

Harry now understood why Ron looked almost betrayed. It wasn't that Harry had done some unforgivable sin by being Severus Snape's son—or even that Severus had done anything as unforgivable as being Harry's father. But unlike Harry and Hermione, Ron had been raised on the legend of the Potters. Although Ron hadn't looked on Harry as some mythical hero since that first ride on the Hogwarts' Express, Lily and James Potter retained their sainted status. To say that the Potters could do something seemingly so cruel to someone who was innocent of any wrongdoing was akin to blasphemy. Just as Harry had felt off-kilter when he heard the news, Ron was dealing with his own sense of disorientation right now.

"Well, Mum said she did it to protect us because of Severus being a spy and she was afraid that if You-Know-Who found out that Severus was secretly married to a Muggle, that we would all be killed."

Ron's eyes narrowed in righteous anger, but Harry did not need to wonder who for when Ron said, "That seems like a lame excuse to me. I've never liked Snape, but the one thing I have to admit, he's smart enough to have found a way to protect you and your mum. It's just not right what they did."

"I'm not saying it was," Harry admitted, "What is done-is done. But there's something else that you two need to be aware of."

Now it was Hermione's righteous anger on Harry's behalf that flared up. "There's more? Harry, how much more do they expect you to take before you go mad?"

Harry almost snorted. He only wished there was a 'they' that he could lash out at.

But Harry couldn't help but feel heartened. His friends weren't angry at him…they were angry for him. He just hoped they would take they next bit of news without hexing the walls. "Well…you know how everybody tells me how much I look like my…James?"

"Yes," answered Hermione as Ron nodded. "Sirius and Remus are always talking about how much you resemble your dad... I mean James," she corrected.

"Yeah, mate… If you're Snape's son, why do you look so much like James Potter?"

Harry felt like his chest might collapse on him and he tightly shut his eyes and once again searched for his peaceful centre. He was grabbing Hermione's hands so tightly, his knuckles were turning white, as were hers. Even under the intense pressure, Hermione did not twitch. But he found his peaceful place again and let go of his iron grip. He was ashamed that he might have hurt his friend and said, "I'm sorry, Hermione."

She waved off his apology and said, "I'm fine. What else do you have to tell us, Harry?"

Harry still hesitated. Not because he was afraid any longer of his friend's rejection. It was just…that out of everything…he found this next bit to be the most disturbing and he didn't know why. Harry dug deep and plucked up his Gryffindor courage and said, "My mother cast a spell that would make me look like James Potter…but it started to wear off on my fifteenth birthday."

Both Hermione and Ron's jaws dropped simultaneously in disbelief. It was almost enough to make Harry laugh. Why had he ever considered shutting them out? They looked at each other and then at Harry.

"Harry, do you mean that you're going to start looking like the professor?" Again, she clasped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened as she stared at Harry's face as if looking for changes.

"Well…your hair is straighter and I think you're taller than last time we saw you," observed Ron. "But that doesn't necessarily have anything to do with a spell. Other than that, you don't seem to have changed much, so it can't be that bad…right?" Ron sounded as though he were trying to convince himself as much as Harry.

"I don't know Ron," Hermione was now in her academic mode. "These types of charms are tricky and complex. It can take up to a year to reverse depending on the complexity of the physical alteration. If the changes are few and subtle, it might not take very long and could be barely noticeable. If they are drastic, that's another story all together. Unlike Polyjuice transformations, these spells are semi-permanent. Harry's body grew into this form. It's not going to want to change. Not only that, by the time the changes are complete…Harry may be unrecognisable as his former self. But either way, the changes are going to be painful."

Harry said sardonically, "Thanks, Hermione. You sure know how to buck a guy up."

Ron just looked at Hermione like she had sprouted a second head. "Where do you come up with all of this guff?"

"I read, Ronald," she said acidly. "You ought to try it sometime!"

Harry knew the bickering between his friends was good natured enough. He knew it was a result of the two denying that they've had a crush on each other since at least third year, but he really didn't want to listen to it right now. None of it solved Harry's immediate problem. "But what should I do about Sirius?" he asked miserably.

"Tell him what you told us of course," Hermione said as if it were as simple as a Boil Cure.

"Yeah Harry…it might take him a while to get used to the idea…but if I can get used to it, certainly Sirius can," Ron assured him.

Was it really so easy? He had to say something. Sirius would know something was wrong. Between Severus' familiar use of Harry's name and Harry's worry over Severus' summons, Sirius would eventually demand an explanation. The night was going to be stressful enough without an argument with Sirius.

"Harry…" Hermione said softly. "There's something else…isn't there?"

"Of course there is, Hermione," Ron said grimly on Harry's behalf. "It was pretty obvious downstairs. Don't worry, mate. I understand... and so does Hermione."

Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron curiously.

"I know you sympathise with me. But how could you and Hermione possibly understand, Ron?"

Ron reached out and put his hand over Hermione's as she still held on to Harry's and he said solemnly, "Because we have dads too."

Sirius knew the dinner Molly made was lovely, it always was. Tonight it was pork chops with Pease pudding, carrots, and roasted apples. It smelled divine, but to Sirius…he might as well be eating sawdust. Sirius noted that he wasn't the only one off his stomach tonight.

Sirius kept glancing up at his godson. He had been up in his room for over an hour talking to his friends. They had obviously been talking about something of importance. Ron and Hermione kept giving Sirius appraising glances whilst they slowly ate. If it weren't for the fact that no one else seemed to be giving him much notice, Sirius would swear that the twins must have hexed his face. But Harry wasn't eating at all. If anything, the boy was making art on his plate with his Pease pudding.

Whatever it was, it obviously had to do with that bastard, Snape. There was something not right with that exchange when Snape brought Harry to the house and abruptly left to answer his master's call.

Snape had called Harry by his first name and if he didn't know better, Sirius would swear that Harry was actually worried about Snivellus, but that couldn't be right. Snape calling Harry by his first name and threatening Sirius if he did not take proper care of his own godson was probably Snape's way of trying to look good in front of the Weasley's and Remus.

Well…the son-of-a bitch wasn't fooling Sirius.

Unfortunately, Sirius was alone in his suspicions and had no one to share them with. Remus, who had a rather annoying and dangerous habit of being overly cautious, seemed to have accepted the Headmaster's explanation that Snivellus was actually a spy. Oh…Sirius had no doubt that Snape was spy.

He was a spy, alright…just not for the good guys.

Sirius was going to have to think of a way to get Harry from Snape, but as things were now, Sirius wouldn't get far with his godson if he just took off in the middle of the night. And once he was caught (and the Headmaster would catch him) Sirius would lose what protection he had from The Order. At the moment-Sirius could not even offer up his own memories or voluntarily submit himself to Veritaserum in front of the Wizengamot without endangering Remus.

The worry wasn't that the Ministry would find out that Remus was a Werewolf. Remus had been legally registered since he was three years old, but if it were found out that Remus had been out running amuck without the benefit of his Wolfsbane, he could be in very serious trouble indeed. So for now, Sirius was reluctantly resigned to sitting on his arse, waiting for Peter to slip up or some other miracle to occur so he can finally claim custody of Harry and give James and Lily's son the stable home he so desperately needed.

No matter what everybody said, Sirius could never believe that the situation Harry was in now was the best for the boy. Nobody else seemed to believe that it was possible that Albus Dumbledore wasn't infallible. Sirius had become all-too-aware of that fact fourteen years ago. He hadn't fully trusted the Headmaster's judgment since. And now that Dumbledore had put Harry into the care of a former Death Eater, he was certain that he was right to question the Head of The Order.

Sirius cursed himself. He cursed himself for letting Peter get away over a year ago. All it would have taken was a damned Petrificus Totalus and a Mobilicorpus, just as they had done with Snape. But Peter had escaped again, and Sirius was still a fugitive from the law with no legal say over his godson's fate. How ironic. He had a good laugh at how Snape was helpless from keeping Sirius from smashing his head against the tunnel walls, but Sirius was totally at ease with letting a murder walk away from the Shrieking Shack of his own volition. Sirius felt like a total failure to James…and to Harry.

It was obvious that Harry had said something to his best mates. He had never seen the trio look so on-edge. But as if dinner hadn't already uncomfortable enough…Remus had to bring the awkward level up a couple of notches.

Remus asked, "Harry, was there anybody at Hogwarts when Severus brought you here?"

Harry looked up from his pork chop as if he were wondering if Remus asked him a trick question. "Uh…I don't think so. I think we were the only ones in the castle…He didn't want to leave me alone."

Molly cried scandalously, "You mean there's no one in the castle?"

Sirius dropped his fork and raised his hands. "I knew it! I just knew it! See…what did I tell you? Dumbledore trusted Snape and he left the castle doors wide open for the snake-bastard to slither right in."

Harry interjected, "That's not true Sirius. He said he had to get me to you. He was rushed for time. I'm sure he just forgot in his hurry."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. This defiantly wasn't right. Why the hell was Harry defending Snivellus?

Remus shook his head and put his hands up as if in reassurance. "No… that's not the case. There has to at least be a Head of House at the castle at all times," he began to explain. "If for any reason there is not, the castle will automatically lock itself down until the Headmaster returns.

"But no one has seen Albus," Molly said worriedly. "There's no telling when he will return."

"Not true, Molly dear," Arthur cut in from the other end of the table. "The Headmaster will return in plenty of time before term begins, lockdown or not. I don't know what he has been doing over the last few days…but I saw him at the Ministry when I left this evening. I wouldn't doubt if we should be hearing from him soon," he said confidently as he speared a large piece of roasted apple and tucked into it with one bite.

"See…Severus knew what he was doing," Remus defended. "After all…he was only trying to get Harry to safety."

Harry dropped his fork, apparently giving up on the notion of eating. Sirius wanted to believe that it wasn't out of worry for Snape. It was the greasy git's decision to resume his duties as a spy. Sirius couldn't fathom how anyone trusted the great bat. If Snape wasn't betraying the Order, he was probably at the very least getting his rocks off using Dark Magic freely in You-Know-Who's presence. Sirius didn't doubt if both were true. If that bastard did anything to hurt Harry, Azkaban or not, Sirius would kill him.

Sirius wondered if Snape had Confunded Harry or at least slipped the boy a Befuddlement Draught. It would explain a hell of a lot of Harry's odd behaviour. The boy just seemed so…forlorn at the thought of Snape being gone.

"May be excused…I'm not hungry anymore," Harry said, staring at his plate. Harry's friends, Ron and Hermione, gave each other odd looks.

Molly asked in motherly concern, "What's the matter, dear…You do look rather peaky all of a sudden? Is your supper not sitting well…I have an Anti-Nausea Draught if you need one," she offered.

Harry shook his head and arose from the table without actually receiving permission...not that he actually needed it. Sirius looked intently at his godson for any hint of what the problem could be. "No, that's okay Mrs Weasley," Harry said absently. "I think I'll just go have a lie-down on the couch in the sitting room for a while."

Sirius patted Harry on his arm as he began to walk by, trying to assure the boy that he was there for him. Harry stopped and grabbed his hand for a brief moment, gave Sirius a wan smile, then left the room.

Sirius rounded on Remus as soon as Harry was out of earshot.

"Look what you did, Moony! You've gone and upset Harry by bringing up Snape! There's something going on that boy isn't telling me about!"

Remus took offence to Sirius' accusations. "Honestly, Padfoot…you and Severus have got to get over your old schoolyard cock-fights. Especially now that Harry is under his mentorship, it is bound to cause some conflict in the boy. He's obviously worried about Severus."

"He's not worried about Snivellus!" Sirius said, hopping if he said it aloud, it would be true. "That son of..." Oops! Sirius almost forgot there were children in the house. "I mean, Snape's treated Harry like sh...like a do...like filth for four years. How is Harry supposed to forget that? I can't understand how you can so blindly trust him?"

Harry's friends knew something. Hermione stabbed at her carrots and stared off into space. Ron was jabbing at his food as well. Both were doing a piss-poor job of pretending they weren't listening in on the conversation.

Remus answered, affronted, "How can I not trust him? Have you forgotten what Severus has done for me—your best friend?" Remus continued to rant as he pointed his fork at Sirius. "Every month he brews my Wolfsbane Potion…correctly I might add…and doesn't charge me a single Knut." Remus then stabbed a carrot and engulfed it.

Like it or not, Sirius had to concede that point. Wolfsbane was notoriously difficult to brew, thus making it so expensive, it was unattainable by most. It would be all too easy for Snape to purposely muck-up the potion and poison Remus...or even crueller...make his condition worse. But it still didn't mean he trusted Snape with Harry. Or perhaps Sirius was feeling a tad bit jealous at all the time Snape was spending with his godson. "I'm sorry Remus…it's just that Snape looked a little too 'fatherly' if you want to know the truth of it."

Ron started to choke on his pudding. Hermione gave him a swift 'THWACK' on his back to get it down. She then quickly began stuffing her face in a very un-ladylike fashion.

"Careful, Ron…I know you're a growing young man. But there's no reason to inhale your food," Sirius lightly teased, yet kept a suspicious eye on the teens.

"Yeah…Thanks," Ron choked out through his tears.

Molly rushed over and offered her youngest son a glass of water whilst Remus turned back to Sirius and continued the conversation. "Sirius, if you're concerned about Harry let him know. Let him know that if he has any trouble with Severus that he can turn you."

"Thanks, Moony…You're right." Sirius reluctantly admitted. Perhaps Harry just didn't think that now Snape was his 'mentor' that he could turn to anyone else. Well, Sirius was determined that he would put an end to that notion immediately. Feeling a bit more confident, he dabbed his mouth with his serviette and put it on his plate. He arose from the table and gave Remus a grateful pat on the back. "If it wasn't for you old friend…I don't think I'd ever get my head out of my arse."

"Language!"

"Sorry, Molly."

A table full of teenagers were trying to stifle their laughs as Sirius left the kitchen.

Sirius hesitantly called out into the dark sitting room, "Harry?"

"I'm here." Harry's voice sounded small. Sirius could only see the top of the boy's head over the back of the dusty, thickly upholstered sofa.

Sirius came around to the front of the sofa. Harry was hunched over and Sirius knelt down so not to tower over the boy.

"Harry…" he asked gently, "Is everything alright? You said that you needed to speak to me." He assumed that the boy was having a problem with Snape, but he thought it best not to accuse until he knew exactly what was going on.

Harry wasn't taking his eyes off the Floo. Sirius' heart sank when he realised that Harry was actually waiting for Snape. "Yeah…I need to tell you something about me and Severus, but I'm afraid that you won't love me anymore."

Dear Merlin! It was worse that Sirius thought. He could only think of one reason why the boy was using the bastard's first name so casually. Sirius couldn't help but to bellow with rage, "I'LL KILL THE SON OF A BITCH!"

Yes...he would kill the fucking pervert! Dumbledore be damned!

Harry quickly stood up and tried to force Sirius to sit down. "No…no…Sirius…It's nothing like that at all!"

"Well, what the hell is it then, Harry? What did Snape do?"

"Why is it everyone always imagines the worst about Severus Snape!"

"Because he's a bloody Death Eater!"

"No-he's-not!" Harry bit out. "You're just too blinded by hate to see the truth for what it is!"

Sirius wanted to cut out his tongue for snapping at Harry. The boy stood there defiantly, with his fists clenched, practically shaking with pent-up rage. Sirius was tempted to say that Harry was too close to the situation to see the truth, but it was obvious that Harry was too set in his convictions to listen to reason at the moment. Sirius would address the problem at another time when Harry's emotional state had calmed down a couple of notches. Right now, he needed to get down to the problem at hand.

"Okay, Harry, then what is wrong?" It was Sirius who gently prompted Harry to sit back down and calm himself. Sirius slowly took a seat next to his godson.

Sirius took out his wand from his sleeve and charmed a fire to give light and warmth to the cold dank room. The house was too dark and anything to lighten Harry's mood had to help.

"Don't you know that you can tell me anything? There is nothing in the world that you could ever do or say that would make me stop loving you," Sirius swore to Harry.

Harry gulped and then wiped back a tear with a handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket. Sirius scowled when he noticed the monogram of 'SS'. Something just wasn't right here.

"Not even if I told you that Professor Snape…and not James Potter…is my father?"

For a moment Sirius stopped felt like he had been stung by a Stinging Hex. What was this new madness? "Who told you that? Snape? It's a lie, Harry," Sirius tried to assure his godson when he was finally capable of speech again. Of course it was a lie.

Harry shook his head dejectedly, "No…it wasn't the professor who told me...It was Mum."

Sirius fought the overwhelming urge to shake the cobwebs out of his head. He couldn't have heard the boy correctly. "Lily? Harry what do you mean? How could your mum possib... "

"She sent me a pensieved memory on my birthday…"

Sirius leaned back into the sofa, and despite the urge to go numb, he listened as Harry told him everything that had happened over the past two weeks, from the moment he received the memory from Lily, to the Occlumency lessons…and why was it, when he should feel happiest for his godson…he couldn't help but feel the last precious threads he had to his late best friend, irrevocably slipping away.

Sirius still sat with his back against the couch. He felt wasted and completely defeated. He idly wondered if he looked as bad as he felt. "Why didn't James tell me?" he mumbled to himself. "Why didn't he trust me?"

"That's the same thing the professor asked about Mum," Harry said numbly.

Despite everything Harry had just explained and no matter how much it seemed to answer some very nagging questions that Sirius had forced himself to forget years ago, he was having trouble allowing himself to believe it. "Harry…are you sure that Snape hasn't Confunded you? Are you sure that he has done nothing to hurt you?"

"No," Harry said irritably. "He did not Confund me, he did not curse me, and he did not put anything in my bloody pumpkin juice. Every bit of it is the truth…even Dumbledore says so… And Severus has done nothing to hurt me," Harry said emphatically. "In fact if it wasn't for him…I wouldn't have even had the courage to tell anyone."

"Have you told your friends?"

"Yeah…He told me that I could…and you too. He said that I shouldn't isolate myself from my friends anymore. He said that I need them."

"Snape told you that?" Sirius said mostly to himself in disbelief. Maybe Harry wasn't the one who was Confunded… maybe it was Snape.

"Yes he did…Sirius…I think that he really...lo... cares... about me."

Sirius really had his doubts about that, but Harry looked so hopeful, as if he wanted Sirius' approval. But how could Sirius approve of anything as far as Snape was concerned. Harry couldn't be Snape's son. Harry simply looked too much like James. But before Sirius could refute Harry…the Floo came to life.

Severus had just been dismissed from a private meeting with the Dark Lord. He left the mad man's presence in the sitting room of Riddle Manor. Now Severus had to ready himself to take his place within the Inner Circle.

His mind was racing and he had to concentrate to maintain his calm. 'Mad-Man' was too kind of a term to use for the self-styled Dark Lord. Perhaps 'Deranged Lunatic' or 'Monster' was more fitting.

Yes…'Monster' seemed to sum it up…for to qualify as a deranged lunatic…one at least had to be human and all notions that the Dark Lord had any vestiges of his past humanity left, were now permanently erased from Severus' mind, for the monster had just charged Severus with the unthinkable.

Lucius Malfoy had found the potion—and in a school, no less. It was hidden away in an obscure tome in the restricted section of the Durmstrang library.

What the Dark Lord was planning was beyond madness...and it was all because he had been bested by a boy… not once, but four times... twice whilst he was in the height of his power.

The Dark Lord had become obsessed with killing Harry and despite his importuning that Harry Potter was nothing more than a mere boy. It was apparent to any who dared even admit the truth to themselves, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had come to inwardly fear The-Boy-Who-Lived. If one took a look at their mutual history, it did look as though if Harry Potter were allowed to live, he would someday be powerful enough to actually kill the Dark Lord outright.

True…neither was the Dark Lord in a hurry to duel with Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore was still as brilliant as he was incredibly powerful, but he was also getting old. The Dark Lord believed that he only had to play a waiting game before age and senility finally rendered its toll on the Headmaster.

Harry Potter on the other hand was young and had yet to reach his full magical potential. Although the Dark Lord claimed that it was impossible for him to die, it was obvious that the needed assurances in regards to Harry.

The Dark Lord finally believed those assurances had been found.

It was a little known fact that in the Wizarding world, the most powerful wizards and witches were almost always first born or only children. Blood purity mattered little when it came to magical prowess. It was obvious if one chose to research the phenomenon. Apparently, the Dark Lord had done just that.

The potion that Severus had been charged to brew…Sacrificum Abalienatio Haeres…took gruesome advantage of that fact. It was one of the oldest manuscripts Severus had ever seen. It appeared as if it might have been written by a wizard who could have been a follower of Herpo the Foul.

As far as Severus was aware, the original cult dedicated to the dark wizard had flourished for over 600 years and was disbanded sometime in the 2nd century. The manuscript did not appear to be that ancient, but it was possible that a few acolytes remained dedicated down through the centuries. Severus wondered if the potion had been invented by an acolyte or if it had been passed down through the generations beginning with Herpo himself.

Severus also wondered if that was where the Dark Lord had found reference to the potion to begin with…in some of the ancient writings dedicated to Herpo's work. It was more than obvious that the Dark Lord had been introduced to the ancient Dark Wizard's writings at some point. Herpo had been the first wizard to create a Basilisk and he controlled it with the use of Parseltongue. He was also the creator of the first Horcrux. Severus had surmised correctly, along with Albus, that the Dark Lord used a Horcrux. It was the reason Albus had always insisted that the Dark Lord was not dead…merely vanquished. The Dark Lord's return this past spring confirmed their suspicions.

Regardless, whether or not the potion could be attributed to Herpo the Foul or not, it was definitely a concoction the ancient Dark Wizard would be proud to claim for his own.

The potion called for the willing sacrifice from a parent of their first born Wizarding child. The drinker would then obtain the power of the sacrificed. The Dark Lord was taking no chances. He would require no less than one-hundred such sacrifices. It was clear that the Dark Lord was now not only striving for immortality…the bastard was striving to become omnipotent as well.

What wasn't explained to Severus was where the Dark Lord intended to find one-hundred witches and wizards to willingly commit filicide on the monster's behalf, because as far as Severus had read, the sacrifice had to be willing. It was most likely intended to be used by a psychopathic parent looking to increase their magic. Legend did suggest that Herpo killed his eldest daughter…if this potion could be connected to him, Severus now knew why.

Severus wasn't certain if even placing a wizard under the Imperious Curse would qualify as a willing sacrifice. But the real question was...did the Dark Lord think it mattered?

But the potion's history and the Dark Lord's motivations were irrelevant . What mattered was that the Dark Lord intended to kill one-hundred children... but whose children?

Whoever these children were, the Order would do everything possible to save them. At the moment, Severus could only conceive of one way of stopping the madness, and it was a short term solution at best.

As Severus approached the graveyard where the meeting was to take place, he spoke to no one. The meeting was not just of the Inner Circle, but also of lesser minions as well. The only time when anyone spoke at these larger gatherings was at the behest of the Dark Lord.

Severus assumed he knew the reason for the large gathering. The Dark Lord intended to send his Death Eaters on the hunt.

No sooner had the last Death Eater taken his place, the Dark Lord Apparated into the centre of the circle…there were seven concentric large rings surrounding the Dark Lord, each one larger than the last. Just as any properly enslaved minion would, every Death Eater fell on bended knee and averted their eyes until given permission to arise and look up, and they would be given permission…so the Dark Lord would have easier access to their thoughts.

"Arise my children…and look upon your Lord."

Severus arose, along with the other Death Eaters. It was an eerie scene. Between the darkness of the night and the dark robes of the Death Eaters, all he could see of the others was the hoary glint of disembodied skulls that were actually the silver masks of other Death Eaters. Severus had no idea who they were nor could he read the emotion on their faces. The only other identities he was sure of were those of the Death Eaters standing on either side of him...Walden McNair on his left and Lucius on his right. Severus did not need to see the look on their faces. They were in close enough proximity that Severus could feel the nervous tension radiate off them in waves…especially Lucius.

Severus did not have time to wonder about how much Lucius might have known before the Dark Lord spoke again in his rasped voice, "My children…My most beloved."

As if the crazed lunatic knew the meaning of Love.

Thankfully, Severus was Occluded, because such simpering declarations coming from the foul creature would have otherwise turned Severus' stomach.

Instead, Severus simply mimicked the rest of the following, intoning, "My Lord."

The Dark Lord's lipless smile was…unsettling as he practically hissed, "I have most joyous news. That which I have sought has been found…A celebration is in order. What say you?"

Severus droned along with the rest of the coven the only words they were expected to say. "We are overcome with anticipation, Lord."

"Yes…I know you are my children." Severus kept is breathing in check. Despite the loyalty most of the Death eaters willing professed, the air was rank with the smell of fear…something Severus noticed… that was not lost on the Dark Lord. The demon-made-flesh seemed to drink in the fear of his own minions.

"As a reward for your diligence for finding my prize so expeditiously..." the Dark Lord gave a slight nod in recognition to Lucius, "I shall reward those of you who have sired, the privilege of inducting your first born into my service."

Severus' heart skipped a beat.

Harry!

Merlin! He wants the firstborn of his own Death Eaters!

Of course…the sacrifices had to be willing. But even the Dark Lord could not be as narcissistic to believe his Death Eaters were so blindly loyal as to sacrifice their own children to him…or could he?

Severus reined in his rising panic and immediately bolstered his shields before he compromised himself, but it was still too late. He felt a slight brush of consciousness against his mind. Severus thought he closed his mind fast enough so the Dark Lord would not recognise him, but he couldn't be certain.

The Dark Lord's pace became slower as he made his way around the circle and came closer…his glowing red eyes narrowed even more as he seemed to hesitate between Lucius and Severus.

"What is this…One amongst you does not wish to accept my gracious gift."

As if it were possible for the congregation to be any quieter, standing in within the Inner Circle of Death Eaters in the middle of the graveyard, Severus finally understood the adage, 'silent as the grave'.

It took every ounce of ability Severus possessed to keep his defences in place and not to betray the images and emotions that threated to burst forth like a breached dam. But then, just as Severus thought he had been ousted, The Dark Lord turned to Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius, why do you forsake my gift?"

Malfoy did a poor job in restraining his panic. His normally smooth, aristocratic voice wavered when he said, "I do not my Lord. I tremble with anticipation for the honour of presenting Draco to you."

A cold, throaty chuckle arose from the Dark Lord. It did not bode well for Lucius. "Yes…you tremble, Lucius… but not from anticipation." In a sickly mocking, sing-song voice, the Dark Lord asked, "Do you not wish your son to follow in your noble footsteps and serve your beloved Dark Lord?"

"Of course, My Lor…"

"LIAR!"

The Dark Lord aimed his wand and hit Malfoy with a silent Crucio square in the chest. Severus had no choice but to look on in ambivalence as Malfoy screamed and writhed in pain on the ground like a dying animal. After what seemed like several minutes, the Dark Lord finally had his way with Lucius.

Then the Dark Lord casually meandered his way back to the centre of his coven, unconcerned… as if he had simply stepped on a slug rather than just tortured one of his favourites.

Malfoy still lay upon the ground, convulsing in a foetal position.

No Death Eater dared show pity.

The self-styled Dark Lord looked out upon his loyal followers. Something was not right. Not all were as loyal as they seemed. The hesitation he sensed had not only come from Lucius. There was another consciousness—one he could no longer detect. It was there for a fraction of a second and then it was gone.

He scanned his followers for any treacherous thoughts... and found none. Why could he not find the other traitor?

There was an Occlumens in his midst…and not just any Occlumens. Normally, Lord Voldemort could easily shred through an Occluded mind like an arrow through wet parchment...but this one… This one was so strong, not even he…the most powerful Legilimens ever…could find the turncoat. Perhaps there were simply too many minds to sift through.

Lord Voldemort had acquired many new sycophants since his return…perhaps one of them? He could discern nothing illicit from his Inner Circle…other than pitiful Lucius that was. Severus had no children, so he had no worries of his coveted Potion Master being the guilty one.

When he found out whom the offender was ...they would dearly pay. A Dementor's Kiss would be preferable to what the Dark Lord would do.

The Dark Lord was no fool. He was not about to expose such a weakness announcing that someone was capable of hiding their thoughts from him.

Lord Voldemort looked out amongst his 'loyal' followers and saw nothing but complacency…and he felt nothing for them but contempt.

His chest began to heave as his rage increased. Did someone actually think they were going to get away with such perfidy?

The traitor had to be punished. And if the Dark Lord could not find the culprit …they would all suffer for the guilty party's trespass.

Drawing up all of his considerable rage and hate and focusing it into his magic, the Dark Lord cried, "CRUCIO!"

The Dark Lord drank in their anguish like sweet ambrosia as a chorus of pain echoed in the night and wrapped over him like a balm when over one-hundred Death Eaters screamed at once in communal agony.

Harry had come to the conclusion long ago that life wasn't fair; the events of today seemed to reinforce that sentiment in him. Only this morning, did Harry think he was finally going to have a day of no worries…of feeling normal. But instead Harry had been blindsided again and here he was facing his godfather with news he wasn't sure he was ready to share while waiting…hoping…for Severus to return unharmed.

When Sirius finally asked Harry what had been bothering him, Harry told a half truth. Harry told his godfather about his true parentage. He didn't tell Sirius about the part of being worried about Severus to the point of distraction.

Ron's words still resonated in Harry's head…that the reason Harry was so worried about Severus was because he was afraid of losing his dad. Harry had to admit, his friends never ceased to amaze him. He hadn't realised how much it meant for them to accept his and Severus' building relationship or how attached he had actually become to Severus until Ron had said that word.

Dad.

Was Harry actually beginning to see Severus as Dad? Well…he was definitely beginning to feel like Severus' son, but was it the same? He was almost afraid to think the word. It was a small word, but meant so much.

As much as Sirius seemed outwardly to be supportive, Harry could sense that something wasn't quite right. For some reason, Harry thought that Sirius still didn't quite believe him about Severus. That somehow—Harry was mistaken or someone was playing an elaborate prank and Harry had fallen for it.

Harry had just told Sirius that he believed that Severus cared, but he could tell from the look on Sirius' face that his godfather didn't believe that either.

It was just then that the Floo had come to life and for an instant the room was ablaze in a fiery emerald light.

Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he anticipated the arrival Severus, but it sank just as quickly when the Headmaster stepped majestically through the Floo instead, his port wine damask robes gently settled around him as the green flames died down.

Sirius looked slightly put off for having their conversation interrupted. "Headmaster…What a pleasant surprise," Sirius said, sounding anything but pleasantly surprised.

"There is no need for exaggeration, Sirius," The Headmaster said good-naturedly as he smiled and looked to Harry. "As Hogwarts is presently in lock-down, I naturally assumed that Severus brought Harry here."

Harry wondered if there was anything the Headmaster did not smile about. Harry certainly could not see anything worth smiling over. The only reason Harry was here was because Severus was with Voldemort.

Sirius didn't bother to hide his grimace as he gestured for Dumbledore to sit in one of the chintz chairs. The headmaster obliged, and adjusted his robes before he spoke. "Harry…Has your father returned from his foray?"

Harry really wished the Headmaster hadn't said that. Not because he was averse to being reminded about his relation to Severus, but because it had obvious upset Sirius. Sirius had leapt from the couch and opted to lean against the mantle and brood as he watched over the conversation.

"Uh…no," said Harry as he suddenly put his hand to his forehead.

Something was wrong. A dull pain began to thud right behind his scar. It didn't hurt, really. It was just distracting more than anything else. He did not have a vision, only a quick flash of emotion that was not his. It did not feel like an invasion, but as if by sheer instinct, Harry pulled his conscious thoughts behind his shields.

The Headmaster's jovial demeanour suddenly turned grim. "Harry, are you Occluding?" The Headmaster moved from the chair and quickly took over the spot previously occupied by Sirius. Dumbledore took Harry's face into his hands, and with his aged thumb, gently traced the outline of Harry's scar, looking at it as if waiting for something to happen. Harry just nodded silently in affirmation to the Headmaster's question.

In a flash, Sirius was kneeling in front of Harry. His concern was etched on his face. "What is it Headmaster? I thought You-Know-Who wouldn't be able to mess with Harry's head once he learned this Occlumency you and Snape keep going on about," he said judgmentally.

"I don't think that is the case Sirius," said Albus, easily brushing off the younger wizard's criticism. "Harry? Do you know what is causing your scar to flare?"

Harry's heart raced and he was having a hard time not to panic. He suddenly felt as if his worry for Severus had just been justified.

Harry simply nodded and said, "I think so…I'm not having a vision, if that's what you're worried about," he reassured the two older wizards. "I think that I can tell what he is feeling, though."

"What who is feeling?" Sirius asked anxiously.

Harry and the Headmaster both ignored Sirius' question. The Headmaster kept his attention totally fixed on Harry and he gently coaxed, "What do you feel, Harry?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to remind himself to breathe. He said, "It was just for a split second and then I shut it out. I think he's angry about something, Headmaster."

Harry grabbed Sirius' hand and held on like a vice. "Where is he, Headmaster? Where is my Da…Severus?"

Sirius looked crestfallen and had withdrawn his hand. Harry wondered if Sirius was even aware of what he had done. Harry might have cried if he had the energy to do so.

Harry had almost called Snape 'Dad' and Sirius had obviously been offended. Harry hadn't meant to say it. It was just that between Dumbledore and Ron, Harry couldn't help but to think about it. Did Sirius' affections really run so shallow…did he really offer his love so conditionally? It broke Harry's heart to think so.

"Harry…do not be overly worried for your father," Harry's eyes narrowed in the same fashion as Severus'. That to—did not go unnoticed by Sirius and his heart sank at the implication. Harry had simply been spending too much time around the git…that was all. Sirius tried to convince himself that Harry had nothing in common what-so-ever with Snivellus Snape.

And Sirius would have to speak with the Headmaster. Poor Harry really believed that Snape was his father. No wonder with all of the reinforcement the Headmaster was giving. Harry had almost called Snivellus 'Dad'. Oh, how James and Lily must be rolling in their graves right now. It was too heart wrenching and an abomination to their memories and sacrifice. There was no way the line of bullshite Snape and the Headmaster was feeding Harry could be true. Lily had simply been too good and James too proud to ever pull off a lie such as Harry had just told him…and certainly James would have told his best friend.

Albus Dumbledore was known for his Machiavellian planning and that sneaky Slytherin Snape…Sirius would never trust him. Sirius was certain that the two conspirators had plans for Harry. No doubt Dumbledore would claim they were for the greater good, but Sirius was certain no good would come to Harry.

Sirius had to continue to bite his tongue as the Headmaster rambled on. "Your father's skills at subterfuge are unsurpassed. He has come out unscathed from more perilous situations, I assure you."

Sirius knew that Dumbledore's definition of 'unscathed' was open to interpretation and relative… and from the crestfallen look on Harry's face he was obviously still concerned. Sirius could not help but to feel bad for his godson. It was apparent to Sirius that he would have to talk reason to the boy later. For now, he would try to relieve Harry's anxiety the best he could.

He offered his hand back to Harry. Sirius hadn't even realised that he had pulled it away from his godson to begin with. Harry grabbed for Sirius' hand like a lifeline and squeezed until his godfather's fingers turned white from the loss of circulation. "Harry…I'm sure that Snape will be fine," Sirius said, trying to sound cheerful, but knew his reassurances sounded as hollow as they felt.

Dumbledore arose from the sofa and placed a hand atop Harry's head. "Harry…I assure you that your father will return none the worse for wear," he said soothingly. Sirius could not help but cringe when the Headmaster used that word in reference to Snape. Harry twitched too, which bolstered Sirius for a moment.

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked dejectedly.

"Because with your limited training, I doubt you would be able to block out Voldemort so easily on your own had his wrath been targeted at your father."

Dumbledore's trademark smile returned to his face. It looked sincere enough, but Sirius was on to the manipulative old man. The Headmaster continued as if unaware of Harry and Sirius' discomfort. "Do you need any help Occluding your mind any further, Harry? I can help you, if you need it."

Sirius noticed that Harry's melancholy turned to fear as he quickly shook his head. "No! …I mean…I'm alright now, Sir. I'll just wait for Severus to return."

"Harry, I realise that you have come to trust Severus in these matters, but I assure you that I am fully quallifi…"

"No!" Harry shouted, but then his demeanour just as suddenly turned apologetic. "I mean, no thank you, Sir. I'm fine...honestly."

"I understand, Harry," Dumbledore said sympathetically. The exchange was enough to make Sirius' gut turn. "Just know that the offer stands if you should change your mind."

Harry numbly nodded his understanding. Sirius arose from where he was kneeling in front of Harry and moved to sit in the Headmaster's previous spot.

"Sirius, might I inquire as to where I might find Remus? I have business that I need to discuss with him."

Sirius blinked at the Headmaster—taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

Sirius was naturally perplexed as he answered, "Err…yes. He is probably in the study or down in the kitchen helping Molly."

"Excellent… And don't worry yourself, Harry. All will be well," Dumbledore said confidently.

Harry looked ill as he studied the knot in his shoelaces, "Thank you, Sir," the boy muttered dolefully.

In a flurry of garnet, the Headmaster swiftly left the room, apparently with a new agenda.

Sirius looked at his dejected godson and swallowed his pride. Harry looked so pitiful, and Sirius could not help but to feel for him, no matter who he was pining over. Sirius made an honest effort to sound sympathetic. "Harry…the Headmaster is right…Snape…Well…Snape will be fine."

"You don't have to sound like you care because of me," Harry said flatly.

"But that's just it, Harry…I do care because of you."

Harry looked up at him in confusion, his emerald eyes inflamed and bloodshot from pent-up tears.

"Harry…I cannot pretend that I like Snape…because I don't," Sirius said honestly. "But for reasons I cannot yet fathom… he is obviously important to you. I do not promise any miracles, but for you…I will try to keep my tongue civil."

"Honestly?"

"Yes…Honestly," Sirius held out his arms to invite Harry in. Harry never cried into Sirius robes, but Sirius feel the boy's rapid heartbeat against his chest and feel the warmth of his heavy breathing.

Sirius did feel bad. Though his words were true, he still felt as though he had just lied to his godson. Sirius would remain true to his word and keep his temper in check in front of Harry…but in his heart, he would never believe that anyone other than James Potter was the boy's father.

Albus and Remus had taken advantage of the solitude of Sirius' study. Albus had taken the liberty to explain the situation between Severus and Harry. As with everything else in life…Remus had taken the information in stride. True…he found the story amazing and he felt a definite sense of loss for James, but the past could not be changed…and Harry was still Harry, no matter who his father was.

It had been over an hour since the Headmaster's arrival. The two wizards were exiting the study. Remus could see two familiar silhouetted figures still on the couch in the sitting room across the hall. He smiled to himself. It seemed that his best friend had been able to swallow his pride for Harry's sake, after all.

Sirius had had been in prison for twelve years. He not yet begun to realise that much of the current war was centred around Harry…how Harry had been fighting off Voldemort since he first stepped into Hogwarts Castle. The thing harry needed was problems from the very people he trusted. The stronger the bond amongst Harry's loved ones, the more likely the boy would come out surviving this war.

The Headmaster's second piece of news had come as even more of a shock.

Remus held the door open for Albus to pass when he said, "Shall we go down to the kitchen and have a spot of tea while we wait for Severus, Albus.

"Gladly," Dumbledore congenially answered. As the Headmaster passed the sitting room door on his way to the stairs, he cursorily looked in, seemingly satisfied with what he saw.

The rest of the household had recently retired to their rooms and the place seemed eerily quiet. Remus questioned the Headmaster as they descended the stairs, "Albus, are you quite sure about this? I find it hard to believe that the Board of Governors acquiesced to your request so readily."

The two men entered the kitchen and Albus took his customary seat whilst Remus made his way to the stove to prepare the tea. "Darjeeling or Earl Grey?" Remus offered.

"Darjeeling, if you please… On the contrary," said Albus, not missing a beat from their former conversation. "There is no love lost between the Board of Governors and Minister Fudge. The witches and wizards on the Board are by no means dim-witted or foolish enough to fall for the Minister's poison and they will not be bullied into conceding to his demands…which quite frankly boarder on the absurd. Hogwarts is a private institution, after all, and the Board can hire whomever they choose. Suffice it to say, Werewolf or not, with your record they would have fought tooth and nail to keep the first competent DADA professor the school had seen in decades if you had not so hast…" Albus was stopped mid-sentence by the sound coming from outside. It was the familiar crack of displaced air that accompanied Apparition.

Albus and Remus gave each other knowing looks and abandoned their tea as they both made a dash for the door.

Remus knew something wasn't right when the arriving witch or wizard had not yet come in or at least knock.

When the Headmaster flung open the front door, Remus gasped in horror at the sight of the huddled heap of black robes lying in front of the gates.

"Back upstairs…the lot of you!" ordered Molly to her brood... plus Hermione as Remus carried the semi-conscious Severus easily up the stairs and into the sitting room.

Despite his weakness, Severus still managed to meekly protest, "Put me down, you mangy cur." Unfortunately for Severus, he was not a match for Remus' surprising strength.

"This way, Remus," Arthur directed to the sofa Harry and Sirius had just occupied.

Sirius stood with one arm firmly wrapped around Harry. Poor Harry looked as though all the blood had drained from his face. Remus could swear that the boy had mouthed a word that suspiciously looked like 'Dad'.

Arthur must have noticed as well, for he had an odd look on his face as his eyes went from Harry to Severus. Harry tried to break away from Sirius' grip and snapped at his godfather with an impatient, "Let me go!"

Severus' protests were growing even more vehement as Remus laid him on the couch and Arthur tried to position his legs. "Will you cease this mollycoddling, Weasley?" said Severus snidely as he weakly attempted to arise from the sofa. "I assure you that I am quite capable of moving my own damn legs!"

"From what I see Severus…the only thing you will be doing for the time being is staying still and you will do so or I will not hesitate putting you in a full Body Bind!" The tone in the Weasley Patriarch's voice left no room for argument and as Severus was in no shape to retaliate, he reluctantly gave in but not before he said something that put the entirety of Grimmauld Place into shock.

"Not before I assure my son that I am not on my deathbed."

Remus froze and looked up at Harry as did Arthur and Sirius. He thought that he might have been hallucinating earlier, but seeing the desperation on Harry's face to get to the surly Potion's Master and Severus' own confession…a confession that would never have slipped his lips if Severus had not been in his current condition, Remus realised he had not. Albus had told him, but what he had just witnessed confirmed the reality.

It was Arthur that gave Sirius a sharp look that said he needed to do what Severus asked. Sirius resisted for a moment, and then reluctantly let Harry go.

Harry ran to Severus and knelt down before the couch. He was about to throw his arms around the man when he stopped short. Severus' curtain of black hair was practically plastered on his pale and sweaty face from the pain he was still obviously in.

Instead, Harry reached out and gingerly touch Severus' hands. There was an obvious emotional struggle going on behind Harry's eyes as his voice quivered, "Da…Severus?"

Severus knew he was in worse shape than he originally thought he was. He could have sworn that Harry had almost called him…no…that was impossible.

Severus fought to sit himself up into a more comfortable position, "Harry… I assure you I am quite alright," he grunted as he struggled against the damn sofa cushions and batted away Arthur Weasley's helping hand. "I have endured greater injuries than this."

It was true. Thank heaven Harry hadn't seen Severus after the Dark Lord's initial return. Though the Dark Lord had eventually given his 'forgiveness,' Severus' two-hour delay on the night of his rebirth had resulted in a two-day stay in the hospital.

Severus had finally managed to work his way past his stiff and painful joints and sat up despite Weasley and Lupin's protests that he should stay still. Harry gave a little sniff and a nod and gingerly sat on the edge of the sofa. Severus attempted not to show his pain as Harry seemed to have a need to reassure himself that Severus was, indeed, going to be fine.

"Severus…what happened?" This time it was Lupin who spoke.

"It was a Death Eater meeting not a ballroom dance," Severus spat. Why did people have to ask the obvious? "What do you think happened?"

"He…he hit you with a Crucio, didn't he? That doesn't sound 'fine' to me," Harry said in alarm.

"It wasn't the Cruciatus that put me in this shape," Severus explained to Harry as he absently patted his son's hand. "The Dark Lord was not fixated on me. It was my own stupidity for Apparating three times after being subjected to the blasted curse that put me in this state."

"Severus, if you have put yourself at such risk to avoid surveillance, then perhaps you should debrief as soon as possible," the Headmaster interjected.

"Albus," said Arthur in protest. "Severus really should be getting…"

"No, the Headmaster is correct. It was my intention to do exactly that," Severus attempted to push himself off the hard sofa but instead, he nearly collapsed again as Harry and Mr Weasley caught him.

"Perhaps we could debrief here, Headmaster?" Severus said through his embarrassment.

"A prudent course of action under the circumstances," agreed Albus. "Now if the rest of you would be so kind as to excuse us."

The adult wizards in the room looked around at each other and began to reluctantly leave the room. Black lingered behind and waited at the door for Harry.

Harry was hesitant to leave and Severus found solace in his son's support. Severus gave Harry the most encouraging glance that he could manage, hoping that the boy would see that he would be okay.

Harry looked to Severus one last time. Black shot Severus one glance that was mixed with weariness and unadulterated hate before he quietly shut the door behind them. As far as Severus was concerned, the mutt should be thankful that Harry did not see it.

Step by step, Severus gave Albus meticulous detail of his meeting with the Dark Lord and the intention behind the use of the dark potion. Severus also told Albus the suffering that Lucius had been subjected to.

"Lucius was the one who discovered the potion, Headmaster," Severus said as impassively as he could…continuing with his debriefing. "I have no doubt that his curiosity would have gotten the better of him and he would have read over the instructions. He is as capable of reading ancient Latin as I am. He knows the significance of the Dark Lord's request, yet is too fearful to divulge this information to anyone else."

Albus nodded gravely. "Lucius Malfoy has always coveted power and he has participated in some despicable acts against Muggles and Muggle-borns, but I also know he would never willingly sacrifice his son to Tom.

"What can be done?" Albus suddenly asked. "If anyone knows our options in concern to Voldemort, it is you, Severus."

Severus flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name then shook his head. "I'm not certain that anything can be done. If Malfoy does not present Draco, The Dark Lord will Imperious Lucius to kill his entire family. I have seen it done before. The Dark Lord can implement the curse through his Mark. Either way, if we do nothing, Draco is dead…as well as Narcissa. There is nowhere Lucius can hide."

"Thank Merlin that you are amongst the fortunate few who are impervious to that particular Unforgivable," breathed Albus in relief. "But unfortunately that will be of little help to young Mr Malfoy," he lamented.

An insane epiphany struck Severus. "Perhaps there is a way." It was nearly impossible for him to contain his excitement as he said, "I convince Lucius to ally with us!"

"Severus…do you think you can?"

"I am almost certain of it." Severus was suddenly thankful for the pain in his abused body. Otherwise he feared he would be bouncing on the sofa like a giddy first-year. "Lucius may be a cold and distant parent, but he'd take on a rabid werewolf to protect his son!"

Albus' face slowly became sceptical and he asked doubtfully, "Then what, Severus…If Voldemort can curse Lucius through his Mark, what does he have to gain by joining us?"

Severus answered with a sly grin, "I will teach him Occlumency."

The ramifications of such an alliance had possibilities that even Albus was not aware of.

For the first time ever, Severus was staying overnight at Grimmauld Place. Neither he nor Sirius were happy with the situation. But as Severus was still too weak to travel, there was nothing to be done for it.

Harry was thankful though. Severus was home and though he wasn't in the best of shape, he was still well enough to bat his snark about like a well-aimed Bludger. Thankfully, it wasn't too sharp and wasn't aimed at Harry.

Harry was sharing his room with Severus. It was 1:30 a.m. Friday morning. The Headmaster had finally left and Severus (much to his very vocal protest) was helped to bed by Mr Weasley and Remus. Harry had to admit…his father could be rather…colourful when he was in a foul mood.

Harry couldn't help but giggle as he remembered the rather imaginative curses Severus had threatened the men with, and how exasperated Severus was when Remus and Mr Weasley never took the first one seriously.

Mrs Weasley offered Severus one of her own Pain Draughts, but the Potion's Master steadfastly refused. He told Mrs Weasley it was because the Headmaster would be returning in the morning with a specialised elixir that would not be effective if taken so soon after a standard Pain Draught, but Harry suspected that his father would simply not take a potion brewed by another's hand.

Much to Ron's chagrin, he had been moved in temporarily with Fred and George. One of their beds had been transfigured into a bunk so to make room for their younger brother. To be honest, twins weren't very happy with the arrangement either. Poor Ron was probably going to be keeping one open eye open all night.

Though Remus and Mr Weasley had left a while ago, Harry could tell by the rhythm of the disembodied breaths coming from the opposite side of the room, that Severus was still awake.

"Do you find something amusing, Harry?"

"Umm…no, sir...well yes, sir," Harry quickly amended then lied, "I was just remembering a joke that the twins told me earlier."

Through the blackness, his father's velvet baritone said, "Contrary to popular belief, I do enjoy the occasional humorous anecdote…would you care to share?"

Oh shite!

Now what? Harry's brain just froze and he couldn't think of a single joke. He was about to be caught in a lie. Granted…it was a little white lie, but Harry wasn't certain if Severus would see it that way.

"Umm…I'd rather not," Harry said sheepishly a he stared up into the inky blackness. "It was a little…well, you know."

There…that would just make it seem as if Harry were too embarrassed to repeat it in front of his father.

"Hmm…I see," Severus said pensively from across the room. "Perhaps I should have a talk with their mother about her children's blue humour. I can't allow them to corrupt my only son. Now can I?"

"No! Don't do that!" Harry said, panicked.

"Why ever not?"

Wait a second…Severus' voice came across a tad too innocent. His father was taking the micky out of him! He just knew it. But what was Harry to say?

"No really," Harry said nervously. "I don't want to get them in trouble…please don't involve Mrs Weasley."

From out of the darkness, Harry heard a low chuckle. It couldn't possibly bode well. "Perhaps not, I'm certain I could find a few extra points to deduct from the Demonic Duo during the course of the term."

"Demonic Duo?" Harry said unbelievingly, almost choking on the bad joke. "You call me and my friends the 'Golden Trio'. Where do you come up with these names?"

"Divine inspiration," Severus said sardonically.

Rather than keep on the subject and possibly dig himself deeper, Harry changed topics to something that had been haunting him since his father's return. "Severus…are you certain you're okay? I mean…how bad did he really hurt you?"

There was a moment of awkward silence. Harry heard Severus clear his throat before he answered, "Well…a Cruciatus isn't exactly the same as a Rictumsempra, now is it?" Harry could definitely relate to that. He noticed that Severus' answer lacked the hard bite that it would have had in the past. "But as I said earlier…his wrath wasn't focused on me. If the Headmaster thinks to bring my potion tomorrow, I will be recovered in no time…if not, I will simply be sore and cranky over the next few days, but I will recover nonetheless."

Cranky? Well that wasn't good. "Let's just hope the Headmaster brings that potion, then."

Severus scoffed again and said, "Indeed."

Staring up into the darkness from his bed, Harry asked nervously, "Um…Severus?"

"Yes, Harry," Severus answered wearily.

"How long are we going to be here? All of my clothes were left at Hogwarts." Now Harry felt stupid for bringing it up. It was obvious that Severus was ready for sleep and Harry had already been talking the man's ear off for the past half-hour.

"I'm sure we can make time to stop at Diagon Alley sometime in the afternoon." Though tired, Harry could tell that Severus was striving to remain uncharacteristically patient.

Harry was caught off guard by the statement. "No... That's okay. I can just wear what I have until we get back to Hogwarts. I can do a Freshening Charm on them."

"No you won't. You are out growing any decent clothing you had and I will not have my son traipsing about in those...those rags that Petunia forced upon you."

Harry knew he was blushing in the dark as he could feel his face warm when Severus called him 'son'. It was nice have an adult who cared, but Harry still had to be sensible. "But you can't escort me to Diagon Alley. We can't be seen together."

It may have been dark, but Harry could still hear the slight humour in his father's voice. "I am a Potion's Master, Harry."

"Oh yeah…but you don't have time to brew Polyjuice Potion," said Harry as he was half thinking to himself.

Harry could hear a low chuckle come from his father's direction again. It startled Harry. The Potion's Master was definitely chuckling…almost laughing. Harry would have never thought Severus Snape was capable of such sounds before this summer. He found his father's soft laugh rather warm. It was so odd...the dual natures of Severus Snape.

"It seems that you have already forgotten that I am also a spy."

"Oh yeah," Harry could feel his own smile creep across his face. Of course Severus would keep a supply.

Now Severus began to muse aloud to himself. "Perhaps I should also make a quick stop over at the estate sometime tomorrow evening…To give the house elves time to prepare for our arrival Saturday.

Harry sat up in bed. "We're going to the estate!" Now he was going to be too excited to go to sleep.

"Yes…I told you we would."

"Yeah…but I just didn't realise it would be so soon," Harry said. "Uh…can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can Harry…I can't poke you in the eye for asking a question… now can I?"

Harry gave a good natured scoff. "You might have a couple weeks ago," he said cheekily, but he soon adapted a contrite demeanour. He really wanted Severus to say 'yes.'

"May I invite my friends over…at least for one day? It would do them all good to get out of this gloomy house for a while," Harry pleaded.

He could hear Severus emit a heavy sigh from across the room. "I cannot say that I relish a pack of rabid teenagers running amuck in my home. But it is your home now, as well. Outside of any Death Eaters, I suppose you may invite whomever you wish."

My Home?

"Honestly… I can invite them?" Harry couldn't believe his ears. Harry never really had a place he could call home before. Yes, he would often tell people that Hogwarts was his home, but that wasn't really the case no matter how hard he had wished it to be...and Severus would allow Harry's friends to visit. Harry had always wanted a place of his own where he could invite his friends. It was a gesture with enormous implications and Harry knew it.

"Yes…Honestly," Severus added a bit of his own cheek and breaking Harry's chain of thought. Severus then cleared his throat and asked on a more serious note. "Now…do you need help clearing your mind tonight?"

"No…I think I can do it myself tonight, thank you."

It was true. Just having Severus back and talking to him so casually had done wonders for Harry…more than any mind-magic could ever do.

Severus hesitated, as if thinking on it before he said, "Very good, then I think it's time we bid each other good night, Harry"

"Good night..." there was a pregnant pause for a moment before Harry said, "Severus." The word was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't bring himself to say it just yet.

Severus Snape awoke early that morning. Unlike his son, he was not a 'lie-a-bed'. After a decade and a half of teaching, it had become habit for him to awaken early… like it or not. It was like his body had developed its own internal alarm clock. But it was not Severus' habitual early nature that awoke him so early this morning, nor was it his desire to get to the shower before the gang of Weasley kits descended upon it.

No, an almost natural… nay… near feral instinct awoke Severus this morning, despite the lingering pain from the horrific night before. Struggling to fight against it, so he could have a few more minutes of blissful sleep, Severus could not resist the primitive temptation any longer.

Bacon?

Severus gingerly sat up. He scanned his alien surroundings. Oh, yes…he was in Black's den.

The unfamiliar smell of morning cooking was obviously the Weasley matriarch preparing breakfast for the residents of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

Severus was accustomed to the Hogwarts house-elves 'popping' meals directly onto serving platters. He could not remember the last time he had a home cooked breakfast. Although Severus tried to convince himself that he was indifferent as to who prepared his morning meal, his stomach was telling him otherwise.

Slowly, Severus stretched and he gingerly lifted his legs and positioned them over the side of the bed.

He had to lean back on his arms for support. Looking down at his attire Severus groaned as he vaguely remembered Weasley and Lupin preparing him for bed against his very rabid protests.

How humiliating... Weasley had rudely transfigured his robes into pyjamas whilst Lupin unceremoniously yanked off his boots. Why… they even had the audacity to ignore Severus' threats of hexing off their manhood if they continued to violate his person. Honestly…the nerve of some wizards!

It was then, that Severus heard a light snoring from the other side of the room, looked over and saw the sleeping form of his son.

Well…he could not actually see Harry. The only part of the boy that was truly recognisable amongst the heap of pillows and wadded blankets was a skinny leg that hung out down the side of the bed and a mop of raven hair that sprouted out from under the duvet cover. Severus could only assume that it was Harry who was cocooned somewhere underneath the mass of bedding that seemed to breathe of its own volition.

Severus' lip curled in a satisfied smile as he then looked down on the floor for his boots. He saw the tips of them peeking out from under the edge of the bed. Severus tentatively bent over to retrieve them then abruptly stopped and grabbed the small of his back as it creaked in protest.

"Damn," Severus muttered under his breath. It was fortunate that he had already decided that his days as a spy were soon coming to an end. He was not certain how much more his body could take. Severus was only thirty-five but he looked much older than his contemporaries. His body certainly protested like an old man's.

Fuelled by a surge of frustration, Severus wandlessly summoned his boots and smartly transfigured them into house slippers.

With his feet now adequately clad, he arose from his bed and slowly walked over to Harry's, against the protests of his aching knees. Upon reaching the side of Harry's bed he grasped the bedpost for support and looked at the swaddled form of his son. He reached out and brushed the fringe away from Harry's eye.

Severus nearly pulled his hand away when he realised what he was doing, but then, he gave himself into his new instinct and allowed his hand to gently come to rest atop his son's head.

Severus honestly thought he was touching Harry light enough, that Harry would never respond to the sensation…or on the off-chance Severus' actions did register, the boy would simply recoil. But then a miracle happened. Much to Severus' astonishment, Harry unconsciously leaned into his father's touch.

All at once, it seemed as if the earth began to move. In his rational mind, he knew Harry was his son and he wanted to rekindle…no… rekindle wasn't the right word. In order to rekindle something you had to have it to begin with. He wanted to spark a relationship with his son.

Albus had been correct…once Severus had felt the undeniable pull of his paternal instinct, he couldn't fight it …he had become a slave to it. But Severus found that he did not mind it at all.

After he showered and dressed, Severus made his way to the kitchen. He stopped just short of the kitchen door when he had to shield his eyes from the dazzling glare that assaulted them.

"Merlin, Old Man! Must you so early in the morning?" Severus protested, giving his eyes a chance to adjust.

Sitting in the kitchen before Severus, was Albus Dumbledore in all of his brilliant glory. Clad in robes of iridescent green trimmed in gold. If it had not been the second week of August, Severus would swear that his Headmaster resembled a gigantic Christmas bobble.

"Severus…stop being so overdramatic," Albus chuckled. "Your potions…as promised," he said as he pulled the phials from the depths of his robe pockets and offered them to Severus. It was a formulation of Severus' own making specifically used to counteract the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

Severus snatched the phials from Albus' hand and sat down at the table. Without further delay, he popped open the stopper of one of them and tossed it back like a shot. He closed his eyes and let the sweet-relief wrap around his body like a warm blanket.

Molly brought him a cup of strong black coffee and he nodded his thanks to her. "I'd thank you Albus…" Severus said heavily as the potion continued to make its way through his veins,"…but you neglected to bring me a cure for the holes you just burned through my retinas."

Albus had ignored the insult. Severus was certain, though Albus would never admit it, that the Headmaster often wore such garish colours just to annoy his Potion's Master.

Now he was feeling more like himself, Severus inquired, "Why are you here so early, Albus? I honestly thought I was going to have to suffer until after breakfast."

"I find some pressing issues that require my attention and I must see Minerva so that she may attend matters at the castle in my absence," Dumbledore informed him. "But first, I thought I should leave you with a bit of surprising news and if you would be so kind as to relay it informally to our members here at headquarters, we will discuss the full ramifications upon the next Order meeting."

There was a moments silence as Severus waited for Albus to impart his wonderful news. Obviously the old wizard was waiting for Severus to ask.

And Albus accused Severus of being over-dramatic.

"Well…are you going to tell me or are you going to wait for the swallows to return to Capistrano?" Severus finally said in exasperation.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Albus looked as if he almost forgotten the conversation. "Oh…yes," he said, smiling as he put down his coffee cup. "As you recall, Cornelius unexpectedly dropped the charges against Harry last week."

"Yes…That did come as a bit of a surprise," Mrs Weasley chimed in as she laid a warm scone and a dish of clotted cream in front of the Headmaster.

Severus turned back to his coffee. Firstly, he had no desire to see Dumbledore's cheerful disposition so firmly planted on his face this early in the morning, and secondly…he detested clotted cream and did not want to be thrown off his own breakfast he so eagerly awaited.

Severus took another sip of his strong black coffee and said, "As unexpected as that was, I thought that little episode was behind us now. Please tell me he didn't come up with another trumped-up charge against Harry," he added bitterly.

"Quite the contrary," Albus said cheerfully. "It seems that the Minister is about to come under investigation himself.

Severus sputtered as he struggled to keep down his coffee and repeat his embarrassing episode in the Headmaster's office the other week. "What? Why?"

Albus gave a mischievous grin that could match Snape at his most devious. "It would seem that Madam Bones has become aware of the Dementor attack on Harry and his cousin earlier this summer. This has led to some rather uncomfortable questions…Such as 'why did Dementors…creatures that are supposed to be under the Ministry's strict control… leave Azkaban and attack an underage wizard and a Muggle boy in Surrey?"

Severus returned the Headmaster's mischievous grin. "Albus…that news was worth going blind over…but do tell…How did Madam Bones come to learn of this well-kept secret? How far do you think this inquiry will go?"

"I'm happy to see that I can make up for my offences Severus. Suffice it to say…a little bird whispered in her ear," Albus said mysteriously as he gave an almost indiscernible wink and arose from his chair, "and as to how far… there are whispers of a possible vote of 'No Confidence' against the Minister… And when I return, you and I must discuss your proposal from last night. I do find it…intriguing, to say the least," Albus said in a complete turn-around of the subject.

But Severus didn't think about his plan to sway Malfoy at that moment. He let the significance of Dumbledore's news sink in.

A No Confidence vote? There was more to this than questioning an expulsion hearing for a student. It was quite possible that there was a silent minority in the Ministry that believed Harry and the Headmaster's claims that the Dark Lord had returned and they were taking advantage of Fudge's latest muck-up to get to the truth.

This could possibly mean a new MoM. If the right person could get in the Minister's office…such as Kingsley Shacklebolt or even Madam Bones herself…then it could change everything. If the Dark Lord could be thwarted before he had a chance to build his Army and centralise his power…Yes…this could change everything.

Turning back to the other topic of conversation and fighting back a satisfied smirk, Severus asked Albus, "When will you return?"

Molly then placed a plate of sunny eggs, streaky bacon with grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, and Bubble and Squeak in front of Severus. The only thing it lacked for a full breakfast was the baked beans, but there were no complaints from Severus in that department. Baked beans gave him terrible indigestion.

Severus normally did not eat such a heavy breakfast, but one of the side-effects of the elixir was, it seemed to always give him a ravenous appetite. The savoury smells that wafted through the kitchen did nothing to help, either. He had no idea how Molly Weasley could possibly know this, but Severus had his suspicions that it had something to do with Albus' 'little bird'.

Severus stabbed into a grilled tomato and engulfed it in one swallow…thankful that there was no one else besides Mrs Weasley and Albus to see his table manners digress to the level of a calorically-challenged teenaged boy. Ronald Weasley, Crabbe and Goyle came to mind.

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," Severus said in a rare voice of sincerity. At least he remembered not to talk with his mouth full.

"Honestly, Severus," the matriarch chuckled, "after all of these years, you can call me Molly."

Severus managed to swallow, but just barely. It was beyond him why his fellow Order members addressed him by his given name when he had not given them leave to do so. It was a battle he had given up on long ago, but if they thought Severus was about return the gesture, they all had another think coming.

Mrs Weasley did whip up a hell of a breakfast…but not that good. He already thanked her. What did she want…sonnets?

It was obvious that Albus was amused by the younger wizard's discomfort. But Severus just rolled his eyes and tucked back into his plate. Albus finally answered Severus' question. "I expect that I should be back by mid-week."

About time.

"Then you may contact me at the manor," Severus said as he slathered marmalade over his toast. "If Harry and I are not there then we will most likely be at the cottage, in which case you may leave word with Cassie. She will assure that I receive your message."

"Very good…is there anything else that we need to discuss before I become scarce?"

Severus wiped his mouth with his serviette. He rolled his eyes slightly, but this time, it was because he had just managed to take a bite of Mrs Weasley's lovely bacon. Perhaps this did warrant a bit more familiarity with the witch. Would it really kill him to call her 'Molly'?

Severus swallowed and said, "Yes…as a matter of fact there is. What if I receive a summons or the opportunity to speak with a certain someone arises before your return?"

Severus did not think either a summons or a legitimate excuse to speak with Lucius Malfoy would present itself within the next few days, but one never knew.

"I trust your judgment Severus. Do what you think is best." With that, Albus turned to Mrs Weasley and said, "Thank you, Molly, for your hospitality."

"Oh Albus…there is nothing to thank," Mrs Weasley blushed. "Do take care of yourself. It's a shame you won't be here for Ginny's birthday party tomorrow."

"My apologies, Molly, please give my regards to Ginevra, but my business is pressing. And not to worry, I have not managed to live these one-hundred-fourteen years without taking care."

As Harry rounded the next flight of stairs, he noticed that the Headmaster was there, his thin body pressed against the wall as a thunderous herd of ravenous teenagers made their way past.

"Good Morning Headmaster," chimed Hermione and Ginny as they skipped down the stairs.

"MornHeadmaster," Ron managed in a rushed greeting as he rudely pushed his way past the girls. Ron knew if he wanted the biggest kippers, he had to get there before the twins.

"Good Morning…"
"…Professor Dumbledore," chorused Fred and George as they slid down the banister, passing their younger brother. They could have easily Apparated into the kitchen, but if the tongue lashing their mum gave them for 'whipping out their wands,' last time Harry was there was any indication; he could see how the banister was a preferred mode of transportation.

Harry was taking up the rear and he stopped when the Headmaster met his eyes. "Professor Dumbledore…I thought you wouldn't be here until after breakfast."

Seeing that there were no other teenagers to run him down, the Headmaster stepped out from the wall and said, "There are some matters that I must attend to, Harry. It was simply more convenient to stop by now."

Harry simply nodded his understanding. He was about to continue his way to the kitchen, but he paused when he heard Dumbledore address someone behind him.

"Sirius…Professor Lupin. Good morning."

Harry had to stop. Did he hear right? Professor?

"Good morning, Albus," Remus said genially. From the tone of Remus' voice and the scowl on Sirius' face, it was obvious that Remus was in a more congenial mood than his friend.

The Headmaster met Sirius' gaze. When Sirius did not so much as offer up his 'good morning,' the Headmaster simply shook his head sadly and disappeared into the sitting room.

Harry's godfather looked as if he would never have a good morning again. One would almost think Sirius Black had switched bodies with Severus Snape...Almost. Unlike Harry's godfather, Severus Snape couldn't be thought of as jovial on his best days.

Harry's eyes followed his godfather and "Professor?" as they descended the stairs. After realising he was being left behind, Harry hurried to catch up with them.

"Remus…did the Headmaster just call you 'Professor'?"

From where he was behind Remus, Harry had just caught a glimpse of the older man's facial muscles forming a smile. "Shush, Harry," Remus whispered as he turned and clasped his young friend on the shoulder then led him down the stairs. "Let me tell it to everyone…After all, it is my surprise."

"Right," Harry gave a grin at their little conspiracy.

Harry noticed the Sirius had stopped at the foot of the stairs. He couldn't understand why Sirius looked as though he just lost his favourite broomstick or something. Sirius had led Harry to believe that he at least understood everything last night.

"Sirius…Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Harry," Sirius said. However, Harry wasn't convinced of it.

But Harry had to let it go at that. They were in direct sight of almost everyone in the kitchen.

Strangely, Harry didn't have to worry about being watched by the entire household. That honour went to his poor-unfortunate father. Harry had to stifle his giggle. Honestly…it's not as if they had never seen the man eat before. They had more meals before the Snape in Hogwarts' Great Hall than they did with their own parents, but the way his friends were staring at the Potion's Master, it was as if they were surprised that their stern professor even lowered himself to something as mundane and ordinary as eating. Every one of Harry's friends was gawking at Severus. Harry thought it a miracle in itself that their forks had found their ways into their mouths.

It was a good thing that Severus had already mostly finished his plate. For all the adolescent eyes fixed on him, it seemed to Harry as if his father had been put-off his food.

Actually, Severus was the only one to notice Harry enter with Sirius and Remus. Mrs Weasley was busy at the stove. She almost startled when she found the three still standing at the door.

"Sirius…Remus…coffee?" Mrs Weasley offered.

"Yes…lovely, Molly," said Remus happily as he took his usual chair and scooted himself up to the table.

"You're in a chipper mood today," Mrs Weasley said as she poured a cuppa for Remus.

"I have some good news to share," Remus said cheerfully, but his countenance dropped as soon as Sirius glumly took his seat at the head of the table.

Sirius' stern grey eyes were fixed on Severus and Harry's father locked is obsidian glare in kind.

Harry had yet to sit down, but all eyes were on Severus and Sirius. The tension in the room was tight enough to walk across the Channel. The hatred between the two wizards was palpable.

Severus was the first to break eye contact when his gaze moved from Sirius to Harry.

Mrs Weasley broke the tension in the room when she softly said, "Harry dear—why don't you take a seat, hmm?"

Harry could not help but notice that his father was sitting alone on the farthest end of the table, just to the left of where Mr Weasley normally sat opposite of Sirius. The seat next to his father was empty—just as was the seat just to the right of Sirius.

Now Sirius turned to Harry. He reached up and gently placed a hand on Harry's arm. His unasked question was not very well hidden behind his eyes.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Coffee?"

"Oh …sorry Molly, of course," Sirius managed to say with a half-smile.

Harry had still not yet moved. He was at a loss because he did not wish to hurt either man. Not very long ago he wouldn't have believed that anything could hurt Severus Snape. Now he knew exactly how wrong that thinking was.

But Harry was not just spending the rest of the day with his father, but the rest of the summer, along with the school year. There was no telling when Sirius would have a chance to see Harry again.

Harry gave his father a pleading look. He really didn't know what to do. Severus nodded his understanding. He drank down the last of his coffee, wiped the corner of his mouth with his serviette, and calmly laid it on his almost empty plate.

Severus stood, and with an almost formal bow of his head, he said silkily, "Thank you…Molly. It was a lovely breakfast."

After the initial shock wore off throughout the room, Mrs Weasley blushed almost the same shade as her fiery hair and her children giggled like a pack of hyenas.

Harry gave his father a grateful smile, but he still felt guilty as he took his chair next to Sirius. He was pretty sure the only reason Severus was leaving was so Harry didn't have to choose between his father and godfather. Granted…Severus was finished with his breakfast and Harry would be spending the rest of the day…not to mention the rest of the summer and the school term with his father, but he didn't think it was right if Severus had to leave every time Sirius stepped into the room, just so Harry wouldn't become uncomfortable.

Sirius' face looked triumphant as Harry sat down next to him, but it faded slightly as he noticed the thankful look Harry was still giving Severus. It seemed to upset Sirius even more that Severus didn't look a bit put-out. Come to think of it…Harry didn't know what to think about his father's apparent lack of concern. Did he really just not care? Or was he hiding his hurt behind his Occlumency?

"I see that Arthur has already left for work, Molly," Remus said in an effort to break the tension once again.

"Yes…he wanted an early start so he could leave early. He has some business in London this evening." Mrs Weasley said quickly as her eyes cut over to Ginny towards the middle of the table. Harry guessed Mr Weasley was probably going to Diagon Alley for Ginny's birthday present after he left work.

That was right. Tomorrow was Ginny's birthday. Severus was allowing Harry to spend the afternoon at the party then they would Apparate to the estate's cottage later in the evening. Harry would have to remind Severus while they were out and about Diagon Alley that they needed to pick up a gift.

The next day would have been Harry's expulsion hearing. Not having that 800 Ton dragon on his shoulders anymore was a huge relief.

As Harry reached across for the platter of scrambled eggs, he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He looked up to meet his father's black gaze. It was no longer the cold and bottomless glare he had become accustomed to over the past four years, but instead, there was warmth that Harry was quickly becoming used to.

"Harry…I will need to gather your things from the school so the house-elves can settle you in at the cottage," Severus said. "You may accompany me or if you would rather…I can do it myself so you can spend the remaining time with your godfather."

Harry knew if he looked like the rest of the household, he was absolutely gobsmacked. Imagine…Severus Snape being magnanimous towards Sirius Black? What next…Voldemort passing out flowers to Muggles? Though Severus' face revealed nothing, Harry could tell by the ever so slight inflection in his father's voice that it was a difficult offer for him to make.

"Is it alright?" asked Harry, not wanting to give the wrong answer. He didn't want to hurt his father...but this could be the last time he saw Sirius for a while.

"If it was not 'alright'," Severus said with a slight bit of his familiar sarcasm. "I would not have made the offer to begin with, Harry."

Harry recognized the remark as some of his father's better natured snark, and decided it was okay to take advantage of his father's generosity. "Oh…okay…I guess I'll stay here for now."

"Very well, I will pick you up after lunch. We'll Floo to Diagon Alley from here," Severus said. "Oh, and Lupin…if you would snap out of your stupor for just a moment, I have something that I need to ask of you... the return of a favour…as it were."

Looking across the table at Remus, Harry was having a hard time chewing and smiling at the same time. Remus was giving a rather passable imitation of a cod fish. But then again…so was everyone else.

"Oh Severus-Do you mind if we accompany you this afternoon?" piqued Mrs Weasley. "I still need to buy books for this lot."

From the look on Severus' face, it was obvious to Harry that he did mind. It didn't surprise Harry in the least. Severus still wasn't keen on company.

Harry wistfully wondered if his father wanted to recapture some lost time. Had the world have been—the way it should have been, Severus would have accompanied Harry during his first shopping trip for school instead of Hagrid…almost like a rite of passage.

"Of course…Molly" Severus said tight-lipped. "We can discuss the details when I get back."

Severus nodded, giving his leave and then turned back to Remus. "Lupin?"

"Right behind you, Severus"

Harry blinked dumbly as his father ascended the staircase with Remus. Twice in as many minutes, Severus Snape had put the considerations of Harry's friends before his own.

Surely, Voldemort was in Hyde Park right now, passing out those flowers to Muggles.

With Severus gone, the atmosphere in the house lightened considerably. But as everyone returned to their breakfast, not a single person could believe what they had witnessed. If they even dared to repeat it to anyone, they would surely be locked up in the Mind Healer's ward at St. Mungo's right next to Lockhart.

Harry Potter and Severus Snape had a civil and amicable conversation.

And the witnesses were still alive.

Lunch was now over and the teens residing at Grimmauld Place… plus a temporarily adolescently regressed Sirius Black… were now gathered in a circle in the sitting room floor playing a rather lively game of Exploding Snap. Remus was sitting at a writing desk in the corner, jotting down a list.

For the first time since the Weasley's came to reside at the Order's Headquarters, the mood had been light. Not only was Harry not facing expulsion, Remus was returning to Hogwarts as the DADA Professor. A prospect which had the children both excited and relieved.

Remus said he had told Professor Snape about his new appointment and Severus had relayed Dumbledore's message about the upcoming turmoil at the Ministry. Things just weren't looking good for the Minister of Magic. Not only did it look as though he had abused his power in an effort to discredit Harry and Dumbledore…he was trying to take his poison inside the school.

Apparently, Minister Fudge was going to try to infiltrate the school by appointing one of his own operatives. Remus said that the Board of Governors had enough and had put their collective 'foot' down to this.

After glimpsing the resume of Fudge's recommendation, the Board was keenly aware that the Minister was trying to supplant their authority. If Fudge had an ounce of grey matter in his brain, he would have at least recommended a qualified applicant.

The Board was outraged when they saw Delores Umbridge's proposed curriculum.

No magic!

Hogwarts was a school of witchcraft and wizardry, for Merlin's sake. What were they going to teach for defence? Muggle boxing... Karate, perhaps?

Yes…after seeing the Minister's idea of a suitable DADA Professor, the Board was more than happy to reconsider a werewolf. After all…the tenure of Remus Lupin had seen the highest O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores since the retirement of Galatea Merrythought. Since Lucius Malfoy had been ousted from the Board, the Ministry's had lost their most vocal ally as well as the Board's most bigoted Pure-blood advocate. As long as Albus assured them that Remus' condition was under now control, the Board was happy to acquiesce to Albus' recommendation…anything to get a qualified DADA instructor without involving Ministry entanglements. Despite what Remus had said at the end of third year, it seemed as if no one on the Board had any recollection of the werewolf incident, nor was there any record of it.

Funny that.

Oh… the Minister was not happy, but the Board did not give a rat's arse, frankly. Hogwarts was a private institution; the Board of Governors hires whom they bloody well please and they wanted no 'help' from the Ministry. If a parent did not like it, well, they didn't have to send their child, now did they?

BANG!

A cloud of smoke and a plume of ashes marked Ron's victory. "I'm out!"

Harry and Sirius were in the middle of a coughing fit while Hermione and Ginny were trying to wave the smoke away.

"Alright, Ronniekins..." said Fred.
"...To the victor go the spoils," chimed in George sliding a mound of the waged sweets to their little brother.

Ron had too much experience with his twin brothers. He knew better than to take anything they willingly offered.

Ron was about to refuse the sweets when the Floo came to life and Severus Snape majestically stepped through. Like the man or not…the wizard knew how to make an entrance.

However, that impressive entrance was spoiled when Severus went into his own coughing fit. "Black… is burning down your own house your idea of 'having fun with the kids'?"

Standing up to meet Snape nose to nose, Sirius barked, "You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do with my godson in my home, Snape!"

"I can when he is my son, Black!" Severus spat back. "And I can forbid him from returning to your home until he comes of age, if I so wish!"

All of the teens with the exception of Harry and Hermione were enjoying the scene as it quickly descended into chaos. If they were lucky, maybe it would come to fisticuffs. But everyone's faces fell when Sirius leaned in as close as he could get Severus without kissing him on the nose, but Severus never backed down despite the invasion of his personal space.

It would have otherwise looked comical if Sirius had not growled under his breath, "I don't know what cock-n-bullshite story you gave to Dumbledore and Harry. But if you think I will for one second believe that Lily sl…"

"Sirius!"

Severus took a step back, his hands were at his sides but his fists were clinched to the point his fingernails dug into his palms. He looked absolutely livid and there was no denying it was taking every bit of self-control he had to keep from flying in a rage at Sirius. Wands be damned.

Sirius quickly turned to Remus and snarled, "What!"

"The children!"

Sirius spun around, and his enraged face sobered in less time than it took to inhale. All eyes were on him. But it was obvious that the stricken look on Harry's face drove a nail straight into his heart.

Harry walked over to Sirius and looked into his godfather's dull grey eyes. "You promised," he said defeated, and then turned to his father. "You both promised."

Both men at least had the good grace and common sense to look appropriately chastised and both gave Harry a heartfelt apology. The fact that they had both done this in front of a room full of people spoke volumes. But if nothing, it was appropriate. After all, they had chosen to argue in front of a room full of people.

Harry wondered to himself how this was ever going to work. Sirius was definitely going to have to get used to Severus' sense of humour. Unfortunately, it was difficult to tell when Severus was giving a light-hearted jab or a full blown insult. To be honest…Harry wasn't sure which the offending statement had been.

Fortunately, before the situation could digress any further, the Floo came to life again. This time Tonks and Bill Weasley stepped out. Bill had to catch the graceless witch before she fell head first into Severus.

"Bill!"

A pack of red heads descended upon their oldest brother. "Back off, you pack of Hellhounds! …Give a bloke a chance to step into the room," he chided his younger siblings. "We're here, Professor."

"No need to state the obvious, Mr Weasley," said Severus as he turned from Sirius and Harry to acknowledge the new arrivals. "But thank you for your expediency, nonetheless."

"Not a problem," Bill said. "You and Mum are going to have your hands full with this lot, anyway."

Harry ignored Ginny's protests to her older brother as he threw her over his shoulder like a gunny-sack of potatoes.

Sirius whispered sullenly into Harry's ear, "I'll take this as my leave, Harry…if you need anything," he said, pointedly looking at Severus, "I'm only a Floo away."

Harry watched as his godfather left to sulk wherever it was he went to sulk in the Dark house. Honestly, Harry couldn't care less anymore. He was tired of Sirius' attitude and if his godfather refused to come to terms with Harry's relationship with Severus Snape, the Sirius Black was in serious danger of losing his godson. Harry was about to go on an outing with his father and his friends and if his godfather couldn't be happy for him…well…he could just sod-off! Harry wasn't about to let anyone spoil this day.

Once Sirius was gone, Harry's attention was caught by the banter of his friends.

"Oh hush, and let's go find Mum," Bill said as he ignored Ginny's pleas and carried his little sister out of the room as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

"Are you and Bill coming with us, Tonks?" Hermione asked excitingly.

"Hmm…Oh yes," Tonks said as she snapped out of her daydreaming. Harry grinned because he noticed she had been staring at Remus over in the corner."

"Well. Is everybody ready?" Mrs Weasley asked, clasping her carefully mended traveling cloak as she entered the room with Bill and Ginny in tow.

"Just a couple of minutes, Molly," Remus said before he turned to Harry's father and said, "Severus?"

As Remus and Severus walked out of the room, Hogwarts' newest professor started to explain the parchment in his hands to the Potion's Master. "This is an extension of credit signed by the Headmaster and a list of all that I require…," then they went up the stairs to where the bedrooms were.

That's odd.

The conversation in the room conspicuously stayed away from the confrontation between Severus and Sirius steered its way to what kind of spells Remus would be teaching them this year. Harry and his friends didn't even have a chance to speculate what Remus could possible want from Severus when Remus came back into the room.

Then 'Remus' came back in again.

"What's this?" Harry said as he stared in awe.

'Remus' the Second, stood at the entrance to the study, ramrod straight, with his arms crossed. One eyebrow shot up so high, it almost disappeared beneath 'Remus'' sandy fringe.

Harry could hear the supressed laughter behind him.

"You and Severus can't exactly be seen together in public, now can you?" Remus the First explained with an easy smile. "I'm a well-known associate of both Harry Potter and the Weasleys, and as I have to order my learner materials for the new term, it's perfectly natural that I would be seen shopping in Diagon Alley with you lot."

Remus and 'Remus' stood next to each other in the doorway. One had his hands in his robe pockets, casually leaning against the door jamb. The other still standing perfectly upright, arms crossed with a look that dared anyone to say anything.

Harry dared.

"You know Severus, if you're going to make this work," Harry said as is hands gestured about Severus' 'make-over', "You really need to lighten up."

Then, Harry actually had the audacity to laugh in his father's face.

Severus was happy to finally get out of the dark halls of Grimmauld Place once again. He decided to go ahead and take Harry home tonight. Black was obviously being totally unreasonable. Lupin had told Severus that Black did not even have the intention of attending the Weasley girl's party, choosing instead to sulk the day away in the master bedroom where he kept his fugitive hippogriff. (Why the hell would Black keep a hippogriff holed-up in a bedroom was beyond Severus. Why not just let the poor beast go?)When Severus asked why Black was staying away, Lupin simply said matter-of- factly that Black hated parties. Severus had no idea if that were true or not, but he cursed Black nonetheless.

No matter what Black's reasons were, Harry was certain to take Black's absence as a slight on him. There was no point in continuing to expose the boy to his stodgy godfather. It wasn't as if Harry wouldn't be seeing his friends again. Severus had already said the boy could invite his friends to the manor. If Harry wanted to commemorate the anniversary of Ms Weasley's birth then, no doubt the house-elves would be happy to arrange something.

Disguised as the accursed werewolf and wearing one of Lupin's least patched robes, Severus stepped out of the public access Floo at the Leaky Cauldron only to abruptly reach out and try to catch a tumbling Harry. The boy neglected to step out of the Floo fast enough. Thankfully, Severus had managed to right himself almost immediately and luckily for the boy, Bill Weasley was already there waiting.

"Whoa! Harry!" Weasley exclaimed as he grabbed Harry around the waist. "Careful there, kid!" he said as he released a blushing and embarrassed teen.

'Uh…thanks, Bill," Harry said as he dusted he ash from his robes. Harry looked both humiliated and envious as he watched Severus step gracefully out of the Floo. Even in the unfamiliar and less majestic form of Remus Lupin, Severus knew he made it look effortless.

"Why is it that I always come through these things looking like a bleeding sweep and you always look like you like you just stepped out of the other room?" Harry griped.

"Haven't you ever heard the moniker 'Awkward Teen'?" Severus said as he spelled the ash off of Harry. "…the operative word being 'Awkward'."

Harry gave Severus a rather odd look. Perhaps Severus Snape's sarcasm sounded too surreal coming from the lips of Remus Lupin.

Severus felt his upper lip curl as Harry said through ill-concealed good-nature, "Like I told you before, if you want to pass a Remus, you have to get rid of all the snark and snarl."

Severus tried to smile, but his efforts were only awarded with chuckles from Harry and the Weasley scion.

"Just leave the Professor be, Harry," Mr Weasley said. "If the closest he's going to get is that sneer, he's better off not trying it at all. We'll tell everyone that one of the twins hexed you with a Stone in the Shoe Curse, Professor."

"You will do nothing of the sort, Mr Weasley," Severus scowled as he began righting Harry's oversized shirt collar. Harry squirmed under Severus' ministrations. The bloody collar simply wouldn't lay down right and Severus finally gave up and just cast a shrinking spell on Harry's entire ensemble.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, more out of surprise than protest, from Severus' guess.

"I think a trip to Madam Malkin's first, should be in order," Severus said gruffly. "Where are the others, Mr Weasley?" he said before Harry could voice the question that was so very obvious on the tip of the boy's lips.

Severus saw his reflexion in a hanging wall mirror used so people could assure themselves that they were free of ash before greeting the public. He was tempted to have Lupin fitted for a new robe, but just as quickly decided against it. He had slipped Lupin's normally too-short robes on in private, before his transformation…as a courtesy to the werewolf's own privacy. Being fitted properly for a new wardrobe meant stripping down to the pants to try on various sizes and colours first. Severus had no desire what-so-ever to get to know Lupin that well. Plus, Severus would invariably choose black. With Lupin's sickly complexion, the werewolf would look more like the walking dead if he wore the dark colour …even in comparison to Severus.

Just as well that Severus stuck to buying the lycanthrope's school supplies.

"They stepped out into the back alley," Bill explained as the trio entered into the main dining room of the Leaky Cauldron. "The kids were beginning to niggle Mum for some fresh air."

They passed quickly through the dining room. Severus was glad that Harry looked half-way decent now that his clothes fit him better.

Fate was on their side, and the trio only warranted one or two second glances by the time they slipped into the back alley behind the inn. The Weasley's plus Ms Granger and Ms Tonks were all crowded onto the little platform, waiting for Harry and 'Remus' to arrive.

Harry went and stood to wait by his friends and Severus impatiently broke his way through the massed family. Fortunately, Severus' profession gave him a strong constitution as his senses were assaulted by the rancid-sweet odour of day old rubbish. He thought to himself that there had to be better places to find fresh air than on a rubbish dock.

'Remus' began to smartly tap out the sequence on the brick wall that opened the portal to Diagon Alley. "Ms Tonks," Ms Tonks snapped out of her apparent fantasy at the sound of 'Remus' biting tone. "If you continue to ogle me in such a manner…I won't hesitate to hex your eyes shut."

The looks of adoration the pink-haired Auror had favoured Severus…or rather 'Remus' with, had now changed to a deadly glare.

There was unison of snickers and guffaws as Ms Tonks blushed with embarrassment and her hair turned from lavender to hot pink. She said nothing out of fear of making an awkward situation worse.

"Don't worry Tonks…," smiled one of the Weasley doppelgangers as everybody filed into Diagon Ally.
"…We won't tell anybody that you have a crush on ole Snape," said the other.

Severus was all too familiar with their dubious tones. No doubt the twins intended to take the mickey out of the love-struck Auror. As long as the little demons didn't involve Severus they wouldn't have to live in fear of the Potion's Master condemning them to eternal damnat…erm…detention with Filch for the remainder of their school careers.

"Fred…George…leave Tonks alone or I'll drop your pants and tan your hides this very instant," threatened Molly.

Good for her, Severus thought. He was all too aware that if the twin's behaviour was not addressed now, they would become relentless. The boys knew that their mother was serious, thus, they immediately backed off; they were bound to find another outlet in which to raise havoc. Severus didn't care as long as their antics did not draw attention to himself or Harry.

"Se…'Remus' I know you mentioned about taking Harry to Madam Malkin's," said Molly as she rummaged through her handbag. "I need to make a withdrawal from Gringott's. Do you wish to meet at Flourish and Blott's in three hours?" She nodded to herself when she was certain her vault key was secure.

"That's fine, Molly," 'Remus' said as he tried to remember to make his language more casual. "We'll meet you at three-thirty."

"Do you want that I should tag along, Professor?" Bill offered. He knew better than to offer Ms Tonks' services. If her behaviour in front of 'Remus' was any indication, she wouldn't notice a Death Eater today unless one tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to dance. Severus wondered if Lupin had any clue as to the younger witch's infatuation. Frankly, Severus found it a bit disturbing. The witch was one of his students just a few years ago, for Merlin's sake. She only left Hogwarts the year before Harry arrived.

Severus appreciated Mr Weasley's offer but wanted nothing to do with any tag-a-longs. He would much rather spend this time alone with his son. Unfortunately, the additional security was a necessary precaution. It was the entire reason for bringing Mr Weasley and Ms Tonks along in the first place. "It won't be necessary to accompany us, Bill," 'Remus' said maintaining Lupin's familiarity. "But it would be wise to keep Harry in sight."

With that said, Bill Weasley disappeared into the crowd. Severus was impressed. It was amazing, really...Despite his height and his flaming red hair, the young man managed to disappear amongst the mass of humanity.

With plans made, the group broke up and the two families went their separate ways. Mr Weasley and Ms Granger were craning their necks back and waving goodbye to Harry as they followed the rest of the clan to Gringott's.

'Remus' and Harry began to stroll leisurely down the bustling alley. Normally Severus would have taken a much brisker and determined pace. But Harry was right; he would need to 'lighten up' if others were going to believe he was Remus Lupin.

"Is there something wrong, Harry?" 'Remus' asked as Harry watched his friends disappear amongst the shopping crowd.

"No…well yes, S…'Remus,'" Harry corrected quickly despite his current state of confusion. "Don't I need to go to the bank as well? I don't have any money on me."

It was a little disconcerting to Harry to see Remus' eyes look down at him with such irritation. He didn't look mean by any means. In fact, the same look on Severus Snape's face might have been considered tolerant…if not out-right indulgent. But on Remus the look was just off.

"I have already made arrangements for credit to be extended to your account," 'Remus explained as he hurried through the crowd and Harry struggled to keep up. "I've transferred enough Galleons from my account to yours to cover any expenses you may incur."

"You transferred money into my account?" asked Harry dumbfounded. "Why would you do that? I have plenty of my own money, you know."

"Yes…and you should save that money until you come of age," 'Remus' said tetchily. "Until then, I'm more than capable of seeing to your material needs."

Harry was taken so far aback, he stopped in his place. It wasn't so much as 'Remus'' uncharacteristically penetrating tone as it was his words. It never occurred to Harry that his friend's parents always bought them their things. Harry couldn't recall a single instance when Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia bought him something new. Hell…Harry couldn't remember them ever buying him anything from a jumble sale.

The fact that for the first time ever, his father was going to buy his things was somewhat overwhelming for Harry. It was almost enough to make him feel dizzy. But his butterflies left soon enough…replaced by an unfamiliar warm sensation in his chest. It almost felt like being…wanted.

Harry stopped his musings abruptly. He was still confused. "But why transfer money into my account? Why can't you just pay directly from your account?"

Oh…Harry almost wished he could take his words back. Behind Remus' normally soft brown eyes, was the workings of Severus Snape's mind and Harry couldn't help the cold chill that ran down his spine. Harry could almost see his father's internal debate. Bite back with one of his infamous scathing retorts, or give his son a civilised answer?

'Remus' bent over to whisper in Harry's ear. Harry tensed up, despite himself and then relaxed. It was only a slight inflection, but Harry definitely recognised the note of good-humour in his father's voice. "Don't you think that it might raise suspicions if Remus Lupin were to purchase Harry Potter's effects whilst crediting said purchases to Severus Snape's account?" He paused a moment and raised an eyebrow, giving Harry some time to mull his answer over.

'Remus' continued on and Harry had to run to catch up. "But why use credit at all?" Apparently his father's explanation hadn't sunken in. "Why can't you just let me pay with Galleons?"

'Remus' let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes as he held open the door that led into Madam Malkin's shop. "Because, Harry, that many Galleons would be extraordinarily cumbersome to lug about."

Harry walked into the shop, looking slightly dazed. "Exactly how many Galleons are we talking about here?"

A wry smirk was the only answer Harry received to that question.

Apparently Severus had transferred quite a few Galleons into Harry's account. By the time Harry left the shop with 'Remus', his father had managed to order not only five new school uniforms, but also two new sets of dress robes, a various array of dress shirts, casual shirts, jumpers, trousers, jeans, pyjamas, a dressing gown, shoes, slippers, socks, and an altogether embarrassing number of Y-fronts.

Harry thought it was easy for Severus to stay in character in Madam Malkin's shop. He was having too much fun watching Harry squirm and protest at every measurement and fitting.

Madam Makin seemed thrilled. No doubt she managed to make her profit for the day in one sitting. 'Remus' then ordered that everything be sent to Hogwarts.

What really chapped Harry's arse, was that Severus wouldn't let Harry see the charge. "It's my account, for Merlin's sake," he tried to reason with his father.

"And yet you managed not to spend a single Knut," said 'Remus' in mock amazement.

Nobody had told Severus that shopping with a teenaged boy was as physically exhausting as a marathon Quidditch match. As amusing as it was to watch Harry squirm under Madam Makin's ministrations, after the tailors and a trip to Quality Quidditch Supplies to obtain Harry's new Quidditch kit, Severus was nearly spent. Despite the potion, perhaps he should have waited one more day before scurrying about Diagon Alley with a teenaged boy suffering from an acute case of cabin-fever.

Despite already having lunch at Headquarters, the boy was hungry again as 3:00 set in. Severus wondered if Harry's sudden appetite had anything to do with the changes his body was going through because of Lily's spell. But then again…it could be ordinary, everyday, run-amuck teenaged metabolism. Severus wasn't sure if he should worry, or just down a Calming Draught and let the chaos of adolescence ensue. How Arthur and Molly Weasley could do this with four teenagers at home was more than Severus could fathom.

Too bad he couldn't think of any other parents with Prophecy marked children. Then someone could tell Severus if he should truly be worried; or if he was just channelling his mother.

Severus was actually preparing himself for a full-blown row when he told Harry they would be leaving for the estate a day early. Astonishingly, Harry said he was more than willing to give the Weasley girl her gift a day early and kiss Grimmauld Place goodbye.

Not that Severus could blame the boy. Severus was accustomed to Black's venom. Severus had hard callouses and he was pretty much impervious to whatever Black could throw at him.

But Harry…as strong and brave as Harry was, the boy still had soft spots and was vulnerable to Black's toxic vitriol; just as he had been vulnerable to Severus' in the past. Granted, Black's poison wasn't aimed at Harry, but Harry took deeper offence to the trespasses done to those he cared about than trespasses done to himself. If Black wasn't careful, he would dig himself into a hole he would find difficult to extract himself from.

For Severus' part…he didn't care a rat's arse over Black's feelings if Harry rejected him. Hell…it would make Severus a very happy man not to have to contend with Black any longer. But Harry…Harry would suffer in silence and it could end up jeopardising the tenuous rapport Severus and Harry were beginning to build together, thus bringing even more pain to Harry.

No…Severus had caused enough pain in Harry's life. If it meant playing nice with Black, then Severus would play nice for Harry's sake. But Severus' good intentions would be for naught if Black wouldn't get his head out of his arse.

They were sitting outside of a café. Harry was just finishing off his fish and chips and Severus was blowing on his cup of tea when his eyes caught something. There was no mistaking the silvery-blond locks that stuck out like a beacon amongst the school-shopping horde on the street.

Lucius Malfoy.

Severus threw down some Galleons on the table to pay for Harry's lunch and his tea.

"Come, Harry," Severus said abruptly. His eyes kept scanning the crowds for another face, but kept darting back so he wouldn't lose track of Lucius.

"Severus…what is it?" Severus heard Harry ask anxiously as he continued to search the crowds.

Severus did not answer his son.

Then he spotted who he was looking for. Young Bill Weasley made his way across the crowd waving his hand in the air to attract the attention of 'Remus'.

"Harry, came with me," Severus ordered sternly.

"Well…where else am I supposed to go?"

Severus did not have time to address his son's cheek. This might his only chance to make contact with Malfoy before it was too late.

"Bill!" shouted 'Remus' from across the throng. Severus was impressed that he managed to stay in character enough to call Mr Weasley by his given name. Crossing Diagon Alley was like trying to cross a cattle market.

"Professor," Mr Weasley said breathlessly as he finally made his way to 'Remus' and Harry. "I just saw…."

Severus cut him off mid-sentence.

"I know who you just saw," 'Remus' said urgently. "Take Harry and find the others…if I do not return by four-thirty, take him back to his godfather and send a Patronus to Albus. Tell him who I am with."

Severus then turned to Harry, raised and pointed his finger almost directly to Harry's nose for emphasis. "Stay with the Weasley's. You and your friends are not to wander off…. Do not worry. I'm only going to speak to Lucius."

"But…"

"No 'buts' Harry…just do it!" Severus spouted impatiently. Severus felt a pang of guilt for barking at his son, but there was no time to address Harry's look of dejection now.

As Severus hurriedly pushed his way through the swarm of shoppers, he heard Mr Weasley say, "Come on Harry…let's go find the others."

From where he stood, Severus could see the top of Lucius' head slip into Slugg and Jiggers.

'Remus' ducked into Quality Quidditch Supplies two doors down, and then slipped into a dressing room when no one was looking. From an inside pocket he took his phial of Polyjuice antidote and took a quick swallow.

Great Circe!

No matter how many times he had taken Polyjuice potion, Severus could never get used to the sensation. It felt as though he had mice crawling inside his skin.

After his transformation, Severus quickly transfigured Remus' shabby robes to his own familiar black. Unfortunately, he had not thought to bring a change of clothing. It was never a very good idea to wear transfigured clothing. The spells were unreliable and there was always a chance one's robes would transfigure back at the most inopportune moment. Severus kicked himself for not bringing a set of his own. Hopefully, the exchange would be a quick one.

Severus stepped out of the dressing room and slipped unnoticed out the front of the store. He casually strolled two doors down keeping a sharp eye out in case Lucius might have slipped out of the shop. He then stopped and peered inside the apothecary window.

Severus noticed that Lucius was carrying a plain black bag. Severus recognised it from the apothecary in Knockturn Alley. Let's just say that they sold ingredients of dubious legality... none of them standard ingredients for Hogwarts students.

Severus entered the store and the bell above the door rang. Two of the younger clerks were helping students pick out ingredients for their school potion kits and Elmer Slugghorn, the brother of Hogwarts' last Potion's Master, was at a small counter in the corner where he personally took care of his more…discerning customers.

When the bell rang, old Elmer looked up and smiled broadly. No doubt, in anticipation of Severus' Galleons. "Severus…how good to see you again so soon."

Lucius turned quickly and his normally superior countenance fell, replaced by ill-concealed fear. It was the same look he had on his face when the Dark Lord discovered his treachery the night before.

"Elmer…Lucius, do continue with your business," said Severus graciously as he gave a slight bow of his head.

"Severus," Lucius returned the greeting after regaining his composure.

Severus feigned interest in a jar of dried black beetle wings as he kept Lucius in his peripheral vision. He was eyeing the purchases that Lucius was acquiring, whilst simultaneously picking up some of the ingredients Harry would need for the new term.

Lucius' purchases seemed innocuous enough. Monkshood...dried mistletoe berries... valerian root. Though deadly in their own right, they were used in many common potions. But the black bag…Severus knew of only one potion in which all of these ingredients were used at once. If Lucius had in his black bag what Severus suspected…he had to be stopped.

Lucius finished his transaction and tried to make a point to slip by Severus.

"A word with you, Lucius," Severus said silkily as he touched the sleeve of Lucius' well-tailored smoke-grey robe.

There was a quick flash of fear in Lucius' grey eyes once again before they became impassive. The casual observer would not have noticed, but to Severus, Malfoy might as well have been announcing his fear with a Sonorus.

"I don't have the time at the moment, Severus," Lucius said all too quickly and in a tone that still conveyed his fear. Lucius Malfoy was palpably afraid of Severus.

Severus simply gave a slight upward turn of his lip and guided Lucius back to the counter whilst Severus made his own purchases.

Lucius eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing.

When Severus was done, he turned from the counter and said silkily in his dark voice, "Walk with me."

It was obvious that Lucius did not want to go anywhere with Severus. It was no wonder the Dark Lord had honed in on him. Even Severus could see flashes of Malfoy's memories and pick up the stray thought, and he wasn't even trying. It was obvious that Lucius was in a highly emotional state…one that was setting him into a near-panic.

Lucius had always commented how Severus had been one of the Dark Lord's favourite minions. And it was Severus who would be the obvious choice to brew the Potion. The callousness it would take to brew the elixir was beyond even what Lucius was capable of. Lucius had a solid reason to fear Severus above all others with the exception of the Dark Lord himself.

This could be harder than Severus originally anticipated.

The two wizards leaving the apothecary made an impressive sight. One as fair as the other was dark.

Severus noticed Lucius was still limping from the after effects of the previous night's meeting. Severus reached into his robes and produced his second bottle of the specialised pain draught. He hated to do it. It was expensive and difficult to brew. But he needed to gain the wizard's trust.

"Take this," Severus offered Lucius as they continued to casually stroll down the crowded alley. "It will counteract the effects of the curse."

Lucius haughtily pushed Severus' hand out of his way. "I'd rather not…thank you."

"I assure you it is not poisoned," Severus uncorked the phial and showed Lucius that it was full. He then took a sip to show his sincerity. He offered the phial back to Lucius.

Lucius stopped. He took the phial and eyed it suspiciously. Upon noticing that some of the potion was indeed gone, he hesitantly brought the bottle to his lips and looked around. There were far too many witnesses for Severus to poison him in public. Once again Lucius looked at the phial. He gathered his courage and downed the contents.

From the relieved look on Lucius face, Severus immediately noticed that his pain was gone. As Lucius still had all his mental faculties and he certainly was not dead, he handed Severus back the phial. "Thank you," said Lucius curtly, "Now do you mind telling me what this is about?"

"I fail to see why you were so concerned with being poisoned, Lucius."

Lucius stopped abruptly. He was staring straight ahead so to avoid Severus' gaze.

"It won't work you know." Severus told him warningly.

"I have no idea what you mean," Lucius said in feigned innocence as he began to walk off.

Severus grabbed him forcibly by the arm. Lucius sneered at Severus with obvious loathing. "Get your hands off me you filthy half-blood," he growled under his breath.

"I think not," said Severus with the same venom. He pulled Malfoy along with him and stopped when he found an empty store front. Severus forced Malfoy into the store's recessed outer vestibule and cast both a Muffliato and a Disillusionment Charm.

Malfoy's normally icy exterior had crumbled for good. Severus knew from the look on Lucius' face, that the wizard was scared beyond reason and that Severus had his full attention.

"I know what potion you intend to brew, Lucius," Severus said in disgust.

It was a very dark and very ancient potion. One Severus had considered brewing himself almost fifteen years ago. Not many were even aware of its existence.

"He will kill them all the same," Severus said coldly.

"How do you…?"

"I saw your purchases in Slugg and Jigger's. If your little black bag from Blackwell and Krook's contains concentrated mamba venom, then you have all you need for a Sui Caedere Potion."

The Suicide Potion. Although every ingredient was deadly in its own right, taking the Suicide Potion was once considered an honourable way to die for Wizards who had dishonoured their families or clans, just as Seppuku was once for the Muggle Samurai.

"No…Severus…You do not understand. He will make me…" Malfoy said in a clear whispered panic. He was pleading for mercy from Severus, certain he would deliver him to the Dark Lord. Never had Severus believed that Lucius could lose his famous steeled composure in such a grand manner. But he couldn't allow Malfoy's near hysterics effect him. There was too much at stake.

"Yes Lucius…I do understand. And if you do this, Narcissa and Draco will still die!" Snape said without pity.

"Then they will go into hiding…I'll tell Narcissa not to tell me whe…"

"You intend to condemn your family to a life of exile? Even if the Dark Lord spared your life, you would never see them again, and he would still find them."

"What other choice do I have? I will not stand idly by and allow him to force me into killing my family!" Lucius cried hoarsely.

"What if I told you that there was another way?"

"How?" Lucius eyes sparked with a glimmer of hope, but it quickly dimmed. "No…I don't believe you."

"Lucius…do you honestly think that the Dark Lord cursed all of his followers last night… because of your treachery? A little full of yourself, aren't you?"

Lucius was bringing his emotions back under control, but it was still clear he did not trust Severus when he said, "I don't understand."

Severus took a deep breath. Once he said this…there was no turning back. He kept a firm grip on his wand, in case his instincts about Lucius were dead wrong.

"There was more than one traitor last night," Severus explained. "The Dark Lord could not find him…so all were made to suffer."

"That's impossible," Lucius scoffed. "The Dark Lord is the most powerful Legilimens ever known. How could he not have found this supposed traitor?"

"Because, I did not wish him to find me," Severus said darkly, purposely adding an air of superiority to his tone.

"You?" spat Lucius unbelievingly. "You are too close to the Dark Lord. How can you keep something like this…," Realisation dawned on Lucius face. "You are an Occlumens?" Lucius half asked.

"It would seem that the Kneazle is out of the bag," Severus said dryly.

"But even so…certainly the Dark Lord would have sussed you out long before now. No one is that powerful in the Mind Arts."

Severus did not answer…only raised his eyebrow.

Lucius swallowed audibly and his voice cracked when he asked, "How…how long?"

"I've been Dumbledore's man since the beginning," Severus said idly.

Lucius looked scandalised. "A spy? All of this time? But you were only seventeen when you took the Mar…"

Realisation of what Severus was saying finally took hold and Lucius' face went from doubt to hope, and then back to fear again in the course of a breath.

This time it was Lucius who grabbed Severus by the arm. "What do you intend to do? You cannot possibly brew that potion!"

"Of course I'm not going to brew the bloody potion!" Severus spat as he shrugged off Lucius' hand, outraged that anyone would even suggest such a thing. Severus quickly brushed an errant strand of hair from his face.

"Which still begs the questions, what do you intend to do, and how can you possibly help my family?" Lucius asked as he dropped his hand. "You have nothing to gain from protecting my family and you know you will be targeted for assassination once the Dark Lord finds out about your perfidy."

"Hmm…Yes. Too bad turning me in will do nothing to save Draco," Severus said callously. "I am hardly worried as I will continue to be under the protection of Albus Dumbledore."

Lucius gave a sceptical snort, "That old coot."

"That 'old coot' has over a century of experience and wisdom," said Severus in defence of Albus. Severus might insult the Headmaster with impunity, but he wasn't about to let anyone else get away with it. "You know as well as I, he is the one wizard the Dark Lord fears. Do not underestimate the 'Old Coot's' power."

In his shock at such a declaration, Lucius could only blink dumbly at Severus. Not even in private circles was the Dark Lord ever called a coward in front of other Death Eaters. Not if one expected to live. It was a sign that Severus was sure of his hand...and his fate.

"He still cannot protect you from the Dark Lord's influence over The Mark," said Lucius sceptically.

"I don't need Dumbledore's protection from The Mark."

"You don't?"

"No, I do not. And therein lies your hope."

Harry put the last of his books on the counter for purchase. He kept glancing at the store front window for any sign of 'Remus'. Everybody else was scattered about the store, picking out their own selections, seemingly unconcerned.

"He's fine, Harry," said Hermione breathily as she plopped her books on the counter with a loud 'Thunk'. She expelled a huge breath after she unburdened herself from her load. "You'll see."

Harry was a little nervous. The last time Harry had seen Lucius Malfoy was at the graveyard the night Cedric died. Seeing the elder Malfoy was stirring up an entire host of memories that Harry had only just begun to deal with.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep measured breath. He was focusing on his shields, trying to find serenity in the gentle rolling of his falls. He slowly exhaled and opened his eyes as he felt himself begin to relax once again.

"Oh, there he is!" said Mrs Weasley with a sigh of relief as children began piling their books on the counter before her.

"Who's first?" inquired the sales clerk.

"You go first, Hermione," Harry offered. If his father was really back, Harry had a tonne of questions to ask.

Harry turned to look at the entrance door, and sure enough…in strolled 'Remus'. Harry was a little shocked and put-out. It would seem that 'Remus'' little talk with Lucius Malfoy had concluded some time ago. It was obvious to Harry that his father had been on a shopping spree of his own. Harry thought Severus wanted to shop together.

Harry was not surprised that 'Remus' was carrying a bag from the Apothecary's, but he had apparently been to Eeylops and back to the Quidditch supply shop as well.

Before Harry could question his father, 'Remus' handed Harry the smaller package from the owl emporium.

"What's this for?" Harry asked as he opened the brown paper bag, practically putting his head inside to see what was in it.

"Unless you harbour a peculiar fancy for owl treats, I would assume that they were for Hedwig," said 'Remus'.

"Oh…Thanks," Harry said, a little taken aback by his father's thoughtful gesture...and his joke. Perhaps some of Remus' casual nature rubbed off a bit on his father during the Polyjuice transformation. "Who's that for?" Harry asked, pointing at the bag from Quality Quidditch Supplies and eyeing it hopefully.

"You're not the world's only Quidditch player, Harry," 'Remus' said with a hint mystery and mischief in Severus' voice.

'Remus' put down his bags and retrieved the real Lupin's request list and letter of credit from his inside robe pocket. "Do you have everything you need?" he asked Harry.

"Uh, yeah, I think so," Harry said distractedly as he tried to make out the shape of whatever was in the Quidditch bag. He was just dying to know.

The witch that specifically handled orders from the Hogwarts' Professors came to the counter and greeted 'Remus'.

Ron came up behind Harry and asked excitedly, "What's in the bag, Harry."

Harry whispered, "I don't know. He won't tell me."

"…Yes…just have them delivered to the school," said 'Remus' as he quickly and efficiently finished his transaction.

'Remus' leaned over and picked up his bags. As he turned, he passed Harry he patted him on the shoulder and said cheekily, "Don't hurt yourself thinking about it, Harry," then walked away.

Harry and Ron watched stunned as 'Remus' walked out the door to wait for the others outside.

"Are you ready Mr Potter?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Harry caught off guard by the clerk's question. He hadn't realised that it was his turn already. Harry pushed his books towards the clerk, then handed him his notice of credit.

Harry said his goodbyes to his friends at the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius had already made his stoic goodbyes to Harry, and Harry refused to let himself get upset over it.

Harry wasn't about to beg Sirius to be accepting of Severus. He shouldn't have to.

He feigned being put out that he would be missing Ginny's party. But he left his gift with Mrs Weasley and told his friends that Severus promised that they could not only come over for a day, but for a sleepover sometime in the next week. Hopefully that would make up his absence to his friends.

The first stop for Harry and Severus was Hogwarts. The Headmaster had taken the school out of lockdown and Professor McGonagall was now in residence.

Severus had sent most of Harry's purchases to Hogwarts. He said the wards around Grimmauld Place and the cottage would not allow for delivery, and Harry's things could not be sent directly to Prince Manor as it would raise too much suspicion.

Harry's stomach turned whenever his father spoke of the manor. As excited as he was, he wasn't sure if he would like it. He was looking forward to the cottage, but Severus said it would be too small to accommodate all his friends.

Harry asked if the manor was as safe as the cottage, and Severus said it would be safe enough for a couple of days. Though he had been known to live there, Severus had not been in residence for many years and no one had reason to think he would return. The wards were strong and with Severus and Albus adding additional wards, they would have no fear of uninvited guests.

As grand as a place named Prince Manor sounded, Harry couldn't picture it and Severus didn't say much about it. Severus did not seem the 'Lord of the Manor' type, like Lucius Malfoy...his father was more like the mad scientist type.

Harry could only picture dilapidated stone castles out of Poe stories or Shelley novels. He knew he didn't want to stay alone in such a place the rest of the summer, even if it was only two weeks until the beginning of term. But he supposed a couple days with his friends would be alright.

When they arrived at Hogwarts Harry was to pack only what clothes he needed and the rest would be stored in his bedchamber in Severus' private quarters.

Once Harry and 'Remus' were alone in the back room at the Leaky Cauldron, 'Remus' once again took the Polyjuice antidote. After the bizarre transformation Harry asked, "You're not going back looking like that are you?"

"Of course not," Severus looked down at the shabby and now too short robes. With a flick of his wand, Severus transfigured Remus' slightly frayed robes to resemble his severe black robes. "I will change again once we reach the cottage," he said.

At first, Harry wondered why his father would need to change again. Then he remembered that transfiguring clothing could be a dodgy business.

Harry stepped into the Floo with his father, as the Floo at Hogwarts could accommodate more than one person, unlike the Floo at Grimmauld Place.

Severus called out, "Albus Dumbledore's office…Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

This time Harry had managed not to stumble face first out of the Floo, which was a good thing considering the mountain of books he was carrying. But that was probably due to the fact that Severus had firmly held Harry by the shoulder the entire time.

But Harry managed to drop his books anyway at the terrifying sight behind the Headmaster's desk.

"SEVERUS SNAPE! … Do you mind telling me the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall snapped in her Scottish brogue.

"SEVERUS SNAPE! … Do you mind telling me the meaning of this?"

Damn!

Severus knew Minerva was in the castle today. He simply didn't realise she would be occupying the Headmaster's office.

Speaking of which…scattered throughout were Harry's packages...a small mountain of them.

Severus stepped gracefully out of the Floo, attempting to appear unaffected by Minerva's temper-tantrum. "Well they couldn't very well be delivered to Headquarters now, could they? Besides, the boy is in need of a new wardrobe."

"New wardrobe? There's enough here for Mr Potter to open his own clothier!" Minerva said in exasperation. "Do you realise how many owls I had to pay? I had to pay from the school funds. I certainly do not keep that many Galleons in my hat!"

Severus mused aloud as he set down his own bags. "Curious? I was led to believe that postage was included with such a large purchase."

Severus airily waved off Minerva's concern as he sat down in his usual chair in front of Albus' desk. "It is of no great consequence, Minerva. Simply deduct it from my pay."

"I intend to do just that," she assured him tersely.

Severus' attention shifted from Minerva when he noticed Harry on his hands and knees by the Floo, awkwardly trying to pick up his books. "Harry, why are you crawling on the floor like an animal?" Severus barked. "I was under the impression that you at least knew the rudiments of wand-work."

Severus sharply inhaled and ground his teeth. He admonished himself for his quick temper. Harry flushed as he stood up and pulled his wand from his back pocket. But at least that problem was taken care of with Harry's new wardrobe. There were proper wand-pockets in the robes and trousers.

"Yeah…thanks!" Harry said sheepishly as he cast his charm, and his books stacked themselves neatly on an end table.

Minerva cast an admonishing eye at Harry, but she directed her ire towards Severus. "Don't you think that Mr Potter has been in enough trouble with the Ministry, Severus, without you encouraging him to use unauthorised magic?"

"He is on Hogwarts' grounds and in the presence of his legal guardian. Why the concern?" said Severus smoothly. "Who's to know unless you say something?"

"Well, I suppose what the Ministry doesn't know, can't hurt Harry," Minerva reluctantly agreed, "Now what to do about all of this?" She said, indicating to Harry's scattered effects.

"Harry will pack what he needs in that trunk," Severus said as he pointed to a new oak trunk with brass fittings. "And the rest, the house-elves can take to his room in my quarters until term begins."

"Oh Severus, you may wish to return that trunk," Minerva said pointedly.

"And why is that?" Severus asked. Harry had looked up curiously from where he was already picking out his clothes.

"Because, they made a mistake with the monogram. It reads 'HS'."

That's it!

As Severus watched Minerva's continued descent into madness, he thought he might as well go ahead and post Harry's revised birth announcement in The Daily Prophet. The Kneazle was defiantly out of the bag and there was no shoving it back in without emerging bloody and flayed from the effort.

It had been Severus' intention that only an inclusive group of people were to be aware of Harry's true parentage for the time being. Now the whole damn Wizarding world was coming to know it one by one.

Yes…Severus had given Harry permission to tell Ronald Weasley and Ms Granger. Harry needed his friends, and he did not need the animosity that may have developed had he not told them straight off. Especially Mr Weasley, that boy could hold onto a grudge tighter than a Grindylow to a Hippocampus…and almost as tightly as Severus.

But Harry's two friends had proven countless times that they could keep a secret. Severus had no fear that they would reveal anything.

Of course Harry's god-dog had to know…pity that.

Ironically, it had been Albus and Harry who had blown the gaff off of the whole damn thing.

Albus had taken it upon himself to tell Lupin. Severus certainly did not agree with letting the Wolf be privy to his personal information. Oh…Severus supposed that the mutt would eventually tell his pack mate, but that would have given Severus a good excuse to curse the seven shades of shite out of cur.

And of course, all of the Weasley's now knew. Severus wasn't entirely certain who let that one slip. Harry had almost called Severus 'Dad' in the presence of nearly everyone at Grimmauld Place. Then again, Severus left no room for doubt in his fight with Black. But Severus reasoned that the Weasley's had been Harry's surrogate family after all, and had taken care of Harry when others would not or could not. They had the right to know.

But now…now Severus couldn't find fault with anybody if he wanted to. What was he thinking when he had 'HS' monogrammed on Harry's trunk?

Severus had no intention of revealing his relationship with Harry to everyone…Yet. But he absolutely refused to think of Harry as a 'Potter' anymore. Harry was his son and his legacy. As far as Severus was concerned, Harry was going to become a Snape as soon as circumstances allowed. As much as anything, the monogram was a testament to Severus' hopeful anticipation and his commitment to Harry.

After all, nobody but Harry and Severus were supposed to actually see the trunk. Severus had merely bought it for Harry to pack his things for the cottage.

But still, Severus' sentimentality had triggered another slip. Well… Harry had made the slip, but it wouldn't have happened had Severus not given into his own sensibilities.

Harry eyed his father curiously. He knew what the initials meant. Was Severus planning to change his name? Harry was under the impression that it was to be kept secret. When was his father going to tell him?

"And when is this going to happen?" Harry pointed accusingly at his trunk. Was he returning to school as 'Harry Snape'? To be honest, it had never occurred to Harry about changing his name, but now that he thought about it, he supposed the topic would come up…eventually. But he was accustomed to his own name. He wasn't averse to talking about it with his father, but it would be nice to be asked first.

Had Severus changed his mind about keeping it all a secret?

The Deputy Headmistress slowly made her way from around her desk, as if she were preparing for a fight. "When is what going to happen, Mr Potter?" She asked suspiciously as she half-rested herself on the corner of her desk.

"When am I going to exchange the trunk," Severus said in an easy lie. He looked to Harry with only the slightest raised brow. Harry knew it was his cue to go along with the quickly contrived story.

Unfortunately, Harry's Head of House noticed the exchange. "Do not intimidate one of my students, Severus," she warned.

Obviously, she hadn't been fooled in the least. Even Harry could tell that Professor McGonagall was in some type of protective mode. Harry couldn't understand why. It wasn't as if he were in any danger. "Now Mr Potter, answer my question. When is what going to happen?" she asked again in a tone that bartered no protest.

"Uh…what Professor Snape said," Harry spat out a little too rushed. "When is he going to exchange my trunk?"

"Mr Potter? Is there something that you wish to tell me?" McGonagall asked, sniffing out the lie.

What on earth could she be thinking?

Severus' eyes narrowed and he practically glared at Professor McGonagall as if he were trying to will her to stop her questioning. Apparently he was not happy with the direction of the conversation.

"Nothing that I can think of, Professor," said Harry. He regretted his outburst. She needed to stop asking these questions.

Harry took a step back as his professor moved a little too close into his personal space. She practically hovered over him, effectively using her body to come between himself and his father. "Do not be afraid to tell me the truth, Harry," she said concern. "I assure you, I will not allow Professor Snape to hurt you."

"HURT HIM!"
"HURT ME!" Severus and Harry both screamed out in mutual outrage.

McGonagall jumped at the sudden outburst. "Well what am I supposed to think? ... The gifts … your threatening look at the boy…And since when have you ever addressed a student by their given name Severus? It all reeks of impropriety."

When his father took a threatening step towards McGonagall, Harry quickly stepped around between the two. He sighed in relief when Severus only pointed an accusing finger. "Impropriety? Now see here, you perverse minded tabby cat! How dare yo..."

Harry had enough. Now he didn't like where this conversation was going. What was it with people and their dirty minds always jumping to the wrong conclusion? "DAD…JUST TELL HER!"

Severus' rage melted away, but the annoyance he felt towards his son at that moment was just as palpable. "I believe you just did, Harry," he said as calmly as he could.

There was nothing more that Severus wanted than to earn the title of that moniker. But not this way.

"Dad?" Minerva asked in confusion. "What is Mr Potter talking about, Severus? I know that it takes a certain closeness to teach and learn Occlumency. But to have the boy call you…"

"And yet you automatically assume the unthinkable when I provide for Harry's wardrobe or address him by his given name?"

"And yet you still refuse to give me an explanation or to tell me why Mr Potter just called you 'Dad'." Minerva shot back. "It is an abomination to James' and Lily's sacrifice!"

Severus raised his finger and his mouth was agape, ready to launch a tirade of insults, when Harry interrupted.

"Professor, don't you think the most probable reason I just called him 'Dad' is because he is my father?" Harry said in exasperation. "What? …Don't look at me like that Da…Severus…She needs to know anyway. She is my Head of House," Harry added defensively.

That had deflated the air out of Severus. Just as quickly as it had started…it had ended. Harry had already reverted back to calling him 'Severus'. Apparently the title had been because of an emotional slip.

But Harry was right. Minerva should know. All of the Heads of House had to know their student's parents or guardians. If the situation was reversed, Severus would insist upon knowing as well and would have been livid if such vital information about one of his Snakes were purposely held back from him.

The colour had completely drained from Minerva's face. The edge was gone from her voice when she asked, "Severus? Is Mr Potter telling the truth? Are you his father?"

Oh…this was just ducky!

Now Severus was going to have to play true confessions. He gathered up all of his notable dignity and confessed as if Minerva where his priest. "Yes… I am."

Minerva's expression was vacant. Severus could almost see her mind at work as she tried to process this new information.

Minerva looked to Harry and then back to Severus, perhaps trying to suss out any physical similarities…or to determine if Harry and Severus were just pulling her tail.

Minerva's sharp eyes then scanned the room. Severus supposed that to anyone not privy to Harry's situation, the abundance of new clothes and books would seem to be an overindulgence.

Then the cat-like gaze locked on the inscription on Harry's trunk.

The stern Deputy Headmistress' focused again upon Harry and Severus then her eyes slowly widened with realisation.

Suddenly, Minerva's hand shot over her mouth and her eye's brightened with newly escaping tears. An unearthly cry that Severus never fathomed the dour witch could make, escaped from her ill-hidden smile. "Ohhh!"

Before Severus could defend himself, Minerva crossed the space between them faster than Severus thought a witch of her age was rightfully capable of. "I'm so happy for you both!"

Severus attempted to back away, but he was too late. She managed to capture him and held in a tight embrace. Severus attempted to call for help from Harry, but he was rendered speechless. Certainly he would die from asphyxia if he wasn't rescued soon.

Severus remained frozen… partly in terror and partly because he simply could not move from Minerva's iron-clad hug. Apparently the old witch was rabid! What in the name of Merlin had overcome her? Fortunately for Severus, the old cat eyed another victim.

Minerva released Severus and went straight for Harry. It seemed Harry hadn't learned from his father's near-fatal mistake.

"Oh, Harry," Minerva cried with unabashed tears as she rushed over to Harry with her arms wide open and enfolded him in her indissoluble grasp.

Now it was Harry's turn to be at a loss. He hesitantly embraced his normally austere Head of House.

Not quite sure as to what to do or say, Harry gave his irrational Head of House a timid pat on the back and hoarsely replied, "Thank you?... I guess?"

Severus composed his dignity as his barmy colleague smothered his son. It was time to rescue Harry and get him to the cottage before anymore chaos ensued.

"Minerva, you're smothering Harry," Severus said. She really wasn't, at least not to the point she had accosted him, but his distraction had the desired effect.

Minerva released Harry and began to straighten the boy's collar and hair. "Oh…I do apologise Mr Potter," she said, gathering what was left of her decorum.

Severus had no clue as to why Minerva would be happy to see Harry saddled with him, of all people. But if the stern and powerful witch was giving her unequivocal approval, Severus was going to take it and run.

"Severus?" she turned to face him now that her dignity was again intact. "Is Mr Potter going to remain 'Mr Potter'?"

The monogram had come back into question.

"Yeah…that's a good question, Severus," Harry said with a slight bit of irritation and crossing his arms in a very Snape-ish manner. "Is Mr Potter going to remain 'Mr Potter'?"

Well this was certainly awkward. Severus had not thought about what Harry might say about it.

"If you wish, we can discuss the matter later, but now is neither the time nor place," Severus said evenly. "For now it remains prudent that you stay a 'Potter'." As much as it irked Severus, that was the way things had to be.

"Fair enough," Harry said with a quick nod, acknowledging that the subject was closed for now.

"Now, back to the matter at hand," Severus said, changing the subject with an inner sigh of relief. "You need to pack."

Harry ran along behind Severus with his new trunk in tow. They were heading down beyond the gates of the school to Apparate to the cottage.

"Why can't we just Floo?" asked Harry breathily. He was getting tired of lugging the trunk around.

His father turned to answer. The irritated look on his face quickly softened when he noticed Harry was struggling with his trunk on the bumpy terrain. Severus produced his wand from his sleeve and cast a Locomotor spell so the trunk would follow on its own.

Severus continued with long strides back down the hill that led to the gates. "We can't travel by Floo because the cottage is warded and the manor house has been off of the Floo Network since my absence. Its connection cannot be re-established until I do so from within," he explained in even breaths that kept in time with his pace.

When they were past the gates Severus turned once again to Harry. "Harry, you are going to have to come close and hold on tightly to me."

"Um...Okay," Harry said nervously. He stepped closer to Severus and reached his arms out…timidly trying to find a spot in which to put his arms around Severus without feeling so awkward.

His father's lips thinned from impatience and Harry nearly yelped in surprise as Severus abruptly pulled Harry close and manoeuvred Harry's arms about his waist. Severus wrapped one arm tightly around Harry and grasped his trunk with his free hand.

Harry had to admit…as awkward as it felt, the close proximity to his father was comfortable all at the same time. Severus' robes were softer than Harry imagined, and he smelled differently.

During the school year, the sharp odour of various potions clung to Severus in an invisible haze. But these were not the Potion Master's teaching robes. They smelt warm and masculine. Like sandalwood. Like comfort. Like safety…tinged with the slight salty sweat of exertion from striding down the hill from the castle.

Like Dad, Harry thought as he heart gave a slight squeeze in his chest. Why had he just noticed?

Wanting to avoid the implications of such thoughts, Harry turned to more practical matters. "Uh…What about Hedwig?" he asked hesitantly. "Will she be able to find me through the wards?"

"Yes. You are a Prince by blood and the wards will recognise her as your familiar… Now hold on tight, Harry," Severus said. Harry wasn't certain he liked that quirky, upturned lip. "The first time Apparating can be a little…discombobulating."

"Did you just say discombobula…?"

Before Harry could finish his sentence he felt as if he was being turned inside out. Harry knew he and Severus had arrived at their destination, but apparently Harry's stomach and his brain had decided to continue to travel on without the rest of him.

Did his father say 'discombobulating'? Harry thought the word sounded odd coming from Severus Snape, but Harry had to admit… the term was accurate.

All Harry could say about his first impressions of the Prince estate was that the grass was lovely. Now if the ground would just stop moving…

He heard his father's voice say from someplace over him, "Harry, let I give you a hand up?" All he could see of the man was his black leather boots and an extended hand.

"No thank you…I think I'll just stay where I'm at for the moment," Harry whimpered. The ground felt so nice and firm…as long as he didn't move.

"Harry…I know how secure lying on the ground must feel right now," said Severus in a strangely sympathetic voice as Harry watched his father kneel down next to him. "But you'll never see your new home if you don't get up."

Home?

Suddenly the nausea from the Apparition was replaced with new feelings...excitement and curiosity. Harry now took his father's hand. With what was the first real smile Harry had ever seen grace the man's face, Severus helped Harry up and said, "Welcome to your mother's cottage, Harry."

It took a minute for Harry to take it all in…and another for him to remember to breathe. He and Severus were standing before what could best be described as a small courtyard rather than a front garden. They had Apparated directly under a red brick archway.

The arch connected two stone buildings with thatched roofs that actually created an 'L' shaped wall at the south and west of the courtyard. The west side building was the larger of the two. It actually had small windows high up its side and was split level. Harry thought that it might have been a stable once upon a time. The south facing building was long, rectangular, and windowless. It had ivy growing up its side. The base of the two buildings was bordered by the same rusty brick as the arch.

As soon as one stepped from beneath the arch, a cobblestone path curved through the courtyard grass, dividing the grass into two crescent moon shaped carpets. The path led up to a wooden staircase that went up to a covered balcony. The balcony extended across the entire façade of the little stone cottage. It was supported by squared wooden porch posts. The mahogany entry door was in the middle if the frontal façade. To the right of the entry door was a large two paned window, to the left, a small window sat high up. The shutters and porch posts were painted a warm reddish brown.

The cottage itself was a four square bungalow with a slate roof. He had seen homes similar to this in the magazines Aunt Petunia would sometimes get that displayed model houses from around the world. Harry couldn't remember where the design was from, but it was unlike anything Harry had seen in his limited knowledge of the English countryside. He would have to ask Severus where his great-grandfather had come up with the design of the house.

There was a single dormer protruding from the front and a larger one from the back. On either side there were two more dormers, with a stone chimney jutting out from between them.

Harry was taking it all in when his father asked, "Well, are we going in?" Although the smile had left Severus' lips, it had taken up residence in his father's eyes.

"Yeah," Harry said distractedly.

As he and his father walked up the cobble stone pathway, Harry looked off to the east. As far as the eye could see, they were surrounded by pasture and copse.

In the far distance, Harry could see part of a lake that seemed to be nestled between two hillsides, and atop an even farther hill, what resembled a fairy tale palace. It looked tiny from this distance but Harry could still make out the blue steeple roofs, the façade looked like a pale yellow from the distance. He could even tell that there were manicured gardens and greenhouses.

"What's that?" Harry asked as he pointed at the far of structure.

"That is Prince Manor," Harry gave Severus a double take. He almost sounded amused.

"How far away is it?" he asked his father as they ascended the stairs to the front balcony. Harry had stopped when he reach the top and looked across the expanse before him. Severus stopped and looked with him.

"The manor is approximately five kilometres from here, as the crow flies" explained Severus. Harry was shocked when he considered the distance. The place was had to be massive. "It as somewhere around 250 rooms and a little over 53,000 square metres of floor space," his father said before Harry could form the question. Severus then turned to open the door.

Harry followed in his father, but he continued to look over his shoulder into the far off distance. "Wow," he said in wonder.

"I lived there for eleven years and never managed to explore the entire manor," Severus said as he stepped aside and held the door open for Harry. "Perhaps you will uncover secrets that even I was unable to, in my youth."

Harry finally managed to take his eyes off the fairy-tale in the distance and stepped into the cottage. At first glance there was nothing much to see. They stood in a long entrance hallway. The walls were painted neutral beige with mahogany crown moulding. The crown moulding ran throughout the house. A long, red runner covered the dark hardwood floors.

Harry stopped when he noticed the pictures, both magical and Muggle that lined the entry hall walls.

He gasped and stood transfixed. Not only were there happy pictures of Sev…his father and mother, but there were quite a few of an older couple, as well. A man with flaming red hair, a longish face and familiar green eyes…and a woman with pretty blue eyes and her blond hair swept up into a bun. In the Muggle photo Harry was studying, they were smiling brightly with their arms about one another. It looked as though they were in a back garden… in the middle of a party going on about them.

"Your mother's parents."

Harry nearly jumped as his father startled him with his sudden presence. There was a far-off look in his eyes. "This was taken during a surprise party for their twentieth anniversary."

Harry turned back to the picture and continued to gaze in awe. As he studied the man to whom he was a namesake, he could begin to see family resemblances. Aunt Petunia had inherited her mother's hair and her father's face. Harry's mum had inherited her father's hair and eyes, and by extension…Harry had Harold's eyes.

"What happened to them?"

Harry's question was met with silence as he continued to stare at his grandparents—wishing the people would move. He thought he might have heard a slight sniff before Severus finally answered in what Harry could only describe as false bravado, "Let's save such melancholy for another day, shall we? You still have a house to explore."

"I still need to unpack. We left my trunk outside," Harry said as he headed back to the front door, but stopped when his father said, "Not to worry, a house-elf has already taken care of it."

Harry turned and gave his father a quizzical look, "Really?"

Harry gave a second look to his surroundings. The cottage didn't seem big enough to warrant a house-elf. Coming in from the outside, Harry noticed the open door to the door left that led into the kitchen. There was a short hallway directly across from the kitchen door that had a door on the end and another to the left.

"Your room is up the stairs and straight across the landing," Severus told him. "I'm going to tell the manor's head house-elf, Cassie, to go ahead and prepare supper. In the meantime, make yourself at home, Harry." Severus then strode down the main hall and disappeared through another door on the left.

Home.

That word again. He couldn't hear it enough.

Harry continued to walk down the hallway, averting his gaze so not to linger on the family photos he knew would lure him like the Mirror of Erised. From the corner of his eye he could see others of a man and woman with darker hair. Severus wondered if they were his father' parents, but that secret would keep for now.

There was a door straight ahead, just beyond the foot of the stairs. Harry could see his father in the sitting room on the left, talking to a house-elf wearing what looked to be a deep blue pillow case with gold trim. To Harry's right, he could see small semi-formal dining room. Its entrance was just past the foot of the stairs.

When Harry came to the foot of the stairs, he felt a surge of energy course through his body and he bounded up the stairs. He wanted to see his bedroom in his house.

At the top he could see the recess of what was the front facing dormer. It had a comfy looking built in seating area. Just right for reading on a rainy day, he thought to himself.

Harry turned down the landing and saw two doors, one directly ahead, the other at a ninety degree angle to the right.

Harry entered his room. He was actually surprised how small it was. It was only slightly bigger than his room at the Dursley's. It was if someone had to make do with the odd shapes of the sloping roof and recessed windows. But whoever did it, did it well.

The room looked a little feminine, but not overly so. The walls were white with the same dark crown moulding as the rest of the house. He had a queen sized sled bed with a white cotton comforter. Directly next to his bed was a red chaise chair sitting in front of a recessed window facing the back of the house. It was cosy, but it still resembled a guest room. Even if the money came from his vault, the next visit to London would have to include a purchase of at least some new linens, and once he put up his Quidditch poster, and his drawings, it would go a long way into making the room his own.

In the recessed window area facing the side, was a small writing desk and chair. His school books were already in a neat stack on his desk, ready to be used. There was also a floor to ceiling book shelf built into the wall.

Harry noticed his new trunk sitting on the floor on the foot of the bed.

He went to the window next to the bed. Harry actually had to climb up on the chaise chair that sat in the recess and face backwards to look out.

Harry couldn't believe what he saw in the back garden...a Quidditch Pitch. Now there was a view!

At first Harry wondered if his father might have had it built for him, but then he noticed that it was rather old. Then Harry remembered something. …not the only Quidditch player…his father had said.

Does Severus play Quidditch?

Now Harry was really anxious to know what was in that bag.

Harry climbed down from the chair and noticed a wardrobe cupboard made from some dark wood and a door on the opposite facing wall. Harry was about to open the new door when he heard his father call out from the foot of the stairs. "Harry? Dinner's ready."

"This place is brilliant!" Harry told Severus excitingly as he bounded down the stairs.

"Yes it is," Severus agreed as he watched his exuberant teen race past him and into the dining room. Severus shook his head as he followed the boy in. "Just don't bring the walls down around us and it will remain that way…have you washed yet?"

"Uh…no…where's the wash room?"

"Well, apparently you didn't notice the facilities in your room," Severus said.

"I have an ensuite here too? I didn't think there was enough room."

"No…we wash in the creek out back and dig a hole outside with a trowel like squatters. Yes…you have an ensuite."

Harry smiled broadly. "Great. I'll be right back."

"No need," Severus said as he stopped his teenaged son from thundering back up the stairs. "There is a loo just past that door and to the left. You can wash there." The door had led into the small hallway that Harry noticed when they came into the house.

Severus sighed to himself as watched as Harry left the dining room to go wash his hands. He had told Harry a half truth. True, he did not want to speak of the Evans' untimely deaths tonight. It was because he had another, almost equally disturbing topic to discuss with his son. However, he made up his mind not to do so until after dinner.

When Harry returned, Severus was already seated at the head of the table. The dining table could seat up to four people with room to spare, but was now only set for two.

As Harry pulled out his chair and sat down to his bangers and mash, he took time to notice the room. The walls were a warm pumpkin colour with a large bay window facing the east. There was a mahogany china cabinet filled with sparkling fine crystal and some very expensive looking china that would make Aunt Petunia drool with envy, and serving table on either wall.

"Severus" Harry asked hesitantly.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Harry still faltered with the question in his head.

Severus said silkily as he cut into his banger, "Are you going to ask me a question Harry… or leave me to die of curiosity?"

Why was Harry afraid to ask? It wasn't as if the Pitch wasn't in the back garden for the entire world to see. Well…Harry supposed that the entire world couldn't see it…but he could.

Harry finally mustered up the courage and practically blurted out, "Do you play Quidditch?" He played with his potatoes as he wearily watched his father from the corner of his eye for a reaction.

"As a matter of fact…I do…or rather, I did," Severus corrected himself. He then took a hearty bite of his sausage.

Severus' casual tone went a long way to make Harry relax and he felt his appetite quickly return. "Really?" he said as he cut into his own dinner with relish. He couldn't imagine Severus Snape doing anything as frivolous as playing Quidditch.

There was no mistaking the amused glint in Severus' eyes when he said, "I fail to see why that astonishes you? You have seen me referee a game, after all." He took a sip of wine and continued. "You honestly don't think that they'd allow someone to mediate a game that did not actually have experience playing?"

"I suppose you're right," mused Harry. "I just can't imagine you racing around on a broom…What position did you play?" he asked as he stabbed at his food.

A hint of a grin crept itself in the corner of Severus' lips. "I was a Seeker," he said then took another bite of his own dinner.

Harry's fork stopped in mid-air. "You're winding me up," he said in disbelief. "You weren't a Seeker. Why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Most likely for the same reason you haven't heard that Professor McGonagall was once Gryffindor's star Beater," explained Severus. "It's a long standing tradition that the staff refrains from mentioning their personal lives, past or present. Our school awards are even kept in the staff room."

"Why? That doesn't seem fair."

"Well…Primarily, it simply isn't professional to speak of such things," Severus explained. "And not to mention, over 300 years ago a friendly House rivalry between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff went south when the students were boasting over whose Head was the better Wizard's Chess Champion. The rivalry turned into a duel between the Heads. The Head of Hufflepuff ended up sporting permanent bat wings for ears whilst the Head of Ravenclaw was hexed so badly, he vanished for three years."

"Wow! And I thought that House rivalries got out of hand these days," Harry said as he hung on Severus' every word. "Do you have any awards?"

"As a matter of fact I do," said Severus with an obvious air of pride. "Perhaps I will show you some day."

"That would be brilliant! What broom did you fly?" Harry asked.

"A Nimbus 1500…I think the old broom may still be in the attic," he hinted to Harry. "It doesn't compare to a Firebolt, but even to this day, it can outperform most of the brooms on the market."

Harry took the hint and ran with it. "Maybe we can fly together some day," he said hopefully. "Maybe even see who's better at catching the Snitch?"

"I'm afraid that you will have the advantage over me in that regard, Harry," his father admitted as he put down his linen napkin. "I'm several years out of practice. However, I would have given even you a run for your money when I was in my prime," he boasted. "That Pitch in the back was built by my great-grandfather. I used it for my own practice."

"I don't understand?" Harry said. "Aunt Petunia said that you grew up not far from them. When did you live here?"

"I was almost eleven," Severus told Harry. "My mother had died. Although she was estranged from my grandfather, I had become his only heir. He would not stand to have his only grandson raised by a Muggle. Julius had been granted custody of me after he had my father declared unfit."

Harry had noticed that his father had become decidedly uncomfortable with the subject.

Severus arose from the table. "Harry after you finish your pudding, I need you to join me in the sitting room," he said stiffly. "I have a serious matter that I need to discuss with you."

Harry was taken aback by his father's sudden change in tone. It sounded almost ominous. But Harry simply agreed as he nodded, "Alright."

Severus left the dining room and went into his office at the end of the hall to be alone. With his elbow propped on the table and his head hanging in his hand, he nursed his growing headache by rubbing his temple with his thumb. He reached into his top desk drawer and took out a phial of a standard Pain Relief Draught, thankful the elves had remembered the basics when they packed his things that morning. Severus took the draught, and thanked Merlin for the instant relief.

He wasn't ready to discuss the topic of Julius with his son yet. But even more unpleasant was the fact that he could not avoid discussing the topic of Lucius Malfoy with Harry.

He had to mentally prepare himself. Severus wasn't certain how he was going to tell Harry that he would be giving Occlumency lessons to Lucius Malfoy.

Severus later found Harry in the sitting room. His son had apparently been waiting for some time. Harry was draped over the arm of the couch, half asleep. The only light in the room was a couple of low lit sconces that gave a soft glow of the rust painted walls.

"Harry?" Severus called quietly.

He was right in guessing that Harry was not yet fully asleep. The boy groggily answered, "Wha…Oh…Sorry, Severus," at the sound of Severus' gentle query.

Harry slowly sat up and fixed the glasses on his face. "I was trying to stay awake."

"That's quite alright, Harry. I apologise if I woke you," Severus said as he took a seat in the Chippendale next to Harry.

"No, that's okay. You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

He really couldn't think of a way to approach the subject delicately. He could feel that headache coming back.

As always, Severus opted for the direct path. It was how he preferred to get his news…good or bad. Severus figured that he ought to give his son the same respect that he expected for himself.

Severus put his fisted hand over his mouth as he nervously cleared his throat. "Yes, Harry," he began. "You surely recall this afternoon when I abruptly left to go speak with Mr Malfoy?"

Harry nodded but said nothing, so Severus continued.

"As I am sure you are aware, last night's meeting with my… other associates…did not exactly go smoothly."

"Yeah?" Harry said, unable to hide his anxiety.

"Well…it seems that Mr Malfoy has found a common cause with The Order and is in need of protection."

"Protection? What does that have to do with me and what makes you think that he isn't just trying to rat you out?"

"I assure you he is not. It's not only Mr Malfoy's life that is at stake, but lives of his family…especially Draco." Severus explained.

"Draco…what does Draco have to do with anything?"

Why is it he never noticed how observant Harry was before? Severus realised that the boy was just as adept at sussing out a deception as he was. Lying out right to the boy probably wouldn't work and it would certainly lead to distrust. But this was a burden Severus wanted to keep from his son for as long as possible. Harry had enough of the weight of the world set on his scrawny shoulders. "Harry, please trust me on this. Suffice it to say, if it were just Lucius, I would leave him to suffer whatever fate he had meted out for himself…but I cannot stand back and watch a child pay for his father's sins…And neither can Lucius."

"I suppose I can understand him wanting to protect his family," Harry mused as he studied his hands. "But I think there's more to this than what you're saying. What kind of protection are you going to offer Mr Malfoy and why should I care?"

Severus sat up straighter and readied himself for the diatribe he knew would come. "Because, it has become a necessity that I teach Lucius Malfoy Occlumency."

Severus actually had to grab on the arms of his chair to keep from falling out of his seat from Harry's outburst.

Harry bolted up from the sofa. "YOU"RE GOING TO DO WHAT!"

Severus arose from his chair and put his hands on Harry's shoulders in an attempt to calm his son "Harry…you must calm yourself. Use your Occlumency."

Harry batted Severus' arms away and ranted, "Don't tell me to calm myself! And sod your Occlumency! He was there…that night, you know. All he did was watch like it was some sort of sick entertainment and did nothing when Voldemort tried to kill me! He actually smiled when Vol…when He tortured me! He didn't even blink an eye at Cedric's bo…At Ce…There was a kid lying there dead and he didn't even care!"

Even if Severus was aware of what Lucius was thinking that night, it did not matter now. Harry was too far gone to listen to any explanations or excuses. Severus had to catch Harry as his son's legs suddenly gave out on him.

It appeared that although Harry no longer blamed himself for what happened to his friend in the graveyard that night, the events themselves still plagued the child. Harry was a strong boy, but he was still that…a boy. He was Severus' boy, who had seen more horror than any one person should experience in a lifetime. Despite Harry's Gryffindor bravado, another breakdown was inevitable. It was better for Harry that it was sooner rather than later.

Severus lowered Harry to the floor with him. The leaned on the couch for support and Severus let his son cry into his chest. For how long…Severus had no idea. It did not matter.

After some time, Harry's keening gave way to sobs, and then to small hiccups. Severus pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and began to dry Harry's cheeks. He was startled when he felt Harry's hand rest softly over his. It lingered for a moment, until Harry's fingers gingerly took the cloth from Severus' hand.

Harry looked up at Severus through his now grimy, tear-stained glasses, with his watery green eyes. He was congested when he said a soft, "Thank you," to Severus.

Severus knew Harry wasn't thanking him for the handkerchief.

Harry dropped his head on Severus' shoulder and Severus put his arm around Harry's shoulders and began carding his long fingers through his son's unruly hair. "Harry," Severus said softly, "I need you to listen and understand. I do not excuse Lucius for any of his past sins." Severus soothing voice seemed to have an effect on his son, as he felt a slight bit of tension release from Harry's shoulders, despite the return to the unwelcome subject. "But I assure you…I would not even consider this, if Draco's life weren't at stake. You would not have me stand idly by as the Dark Lord murders another child?"

A horrible realisation came to Severus. There would be others. He did not know when the Dark Lord intended to summon his Death Eaters and their firstborn. Would they be able to save all of the children in time? He closed his eyes and tightened his grip around his own son, hesitant to let him go.

Harry slowly pulled himself away from his Severus' embrace. "Of course not," the boy sniffed as he wiped a stay tear away with the handkerchief and blew his nose. "I may not like Draco, but I don't want anything to happen to him…I just don't know if I can see his father around all of the time."

"You won't have to see Lucius Malfoy at all, Harry," Severus reassured his son as he placed a callused hand on the boy's cheek. "His sessions will only be on Wednesday and Saturday evenings and will be conducted in my office at Hogwarts. He won't know we are at the estate or that this cottage even exists."

Harry gave another little hiccup and Severus could not help but to smile a little inside. The boy seemed all of five, rather than fifteen.

"I guess that'll be okay…for Draco's sake."

"Thank you, Harry."

Severus arose and offered a helping hand to Harry. "Would you like me to help clear your mind before bed?"

Harry sniffed one last time before he gave a weak smile, "I suppose…but you know what would really help to clear my mind?"

"What is that?"

"Could you tell me about you and Mum?"

Severus gave his son a broad smile. He could get used to this...as long as it was in private. "Of course I can, Harry."

Harry and Severus sat close to each other on the sofa. Harry listened as his father regaled him with stories of the mother he never had a chance to know. This story was one where Mr Evans had taken him, Lily, and even Petunia on a fishing trip on some river whose name he couldn't remember.

Harry laughed when Severus told him how Petunia had dropped her pole and ran off screaming in terror when she managed to catch a Water Snake instead of a fish.

Harry asked if Severus or Lily had anything to do with it, and Severus only replied with a soft snort of insult.

Funny…Harold Evans asked that same question.

After an hour or so, Harry began to drift off to sleep and Severus never had the chance to help Harry Occlude. It did not matter. Harry was in a peaceful sleep. To Severus' astonishment, Harry had actually fallen asleep in his shoulder.

Severus propped his legs on the coffee table before him. He slowly reached for a throw pillow, taking care not to wake Harry. Severus put the pillow in his lap and gently lowered his son's head.

Harry stirred slightly, but quickly settled down as his body discovered it was in a more comfortable position. When Severus was certain his son was once again sound asleep, he leaned back into the sofa and allowed his own slumber to overtake him.

"Severus! Hurry up! …They're going to be here soon!" Harry cried impatiently as he pounded on his father's bedroom door with his free hand. He was holding fast to his Firebolt with the other.

"I'm right here, Harry," Severus said evenly as he opened his bedroom door. He had his hair pulled back with a black silken hair tie and had donned his light weight flying robes. He picked up the two new pairs of flying gloves that sat on the side-table. Harry watched curiously as his father slipped on one of the pairs, tugging one finger at a time. The gloves were made from very expensive Graphorn hide.

"These are for you." Severus tossed the second pair of the greyish-purple gloves to Harry. Harry caught the gloves instinctively, and stared at them as if he were trying to discern exactly what Severus had given him. "You do realise that they aren't due to arrive for another forty-five minutes."

Severus grabbed his broom from its new self from behind the door. He gave Harry a patronising pat on the shoulder as he manoeuvred his way past his son. Harry still remained transfixed in his spot. "You're the one in a hurry…let's go."

Over the past few days, Severus had come to realise how much he had truly misjudged Harry over the years. Other than the boy's unruly mop of hair, he did not resemble the reviled James Potter in the least. Albus had been correct in his comparison of Harry to Lily. The boy was almost unfailingly kind and forgiving…and it was not a false kindness that was meant to manipulate others to achieve an ends or to pacify or patronise. Harry's kindness was born of true empathy for others, just as Lily's had been. And because this kindness was genuine, it was by no means cloying or insufferable. Once Severus began to know him, he found Harry a truly pleasant person to be around.

Severus also came to realise that Harry was also very much his son as well. What Severus had once mistaken for Potter's arrogance in Harry, was actually Severus' own stubborn pride. Once Harry had it in his head that he was going to accomplish something, the boy took on his responsibility full-bore, his Occlumency lessons being a case in point. Harry was still a novice, but he was also a fast learner when he put his mind to something and the fact that the boy could throw off an Imperius Curse at the tender age of fourteen testified volumes to the fact that Harry had the strength of mind to someday be a very powerful Occlumens…just like his father. Severus couldn't help but to feel pride for his son. Harry followed the direction that Severus gave him and asked relevant questions. It was a shame that Severus had been so blinded to Harry's potential in the past.

Harry had picked up on Severus' pride and it was obvious that Harry was trusting Severus more as the days passed. Severus had given Harry permission to explore the estate and Harry had actually sought him out for advice when it came to finding his plants for his Potion's homework. More importantly, Harry came to Severus for guidance for his Occlumency. Severus knew of no words to describe that feeling. It was odd…to have someone depend upon him.

Severus was halfway down the stairs when Harry finally came out of his trance. "Hey…thanks, Severus! These are brilliant," Harry exclaimed as he ran to catch up.

Ever since he took Harry to explore the manor house, it was all the boy could do to keep himself from losing control of his bodily functions whenever he talked of having his friends over.

It truly was a good day, despite the company Severus was going to be forced to keep.

Severus awaited his son patently on the porch. "If you're in such a hurry, Harry, we can always take the Floo," he offered as he looked out over the picturesque countryside.

Severus was nearly knocked from his feet as Harry came running from behind his him. To Severus' horror, in one graceful motion, the boy jumped off the high porch and mounted his broom in mid-air. He flew out a few metres and turned about to hover just in front of Severus.

"Yeah…but why Floo…when you can fly!" Harry taunted then took off to the sky like a bolt of lightning.

"HARRY! YOU WON'T GET TO THE MANOR FLYING THAT DIRECTION!" Severus shouted up to his son as the boy made a 180° vertical climb.

Not to be outdone by his own son, Severus pushed off on his broom from a standing start and leaned forward in an effort to match Harry's ascent.

Harry was still fifty meters above Severus when the boy broke his climb and dove in the direction of the lake. Severus abruptly broke his ascent as well and banked around to follow his son. They met approximately one-hundred fifty meters above the lake.

They were flying horizontal now at matching break-neck speed…but not for long. Harry took a sideways glace at his father. Severus knew something was up when he saw the gleam in Harry's eyes and his mischievous grin.

Severus was taken aback for a moment. The eyes were definitely Lily's…but the sly grin...that was pure Severus.

Severus did not have time to ponder upon the ramifications of that, when Harry took a spiralling nose dive towards the lake. Determined not to be bested by his son's acrobatics, Severus made his descent end over end…backwards. It was quite a feat to do without becoming entangled in a mass of robes.

Severus had only done a half-dozen flips when he broke off, thinking that he had handily surpassed his son. But then his heart nearly froze when he saw that Harry was still spiralling towards the surface of the lake. Harry was going too fast. There was no way he would be able to pull out before he hit the lake. At the rate Harry was descending, he might as well crash into solid stone rather than the far-too-shallow lake. Severus brandished his wand in an attempt to save his son…but it was too late…or it would have been if Harry hadn't defied the laws of physics in mid-air and pulled out at the last second. The boy had cut it so close that the tips of his trainers broke the water's surface.

Well, Severus decided that was enough excitement for him in one day...now that Harry had effectively given him full-blown heart failure. Harry was still dangling his toes in the water when Severus flew over beside him and gestured forcefully towards the manor. Harry looked confused when he no doubt saw Severus' soured expression, but to the boy's credit, he did what he was told and made a beeline for the manor house. His friends would soon be there. That is if Severus didn't end up calling the whole damn thing off!

Harry approached the manor with wide wonder. It may not have been as big as Hogwarts, but to Harry, it was just as magical. Earlier in the week he had actually toured the main house with his father for the first time, but Harry knew he would always find the house awe-inspiring no matter how many times he came.

The manor was built from exquisite English limestone. The roof was blue slate with copper ornamentation. The façade was a colonnade, with the largest steeple tower in the centre. The grand entrance was within the centre of this tall tower. On the left of this rectangular tower was a semi- cylindrical glass-walled stair tower. To the right, the glass roofed winter garden jutted out from the façade.

Surely Draco Malfoy would pee himself if he ever saw this place. Harry doubted that the Malfoy Manor was this grand. He wondered if the Queen even lived in something so spectacular.

Harry flew over the circular lily-pond that graced the front courtyard and landed in front of the entry to the manor. Severus landed directly beside him. Despite his father's hair being pulled back, he looked as windswept as Harry. He did not look as happy, however.

"DON'TEVERDOTHATTOMEAGAIN!" Severus bellowed in one breath as he approached Harry in a thunderous fury.

"What did I do?" Harry honestly did not know what he had done wrong.

"That…over the lake." Severus was pointing at the lake as if Harry could see himself in an instant replay. Harry was looking as if there was something to see. "If I ever see you pull a stunt like that again…I'll…I'll ban you from Quidditch!"

"And this from the man who was flipping arse over cauldron!" Harry glared back at his father and defended himself.

"I had enough common sense to pull out before my broom could not right itself…And mind your cheek with me young man." Severus said dangerously as he opened the front entry. "I can still send your friends back, you know and ground you…literally."

"I'm sorry, alright." Harry did not want to test his father's patience. It was a virtue that Severus Snape was not known for…at least when it came to grandiose teenage stunts like that. Not that his dad hadn't just pulled one himself, mind you. But Harry had to admit, he couldn't have pulled it off if he wasn't on his Firebolt.

"If you had any real brains, Harry…you would have at least waited for me to change my Will before you tried to kill me with a heart attack."

"I'm sorry…I promise not to do it again." In front of you, anyway, Harry added silently to himself.

"I had better not find out otherwise." Severus warned ominously. "And dry your trainers would you." Severus was not so much worried about the Italian inlay floors…but he was afraid that he would hex his own child if the infernal squishing didn't stop.

Severus wasn't normally so high-strung, but he nearly jumped out of his pants out the sound of displaced air as a house-elf popped into the room.

Cassie, the Head Elf of Prince Manor had come to greet her master and his son. "Master Severus, sir. Young Master Harry, may I takes your brooms," she offered with an air of dignity.

Her voice was just as annoyingly shrill as other house elves, but she did not dance around and kowtow like so many others. Severus found her one of the few elves he could deal with without being totally exasperated.

"Thank you, Cassie," Severus said equably as he and Harry presented their brooms. She took them and the brooms disappeared directly from her hands.

The little She-Elf did not try to punish herself at her master's expressed appreciation. This was another trait of this particular elf Severus was grateful for.

"All of the rooms are ready for the arrival of your friends, Young Master Harry," she squeaked. "Bob will be assigned to see to the needs of your friends during their stay."

Harry looked over at his father as Severus unfastened his cloak. "'Bob'? You have a house-elf named 'Bob'?"

Severus almost choked on his amusement. "No…you have a house elf named Bob. Bob is the newest elf here." Severus tried to explain through his suppressed mirth. He was in the process of hanging his cloak in a nearby cupboard. "Your mother named him…she did not like many of the more traditional Elvin nam…"

*POP*

Severus jumped.

*POP*

An elf popped out of nowhere, took Severus cloak and disappeared again before he even had a chance to hang it.

"CASSIE! …Be so kind as to tell the other elves to stop that! The next elf that takes something out of my hands in such a manner will find themselves being fitted at Gladrag's for an entire wardrobe… Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master Severus, sir. Cassie will make sure to tell them," she said, unaffected by the threat. "Wills you and Young Master and guests be having dinner in the grand dining room, sir?"

Severus ascended the spiral staircase, quickly followed by Harry and Cassie. "No…I think perhaps in the winter garden. Do you know how many to expect?"

"Yes sir…eleven for lunch and five young guests of Young Master's to stays for weekend."

"Thank you, Cassie…that will be all for now," Severus said as he stopped his ascent just long enough to dismiss his servant and the little elf popped away to supervise the preparations.

"Bob?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes…Bob," Severus emphasised sarcastically. As if Harry had never heard the name 'Bob' before.

Severus turned to face his son, and he could feel his lips purse tightly in irritation. He thought Harry was past this. Severus sharply tapped his wand on Harry's head and the boy's windswept hair was neat once again. He just hoped his hair wouldn't be shambolic again before they reached the library.

"Ouch," Harry protested. The boy rubbed the spot where the wand made contact and Harry succeeded in messing up his hair again.

Five seconds…A new record, Severus thought derisively.

"Will you stop that?" Severus said in exasperation as he smacked Harry's hand away so he could straighten the boy's hair again. He had half a mind to cast a Sticking Charm on the boy's hair.

Severus then performed a grooming spell on his own hair.

When Severus was satisfied that he had done all he could to make him and his son presentable, he ordered, "Come, Harry," and with long strides, Severus marched his way through the sitting room. When he realised Harry was having to rush in order to keep up, Severus slowed his pace to allow his son to catch up.

Severus' sitting room wasn't exactly a sitting room. It was more like a collection of seating arrangements that extended along the length of the long second floor balcony that looked over the vast expanse of the estate and to nearby Goblin Combe. The entire room was centred around a massive marble fireplace that was almost long enough to accommodate a felled tree. At the far end of the sitting room were the double English oak doors that opened into the library. The doors opened of their own volition as they approached and Severus announced, "It's time to greet your guests."

Sirius Black was the last of Harry's lunch guests to come through the Floo. He stepped through across the hearth with his broom in hand. He casually observed the small crowd of people before him. His was the only face, other than Snape's, that did not seem impressed by the opulence before him. Hell…Hermione Granger was on the second landing of the library, looking as if she could cry from happiness. The Weasley children were staring out the French doors gawking at the expansive flying space outside.

If it wasn't for his devotion for Harry, Sirius could have happily stayed walled up inside Grimmauld Place for the rest of his life without seeing the inside of one of Severus Snape's homes. He had come close to calling Molly Weasley a liar when she told him that he had received an invitation to Snape's manor. Sirius had half a mind to write Snape and tell him where to stick his invitation when Molly had said the invitation was at Harry's behest. Hell Hounds couldn't keep Sirius away then. Besides, it was his chance to check in on how Snape was treating Harry.

"Sirius…I'm so glad you could come!" Harry ran up and embraced him happily before Sirius even had the chance to step on Snape's Persian carpet. It was a greeting Sirius hadn't expected after their last botched meeting.

"Do you honestly believe that I would ever turn down an invitation from you?" Sirius smiled genuinely as he greeted his godson.

No…Hell Hounds wouldn't keep him away. No matter how much time he had to spend with Snape in the bargain.

Severus' eyes narrowed as he observed the interaction between Harry and his god-mutt from across the library. He had to suppress the urge to hex the cur where he stood. Luckily, the Weasley patriarch interrupted Severus' musings.

"Severus…you have a lovely home," Arthur commented as he studied the massive stone bas-relief over the fireplace mantel.

The marble relief was that of a mounted nobleman, rumoured to be the twin brother of a French king. Phillip Prince was never able to substantiate the claim. And since history could account for the Sun King and the Duke of Orléans, the story was highly suspect to say the least.

But according to family legend, Phillip's death was feigned by his own father after the young Dauphiné's first fit of accidental magic at the tender age of three. The legend goes on to say that he was passed over in favour of his younger twin and replaced by a cousin, but none of the family journals seemed to be able to account for the differences in age.

The French monarchs were staunch Catholics and to have a wizard as an heir would have seriously jeopardized their standing with the Pope, who legitimized their power to the people. Apparently, the young prince was spirited away to be raised by a nun and Franciscan monk for nearly thirteen years. Phillip then reportedly ran away to England after making off with over half of the French treasury. Phillip, or rather Philippe, only wanted the money. He left the headaches of fighting a series of wars with the Dutch and the struggles of feeding a starving peasantry to his brother, Louis.

Smart man.

Unfortunately for the French monarchy, Louis' issue did not fare as well as Phillip's. Prince lore also states that it was Phillip who cursed his own family to having only one son, so that the inheritance would never be questioned. To Severus, that made absolutely no sense either. It was too much of a risk that the blood-line would die out. Chances are, about ninety-five percent of the tales were false. It made for a great story, but dismissing it totally could not account for how the Prince's came into their vast wealth or the fact that the entirety of the Prince blood-line consisted of men who were only children... at least until Severus' mother broke the trend. To Severus, the man immortalised in stone over his library hearth remained a great enigma.

"…you can see the family resemblance after all this time."

Severus almost didn't catch the last part of Arthur's statement.

Severus mused aloud, "Ah…yes…No mistaking the nose." Most people assumed that Severus inherited his nose from his father. Indeed, Severus had come to believe it himself. But every time he stared up at Louis XIV's doppelganger (there really was an uncanny resemblance), he could not help but wonder who was really at fault for his ponderous proboscis.

It only then registered that Arthur was standing right next to him.

"I do apologise, Arthur. My mind was elsewhere. It was kind of you to join us on your lunch break," Severus acknowledged stiffly with a slight nod of his head. "We customarily stay at the cottage, however, with such a large gathering and the children staying for the weekend, it seemed prudent to stay here."

Severus did not care for the manor house himself. The years that he had spent under the care of his grandfather were not pleasant. Yet someday the massive estate would belong to Harry. Severus was determined that his son would be blessed with more pleasant memories of his ancestral home than Severus had been.

Severus watched Harry as he affectionately conversed with his god-dog. Severus had hated to invite Black, but there was nothing he wouldn't do to assure his son's happiness, even if it meant stomaching a loathsome visit by the dingy mutt.

Harry then turned to the rest of his guests with an enthusiastic smile. "Come on guys… leave your brooms here and let's tucker into some lunch."

On their way back down to the conservatory, Severus followed soberly behind his son's guests while Harry happily chirped away to his friends about all of the wonders he had discovered on the Prince estate since his arrival.

Severus took keen interest as to what his son had to say.

Harry told young Mr Weasley and Ms Granger that the estate was the perfect place they could find their potions ingredients for their summer project. In his wanderings, Harry had found hellebore, yellow root, primroses, yew trees, countless species of ferns, lichens and mushrooms...and daisies, which for some odd reason Harry seemed to find highly amusing.

His son was still chatting away as the group made their way down the stairs and across the entry foyer. "…And just over that far copse, there are some brilliant caves with these really strange mushrooms …I've been meaning to ask Severus about them," Harry babbled on.

Severus made a mental note that he would have to speak to Harry about his spelunking.

"Where are we, Harry?" Ms Granger asked conversationally.

Harry turned and asked Severus as he led his friends past the limestone arches and into the conservatory, "Yeah, exactly where are we, Severus?"

"North Somerset…Bristol is the closest city of note."

"Oh and guys—I'm glad everyone brought their brooms!" Harry turned around and walked backwards so he could continue to speak to the Weasley children. "There's a Quidditch Pitch."

Severus sighed heavily. Now he was going to have to speak to the boy about proper behaviour in front of guests. But it was too late to address his son's disagreeable habits now. Severus was not about to admonish Harry in front Black, Lupin, and the Weasley adults, thereby opening himself up to criticism.

"No way!" Young Mr Weasley tactlessly exclaimed with his mouth agape. He and his siblings looked back disbelievingly at Severus, as if they weren't certain they were in the right place.

Apparently, no one from Grimmauld Place thought they were in the right place when the noticed where they were having lunch. Even the adults had the same undignified, gobsmacked looks as the children did.

They were going to dine in an indoor garden. The circular room was alive with palms, tropical plants, and flowers. From the limestone arches that lined the circumference of the room, oak buttresses protruded as if they grew out from the stone. The buttresses supported the high glass dome and from those, hung several wrought iron lanterns, alight, and warmly glowing through their opaque glass.

In the middle of the stunning room was a long glass and wrought iron table that was tastefully set. It zigzagged to make conversation between the many guests all the easier.

*POP*

Severus had to fight to keep from smiling as he felt his lip twitch when the entire population of Grimmauld Place jumped as they were startled by the entrance of his elf. Severus couldn't understand why. Though he had never seen it, apparently Grimmauld Place had a house-elf lurking about somewhere. Severus wondered where it might be hiding or if it had recently found a spot on that gruesome wall. But that would mean asking Black and Severus wasn't that curious.

"Welcome guests of Young Master Harry," Cassie greeted airily with her high-pitched voice. "Please makes yourselves comfortable and enjoy yours lunch." She then pulled out chair for Molly Weasley.

Everyone took a seat at the table. Black was seated at the far opposite end from Severus. This was not only because Severus wanted to be as far away from the mutt as possible. Black was the head of the visiting household. It was simple etiquette to seat him opposite the host.

Once everyone was seated and had become more comfortable with their surroundings, to Severus' chagrin, lunch had become just as boisterous affair as it ever was at Grimmauld Place. But Harry was happy. That Severus could give his son this small happiness made it all worthwhile.

"Harry…"said Ronald through a mouthful of his Sheppard's pie. Didn't Molly teach her kits any basic table manners? "Do you think we could play a pickup game of Quidditch while Sirius and Remus are still here?"

"Ronald Weasley. You know better than to talk with your mouth full, young man."

Finally! Molly said something. It was about time. The young Weasley had the good sense to look embraced at his mother's admonishment before such a large gathering.

Harry looked to Severus hopefully. "Can we, Severus?"

Severus shook his head in answer. "The Pitch is within the cottage grounds," he explained. "There is no way that your friends will make it past the Blood Wards.

"There must be some way," Harry pressed. "Mum was able to get through."

Severus was about to answer when the twins broke in. "It doesn't matter anyway, Harry…" said young George or Fredrick. Severus wasn't quite certain which had spoken. "We only have seven players. We need one more if we're going…

"…to have one player per position," his brother had finished.

Then the wolf had to open hi big-fat mouth. "Why don't you join in, Severus? That would give us two Seekers."

If Severus' and Black's eyes were shooting real daggers…Lupin would be a dead man. The teens…with the exception of Harry…were staring agape again at their professor. Perhaps it was a sort of physical defect? What did Molly feed the children?

"Come on, Severus," Harry pleaded. "I know you can get them past the wards."

Those damned eyes! Severus could feel it now. He was becoming an overindulgent parent already. At this rate, he would have Harry as spoiled as Draco Malfoy by the start of term. But Severus had never been able to say 'no' to those eyes when they looked at him like that…Not to Lily and apparently not to their son either. Lily had discovered that early on. Severus just prayed that Harry wouldn't.

"I will have one of the house-elves find the Portkey," he begrudgingly acquiesced.

"YES!" Harry and his ginger friend exclaimed. The twins were giving each other high fives and young Ms Weasley was practically bouncing out of her chair. The only Weasley girl was just as much of a Quidditch hoodlum as her older brothers. Apparently, none of the teenagers cared that the game was to include Hogwarts' most hated professor, as long as they had a chance to play Quidditch.

It didn't take long for Cassie to find the Portkey, the only way someone not of Prince blood could make it through the wards.

The Quidditch Match the evening before had been brilliant. Harry, Sirius, Ron and Fred had played against Severus, Remus, Ginny and George.

Hermione and Mrs Weasley had sat in the grass as cheering spectators. Mr Weasley had not stayed to watch because he had to be back to his job at the Ministry.

"Too bad we can't tell anybody about the game," Ron said wistfully.

Harry and his friends were sitting at a table on the library terrace under a shaded canopy, studying and enjoying the afternoon. The massive stone structure encompassed the centre third of the west side of the manor. Fifty people could do lunch on the terrace. They had all just returned from helping Ron and Hermione find their Potion's plants.

"I know…who would have ever guessed that Professor Snape was so good at Quidditch," said Ginny as she helped Hermione lace her daisy chain. "If Harry wasn't on a faster broom, I think the professor may have caught the Snitch.

"I imagine that there is a lot about the professor that we don't know," said Hermione sagely.

Harry grinned impishly, pondering if he should share his little secret.

The twins sniffed out the potential intrigue right off. It wasn't the first time Harry wondered how the sly pair didn't end up in Slytherin House.

Fred and George goaded, "Fess up Harry…give us the goods on your Old Man,"

"Well…" Harry leaned into the table and looked around as if someone might be listening…namely Severus.

Harry knew Severus would kill if he found out that Harry had divulged this very personal information, but right now Harry didn't care. He had to tell someone or he would bust. "Remember how I told you how I went exploring those caves the other day," he practically whispered.

"Yeah…so what's he got up there?" Ron asked, clearly drawn in by the mystery.

"Does he have a secret torture chamber for his Troll students?" Fred asked.

"Or maybe that's where he hides his concubines," suggested George, wagging his eyebrows.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth trying to suppress a giggle. Ginny smacked her older brother over the head and chastised him. "Stop that George…Let Harry finish."

Harry was trying not to laugh himself. "No…it's nothing like that," He said through his own stifled giggles. "But when I came home, Severus thought he was alone…I discovered something very interesting…" he said conspiringly.

"What?" asked his friends at once as they leaned farther into the table, hanging onto Harry's every word.

Harry looked over his shoulder once again, then turned and whispered to his friends, "Severus fancies Muggle music," Harry said scandalously.

"Muggle music?" His friends gasped in unison.

"Yeah…" Harry was excited now. He felt like he would explode if he didn't tell his friends everything. "But not just any Muggle music…it was American Muggle music. I could tell because the guy singing had one of those funny American accents."

"You've got to be yanking our chains, Harry," said Ron in disbelief.

Harry shook his head. "That's not the best part…you see, Severus was in his lab, just inside his office. He didn't know that I had come home. I heard this music playing really loud. I kind of recognized who it was, but I can't remember his name. But I recognised the voice from that American show on the telly," Harry then turned to Hermione, "Do you know the one I'm talking about, Hermione? My cousin watches it on Sky 1 every Saturday. The one with the flying orange car."

"Ooo, I know which one you're talking about, Harry," Hermione said with a mix of excitement and frustration. "I can hear the theme song in my head, but I don't watch the telly that much. I can't think of the name."

Harry shrugged off her ignorance but didn't begrudge it. After all, he was clueless too.

"Anyway," Harry said and continued with his tale. "I realized that there was someone else singing. So I snuck into his office and peeked into his lab…and get this…Dad was chopping his potions ingredients…and singing!"

Harry would remember those lyrics for as long as he lived. Harry had all of his friends in stiches, and Ron was literally rolling on the floor with laughter as Harry tried to imitate Severus' singing.

There ain't no good in an evil hearted woman…

And I ain't cut out to be no Jesse James…

And you don't go writing hot checks down in Mississippi …

And there ain't no good chain gang…

"NO WAY!" Everyone exclaimed at once.

"Did he catch you?" Hermione asked fearfully. She had turned pale, as if her life was at risk for knowing such secrets.

"Nope…" Harry said smugly as he shook his head. "I snuck back out and then came back in making a lot of noise so he would hear me…he stopped the music right off and acted as if nothing happened."

Fred and George were grinning at each other. This was blackmail fodder if they ever heard it and Harry knew it.

"I would have paid good Galleon's to see that," Fred laughed.

"If it ever happened at Hogwarts," George said, "Try to let us know. We'll sell tickets."

"Can he sing?" asked Ginny curiously.

"Yeah…he was actually pretty goo…"

*POP*

"AHH!" The mass of teenagers all startled at once. Nobody was used to house-elves just popping in and out in the middle of conversations…they all thought that it might have been Severus. Harry didn't put it past his father to Apparate into the middle of a circle of teenagers just to see if they were up to no good.

They all breathed collective sigh of relief.

This little house-elf was not as wrinkled as most others of his kind and his pointed ears stood erect. He was young, inexperienced, and eager to please.

Hermione was still uncomfortable about being waited upon by a bonded house-elf, but Severus had explained that he had once naively offered his elves freedom and a salary if they so desired, but they had refused. The retribution they had taken out on Severus for even mentioning such a dishonour was so terrible, that Severus was never tempted to do so again. Harry recalled his father mumbling about an allergy to starch and ineffective rash ointments under his breath, but Severus refused to give any further details.

"Young Master Harry?" Bob looked about nervously, as if debating if he would have to punish himself for causing his young master and his guests to lose control of their bodily functions.

"Bob is sorry for scaring the Young Master and his friends, sir. Bob only wants to knows where Young Master and his friends would cares to haves their lunch?" Bob held his gaze down and brushed his foot in circles on the stone terrace floor as he awaited an answer.

"That's alright, Bob," Harry said gently. He didn't want to scare the little elf into punishing himself. Hermione would have a Kneazle. "We'll just have our lunch right out here."

Harry and his friends enjoyed the rest of that beautiful summer day under the shade of the terrace. It was a very good day.

It would be the last good day Harry would have for some time to come

That night had been a restless one for Harry. He had a headache almost all night. Well…not really a headache…it was more like an entire face-ache.

He tossed and turned all night, never getting out of bed, not wanting to chance waking up Ron and not really knowing if it was okay to disturb his father in the middle of the night. So Harry spent an uncomfortable night, impatiently waiting for morning so he could ask his father for a Pain Draught.

Harry finally rolled himself out of bed when he heard Ron stir. Ron was already dressed because he knew Bob had breakfast ready on the library terrace every morning at eight o'clock.

Harry gingerly pushed himself up from bed and placed a hand over his eyes, squeezing his temples with his thumb and fingers. He hadn't yet reached for his glasses as he removed his hand from his face and squinted. He gave his eyes some time to adjust to the harsh morning light that streamed through the panes of centuries-old leaded glass.

He did not know why, but Harry could feel Ron's eyes fixed on him. He continued to squint as he looked up to see Ron's blurry form standing before him.

Harry's gut twisted when Ron said, "Bloody hell, Harry," in grim amazement.

Harry grabbed for glasses from the side table and shoved them on his face "What...What's the matter?"

"Your face, Harry…Look in the mirror at your face!"

"What's wrong with my face?" Harry said in alarm as he put his hands to his face to feel if it had broken out in boils or something.

His face hadn't broken out in boils, but something felt off. He ran over to the full size mirror that stood next to his dressing screen.

Harry stared into the mirror in disbelief. When he finally voice it cracked when he said, "Ron…Go get my dad."

It didn't even occur to Harry that he had called Severus dad, only that he needed his dad right now.

It wasn't supposed to happen this quickly. Harry thought he would have a whole year.

What are we going to do now?

The door flew open as Severus barged into Harry's room with his son's friends fast on his heels. Severus had been disturbed in the middle dressing when Mr Weasley interrupted him, pounding frantically on his bedroom door.

Severus didn't have to open the door, as Harry's best mate began yelling that Harry had undergone another change before Severus had the chance to. He threw his dressing gown over his bare-chest and his trousers before rushing to Harry's room.

Severus came up behind Harry and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. "Harry…show me your face."

Harry had his back turned to him and his head hung dejectedly. He was still looking in the mirror, but from the angle, Severus could not tell what his son was looking at.

"Dad…look at me," Harry said almost desperately, then turned to face Severus.

Severus was hit with a double blow that seemed to knock the air out of him. First, Harry had once again called him 'Dad'…and secondly, his son's face.

Harry's face had changed. At first glance…one could still recognise Harry Potter, especially if the boy wore his glasses. But it did not take a second glance to notice that there was something was strikingly different.

Harry still had his mother's almond shaped, emerald eyes. However, with his glasses off, one could see that they were set deeper. Harry's jaw line was still close to what James Potter's had been at the same age but his cheekbones were now higher. His nose was also longer and more aquiline, much as Severus' had once been before it was broken by his dear grandfather.

If alone, the casual observer might believe that Harry was a teenager who was simply growing into his adult features, maybe some that he had picked up from a distant relative. But standing next to Severus…the similarity was unmistakable.

Severus took his son's face in hand and studied him. Despite the fact it was obvious that Severus had contributed to the boy's genetic makeup, thanks to Lily, Harry would become an impressively handsome young man. At the same time Severus' heart swelled with pride, his mind raced with concern.

One thing had become certain. Severus' days as a mole were as of that moment, at an end. There would be no denying this to the Dark Lord. There was no denying Harry was Harry, and no denying he was Severus' son. Once term began, word would spread like Fiendfyre. Severus had to speak to Albus immediately.

"Dad, what are we going to do?" Harry asked in desperation.

Severus took in a sharp inhalation of air. The accolade washed through him like a rush of warm water. Only then did Severus find the voice to answer.

"I am afraid there is nothing much we can do, Harry," Severus told his son. "There is no magic that can hide your appearance effectively enough."

Harry was upon the onset of panic when he asked, "Can I use Polyjuice or something? Dad…everyone is going to know!"

"Polyjuice would be useless in your situation, Harry," Severus explained. "You cannot take the potion only to change back into yourself. Moreover, we do not know if this is your last change. Taking Polyjuice Potion under these circumstances is extremely dangerous."

Harry asked miserably, "What are we going to tell people? They're going to notice."

Harry had asked a good question. The Princes and Potters did have one common female ancestor, but that was too far back to explain the similarity. However, there was no denying Harry now had unmistakable Snape features. His cheekbones and forehead were all Snape. Nothing in the boy's wizarding ancestry could explain that fact.

If it wasn't for the fact that the change was so sudden, some in the wizarding world might believe a distant kinship through a grandmother, but it would never fool those who matter…unfortunately given Severus' past with Lily Evans, they would know better.

"I will have to go over the options with the Headmaster," Severus said evenly. "Trust me, Harry…everything will be alright."

Severus only wished he could believe it himself. Harry only silently nodded.

"Get dressed and come down for breakfast," Severus said softly. "There is no reason to let this ruin the rest of your weekend."

"Severus, my boy…if you don't quit your incessant pacing, you're going to wear a path into the carpeting."

Severus stopped in mid-stride and gave Albus one of his more deadly glares. When the old man continued to stare back at him, unaffected from behind his half-moon glasses, Severus threw up his hands in defeat and inelegantly plopped himself down in his regular chair in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"I fail to see how you can remain so calm after what I just told you," Severus said as he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and began to rub his temple in a vain effort to relieve his emerging headache. "Other than baring Harry from returning to Hogwarts, I have no idea how we're going to keep this a secret."

Albus sighed as he began to pour out tea. "Yes…this latest transformation did come at us rather like rogue Bludger. But I'm afraid putting him in hiding would cause at least as many problems as it would solve. If Harry goes into hiding, no doubt we would have to do the same for the Weasleys and the Grangers. Voldemort would not hesitate to decimate any number of families, just because their children might be a tenuous acquaintance, and therefor might have some small clue as to where the boy might be."

Severus leaned forward in his chair. He supported himself with his forearms on his thighs and wrung his hands as he thought. As much as he hated to admit it, Albus was right. Putting Harry into hiding would create a logistical nightmare…not to mention Harry would never stand for it.

Severus saw the Headmaster's hand place a cup of tea on the side table, but Severus sit did not sit up.

From behind him, he heard the Headmaster say, "It seems to me…the best course of action would to say nothing and see where the chips may fall before we act rashly."

Severus sat up and turned in his chair, his arm leaning across the top. "Are you daft, Old Man? You know the rumours will begin to fly about the castle faster than any Owl." Severus then righted himself in his chair and fell back into it gracelessly and sighed, "And you know many of the rumours will be cruel."

Severus felt the wizened hand on his shoulder before he saw it. The Headmaster sagely said, "I know…but they are only words and…"

"Words can cut deeper than any sword! Children can be vicious, Albus! Not to mention whatever dreck that lying Hag, Skeeter, will undoubtedly print!" Severus spat.

Ironically, it was Harry's classmates that Severus worried over more than the Dark Lord at this moment. Severus would answer no more Summons. And thanks to his skills with Occlumency, he need not worry about being Imperiused through his Mark and compelled to kill is son as did the others.

Once the Dark Lord became aware of Severus' defection, Severus knew he would become a hunted man. It was a risk that everyone…including Harry, agreed had to be taken. Being ousted as Harry Potter's real father would do nothing to lessen or augment that danger. Well…there was a slight chance that Severus would oust Harry for the number-one spot on the Dark Lord's hit list, but that was a good thing as far as Severus was concerned. Even if he wasn't Harry's father, his defection would at least rate Severus the number-two spot.

Severus could not brew that Potion. He couldn't sabotage it to make it ineffective either…that was certain death. If he hadn't just become a new father, it was a sacrifice Severus would have once made. There wasn't even a way to turn the Potion into a poison, as it required two Bezoars, used to counteract the toxic effects of many of the other ingredients. And as Bezoars left a distinctive colour and odour that any Second-year was aware of, he couldn't leave them out. It was why many medicinal Potions tasted like dirty socks.

But Severus wasn't thinking about the Dark Lord's Potion at that particular moment. He was worried about Harry. Severus was never popular, either in his youth or as an adult. It had bothered him as a school boy, but he had developed a rather thick skin since then and had come to care little for the opinions of others, except for the Headmaster's and perhaps a little of his fellow Heads of House .

Harry had enough problems to deal with. Severus didn't want bullying and ostracism to be added amongst them just because Harry had the dubious distinction of being his son. Once Rita Skeeter caught wind of the story…as she no doubt would… her scandal-mongering stories would only fan the flames. He shuddered to think of the fabrications she would create. Either Severus would be made out to be a rapist, or Lily would be made out to be a whore. The truth didn't matter. It never did with sensationalists like Rita Skeeter.

What was he thinking when he wanted to scream from the rooftops that Harry was his son?

The reality of the situation stared Severus in the face that morning. Harry had not only awakened to find himself looking more like a young Severus, he had called Severus, 'Dad'. To Severus' astonishment and immense joy, Harry had continued to call him by the name even after the boy's initial shock wore off.

If the truth be known, Severus had been waiting for this day with almost giddy anticipation, but Severus could not find it in himself to celebrate. True, Severus felt a sense of fatherly pride and he wanted show everyone that he was capable of creating something as beautiful as his son. But he was now painfully aware as to what repercussions his son would have to face. Severus would not sacrifice his son's happiness for his own hubris.

"Severus?"

Severus' morose thoughts were interrupted by the Headmaster. He simply looked up and locked eyes with Albus, and waited to hear what he had to say.

"I did not intend to imply that Harry would be unaffected by taunting. As Headmaster, I promise to do everything within my power to insure that anyone who bullies him will be punished."

Severus took to scanning the room and studying the portraits of the former Headmasters. They were all sitting in some form of repose. He knew from the unnatural rhythm of their papery snores, that they were listening to every word being said.

"Fat lot of good that'll do," Severus mumbled under his breath, recalling his own victimisation by the Marauders as a schoolboy.

The Headmaster said, resigned, "True…unfortunately we cannot be everywhere at once. And I'm sorry I was not as…strict…with James and Sirius as I should have been." He then turned and once again met Severus' eyes. "But Harry will survive this setback just as he has his others. Perhaps even better…because this time, he will not only have the support of his true friends, but that of his father as well."

The Headmaster's 'apology' did nothing for Severus but stir-up burning resentment in the pit of his belly. He'd like to tell Albus what he could do with his apology and his promise of protection for Harry, when their conversation was interrupted.

The gentle burning embers in the Headmaster's hearth suddenly flashed a brilliant green.

"Dumbledore?" the all-too familiar drawl inquired.

Severus had almost forgotten the initial reason he was in the Headmaster's office to begin with… Occlumency with Lucius Malfoy.

After a very long and trying day, Severus was finally ready to bury his weary head into his cool pillow.

He was grateful for the Headmaster's offer to use his office as a place to meet with and teach Lucius Occlumency. Between Harry's latest transformation and the fact that Severus had an Occlumency lesson with Lucius, the boy was balanced on a precarious edge. Severus was afraid that inviting Lucius into a home that now was as much Harry's as it was Severus' would push his son over the edge…whether Harry was present or not.

One of the most important things Severus came to find out about his son was that thanks to Petunia, her elephantine husband, and the equally bloated demon spawn they produced, Harry had never felt safe at the one place that should have been his home. Severus was trying his best to change that for Harry. He hoped to do this by providing Harry a clean slate and a firm foundation to build their new life upon. Severus wasn't about to jeopardise Harry's tenuous feelings of trust by inviting one of the primary causes of the boy's recent nightmares into their home.

The session between Severus and Lucius had gone well. Malfoy had a deep motivation to make Occlumency work. For all of Lucius' cold aloofness, he was even more devoted to his family than Severus was even aware. Severus had always considered the Malfoy marriage to be one of planned genetics and the merging of fortunes. He had always considered Lucius as a narcissist whose feelings for his wife never went beyond that of a trophy wife and the vessel of his heir, and Draco as insurance that the Malfoy line would live to see a new generation. Severus had never thought with all of the atrocities Malfoy had committed for his Dark Lord in the past, that the wizard actually deeply loved his wife and son.

Before that evening, Severus had no idea that although Lucius had agreed with the Dark Lord's views on Blood Purity and the superiority of Wizard over Muggle, he had never intended to subjugate himself to the Dark Lord, but rather he hoped to become an equal of sorts. Lucius had taken the Mark at the behest…or rather, threat of his dying father. He would either take the Mark…or lose his entire legacy to the Dark Lord and his cause. Fortunately for Lucius, the Dark Lord had never been made aware of that eleventh-hour caveat to Abraxas Malfoy's will. Lucius would have been dead long ago.

Lucius believed, and Severus had to agree to this point, that he was above being enslaved to the service of any wizard. He never hoped for the Dark Lord's return, but once it had happened, he made damn sure to ingratiate himself as closely as possible. If he was fated to be a slave, he would be an invaluable one if for no other reason than to insure his own family would never become a target. Lucius had just learned the hard way that no family was safe…and those of the Death Eater's, least of all.

Lucius was still having a hard time wrapping his brain around the fact that Severus had been a spy for the Light all this time. Having this assertion backed-up by none other than Albus Dumbledore went far to ease whatever doubts Lucius might have had concerning Severus' loyalties. Lucius couldn't stand the old coot, but he knew he could trust him.

Indeed, to insure that Lucius had no intention of selling out Severus, Albus insisted upon submitting Malfoy to Legilimency himself. In order to fool Albus, Lucius would have already needed to be a better Occlumens than Severus. But Lucius' intentions had turned out to be pure…as pure as any of Malfoy's intentions could be…so Severus took the first steps to teach Lucius Occlumency.

Unbelievably, Lucius' punishment at the hands of the Dark Lord could work to his advantage. The Dark Lord had already invaded Lucius' mind and found his thoughts treacherous. With luck, by the time the Dark Lord decided it was time for Lucius to sacrifice his son, he would be skilled enough in Occlumency to throw off the Dark Lord's Imperius Curse. The Dark Lord knew that Lucius was not the mysterious Occlumens. He would not waste his time focusing in Lucius so chances were good that simple shields would be enough until such time Lucius would be required to repay his debt…and the price would be a steep one. But even in his limited experience as a parent, Severus knew that there was no price too dear when it came to protecting one's child.

After downing a Pain Draught, Severus slipped beneath his comforter. He looked forward to a peaceful night's sleep after his long day. Harry's friends would be returning to Grimmauld Place after lunch the next day and Severus would have a few days of peace and quiet with his son at the cottage before they had to return to Hogwarts and finish readying for the coming term.

He finally drifted into a peaceful sleep.

It would not last long.

The occupants of Prince Manor had been sleeping peacefully for some time…with the exception of one.

Harry had been restless all night long. Sleep came harder to him this night than it had since he began learning Occlumency. His dad had been in earlier that night and helped Harry to clear his mind. It had worked…at least for a while. But then without warning, the events of the day came flooding in on him and Harry felt helpless to stop them. He kept seeing his new face…and imagining running into Lucius Malfoy in the manor corridors.

Harry had considered waking his dad more than once. But he was sharing a room with Ron and Harry knew he would just die of mortal embarrassment if his dad tucked him in like a toddler in front of his best friend.

Soon enough…Harry had not even realised he had fallen into a fitful sleep.

He looked out into the once grand and expansive hall, now dark and derelict with age. It was how he liked it. It suited what was left of his festering soul, though he did not know why. If he bothered to think of it, he would realise that like his soul…this walls of his new throne room were just as diseased as he was. The foundations had rotted away due to the ravages time, disuse, and neglect. Only the dingy, peeling, lead-poisoned paint seemed to tenuously hold together the crumbling walls.

He reached out with his pale, claw-like hand and touched the round face of his loyal minion in a gross mimicry of a loving touch.

"You have pleased me," he hissed. "And as the first…your reward shall be greatest."

He felt the spray of warm arterial blood across his face. The coppery smell and taste of the fresh pure-blood was almost orgasmic. Even without the Potion, he could feel its raw power course through him…purging him of his own weak Muggleness.

He looked down gleefully to Maximilian bending before the lifeless form of his only son, Vincent. Blood seeped from the grotesque gash that ringed his throat and Crabbe dutifully collected the blood to present to his Lord. On the floor next to him was the ruby stained tanto knife that the father had used to kill the son.

It was time to Summon his Potion's Master.

"AHHHH….AHHHH…AHHHH!"

Severus shot up out of a dead sleep. He threw off his covers and without even bothering to don his housecoat, he raced out of his bedroom and down the hallway in nothing but his pyjamas and his bare feet.

Instinct propelled him into his son's room.

"BLOODY HELL…HARRY…HARRY!"

Ronald Weasley was trying desperately to shake Harry out of a night terror. Even from as far away as the door, Severus could tell that Harry's scar was blood red.

"HARRY, WAKE UP…WAKE UP, HARRY!" Weasley cried as he continued to shake Harry.

Severus rushed to Harry's bedside. He gently cradled Harry's head between his hands and the boy's screaming ceased, though his still unconscious son continued to convulse.

"Harry…son…wake up!"

As Severus kept one hand on Harry's face, he attempted to hold down Harry's thrashing legs with his other hand to keep the boy from hurling himself out of bed, but he could not maintain enough leverage. He felt additional weight settle on the bed and looked up the see Ronald holding down Harry's flailing legs.

"What's wrong with him, Professor?" Weasley asked anxiously.

All of Harry's friends were now crowded around his bedroom door, staring at the scene playing out before them. Every one of them seemed to be frozen in their fear.

"Silence, Mr Weasley!" Severus snapped then growled at himself for his own short temper. The Weasley boy had done nothing wrong. It was a perfectly reasonable question.

Severus turned his attention back to Harry. He had to calm himself if he was going to help his son, and to do that he needed to focus. Mr Weasley's anxiety was doing nothing to help that.

"Harry?" said Severus in the most tranquil voice he could muster. "Can you hear me, son?"

That simple question seemed to work.

Harry's eyes snapped open. "Dad?" he cried out, obviously still uncertain if everything was real. "What happened?"

"That is precisely what I need to know," Severus said gently through his relief. Harry had returned to reality. Severus conjured a damp cloth and tenderly began to wipe the sweat off his son's forehead, taking special care around Harry's scar. "What did you see, son?"

Harry's eyes went frantic again as he attempted to sit up. "It was Crabbe."

Severus' put a gentle restraining hand on Harry's shoulder and his son settled back into his pillow and he asked, "Vincent Crabbe?"

"I…I think he's dead, Dad…I think his fa…fa… father killed him!"

Severus slowly up-righted himself from where he had been leaning over Harry and his heart sank to a dark place.

This was no ordinary dream.

He knew it wouldn't be too long before he would feel the burn of the Dark Lord's summons. Severus would not answer it. He knew it wouldn't be long until the Dark Lord figured out why.

It was three o'clock in the morning at Grimmauld Place and Harry had had his fill of hot chocolate and digestives.

He sat at the kitchen table with his blanket still wrapped around him. Sirius sat next to him. His godfather hadn't left his side since Harry had arrived and he was appreciative for the supporting arm around his shoulder. Harry appreciated it even more for the fact that Sirius had done this even though he knew Harry was fretting over his dad.

His dad had gone to Hogwarts to talk to the Headmaster and left Harry in Sirius' care.

It had only occurred to Harry after his father had left, that he had been calling Severus, 'Dad' all day. As much as Harry wanted to dwell on the implications of that, he couldn't… because he was just too damned scared at the moment. But he did know that calling Severus 'Dad' felt natural now, for some reason…and he wasn't about to change it.

Mrs Weasley stood anxiously by the stove, looking for all the world as if she were about to jump out of her skin for want of something to do.

Ron stood by the kitchen doorway. He had refused to go to bed, even after his mother had chased the other's upstairs. Harry was silently grateful for his friend's fierce loyalty. Mr Weasley stood next to Ron with his arm around one shoulder. He said, "I'm sure it was nothing more than a nightmare."

It was apparent from Ron's dad's tone that he was trying to assure himself as much as he was Ron and Harry. Harry thought ruefully that it wasn't working.

Everyone was on edge. Harry could hear the unasked questions about his appearance by the furtive glances the adults had been giving him all night. Sirius' face looked so tight, Harry thought his godfather would snap at any moment from shear tension.

Remus had just come from upstairs after he had seen Severus off. "We sent a Patronus to Albus," Remus explained. "Severus will be back for you in the morning, Harry…You may want to try to get some sleep," he added gently.

Harry simply shook his head in response as he obediently took yet another steaming mug of hot chocolate from the doting Mrs Weasley, even though his stomach felt like it was about to float away without him. He took a small sip, but the chocolate had lost its flavour long ago. It tasted more like hot water.

After this last nightmare, he wondered if he could ever sleep again. He prayed it was a false alarm…that it was only just a nightmare…but it felt so real…and once again, he felt so dirty.

Harry never liked Vincent Crabbe, but he didn't want to see the boy dead any more than he wanted to see anything happen to Draco…or even his own friends.

Three hours later, the Weasley's having finally coxed Ron into bed, left Harry, Sirius, and Remus to themselves. The sun would be rising soon. But Harry was determined that he would not go to bed until his father was back.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the sound of the upstairs Floo coming to life.

"Stay right here with Sirius, Harry," Remus said, pointing to where Harry was already sitting. "I'll see who it is."

Harry watched anxiously as Remus bounded up the stairs two at a time. If his dad had only gone to talk to the Headmaster, why wasn't he back yet?

"Everything will be alright…you'll see," Sirius said assuredly. To Harry, is godfather's assurances sounded forced and only managed to twist Harry's insides even more, though he was glad for Sirius' effort.

It had seemed as if Remus had just gone upstairs when he came rushing back down again. "Harry…get up…let's go…right now!"

Harry violently pulled away from Sirius to follow Remus back up the stairs. "What…? What's the matter?"

"We have to get you back to Hogwarts…" Remus explained urgently. "Something has happened to your father!

Harry stumbled out of the Floo and into the hospital wing of Hogwarts… only this time it was Remus who was there to catch his fall in his father's stead. To Harry, the brief thought of it was a bad omen. As soon as he righted himself, Harry's heart stopped at the sight that lay before him.

Severus lay as still as death on one of the hospital bed his body filling the bed that was intended for students.

Harry felt hot with anger as he realised his dad must have been like this for quite some time. His father's arms were above the covers, and from the dark blue sleeves,Harry knew somebody had time to change his into pyjamas and nobody had bothered to tell him.

The Headmaster was leaning very close to his father…almost forehead to forehead. He looked as though he was whispering something to Severus.

"Dad?" Harry said in a whisper.

Harry started to run to his father's side, but Remus grabbed him tightly around his biceps before he could take his second step.

"Let me go, Remus," Harry protested as he struggled, but there was no breaking a werewolf's grasp…even in his human form.

Remus whispered into Harry's ear, "Harry, you need to let Albus and Madam Pomfrey help him. Let them do their jobs."

Remus' calming voice helped settle Harry's rising panic.

Harry had only just then noticed the Hogwarts matron hovering over his father. She, too, must have noticed that the bed was too small for Severus because she transfigured it to a more comfortable size for a grown man, and then dutifully continued with what Harry assumed to be healing spells.

Harry gasped through suppressed tears. When had he come to care so much for Severus Snape? He had been denying his feelings for so long that he was having trouble controlling them now that they came rushing forward.

"What happened? ...What happened to my dad, Remus?" Harry asked frantically.

Harry didn't understand. Severus had been just fine when he left. He wasn't supposed to have gone to a Death Eater meeting. Had he lied to Harry just to keep him from worrying?

"I don't know, Harry," Remus said softly. "Minerva only said that Severus had been injured, she didn't say how it happened."

Harry watched closely as Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey continued to treat his father.

He hadn't even realised that he said aloud as he continued to stare at his father's unconscious form, "It's not fair…it's just not fair. We just found each other."

Harry felt Remus' hands move. Instead of holding him back, Harry felt the strong hand on his head, and Remus pulled a distraught Harry to his chest. The sound of Remus' heartbeat flooded Harry's ears, and somehow, Harry found comfort in it.

"I know, Harry…I know," Remus said understandingly. "I find it hard to believe you two have come so far so quickly. Your mother would be so happy."

Harry silently let the tears flow down his face now. He couldn't stop them if he wanted to. Harry actually felt a little embarrassed that he stood with his face buried in Remus' chest, not to mention that he was soaking the man's shirt, but he couldn't help himself.

The Headmaster and Madam Pomfrey couldn't finish fast enough. The overwhelming urge to go to his dad was getting too strong to ignore. He wanted his dad!

Just when Harry thought he could wait no longer, Madam Pomfrey finished her diagnostics and Dumbledore arose from his father's side.

From the way the Headmaster nodded his head to Remus, Harry knew he was about to be released, and he burst forth from his friend's embrace to Severus' bedside.

"Dad!"

"He cannot hear you, Harry."

Harry was so lost in thought, he almost didn't recognise the Headmaster's voice.

"But why?" Harry asked as he held back a hiccup. "I don't understand!

He looked over his father's body for any visible sign of injury and found none. His dad looked as if he were simply asleep. It was then Harry caught sight of this father's left forearm jutting forth from the rolled-up pyjama sleeve.

His father's Dark Mark was fully exposed. Harry thought he was going to be sick. It looked like a living thing...inflamed and breathing through his father's very skin. I was not the simple inky black tattoo that Harry remembered his dad showing Minister Fudge at the end of last term.

Harry startled when he felt Professor Dumbledore's aging hand rest gently on his shoulder.

"He was Summoned, Harry," Dumbledore began quietly. "Your father refused to answer. Even when he tried to compel your father to go with an Imperius Curse, your father resisted. The only recourse the Dark Lord had was to punish Severus, and I am sorry to say neither of us saw this coming. The longer your father ignored Tom's call…the more pain he inflicted through your father's Mark. The pain became so intense that Madam Pomfrey and I had to induce a coma before the pain killed him or, at the very least, drove him mad."

Harry had never seen the Headmaster look so haggard. Albus Dumbledore looked like he was on the verge of tears himself. The Headmaster was obviously shaken and Harry couldn't help but wonder how badly his father had been tortured before he begged for relief. Whatever his father went through, it was apparently bad enough to unnerve Dumbledore.

Harry did not find the thought comforting in the least.

The most disturbing thought was that his dad had not even been in Voldemort's presence and the bastard could still do something like this.

Harry looked at his father's pale face. It seemed placid enough. He simply looked like he was asleep, but Harry still had to ask, "He can't feel the pain?"

"No Harry, he cannot," the Headmaster said reassuringly "I've helped him to secure his mind deep beneath his shields. He is totally unaware of anything. But he will have to remain this way until we find a way to counteract Voldemort's influence over his Mark."

The Headmaster continued to explain the situation sadly. Harry wasn't certain if the old man was talking to him, or talking to himself. "I blame myself for this. Of course Tom would have other means of controlling his Death Eaters besides the Imperius Curse. Your father regretted his short-sightedness as well. But be that as it may…there was no alternative. No matter what the cost, he could not and would not answer the summons."

Harry's throat felt hot and dry. He could scarcely say, "How long…He…he can't remain like this forever."

Harry took Severus' hand into his, and the other he placed over his father's heart. He hung on every heartbeat and breathed along with his dad's every breath. Harry needed to assure himself that his dad was indeed still alive.

The Headmaster promised solemnly, "We will do all that we can, Harry."

Harry looked up to see Remus standing over the foot of his father's bed. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and there was an undeniable look of concern over his scar-marked face.

Harry was grateful for his older friend's stability and understanding. As much as Harry loved Sirius, as it was, the relationship between his father and godfather was iffy at best. It made Harry sad to admit it, but he didn't think Sirius would be a great comfort should something happen to Severus Snape.

Remus asked, "Can anything be done, Albus?"

"I must do some research before I can answer that with any certainty, I'm afraid," the Headmaster said. "I'm relatively certain what kind of magic was used to create the Mark…I am less certain of how to counteract it."

Harry felt the Headmaster's warm breath on his neck as the ancient wizard leaned over and whispered softly into his ear, "I will not tell you not to worry, Harry… for I too, am worried. But I promise you this…I will not rest until I find a way to save your father."

As Remus regarded the exchange between the Headmaster and Harry, he could not help but wonder if his young friend was even aware of what Albus was saying. Harry never acknowledged the Headmaster. All of the boy's attention was now obstinately fixed on Severus.

Albus patted Harry on the shoulder once as he stood to leave.

"A word with you, Albus?" Remus requested.

The Headmaster nodded and Remus followed him to the hospital doors. As soon as they were out of Harry's earshot, Remus stopped and softly spoke to Albus while he watched Harry out of his peripheral vision, "The boy…Vincent Crabbe…Does anyone know if he's alright…was Harry's vision true?"

"Someone is ascertaining the answer to that question as we speak," Albus said gravely as he gave one last look at Harry and Severus before he left. "But I can't help but be worried for Harry," Dumbledore confessed. "Severus' mind is whole and intact behind his formidable shields. He is safe, but I'm worried for Harry's well-being. I know I do not have to ask this of you…but please keep an eye on Harry, Remus."

"You're right…you don't have to ask."

The Headmaster reached up and squeezed Remus' shoulder in gratitude and gave a wan smile before he left.

Remus sighed and looked back towards Harry. The boy sat slumped over in an uncomfortable chair, keeping vigil over the father he had only just begun to know. Remus felt for the boy. Couldn't he have one bit of happiness without it being snatched out from under him?

As Remus watched Harry, something else slowly dawned on him. Harry had experienced another physical change. It wasn't subtle either. Remus been so preoccupied, he'd only just noticed that Harry was definitely beginning to look like Severus. Sirius was going to be devastated.

He quietly made his way over to Harry and gently placed his hands on either side of the boy and encouraged him to his feet.

"Harry," he said as he gently coaxed the boy to the bed next to Severus', "You need to get some sleep."

Harry shook his head in protest as Remus transfigured Harry's clothes into pyjamas and began to unlace his trainers.

Remus almost didn't catch Harry's quiet plea of, "Dad?

"…Would want you to get some sleep," Remus said, finishing the boy's sentence for him. "You haven't slept for two days." Remus gently pushed his hands into Harry's chest in order to force the emotionally exhausted boy to lie down. "I will watch your father for you and I promise to wake you up if anything changes."

No sooner had Harry's head hit the pillow than he was fast asleep, and Remus carefully pulled a blanket up over the boy's shoulders.

With a flick of his wrist, he beckoned a chair for himself and placed it strategically between his two charges.

Though he suspected Severus couldn't hear him, Remus still leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Don't worry, Severus, we won't let Harry go through this alone."

Then Remus sat back in the chair and began his vigil. He kept thinking how Sirius desperately wanted to be there with Harry right now…and how much Harry desperately needed him.

As Albus ascended the spiral staircase leading into his office, he began to feel every bit of his one-hundred fourteen years. His quest to find the remaining Horcruxes would have to be put on hold for the time being. Right at the moment, his focus needed to be centred on saving the Death Eater children and finding a way to save Severus.

Then there was Harry. Albus was obviously going to have to continue with the child's Occlumency training. In all honesty, Albus was impressed that the boy had only had this one vision in the past two weeks. Even those who were able to learn the craft seldom did so quickly. But Severus had been a natural Occlumens, and apparently it was a gift that he passed on to his son. Even before learning the at, Harry had been able to resist the Imperius Curse at the gentle age of fourteen. That in itself was a good sign that Harry would do well with Occlumency.

As he approached the inner door to his office, Albus hoped that Lucius would be waiting with some news about the fate of Vincent Crabbe. He earnestly hoped that Harry was wrong, but his instincts told him that it would not be the case. Vincent Crabbe was neither an exemplary student nor an amicable child, but he was Albus' student and a child nonetheless.

When he entered his office, Albus saw that one hope had been realised. He could see the back of Lucius Malfoy's head in the chair before his desk... his perfectly coiffed silver-blond hair pulled back and held with a black silk bow.

Minerva arose from Albus' own chair behind the desk when he entered. Her lips were pursed with her frustration, and she looked every bit the part of an annoyed babysitter. Albus was fully aware that her frustration and annoyance were not solely directed at Lucius. No one had yet to told her why Severus was in a coma.

Albus had his answer regarding Vincent Crabbe as soon as Lucius Malfoy arose and turned to acknowledge his presence. Lucius' face may have remained placid, but real fear flashed in the normally stoic wizard's grey eyes.

Minerva's catlike gaze stayed fixed on Lucius with great suspicion. "Albus," Minerva said. "Mr Malfoy arrived ten minutes ago. He claims to have some information that he can divulge only to you."

Lucius' posture stiffened slightly in what Albus knew was an attempt to project the aristocratic bearing he was known for.

"Ah yes, Minerva…I have been expecting Lucius," Albus said rather easily.

Minerva seemed to deflate slightly at that, whilst a little grin of self-righteousness seemed to twitch the corner of Lucius' lips.

"Please…sit Lucius," Albus motioned graciously as he strode around his desk to his chair. Minerva stepped aside to allow the Headmaster to sit in his rightful place.

"Minerva, if you would…please go to the Hospital Wing. Poppy and Remus Lupin will apprise you of the events thus far. Then if you would be so kind, I need you to inform those at Headquarters as to what has happened."

"Of course, Albus," Minerva said curtly, knowing a dismissal when she was given one. She turned to Lucius as she passed and said tersely, "Good day, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius arose and gave a slight nod, saying only, "Professor McGonagall."

After Minerva left, Lucius lowered himself gracefully to his seat and looked to Albus. Albus could sense that the man was attempting to look passive and to employ whatever brief knowledge of Occlumency Severus had begun to employ. Even as a schoolboy, Lucius Malfoy was a quick learner. He had deserved his place as Prefect and Head Boy. Albus could already detect a faint shield, but it was a weak attempt and easily shattered should Albus choose to do so.

Lucius' tension was palpable and he knew it. He had not been this anxious in front of Albus Dumbledore since the Chamber of Secrets debacle, and he could not believe the mess he had gotten himself into now.

Only the night before, he had taken his first Occlumency lesson with Severus. Lucius' intention was to learn how hide his mind from the Dark Lord and resist the Imperius Curse when the inevitable day came that the Dark Lord would try to force Lucius to kill his own family. But now Severus had fallen victim to the Dark Lord, and look where that left Lucius...spilling the Dark Lord's secrets to his greatest enemy, and Lucius with no way to defend himself from attack once the Dark Lord finally decided to strike.

Lucius may have become disenchanted with his master…he was determined to leave the Death Eaters, even if it meant exile with his family… but never had Lucius even imagined that he would be sitting in Albus Dumbledore's office, fighting a mutual cause with Mudbloods, Half Bloods, Blood Traitors, and Muggle sympathisers.

Granted, Lucius had wanted a way out for some time now…even before the Dark Lord's first downfall.

Lucius had been attracted to The Dark Lord's cause by his promise to return power and status to Purebloods and the power and influence that came with being associated with such a powerful wizard. The chance that Lucius would be able to indulge in some of his baser instincts had also added to the allure.

But after years of torturing and being tortured at the behest of the Dark Lord, Lucius had come to the conclusion that he was on the losing end of a raw deal. He had finally come to realise that the Dark Lord was not an advocate for the Pureblood. The Dark Lord was an advocate for the Dark Lord. He was simply using his Death Eaters as a means to an end…to become immortal.

Lucius was sickened at his own gullibility. He had bought the bastard's rhetoric hook, line, and sinker. Now he was bound to an insane megalomaniac; sycophant…a slave…worse than a house-elf. It was hardly a position worthy of a Malfoy.

"Lucius…what have you discovered? Have our worst fears been realised?" Lucius could not help but wonder if the wizened man before him already knew the answer to his question.

"I am afraid so," Lucius said gravely. "I have just come back from speaking with Elise Crabbe. I will not go into details as to the state she is in as of this moment. Suffice it to say, should Maximilian come home, there will be another homicide to contend with."

Dumbledore nodded his understanding. "And what of Maximilian? Does anybody know his whereabouts? Did he do this intentionally?"

"As to the first…no one knows what has happened to him." The distaste in Lucius' tone was apparent. Not just at what Crabbe had done, but that he was actually giving this information to Albus Dumbledore, of all wizards. He was walking a very fine line, and with one small slip Lucius stood to lose everything in his life that he held dear. If it were only his life at stake, Lucius wouldn't be where he was at that moment. But for the sake of his wife and son, he had to take his chances with these traitors.

Lucius continued debriefing the Head of the Order. "It appears as if he was summoned alone…this bit of news is going through the Death Eater community like…."

Lucius had to stop and bring his emotions into check. As a parent, he felt for Elise and her loss. Lucius didn't know what he would do if something happened to his son. He still hadn't told his son about the fate of his friend. How could he tell Draco that Vincent had been murdered at his father's hand? How could he make Draco understand when Lucius didn't understand himself?

"Nobody knows why Maximilian would kill his only son, or if it was done by his own will," Lucius said miserably. "But that doesn't matter, does it? His son is still dead."

Lucius swallowed hard. The lump he forced down his throat was what was left of his pride, but he had to ask nonetheless. "Headmaster…do you…do you know why the Dark Lord would be asking his own Death Eaters to sacrifice their children?"

"I take it that you have not read the potion instructions then, Lucius?"

Malfoy gave a slight shake of his head. "I only know its name…I surmised the Dark Lord's intention when he asked us to present our children. What good would it do? I read Latin…but the theory would have been Greek to me."

The Headmaster just nodded gravely. "It seems that in order for the potion to work…it requires a willing sacrifice. Apparently Riddle is delusional enough to believe that his followers would gladly sacrifice their children for him. I believe that he would curse the dissenters into doing so anyway…as punishment. He may even curse them into believing that they had done so willingly…so as not to lose their loyalty. This monstrous act becomes even more so when one realises that the sacrifice must be totally willing for the potion to work. If Maximilian was compelled to kill his son, the sacrifice will not work and the boy truly died for nothing."

Lucius throat burned with pent back bile. He intended to ask what this bloody potion was meant to do. But did it matter? Vincent was still dead. The other children would still be dead.

Lucius came to a sudden realisation. The Dark Lord must die! If that meant soiling himself by allying with the Order, so be it!

"Do any of your… associates… know of Voldemort's intentions?" Lucius flinched at Dumbledore's casual mention of the Dark Lord's name.

"No…" Lucius said as calmly as he could though his burgeoning headache. "Undoubtedly, that is why he will Summon us on an individual basis, so we will be blinded to his true intentions. Otherwise he would risk open rebellion."

The Headmaster and Lucius startled at the same time… perhaps both coming up with the stirrings of the same idea.

"Lucius…would you be willing to continue your Occlumency training under my tutelage?" Dumbledore queried. "And are you willing to grant your services in a more meaningful way?"

By the time Lucius Malfoy finally left Albus' office, Albus was encouraged despite himself. It was a stroke of genius on Severus' part to seek an alliance with Lucius Malfoy. Lucius had not only agreed to continue his training under Albus…every night…but he had also agreed to permanently take on Severus' role as a double agent.

But it would take time before Lucius could set their new plan into motion. Unfortunately, there was not much left of that particular commodity.

Albus also needed to find a way to counteract Riddle's Mark. Now it was not just Severus's life at stake…but the life of every Death Eater who wished to save their child. After all…Severus was actually "lucky." He at least had his Occlumency skills to help him block the pain from the Mark within the confines of his coma. The others would not be so fortunate. The others would either be forced to kill their children or families…or be tortured into madness and death. Either way, it was a potential mass slaughter in the making.

Four days had passed.

Harry never left the hospital. He hadn't bothered to bathe or shave since he began his vigil, and he knew that no matter how many freshening spells he performed on himself, he still likely smelled like a troll's dirty sock. Thank goodness Hermione thought to bring his toothbrush, insisting that Harry brush his teeth. Otherwise, Harry was sure his teeth would be growing fur by now.

His friends had come to visit him and Severus every day, even though Harry did not feel much like visiting. Sirius had even managed to come over once in the form of "Snuffles" until Madam Pomfrey shooed the big black dog from her hospital ward. It wasn't that Harry didn't want his friends around. It was just that all of his thoughts remained with his dad, and Harry knew he wasn't good company.

Yesterday, Ron and Hermione had finally managed to convince Harry to eat something, reminding him of what Severus would have to say if he found out Harry hadn't been eating properly.

Miraculously, Harry had managed to get some restful sleep. In fact, Remus had found Harry reluctant to wake up. Harry's dreams had been peaceful. Every night, Harry dreamed that he was a waterfall. But this time, he was falling over a great cliff and into the sea. There was something oddly familiar about this sea. Somehow…he could sense his father's presence there and it made him feel at ease.

At this moment Harry was on the other side of the privacy screen as Madam Pomfrey tended to Severus' morning ablutions. Remus had just returned after breakfast and was quietly reading a book in the corner.

After what seemed like forever to Harry, Madam Pomfrey removed the screen and said, "You may visit with your father now, Mr Potter."

Harry took what had become his chair, close to Severus' bedside. He held his father's hand and studied the older man's face. Harry had made a habit of doing that lately. The more Harry studied his father, the more he saw himself in the man, and Harry had come to the conclusion that it was not necessarily a bad thing. Sometime during the summer, Professor Snape had disappeared and had been replaced with this man that Harry had come to call "Dad." It was a comforting thought, and it made Harry unconsciously smile.

His father's face had become shadowed with dark stubble and Harry decided something had to be done about it. Severus wouldn't abide such a slovenly appearance, coma or no coma.

"Madam Pomfrey…is there something that could be done about my dad's face?"

"What's wrong with his face?" Madam Pomfrey asked in alarm. Harry rolled his eyes because she looked like she was studying Severus' face, thinking that he had somehow been injured. Did she think he had gotten into a fight lying there like a toppled statue?

"His beard, Madam Pomfrey," Harry snapped a bit impatiently. He regretted his temper, but she was overlooking the obvious. "Is it possible to remove his beard?"

"Oh…of course, Mr Potter," she said with a slight hint of embarrassment. With a quick flick of her wand, the offending facial hair was gone and she left Harry alone with his father.

"Sorry about that, Dad." Harry had gotten into the habit of speaking to his father over the past four days. It made him feel as if they were still connected, and despite what others might think, Harry felt as if his father could hear him.

"I know you wouldn't like if people were to see you scruffy like that. But it is a nice look for you," Harry added cheekily. "It makes you look rugged."

He was late.

Damn him!

As Lucius Malfoy sat impatiently waiting for the Headmaster, he wondered where the old coot could possibly be now. As always, Lucius was there exactly on time for his daily Occlumency lesson. He had given up his mid-mornings to accommodate these infernal sessions.

Lucius loathed having Albus Dumbledore poking around his head every morning. Yet to Lucius' utter amazement, Dumbledore had not asked him to confess or explain his myriad past sins.

The lessons themselves were progressing quite well. It was astonishing what one was capable of learning when the threat of one's child's life loomed over one's head. Lucius took his Occlumency training very seriously. Now, if the demented old wizard who was teaching him would only afford him the same courtesy...

After another agonising ten minutes, Lucius had enough waiting. He decided to take it upon himself to go down and look for Dumbledore. He was fairly certain that if Dumbledore was anywhere he would be in the hospital with Severus.

Lucius berated himself for not checking in on Severus before now. Besides…looking in on his old colleague would give him just the excuse he needed to wander down to the Hospital Wing.

He should have known that Snape was different than the others.

The Potions Master had always managed to distance himself and keep his hands clean, even amongst the Dark Lord's most vile filth. Severus had always used the excuse that he couldn't produce effective potions for the Dark Lord if his soul was tainted by participating in some of the Dark Lord's favourite debaucheries. Frankly, Lucius always thought the excuses were a load of codswallop and lo and behold, he had been proved right. Now he could kick himself for not thinking of a similar excuse.

Lucius did owe Severus a debt. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Lucius felt that he finally had control of his own fate, and it was because of Severus.

As Lucius approached the Hospital Wing he could hear voices drifting into the corridor. He stopped just short of the entrance, unsure how his presence would be taken by certain others.

"Your father is doing well…I have helped him reinforce his shields. He is still in no pain."

That statement made Lucius pause.

Father?

Did Severus have a child? That was certainly news. Lucius had been wrong about Severus in more ways than one. Severus Snape did know what it was like to have a child. Lucius thought he knew Severus Snape like none other; now it was apparent that he did not know the man at all. How many other secrets had Severus successfully hidden over the years?

"Are you any closer to finding an answer, Albus?"

Lucius recognised the voice of the werewolf, Remus Lupin.

"I am fairly sure that it is a variation of a Protean Charm. I will need to discern exactly how Voldemort modified the charm before I can devise a way to counter it."

Lucius' arm twitched with pain when the Headmaster said the Dark Lord's name.

Must the old fool do that? Lucius thought irritatedly to himself.

"Before we go any further, Albus…you should be aware that there is someone standing outside the door listening." Lucius was certain Lupin had not heard him, but he damned the werewolf's sense of smell.

"That would be Lucius," Dumbledore said without concern. "I'm late for our Occlumency lesson…do come in, Lucius."

"Malfoy!" Lucius heard a voice call out in contempt. He knew that voice.

As he rounded the door, Lucius said reciprocally, "Mr Potter."

But Lucius did not understand. Here was the Headmaster, the werewolf, and the Boy-Who-Lived, but where was this mysterious child of Sever…

"Oh my…" Lucius breathed as the realisation dawned upon him. He looked at Severus and then back to the Potter boy. Lucius had not seen the whelp since the night at the graveyard, but the boy had definitely changed. The resemblance between Severus and Potter was unmistakable.

"Of course you realise that I will insist upon an Unbreakable Vow to ensure your silence in this matter, Lucius," Dumbledore said. The pointed look the Headmaster gave Lucius from behind his ridiculous half-moon glasses made it clear to Lucius that it was not a request.

Knowing that Dumbledore would not hesitate to Obliviate him if he refused, Lucius said the only thing he could. "Of course, Headmaster."

"What is he doing here?" the Potter bra…Severus' son spat.

Dumbledore answered before Lucius had the opportunity. "As I have already stated, Harry, I am late for our Occlumency lesson."

"You're giving him lessons too?" Potter asked accusingly.

"Your father explained the necessity to you, Harry. I am simply taking over in his stead. And as circumstances have become more…pressing…Mr Malfoy's lessons have been augmented to a daily basis."

Malfoy stood there and listened to the entire exchange with disdain. Honestly, Potter's audacity needed to be nipped in the bud. If the Headmaster ever found a way to bring Snape out of his coma, Lucius would have to give Severus a little advice on how to raise a proper wizarding son.

Malfoy assessed Severus' son with sharp eyes. Had this thin, dishevelled, impudent teen really bested the Dark Lord?

Of course he had. Lucius had seen it with his own eyes.

When he stopped to think back upon it now…Lucius was impressed. Who in their right mind wouldn't be? The Dark Lord was at he height of his power when he duelled Potter—and Potter had lived to tell the tale. The boy never backed down…never once did he cave in to his fear. Lucius could not say as much.

"How did you do it, Potter?"

"What?" The boy gave Lucius a strange, contorted look that indicated he was absolutely clueless.

"That night…how did you best the Dark Lord?"

A revelation suddenly struck Albus like a thunderbolt as he listened to Lucius question Harry.

Harry's wand shared a core with Tom's. Albus was certain that was why Harry's wand had inadvertently cast the Priori Incantatem that night in the graveyard. But perhaps there was more to it. There was also Harry's mental bond with Tom to be considered.

"Surely it can't be that simple?" mused Albus aloud.

Remus gave him a quizzical look. "Simple…what is simple, Headmaster?"

Albus did not answer the question. He had to see if he was right. A part of him knew he was, but he had to be certain.

"Harry…come with me," Albus said mildly as he guided the confused boy over to his father's bedside.

Harry had no clue as to what was going on.

What right did Malfoy have to ask about that at the graveyard? He must have seen poor Cedric's body lying on the ground, yet Malfoy ignored him like a piece of discarded rubbish.

Harry was about to tell Lucius Malfoy what he and his Dark Lord could do with each other, when the Headmaster broke his chain of thought.

Harry's nerves were so on edge he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand touch his upper arm. It was the Headmaster. When the Headmaster began to guide him away from Mr Malfoy, Harry was felt slightly annoyed at being treated like a petulant child, but then he realised the Headmaster had led him to his father's bedside.

"What is it, Headmaster?"

Harry looked down at this comatose father. It was so unsettling to see him so helpless. In all of his years at Hogwarts, Harry couldn't recall a time when Professor Snape had been ill—not once. If anything, Harry thought Snape had been a bit too healthy for Harry's own good. But now, he would give anything to see the old Snape scowl over Harry's latest botched potion.

It seemed like an eternity that Harry stood over is father's vulnerable form. He could feel the eyes of others scrutinising his every move and he was beginning to resent it. Harry's feelings for his father were nobody else's business but his own. He wished that they would all just go away. Harry didn't mind keeping vigil over his father, but he was beginning to wonder what the Headmaster wanted.

Harry did not have to wait long.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore said so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear him. "I want you to remove Voldemort's Mark."

Harry blinked and shook his head—certain he heard something wrong. He looked up at the Headmaster, feeling as confused as ever.

"Pardon me, Sir. I don't think I heard you correctly," Harry said.

Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a pointed look from behind his half-moon glasses and said, "I think you heard me correctly the first time, Harry; but for the sake of clarification I shall repeat myself. I said I want you to remove Lord Voldemort's Mark from your father's arm."

There was no mistaking the Headmaster's words the second time around, for both Remus and Mr Malfoy exclaimed in unison, "What!"

Harry's head was spinning. He wondered if the Headmaster suffered from dementia. Did Dumbledore understand the magnitude and sheer impossibility of what he had just asked of Harry? Who did the Headmaster think Harry was—Albus Dumbledore?

It was then that Mr Malfoy scoffed and Harry couldn't help but reluctantly agree. "Dumbledore…" Mr Malfoy said, and then paused as he seemed to choose his words carefully, "Do you really expect a… a mere child to counter a curse cast by an adult wizard, especially when it was cast by the most powerful dark wizard ever?"

Harry didn't know whether to agree with Mr Malfoy or feel insulted.

I'm not a child, Harry thought obstinately. He hadn't been a child for…well…Harry couldn't actually remember what it felt like to be a child, since thanks to the Dursleys had been forced to assume adult responsibilities at a young age.

But despite the fact that Harry believed that he was no child, the stark reality was that he had no clue how to execute the Headmaster's request.

Before he realised what he was saying Harry found himself nodding in agreement with Mr Malfoy. "Yeah… what he said," Harry exclaimed as he pointed at Draco's father.

Harry had to take pause for a second. He felt his own face contort with confusion and he abruptly dropped his outstretched arm. If he wouldn't look absolutely ridiculous doing so, Harry would smack himself over his own head for agreeing with Lucius Malfoy.

"Headmaster, what makes you believe that Harry can perform such magic?" Remus asked. From the sceptical tone of his voice, Harry could tell that even Remus was beginning to doubt Professor Dumbledore's sanity.

The Headmaster seemed oblivious to the scrutinising gazes he was receiving from every person in the room and he ignored everyone's questions. Instead, Professor Dumbledore kept his attention fixed upon Harry.

Dumbledore insisted gently, "Harry, if you would please—indulge an old man."

Now Harry was more baffled than ever before. What exactly was he supposed to do? What if he did something and he hurt his dad? Harry didn't think it was fair to have such a responsibility put on his shoulders and he didn't like the situation one bit. What if he mucked it up? He would only cause the situation to go from bad to worse.

"Harry, I want you to point your wand at your father's Mark and cast whatever counterspell comes to mind," Dumbledore explained. "His mind is perfectly safe deep beneath his shields. I promise you, he will not feel a thing."

"He might not feel anything, but what if I end up turning him into a Blast-Ended Skrewt?" Harry only made the offhand comment to relieve his tension. But what if he really did turn his dad into a Blast-Ended Skrewt? What was the Headmaster thinking?

Harry's little remark did relieve the tension in the room enough that Remus let out an amused snort. Mr Malfoy, however, looked far from amused. But the Headmaster had a totally different countenance that showed that he was neither sceptical nor amused.

Instead, the Headmaster seemed confident—confident in Harry's ability to do the impossible.

Without knowing why, Harry found a quiet strength in Dumbledore's confidence in him and resolved to at least try. He supposed that if something went wrong, Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were there to help. At this point Harry was willing to do anything to get his father back.

Harry took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. Concentrating as hard as he could, he touched his wand to his father's Mark and clearly enunciated the only countercharm he knew.

"Finite Incantatem."

Harry could feel the raw magic surge through his body like nothing he ever felt before. He stood transfixed yet held fast as an ethereal blue light emanated from the end of his holly wand and invaded his father's Mark. The blue light weaved its way through the black ink causing the Dark Mark to shimmer. There was a collective gasp throughout the room as the Mark began to slowly lift from Severus' skin.

Once the Mark was detached from its host, something even more remarkable happened. The sinister snake that protruded from the gaping mouth of the skull began to struggle, as if deprived of life-giving air. The serpent reared its head, flinging itself to and fro, looking for something to strike, but found no victim. There was no sound, but it looked as if the black snake screamed in agony.

Then without warning—it happened so quickly that if Harry had blinked at that moment, he would have missed it—the Dark Mark that had defined so much of Severus' life vanished in a puff of black smoke.

Gone forever.

Harry's father still lay in his bed unconscious, but his arm, which had once been defiled by Voldemort's Dark Mark, was now as unblemished as the day he was born.

Harry's heart beat so quickly, he wondered if it was beating at all.

Harry dropped his arm by his side. He stood silent in awe and disbelief. He had done it. He didn't know how—but he had done it. He hadn't even broken a sweat!

The silence in the room was deafening. Harry could swear he could hear the rhythmic thump of Remus' and Mr Malfoy's heartbeats resonate from across the room.

But something was wrong. His father still hadn't moved.

Harry turned to the Headmaster and asked anxiously, "Will Dad be alright now, Sir? Why isn't he awake yet?"

"Yes, your father will be fine," Dumbledore said. The Headmaster's smile did not quite reach his eyes, which unnerved Harry a bit. The Headmaster then said, "I will need to enter his mind to help him regain consciousness, but after that, he will be right as rain—You did well, Harry."

Harry wanted to bask in the headmaster's pride, but he was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He sank ungracefully into the chair next to his father's bed, and felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when he realised his father would no longer be a slave to Voldemort's Mark.

"Lucius, you must pardon me," the Headmaster said apologetically as he turned his attention back to the adults. "I am afraid that I will need to cancel today's lesson. Bringing back Severus could take several hours. You may, however, consider taking an additional couple of hours to practice on your own this evening."

Of…of course, Headmaster," Mr Malfoy said, dumbfounded. "I don't believe…how… He's only… It's impossible. How could he?"

Dumbledore patted the still-stunned Mr Malfoy on the shoulder and said patronisingly, "I'm afraid that is an explanation for another time, Lucius. Which reminds me. Before you leave, there is the little matter of…assurances."

Malfoy followed the Headmaster's pointed gaze to Harry.

Mr Malfoy swallowed hard and seemed to say reservedly, "Ah, yes—The Unbreakable Vow."

Harry was unaware that it was Malfoy's second Unbreakable Vow that week. The first was cast by Professor McGonagall when he agreed to take on his father's role as spy. Malfoy had argued that the Vow was unnecessary. He had had as much invested in the Dark Lord's demise as any other member of the Order and perhaps more than most.

If word found its way to the Dark Lord that Lucius had any hand in or knowledge of Severus' treachery for this long and had done nothing to stop it, the Malfoy line would be erased from existence forever. But as a Slytherin, he certainly understood Dumbledore's insistence on "precautions." He would be reluctant to trust this information with a newly turned Death Eater as well.

For all intents and purposes, Lucius Malfoy was now as bound to the Order as he was to Voldemort. The difference was, if he wanted out of the Order, he could leave without worry of retribution to himself or his family. He just couldn't divulge any information.

Dumbledore then turned to Remus and asked, "Remus…would you do the honours?"

Remus was startled out of any musings he seemed to be having. "Of course. Of course, Albus. That is, if Mr Malfoy agrees."

From the way Mr Malfoy's eyes narrowed, Harry guessed that the pureblood aristocrat was not very happy with having a lowly werewolf perform such a personal spell on him.

At least Harry assumed it was personal. He had never heard of the Unbreakable Vow before, but it sounded pretty self-explanatory to him.

Harry was nearly startled out of his trainers when the Headmaster suddenly addressed him. "Harry, if you will excuse us?"

"Oh…yeah," Harry said numbly as Professor Dumbledore ushered the two other wizards out the hospital doors and into a nearby abandoned classroom.

Harry watched as the older wizards left the hospital ward. He turned to his father and said, "You'll be home soon, Dad."

No sooner had Harry settled himself in the chair at his father's bedside than Madam Pomfrey returned from her office. Her arms were laden with phials of potions and ointments for Harry's father. Along with the Nutritive potion she would spell into Severus' system, she also carried Burn-Healing-Paste and Murtlap Essence in a vain attempt to lessen the physical effects of Severus' Mark.

"Where are the Headmaster and Professor Lupin, Mr Potter?" the matron asked as she crossed the room.

"They stepped out across the hall," Harry said pointing in the general direction of the corridor. "Madam Pomfrey, I need to tell you that there's no need to…"

The matron shushed Harry in the middle of his sentence as she began to organise her supplies on a portable work table. "Quiet, Mr Potter, and let me attend to…"

Harry jumped to his feet as the jar of burn unguent Madam Pomfrey was about to apply to Severus' arm fell out of her hands and crashed to the floor.

"WHAT HAPPENED!" she shrieked, clutching chest as if she were trying to keep her heart from jumping out.

"That's what I was about to tell you," Harry said as he spelled away the glass for the matron. "Dumbledore found a way to get rid of the Mark."

It was a half-truth, but Harry wasn't sure that it was a good idea to let too many people in on the fact that it was he who cast out the Mark.

"That is Professor Dumbledore to you, young man," said a faint, yet stern baritone voice.

"Oh my Go…DAD!" Harry flung himself across Severus' chest.

Harry didn't think he would be so emotional when his dad woke up, but he couldn't stop the tears of relief that streamed down his face. He felt like such a baby, but he didn't care. His father was back and that was all that mattered.

Harry felt his dad's hand run through his already messy hair, and he knew everything was going to be all right.

Harry never moved from Severus' chest even when he heard Madam Pomfrey cry out, "ALBUS!"

He finally did look up and his father turned his head at the heavy sound of footsteps running towards the Hospital Wing.

"What is it, Poppy?" the Headmaster asked as soon as he entered the doors.

"He's awake, Albus." Madam Pomfrey said. Harry wasn't too focused on the conversation and the Medi-Witch's words sounded like a far-off echo.

Harry sat up, thinking that his father would not want to be seen in such an undignified having a teen aged boy wrapped around his chest. But to his astonishment, when he tried to pull away, his father held fast.

Remus and Mr Malfoy watched silently from a distance, but the Headmaster stood smiling at the end of the bed. "Severus, my lad, I must say you never fail to astonish this old man." He then turned towards Harry and added, "Which seems to be a trait inherited by your son.

"I will not take them, Madam!"

Severus Snape was the epitome of the impatient patient." His arms were crossed and his head was turned away from the Medi-Witch like a very stubborn five-year-old who would not take his medicine. On the contrary—he was a very stubborn thirty-five-year-old who would not take his medicine. Severus was adamant that he would not take a potion that was not brewed by his own hand.

Harry stood back a couple of beds down, wisely keeping his distance from Severus and his ire. The Potions Master scowled at the smirk that crept across his son's face. The boy obviously found amusement in the contest of wills between his father and the equally stubborn witch.

"I haven't taken a potion not brewed by my own hands in over fifteen years."

"I beg to differ," Pomfrey snapped. "You've been taking my potions all week and yet you live."

Severus sardonically retorted, "I will be sure to beware of any delayed reactions."

Severus' patience was growing thin. He had no time for this." Severus needed to get out of bed. The school term was quickly approaching and he was behind in his preparations. Merlin only knew how many staff and Order meetings he had missed in the past week. Not to mention the next full moon was in less than two weeks. If he was going to brew Lupin's Wolfsbane Potion, he'd better get cracking. Otherwise Hogwarts would be short both a Potions Master and a DADA Professor come the beginning of term, in addition to having a very surly Werewolf traipsing about the castle at night.

Wars were so damn inconvenient.

Severus gingerly turned his body to sit over the side of the bed. Thankfully, his muscles were beginning to remember how they worked.

Poppy snapped at Severus,"What do you think you're doing now?"

"What does it look like, you old witch! I'm getting my arse out of bed."

"At least take a Strengthening Potion before you fall on your face and deform your nose even more than it already is," Poppy said snarkily.

Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously at the old matron. If he only had his wand…. Perhaps he could cast a wandless Furnunculus Hex. Now was as good a time as any to practice his wandless magic skills. No sooner had Severus began to raise his hand towards the irksome matron than his meddling son stepped in.

"Dad, perhaps we can ask a house-elf to grab one from your private stores," Harry suggested. The boy's raised eyebrow that was so reminiscent of Severus' and his familiar address were enough to catch both Poppy and Severus off guard for a split second.

Severus moaned internally at missing his opportunity to hex the exasperating Medi-Witch, but he grudgingly acquiesced to his son's suggestion.

"Oh, alright," Severus said, cringing internally because he sounded like a petulant child.

From his peripheral vision he could see Poppy give a little sigh of relief. Oh…she may have escaped Severus' hex, but he wasn't going to let her get away that easily. "After all, considering how well you repaired my nose last time it was broken, Madam—I should be surprised this time if I did not end up with my nostrils facing sideways."

Poppy Pomfrey looked like she was going to oblige Severus, when Harry suddenly called out, "DOBBY!"

Severus sat in his office going over his curriculum for his NEWT students. He had eight new students who had managed to make an 'O' on their OWLs and decided to continue with Potions. He had three returning seventh year students. Severus particularly enjoyed his NEWT classes. These were students who were dedicated to the art and took it seriously. He was not inundated with inane questions and he did not have to worry about dunderheads melting cauldrons or sabotaging potentially dangerous potions.

Severus desperately wanted to see his son advance into his NEWT class the following year. But no matter how much Harry favoured him in appearance, that did not change the fact that Harry's potion skills had always been mediocre at best.

Perhaps if he stepped back, and didn't hover over the boy quite so much?

He thought back on the potions ingredients and the projects that Harry would be submitting this year. Harry had collected daises, hellebore, peppermint, flux weed, and knotgrass. The potions Harry had submitted for his projects were the Draught of Peace, a Euphoria Elixir, and Polyjuice Potion.

Severus had explained to Harry that although the Draught of Peace was a reasonable fifth year Potion, Euphoria Elixir and Polyjuice Potion would not be covered until NEWT level. He truly doubted Harry could pull off the more advanced potions.

But Harry was adamant, confident that he could pull off these potions if Severus gave him the chance. As Severus remembered the previous day, watching Harry in the lab diligently extracting Hellebore Syrup, he could feel his fatherly pride well up within him. Perhaps if given the proper encouragement, Harry could prepare the potions properly. Perhaps one day, Severus' son just might follow in his footsteps.

Should Severus ever actually live to see the day he retired from teaching, he thought he might like to open his own Apothecary. The idea of maybe opening a shop with his son felt somewhat satisfying.

Miraculously, Severus had lived to see his retirement from one career he did not expect to. He lived to see his retirement from espionage.

Severus gave a quick breath as he looked down at his left forearm. It had been nearly twenty years since he had seen the appendage unblemished. Though after the Dark Lord's first downfall the Mark had faded to the point of near invisibility, Severus could see his Mark of Shame glaring back at him as vivid as the day he was branded. Although Severus' intentions were pure, there was no denying that he had felt unclean ever since. This new feeling of freedom and purity was indescribable. This had been the first day in all those long years that Severus had actually dared to take off his restricting jacket and roll up his sleeves outside of his quarters. The absence of the Mark had indeed been liberating.

He was still at a loss as to how Harry managed to pull it off.

Albus would not tell him how Harry had done it. As always, his answers were ambiguous at best. Severus had half a mind to lace the old man's sherbet lemons with Veritaserum. The bloody wizard seemed incapable of giving a straight answer if one asked him if it was raining outside.

…And speaking of the bloody wizard, he had the audacity to enter Severus' office right at that very moment.

Damn, Severus thought to himself. His stores were too far away to reach his Veritaserum in time.

"Severus, my boy," Albus said merrily. "You are looking in fine form today." The Headmaster presumptuously seated himself in front of Severus' desk without waiting for an invitation.

"Please…do have a seat, Albus," said Severus satirically. "Pardon my inhospitality, but I have no sherbet lemons to offer," he added dryly.

Albus took a small tin out of his pocket and shook it gleefully. "Never leave home without them." He plucked one from the tin and with his thin, wrinkled fingers popped it in his mouth like a cheeky ten-year-old.

"Spit it out, Albus," Severus said, not wanting to wait for the Headmaster to get to the point of his visit.

The Headmaster gave Severus the most disturbing of cheeky grins, as if he had contemplated literally spitting out his candy rather than have an adult conversation. Severus often suspected dementia and had been creeping up on the ancient wizard for a number of years now. It wouldn't have surprised Severus in the least if the Headmaster did such a thing, though it would disgust him to the point that he couldn't eat for the rest of the day. Thankfully, Albus thought better of such theatrics.

"What do you want, Albus?" Severus asked in frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He suddenly had a headache. "You're never this nauseatingly cheerful unless you want something."

"You never let me have any fun, Severus," the Headmaster said in mock chastisement. However, his demeanour had changed abruptly. "Nevertheless—you are correct. I do want to ask something of you and it is of a very serious nature."

"I would give every galleon in my vault if one day you would just get straight to the point, old man."

Albus' face turned grave and he indeed, came straight to the point. "The death of Vincent Crabbe has made the news and Voldemort's involvement has been exposed."

"I take it Elise let this news slip?"

Severus was well aware that Elise Crabbe never fully approved of Max's association with the Dark Lord for this very reason. She did not want Vincent involved. Now her only son had paid the ultimate price for his father's sins.

"The Order has only just received this information within the hour. Madam Crabbe has left Europe all together. Once she felt herself safe, she sent a post not only to the Ministry, but to all of the wizarding news outlets. She left her home open for investigators, who found indisputable evidence of Death Eater activity as well as Maximilian's private journals."

"Any idea if Max had killed Vincent intentionally or under duress?" Severus asked.

Albus shook his head slightly. "There is no way of telling from his journals. Apparently, he was eager to introduce Vincent to Tom. He was hoping to improve his standing should he be the first to do so. However, we have no way of knowing if he willingly sacrificed his son."

"Also," Albus continued, "Tom has officially marked you for capture. It seems that he has been rather…inconvenienced by your defection. Without a Potions Master his plans have been put on hiatus."

Severus remained deceptively blasé, taking note that Albus' operative word was capture and not death.

"I was expecting as much," Severus said coolly. If it wasn't for Harry, this news wouldn't concern him in the least. He knew he could outwit any Death Eater until King Arthur returned. But Harry probably would not take the news so easily.

"Does this have anything to do with mysterious question you have yet to ask me?"

"As a matter of fact, it does. I think it might be wise if you were to make public your liberation from the Dark Mark," Albus said as easily as if he had just asked Severus to tea.

"I suppose it would make the Dark Lord look a fool in front of the entire wizarding world," Severus said as he tried to reason out Albus' request aloud. "But this is bound to anger him all the more. People will want to know how. That might expose Har…."

Severus stopped as the awful realization of what the Headmaster was asking hit him.

"NO!" Severus shouted as he stood up. "NO,NO, NO, ALBUS!" Severus continued to rant as he pounded his fist on his desk with fury. "I will not allow you to use my son!"

"Severus…you don't understand," said Albus defensively as he held up his hands in a vain attempt to calm Severus. "There may be no other way. You never heard Prophecy in its entirety. If we have any chance at all in winning this war, Harry must be involved. He is the key to Voldemort's downfall."

"I SAID NO, ALBUS!" Severus was so angry he could feel the vein throb in his temple, threatening to explode at any second. "Harry is a fifteen-year-old boy! He is not a pawn to be sacrificed in the name of your cause! He is not a lame hare to be used to draw out the foxes! He is my son, and if you dare try to lay your hands on him, I'll remove him from this school and take him so deep into hiding a pack of werewolves couldn't sniff us out!"

Severus abruptly turned away from Albus. He had to regain his control. If he looked at his old mentor much longer, Severus was afraid that he would cast an Unforgivable.

"Severus…please…Listen to reason?" Albus implored. "We need Harry. We will never be rid of Voldemort without him."

"Get out." The threat behind Severus' nearly inaudible voice was unmistakable.

"But Severus…"

Severus slowly turned to face Dumbledore, his rage seething beneath his thinly veiled demeanour of calm. "I said, get out, Albus … Get out now."

"If you would only calm yourself and listen, I…"

"Get OUT! I don't care about your excuses!" Severus shouted as he rounded his desk. Fortunately, the Headmaster was already walking towards the door, otherwise Severus would have forcibly thrown his employer out without regard to his tenure.

As the Headmaster crossed Severus' threshold, he turned one last time to Severus and said, "Honestly, Severus, you don't understand. Prophesy says …."

Severus was at the end of his tether. "You don't get it, you old fool," Severus said heatedly. "You are not recruiting my son! Damn the Prophecy. Damn this war. Damn the Dark Lord and DAMN YOU!"

Severus no longer cared that he would not have a job, even as he slammed his door in the stunned Headmaster's face

*SLAM*

Harry was startled out of his concentration. His father had given him permission to practice brewing potions for the upcoming term—one of the many perks of having a parent on Hogwarts' staff. He was on the final stage for brewing a nearly perfect Euphoria Elixir when someone slammed the door to his father's private chambers so violently, the stone walls literally shook.

"HARRY!"

Damn!

This couldn't be good. Harry knew that angry voice anywhere, and frankly, he had never heard Severus Snape so angry. In Harry's experience—that was saying something.

Harry went into the kitchen. He still had a phial of shrivelfigs in his hand when he guardedly peeked around the wall and into the sitting room.

"Dad?" he said nervously—unwilling to leave the protection that the stone wall provided in case he had to dodge a random flying object. For the life of him, Harry couldn't think of anything he had done wrong. He hadn't blown up the quarters yet.

There was no sign of his father in the sitting room, but the dead couldn't help but hear the slamming of drawers and rustling of parchment coming from Severus' private study.

Still not knowing what had set his father into such a state, Harry kept up his state of vigilance as he slowly pushed the already partially open door. It seemed as though his father had finally found what he was looking for and was scrawling violently on a piece of parchment.

From his place by the door, Harry could hear his father mumble to himself, "Where is that blasted boy?"

"Uh…Dad?" Harry asked nervously as he opened the study door farther. "Is there something wrong?"

Well that's a stupid question, Harry cringed inwardly.

His father never looked up from his frantic writing as he said tersely, "Pack your things. We're leaving tonight."

"Leaving?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide his confusion. "What happened? Were you sacked?"

"No, I wasn't sacked," his father answered through gritted teeth—still writing as though his life depended on it. "What possible reason would the Headmaster have to sack me right now? Don't ask silly questions."

Harry couldn't think of any offence Severus could have done in an empty castle that would warrant his dismissal. But why the sudden hurry to leave? Unless…

"We've been found out, haven't we? Harry asked, pushing back his rising panic as best he could. "He's sending someone to kill you."

"Not today, and not any other day, if I have something to say about it," Severus replied cryptically as he deftly rolled up the parchment. Did Voldemort not find out about them yet? Or did he find out and was biding his time to kill Severus?

Harry's father looked up at him with eyes as stony as onyx and said sternly, "Didn't I tell you to pack." It came across more as an order than a question.

Before Harry could ask another question his father called out, "Dobby!"

Harry jumped at the sudden crack of displaced air. He wondered if he ever would get used to the sound, as his skin crawled. Sometimes it invoked images of Death Eaters Apparating to a dark, long forgotten cemetery. But Harry's apprehension turned to delight when he looked over and realised exactly which house-elf his father had summoned.

"Oh, Harry Potter's Father, sir," the happy elf squeaked as he jumped from one foot to another. "Dobby was honoured when Headmaster Dumbledore asked him to serve you here at Hogwarts. What is it Dobby can do for you?"

"I do not care how many house elves it takes—I want these chambers packed by tonight!"

"Yes Sir, Harry Potter's Father, sir. Dobby will see to it." Harry would had been amused by the choice of title the little elf had chosen for the grim Potions Master, if it wasn't for the slight look of trepidation in the elf's eyes before he popped way.

"Harry, don't just stand there. Do as you're told. I have to deliver this to the Headmaster. I shouldn't be more than a half-hour." Harry was quite literally taken aback when his father shouldered past him as he left his study.

Harry blinked and gathered his senses. "I don't understand. What's going on? What is that you're delivering to the Headmaster?" Harry asked almost accusingly.

"Don't ask questions and just do as you are told," Severus snapped as he determinedly marched towards the door.

His father turned around. The scowl on his face and flash in his eyes was something Harry hadn't seen since the days of the old Snape. "Are you deaf or are we going to have a serious talk about your insolence? Pack, Harry or I'll have the house-elves do it for you!" he snapped.

Harry had had enough. For once in his life, he was going to get some straight answers. He would deal with his father's anger later. He drew out his wand and called out, "Accio Dad's parchment!"

Harry would have thought that the startled look on his father's face was humorous when his magic forcibly yanked the parchment from Severus' hands, but he didn't have time to think about any grim consequences of his 'insolence'. With the reflexes of a Seeker, Harry snatched the parchment as it flew towards him.

"Harry! What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Getting some damned answers, that's what," Harry snapped back, as he resolutely unrolled the parchment and deciphered his father's scrawl. A lump gathered in his throat and he was afraid he was about to choke on his own rising anger.

"Resigning?" Harry waved the parchment accusingly. "When were you going to let me in on this?"

"What is in that parchment is none of your concern! Now hand it over and go pack!" Severus ordered.

"NO!" Harry bellowed defiantly. "I will not just obediently upheave my entire life until you tell me what the bloody hell is going on here!"

Harry's rage ebbed as his father visibly deflated. "Harry, sit…please," his dad said in resignation as he gestured to the couch. "I suppose you are right. If I'm going to whisk you away from everyone and everything you ever cared for, I at least owe you an explanation as to why."

Harry mulled on what his father had just said and was slightly taken aback that he hadn't been hexed for his Accio stunt. But he obliged his father and slowly took a seat on the sofa. More of his anger began ebb away now that he knew he was going to get some real answers.

Severus sank down into his squishy chair and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. The softness of the cushions did not seem to have any effect on his father's tense posture as he seemed to ponder upon how to open up a particularly sticky topic. "Harry…The Headmaster has asked me to publicly reveal that I have been released from the Dark Mark."

Harry blinked again as he was once again caught off guard by his father. The statement was blunt and directly to the point. But Harry didn't let himself dwell on Severus' abrupt turn on the conversation, but instead, thought about his father's statement.

"What's so bad about that?" Harry couldn't see the problem. If Voldemort didn't already know, he would certainly know soon enough. "Let the world see that the 'Dark Lord' is fallible after all," he said.

His dad shook his head as it hung down so he couldn't look Harry in the eyes. "That isn't the problem. It is the intention of the Headmaster to draw out disenchanted Death Eaters with the promise of you removing their Marks."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Something didn't add up. "I have a feeling there is more to this than you're letting on. The Death Eaters seemed like a pretty enthusiastic lot that night in the graveyard," Harry said bitterly. "Why would they suddenly be 'disenchanted'?"

How on earth Severus had ever considered Harry dim-witted in the past was beyond him. The boy missed nothing. Severus saw no way around it—he was going to have to tell Harry everything. And when it came down to brass tacks, Harry had the right to know.

Severus was exhausted. He was coming down from the adrenaline rush induced by his anger and he felt as though he had been trampled by a hippogriff. He admitted wearily, "Harry…I don't know where to begin."

"Well…I always found the beginning a good place to start," his son said sagely.

Severus tried to suppress the wry smile that threaded his lips at his son's cheek. "When did you become so wise?" he said under his breath. There was really no way to sugar-coat the tale, so once again Severus thought it best to simply tell the straight truth, as ugly as it was. "It began with the Dark Lo…," Severus hesitated realising that his old fears were now unfounded. "I mean, Voldemort's …humiliation over your escape this past spring…," he haltingly began.

It took over an hour for Severus to tell Harry everything—the potion, Voldemort's insane quest for omnipotence, the intended child sacrifices, the circumstances behind the death of Vincent Crabbe, the Dark Mark, Dumbledore's scheme for a Death Eater revolt…everything.

It was an effort, even harder than Severus imagined it would be. He felt as if he were whittling away at the little childhood innocence that Harry had left. It wasn't fair to his son. Severus knew that life wasn't fair in general, but didn't his son deserve to at least have some part of his childhood left intact?

Severus' nerves were raw. Harry hadn't said a word. Not one question as Severus spoke of Voldemort's plans and Dumbledore's intentions. Harry sat on the couch the entire time and listened intently. Now he sat in pensive silence, leaning forward, grasping his hands and resting his elbows on his kness Severus nearly jumped out of his skin when Harry suddenly broke the silence.

"I think we should do this."

Severus' eyes shot up and he looked at his son in stunned disbelief. That was not the reaction he expected from Harry. "What? Harry…NO!"

No!

This wasn't going to happen. The Headmaster might encourage such folly and delusions of divine grandeur in one of his precious Gryffindors but Severus wasn't about to offer his son up as a sacrificial lamb!

Severus stood up, intending on taking advantage of his height to intimidate the boy into listening to reason, but Harry abruptly stood up too, turning his face up to Severus and meeting his hard gaze.

"No! I've sat and listened to you for the past hour without saying a word. Now it's time for you to listen to me!" his boy interjected before Severus could begin a new tirade.

"Harry, I have no intention of letting you go off half-cocked on some damn-fool Gryffin…"

"Dad, please!"

That was all it took. One plea from Harry and a look of desperation from behind those damn emerald eyes, and suddenly the fight had left Severus' body. Severus knew he wouldn't agree to whatever madness the boy was about to suggest, but his son did deserve to be heard. Severus wondered if he was getting soft.

Severus hitched his trousers as he gradually lowered himself back into his favourite chair. "Alright," he said conceding the floor to his son. "I'll listen. Just don't expect me to agree to anything."

"That's all I ask," Harry agreed as he slowly sat back down on the sofa just by Severus' elbow. "You know, people may not realize this…hell, you probably don't either, but I've been fighting for my life almost every day since I started Hogwarts," the boy said gravely.

"I'm actually well aware of that fact, Harry," Severus said. "I've been trying to keep you from breaking your scrawny neck since you stepped through the castle doors. But I don't see what this has to d…"

"I'm not thick. I know that Voldemort's return is going to bring on a full-on war. It's just a matter of when. You and I know that like it or not, I'm going to be involved and I have a sneaking suspicion that he's not going to wait until I'm of age to make it a fair fight."

Severus had to agree with his son's assessment of that point. But he could not conscionably sit idly by whilst his underage son put himself at risk. "Harry, we can still leave," Severus argued— rather pathetically, if he were to be honest with himself.

"Boy, becoming a parent must put people under some kind of spell," Harry half scoffed. "The old Professor Snape would agree with me."

Severus half smiled. Harry was right—parenthood did induce its own sort of magic. Albus had alluded to as much. "Actually, I agree with you wholeheartedly. It is the very reason I think we should leave."

Harry shook his head. "It won't matter if we go into hiding. The war will eventually catch up to us. If we run from this, that only means more people are going to die. We're talking about kids, Dad," he added almost pleadingly.

"And I don't want you to be one of them!" Severus said heatedly.

"I don't want to be one of them either," Harry shot back. "But I don't think I can live with myself knowing that I could have done something to save others."

Gryffindors, Severus bemoaned silently as he began rub his temples in a vain attempt to nurse the headache that refused to go away.

"Harry, it doesn't matter how hard you try; you're going to set yourself up for heartbreak if you think you can save the world. Contrary to what Gryffindors might tell you during orientation, you can't save everyone."

Harry shook his head as if trying to rid his brain of Severus' argument. Severus noted that Harry didn't flinch on his jab about Gryffindors. "But we won't save any if we just run away and do nothing."

"And if we leave now we can buy time. I can train you until you are ready."

Harry scoffed, "Let's face it, Dad. It won't matter how old or how well trained I am, you'll never think I'm ready. And I'm not talking about fighting, anyway. All you'll have to do is protect me long enough to do what has to be done."

Crossing his arms and legs, Severus turned slightly away from Harry. If truth be told, he found the idea of running away every bit as distasteful as Harry did. But what could he do? He had just found his son. He was blind to everything else, only that he had to keep his son safe at all costs. He didn't want to listen to what Harry had to say anymore because he was finding his son's words to be true. As much as Severus wanted to shut this conversation out, without realising he articulated the thought, he heard himself softly say, "And what do you propose we do?"

To Severus' misery, Harry took advantage of the unintended opening. Harry leaned in closer and said, "The way I see it, if I remove these Dark Marks, we will accomplish two goals. Not only will we be taking away from Voldemort's numbers, we will simultaneously be saving dozens of children."

"Harry, I cannot agree to this," Severus said vehemently. "Do you realise what will happen once word gets out? If you do this, the Dark Lord will be set on capturing you. He will become obsessed with it and he will stop at nothing until he finds you. And he will not let you die easily. Oh, no! He won't be satisfied until he drinks in the last ounce of your pain... until he has you begging for death."

Images of the tortures Severus had witnessed in the past flashed through his brain. Faces—some known to him, some nameless—morphed into Harry's.

Severus jumped up so violently from his chair he almost knocked it on end. "No," Severus said again defiantly. "It is too dangerous. Even with the entire Order at our disposal, I cannot guarantee your safety."

Severus stood with his back to his son. He wanted nothing more in all the world than for this conversation to be over and to be gone with his son. All he wanted to do was to give his son a semblance of a normal life—something the boy had been sorely denied and the lack of which had been gnawing guiltily upon Severus' conscience. Now it seemed that Severus would be powerless to give his own son this one simple gift. He felt helpless. It was an emotion he hadn't felt for many years and he wasn't handling it well.

"Dad, you know better than I do that life doesn't come with a guarantee."

Severus turned to find Harry standing directly behind him. The soft look in Harry's deep green eyes had undone his anger. No…he wasn't angry. He was afraid—afraid of losing his reason for caring—the only thing Severus gave a damn about, his son.

But there was no fear in Harry's eyes, only determination to do the right thing as he saw it.

"You know, you haven't even heard my idea, so how do you know if it's a good one or not?"

Severus resigned himself to the fact that Harry deserved to have his say. As much as he hated to admit it, the boy should have a say in his own destiny.

Severus gave a short nod. He sat at the corner of the sofa and patted the cushion next to him, inviting Harry to join him. "Here's your chance. What is this grand scheme you have in mind?"

Harry sat next to Severus. The boy was as serious as Severus could ever remember him. "Well," Harry said. "I think Professor Dumbledore is right. You should let everybody know about your Dark Mark vanishing. But I also think we need to take it a couple of steps farther."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "A couple of steps further," he parroted suspiciously.

"Yeah, a couple of steps further," Harry repeated. "I also think that we should announce our relationship, and I think we should let the other Death Eater's children know what's going on."

"What? Harry, you're barking!"

Harry stifled a snort. "I haven't spent that much time with Sirius."

Severus had to sit back and calm himself. If he wasn't careful his impatience would manifest itself in anger again. "I fail to see the humour in the situation Harry," he said stiffly. "If you have a point to make, I suggest you make it quickly or you might as well go pack."

"I'm being dead serious, Dad." Harry said, shaking his head once again. "If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. We will never have a better opportunity than to strike at Voldemort right now. He has only just returned and rather than try to solidify his base and gain allies, you tell me he's spent all summer looking for this potion. If we don't do something now, he'll never be weaker than he is today. He'll only get stronger."

Severus raised an eyebrow—impressed at his son's reasoning thus far. "Where did you learn such sound strategic logic?" he queried.

"You should try playing Wizard's Chess against Ron sometime," Harry said, grinning. "Coming up with a sound strategy sort of rubs off on you."

Severus scoffed inwardly. He doubted Ronald Weasley could strategize his way around a Gnome hole, much less a chessboard. But loathe though he was to admit it, Harry had captured Severus' interest. Honestly, it was a point Severus should have thought of himself, but his need to insure his son's safety had blinded him to some obvious facts.

But he did have to ask, "How does announcing our relationship and worrying the other children fit into your plan?"

"Well," Harry said, taking in a deep breath. "Not that I have any great sympathy for Death Eaters, but there have got to be a few that aren't exactly thrilled to see Voldemort's return." Harry's statement was closer to a question and Severus gave a simple conciliatory nod, confirming his son's assumptions.

Severus thought that if truth be told, most of the current Death Eater contingent was less than thrilled to see the return of their former master. Many had started their families and had settled into normal lives once the world had begun to settle down after the last war. Many of those were actually ashamed of their part in the first war. Some had probably not even told their wives or husbands of their past. More than one family was going to have their loyalties put to the test. The question was whether Death Eaters were loyal to their families or to the Dark Lord. Some no doubt believed that the only way to protect their families was to cast their lot with the newly reborn Dark Lord out of fear of retaliation. Severus could see where Harry's thought process was taking him.

"So you think that by letting people know about my Dark Mark and about…us," Severus managed after nearly swallowing the word, "that we can make them think twice about the validity of the Dark Lord's claim of power."

"Well, I suppose that's one way of saying it," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Think about it. If you knew that some kid reversed one of your master's most powerful spells, wouldn't you think twice about which side you were on?"

Severus only nodded in agreement. The boy did have a point.

"And what of those who don't want to go back," Harry continued. "Dad, I feel I can really do something worthwhile. I can offer them a real way out. Even if they don't join our side, we will at least be putting a dent in Voldemort's numbers."

Severus felt as if he was being pulled in two different directions and he was being torn apart. Thus far, Harry's argument was perfectly valid. If this proposal involved anyone but his son, Severus would have enthusiastically been the first to endorse it. But this was about Harry—his son—and Severus wasn't about to let him expose himself to Death Eaters.

"Harry," Severus said with a sigh, "I understand your frustration and your willingness to help. But this is just too dangerous. Perhaps if we…"

"No, Dad," Harry said defiantly. "If you don't help me with this, I'll find a way to do it myself. I've been sneaking past teachers and facing danger for longer than I care to admit. I'll do this either with or without you. Personally, I think I stand a much better chance with you."

Severus struggled to keep his temper in check. There was no point in arguing. It wouldn't matter if Severus kept the boy a virtual prisoner in their home, Harry would find a way out and run headfirst into danger on his own. Well…most likely with the Weasley boy and Ms Granger in tow instead of an adult and qualified wizard, and then how would he explain things to Molly and Arthur or the doctors Granger if something should happen to their children. Against every rational bone in his body, Severus found himself conceding.

"If…and I mean if I agree to allow you to do this," Severus said, pointing his finger at his son for emphasis, "we will do this according to my rules. Under no circumstances are you to meet with any Death Eater without my express say-so and presence," he said pointedly. "I mean this, Harry. There will be no more compromises and your little friends will not be tagging along."

Harry nodded. "Fair enough. I'll probably tell them, but I don't want Ron and Hermione coming with us. They'll stay if I tell them you're with me. There's nothing they can do and they'd be a distraction, anyway. But I still say we should let the Death Eaters' children know what's going on."

"Why?" Severus asked. "The fewer people who know about this the better."

"An hour ago I would have agreed with you. But I don't think that's the case anymore," Harry said seriously.

"How is causing a panic amongst children going to help our situation, Harry?" Severus reasonably inquired.

"Because those 'panicked children' are going to write home and ask their parents some very awkward questions."

Severus could feel his own eyes widen as he realised what the boy was saying, and Harry was right.

Harry must have sensed the shift in Severus' attitude because he said even more confidently, "From what you said to me, the Death Eaters know that Vincent's dad killed him, but they don't know why. If the Death Eaters knew what Voldemort was really up to, don't you think that at least the ones with children would do everything in their power to stop it? They'd be pounding down the doors of Grimmauld Place asking for our help. And you, Dad—they think of you as one of them. If they know that you are a father and that you managed to be rid of your Mark, the parents will have someone to rally around. You can be their beacon of hope."

Beacon of hope, Severus inwardly scoffed. How very Slytherin of Harry to attempt to play upon Severus' vanity by turning him into a hero. But Harry was right again to surmise that those who wanted to leave the Dark Lord's fold would need to know that not only could they find safe harbour, but sympathy. Not all who joined the Dark Lord's ranks did so because they were intent on evil. Many had joined because of a misguided youth or pressure from their families, or they simply had no place to turn and the Dark Lord had lured them in with the promise of a better life and a place to belong. Only after it was too late and there was no way out did they realise and come to regret the dark consequences of their youthful folly.

"Dad, we have to let the children know the danger they are in," Harry said soberly. "If I don't do this…what is to stop Voldemort from forcing these people to walk straight into Hogwarts and kidnap their own kids? It's only a matter of time before he finds another Potions Master and then the killing will really begin." Harry exhaled an exhaustive sigh.

"Dad…I don't want to run away. Like my father…I am no coward."

Severus tentatively reached out and carded his fingers through his dark hair. Harry closed his eyes and smiled a sad smile, but he seemed to enjoy the sensation all the same. Severus' thumb inadvertently touched the boy's scar. Harry's breath hitched at the unexpected contact, but he did not draw away.

Without knowing why he felt the need to do so—only that he felt the need—Severus pulled Harry into his chest and embraced him.

"I love you, Dad."

For a moment, everything seemed to stop and Severus wondered if the world had come to an end. He almost wished it were true because he could have died a happy man right at that moment.

Severus pulled away and looked into Harry's almond shaped eyes and found no deceit in them. It had been a decade and a half, but Severus recognised the look in his son's eyes. Love—love and trust. He had not seen it since before Lily had….

Severus pulled his son back to him. Harry retuned the embrace as Severus kissed the top of his head and buried his cheek into the boy's hair. The spicy-sweet mixture of potions ingredients clung to the boy and Severus' heart clinched with pride. This brave, brave boy was his son.

It must have come as instinct or some uncontrollable reaction, because before Severus knew what he was saying, he too admitted, "I love you too, son."

Severus smiled contently when he felt Harry's smile form on his shoulder. "But you are still grounded," he added cheekily.

Harry pulled out of the embrace and looked up at him aghast. "Grounded! Whatever for?"

"For blackmailing your father," Severus said, unaffected as he smoothed out his son's dishevelled hair and the boy looked up at him, nonplussed. "You don't think I'd forgotten that remark about you threatening to go out on these missions without me, do you?"

Harry still hadn't recovered from his surprise when he began to stutter for words, "But…but…"

"No 'buts', Harry," Severus said without sympathy. "Consider yourself lucky that you are only grounded until the beginning of term. That means no flying and no visiting with your friends."

Harry seemed to consider his punishment. "Well, I suppose I can live with that. Term begins in less than a week." Harry turned to go back to his lab and finish his studying when he suddenly turned back towards Severus. "You know, I think fatherhood is turning you soft."

Severus' eyes narrowed but he inwardly scoffed as he held back his amusement, "Would you care to add on another week for insulting me?"

Harry held up his hands. He was still holding onto the potion phial. "No, no, that's alright," he said nervously as he backed away and looked over his shoulder. Harry jerked his thumb in the direction of the lab. "I think I'll uh…I'll just go finish up my potion."

Severus sobered as he watched his son scamper back to his private lab. How much longer would Harry remain this certain and optimistic? How much longer until the brutal realities of war took away what little childhood innocence he had left?

Severus would have to think long and hard on ways to keep his son safe while he set out on the task of removing Dark Marks. Severus hated to admit that the idea was sound, because it could not work without Harry. But it was true that the Dark Lord was as weak as he would ever be and if they did not take advantage of his weakness now, the opportunity might never present itself again—especially if he managed to get that cursed potion brewed. Yes…now was the time to strike. But damn it, why in the name of Mercy did Harry have to be their sword?

A sea of red flooded Platform 9 ¾ that day. The red cloaks looked more like an unlikely Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Bulgaria than a train depot. The Aurors were simply everywhere.

Minister Fudge and his toadies at the Daily Prophet were no longer able to deny the evidence regarding You Know Who's return. The wizarding world wanted protection and by Merlin, their elected officials had better give it to them. Fudge was going to have a hard enough time winning re-election, he had to act or commit political suicide.

By opening her home up to investigators, Elise Crabbe had revealed truths that hit the wizarding world like a full-on rogue Bludger. Her husband, Maximilian, had never been known for his subtlety… or his wit. In his journal he had left detailed information about times and places where Death Eater meetings had been. Severus had given a sigh of relief that the moron hadn't mentioned any names. It was easy for the Aurors to find the leftover traces of inconceivably Dark Magic that had been cast at these places. It was the same magical signature left after the last war. It was the Dark Lord's.

If Maximilian Crabbe was not already a dead man, he soon would be. Elise Crabbe was fully aware that if the wizarding authorities did not get their hands on her husband—the Dark Lord would.

The details behind her son's death were not fully disclosed because they were not fully known. What was known, however, was that Maximilian took Vincent to be introduced to the Dark Lord. It did not take too much speculation to surmise who was involved from there.

The usually energized atmosphere of Platform 9 ¾ was somewhat subdued. Children, who were normally hopping about the platform as if someone let loose a box of chocolate frogs, meeting with old friends after their summer holidays and generally causing havoc, were now clinging closely to their parents' sides, trying to garner any scrap of information from the hushed adult conversations. The adults were huddled together in little groups, whispering about the events that had come to light over the past couple of days.

The muted whispers going about weren't only about You Know Who. They were mostly about The Boy Who Lived and the Hogwarts Potions Master.

Severus Snape had claimed that he—not the sainted James Potter—was Harry Potter's real father.

Albus Dumbledore had called a press conference in Hogwarts Great Hall to break the news and, astonishingly, Harry Potter had started the necessary paperwork in order to legally change his name from "Harold James Potter" to "Harold Severus Snape."

Severus Snape's assertion would have been summarily dismissed as a hoax. But to the shock and dismay of most of Britain, the Paternity Charm had validated the former Death Eater's claims.

That wasn't the only breaking scandal. Apparently there was such a thing as a Former Death Eater, contrary to what had previously been believed by most. When a particularly acid tongued reporter, looking for some muck to rake, had asked Severus to bare his left arm as proof, Severus willingly obliged. It was said that the silence that overtook the Great Hall was deafening before the barrage of questions started to fly.

What was his relationship with Lily Potter? How was Harry taking the news? How did Snape hide his loyalties from You Know Who? How did Snape rid himself of the Dark Mark? Why reveal all of this now?

These questions and many more were asked. Only two were answered.

Severus and Lily had been engaged and she went into hiding when she became pregnant in an effort to keep Harry and Severus safe from You Know Who… and Harry was thrilled and honoured to be the son of Severus Snape.

And speaking of the Snapes…there they were…standing bold as brass on Platform 9¾ along with the Weasleys and a great black dog that was obviously Harry's pet. They were seemingly unconcerned with the stares and whispers going on about them. It was if Severus Snape was just another ordinary father seeing Harry, his ordinary son, off to school.

Either the wizard was more powerful than he had ever let on…or he was a suicidal fool. Severus Snape had been called many things in his life, but no had ever considered him the latter.

Weren't they even concerned about an attack from You Know Who? Why were they even there? Didn't they already live at Hogwarts?

No one dared approach them to ask any questions. Not after a young reporter was foolhardy enough to approach Harry in order ask questions as he and the professor arrived on the platform. From the way the girl ran off in a jag of tears…it was apparent that fatherhood had done nothing to soften Severus Snape's infamous scathing vitriol.

Unbeknownst to the general populace, the only reason Severus and Harry were at the station that morning was to stir the rumour mill—and it was working. It was their intention to have Death Eaters question Voldemort and the limits of his power. Well…that…and Harry wanted to ride the train with his friends.

Presently, Severus and Harry were waiting alongside the Weasleys. Harry knelt down with his arm around Snuffles whilst innocently chatting with his mates about what the new term held in store. Molly and Arthur were in the middle of their own conversation.

Severus just stood there, looking impassive. Even without his customary black outer teaching robes he looked as intimidating as ever. Hell—he was intimidating and he bloody-well knew it. If it looked as if he and his companions weren't concerned about a Death Eater attack at that moment, it was true…they weren't…for the moment.

There were several reasons Severus knew they were safe from Voldemort at this point in time. Primarily, there were nearly as many undercover Order members on the platform as there were Aurors.

And thanks to Elise Crabbe, Voldemort had been caught off guard at the Riddle Manor and actually had to flee.

That had been an unexpected little bonus. It was about time the bastard's hubris was brought down a notch or two.

According to Lucius' intelligence, Riddle was now holed up in the little town of Brading on the Isle of Wight, in an effort to regroup. Needless to say, the Dark Lord was…vexed. Lucius claimed that the Dark Lord's tumultuous display of anger had been awesome to behold. It was a temper tantrum worthy of a two-year-old who just had his favourite toy taken away.

Not only had the Dark Lord's favourite Death Eater betrayed him, Severus had miraculously found a way to counter the Mark, and to add insult to injury— he was Harry Bloody Potter's bloody father.

Unfortunately for Yaxley and Rolfe, they were in the closest proximity to the Dark Lord. They had been on the receiving end of some singularly nasty random curses. They were both dead now. Though the Dark Lord would never admit it, or perhaps it didn't even occur to him, the loss of those two particular Death Eaters was one he could ill afford—they were ruthless, they were loyal, and now they were dead.

Severus thought that it was just as well. Yaxley and Rolfe both had children who attended Durmstrang. Both wizards were as barmy as the Lestranges and were demented enough to willingly sacrifice their children to Voldemort. That was two fewer devotees to worry about and two more children who would live to see the sun rise again.

With any luck, the Order might have a month or so before things started getting ugly again. It would be time well spent planning strategy for when Voldemort made his next appearance. Already the first line of defence had been put in place for the children.

Severus scanned the platform. No mistake about it—there were Death Eaters about, but like the other parents, they were there to see their children off on the train. Even if Severus had not known most of them personally, they were easy enough to spot. One could not help but notice the unconcealed looks of loathing, curiosity, and sometimes the mixture of both, levelled at Severus and his teenaged son.

The Malfoys and the Goyles stood together. Gregory looked lost without his long-time companion- . Draco too, looked a little unsure himself. Perhaps he actually missed his little sycophant. Lucius deliberately avoided looking in Severus' direction whilst David Goyle could not stop glaring daggers at the traitor.

Severus looked about and casually observed other Death Eater families: the Notts, the Averys, the Gibbons, the Jugsons, the Bradstones, the Cootes, just to name a few. Some loyal to Voldemort, others not so much—however, Severus saw none whom he would consider mad enough sacrifice their children.

The relative silence on the platform was suddenly broken when the conductor cried out, "ALL ABOARD!"

Severus looked back to see Harry give his goodbye embraces to the elder Weasleys and an especially long embrace to his goddog.

Earlier that morning, Severus had explained to the mutt that he was taking an unnecessary risk seeing Harry off the platform with Ministry Aurors about. But Black was nothing if not dogged. Severus explained to him in little words that, as far as Severus was concerned, it was neither here nor there what risk Black put himself in. But if anyone were to suspect anything at all, Black would remain the mangy cur that he was. Severus would Obliviate Black's memory and claim that "Snuffles" was nothing more than a stray that Harry had picked up from off the streets. That bit of offered charity was for Harry's sake; if it were simply left up to Severus' sensibilities, he'd just as well see Black to the dog warden.

When Harry had finished saying his goodbyes to the others he walked to Severus and stood proudly before him.

"Are you sure that you would rather ride the train, Harry?" Severus asked as he brushed an errant hair out of his son's face. Harry had not bothered to get his hair cut before term. It was starting to grow down his neck and past his cheeks. "We can just as easily Apparate to the front gates," Severus offered.

"No, that's alright…I want to ride with my friends. Sorta a tradition, you know," Harry added with a sheepish shrug.

Hearing this heartened Severus. The boy had come such a long way over the course of the summer.

"Besides," Harry continued, "I don't want the other kids to think that I have something to hide or that I am ashamed of being your son."

As much as Severus would have liked to embrace his son at that moment, he kept his arms crossed in a determined effort to resist the temptation. He would never feel comfortable with public displays of affection. He simply nodded and said, "If you need anything, Shacklebolt and Tonks will be close at hand."

"I know," Harry said, "and I promise to behave myself."

Severus knew what Harry meant by that. Harry was not to approach Draco or any other Death Eater children until they were safely ensconced behind the castle walls.

"I will hold you to that," Severus said gravely.

Severus patted Harry on the shoulder, then said, "You had better run along now. Your friends are waiting, and if you don't hurry, there will be no more empty compartments." It was important that they have a private compartment. Severus knew that the friends would be discussing Harry's mission.

Rather than let Harry's friends run around and get into trouble on their own in an effort to find out what Harry was up to—because they surely would—Severus allowed Harry to enlighten them on the situation, with the clear understanding that this was not to be discussed with or within the earshot, of anyone else, including the Weasley siblings. It wasn't as if Harry was going to keep this secret from his little friends, as it was. But Severus knew that Weasley and Granger were loyal and more reliable with Harry's secrets than many adults in the Order would be. By allowing Harry to keep his friends in the know, he would give the boy a sense of control, which was something Harry sorely needed right now.

Harry looked over his shoulder to see his friends waiting for him before they boarded. "Thanks," he said with a smile as he ran off to join them.

"I'll see you at school, Dad!" Harry yelled as he boarded the train. Time seemed to stand still as the crowd on the platform seemed to freeze and turn their attention to Severus. Severus showed them all the concern they deserved—none.

It wasn't long before all of the students had boarded and the giant crimson engine began to heave and huff its way out of the station through a curtain of white steam. Children hung out the windows, shouting and waving to their families as the train slowly chugged its way by.

Severus caught sight of Harry and his friends; they too were leaning out the windows and waving frantically like all of the other excited children. Severus could not hear Harry over the chatter and the clanging of steel on steel, or the puffing of the steam engine, but he could see Harry's lips move as he shouted "Bye, Dad."

Severus did not call back, but he did raise his arm to wave goodbye. His insides began to twist and he felt as if something was pulling on his heart as he watched the train take his son away.

Suddenly, Severus felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It was Arthur Weasley. "Don't worry yourself, Severus," Arthur said as he, too, sadly watched the train roll by. "You never get used to it."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Platform 9¾ finally vanished into the distance, Harry, Ron and Hermione settled back into their compartment. With Aurors on board the train, there was no need for Ron and Hermione to start their Prefect duties until they reached Hogsmeade.

Hermione sat down next to her bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, who was presently taking a keen interest in Ron's little scops owl, Pigwidgeon.

"Keep your ruddy cat away from Pig, Hermione," Ron warned as he tried to catch the overly excitable little bird. Ron hadn't locked his cage properly and the little owl was zipping around the cabin.

Harry eyed the fluttering little owl. With skilled honed by four years as a Quidditch Seeker, Harry adroitly snatched the little bird in mid-flight. "There you are Ron," said Harry as he stroked Pig's feathers in an effort to calm him. "No harm done," he assured as he handed Ron the squirming bird.

"Thanks, Harry," said Ron as he made sure Pig's cage was secure this time. "Harry…how are you going to go about telling the Slytherins?"

"Telling the Slytherins what, Ron?" Harry asked.

"About the potion, Harry," Hermione whispered, casting her eyes about though there was no one else to hear. "How are you going to approach them about their parents?"

"Hold on a moment," Harry said. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the compartment door. "Muffliato."

Harry couldn't risk anyone listening in on their conversation and he used the handy spell his dad had taught him just the night before.

"Well to begin with," Harry said in a near whisper despite the spell, "not everybody is in Slytherin."

"What?" Ron exclaimed in disbelief as he fed Pig an owl treat. "My Uncle Bilius told me that all Death Eaters came from Slytherin."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Hagrid told me something like that my first year." Thinking back, Harry really wished his giant friend hadn't said anything on the matter. It was that fact alone, even more than not wanting to associate with the likes of Draco Malfoy, that made Harry convince the Sorting Hat not to put him in Slytherin. Would his dad have treated him differently? Would they have discovered their relationship sooner? Harry lamented the wasted years.

"Well come to think about it, that is a little ridiculous," said Hermione after she thought about her own presumption. "After all—Peter Pettigrew was in Gryffindor."

"I suppose there's an exception to every rule," Ron said grudgingly.

"It isn't an exception and there are no rules, Ron," Harry explained, slightly exasperated. "Every House has students that have Death Eater parents."

"That can't be right, Harry," Ron said, scandalized. "Surely there's no one in Gryffindor who is a Death Eater."

"None of the students are Death Eaters, Ron—just their parents." Hermione said sensibly.

"Hermione's right, Ron. We can't go around blaming kids for what their mum and dad might be doing—and yes—there are some families in Gryffindor." Harry told them. "The rub is that not everybody knows that their dads or mums are Death Eaters. I don't know if I can get them all to believe me."

"You know, Harry…perhaps you don't need to tell everyone," Ron suggested, even though he was still trying come to grips with the notion that there were Gryffindor Death Eaters. "Maybe you only need one or two to believe you."

"How do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I figure that if their parents know each other, there's a good chance that the kids do. I know quite few whose parents work for the Ministry. You know—dinner parties and such. Find someone who has a lot of social contacts and go from there. Let it get out through the tomato vine."

Harry snorted and Hermione chuckled when she said, "That's grapevine, Ronald."

Ron just shrugged, apparently figuring he was close enough.

Harry always knew Ron had a gift for strategy. That's why he was practically unbeatable in Wizard's Chess. "Well…I was already planning on enlisting Malfoy's help," Harry admitted.

Hermione asked, "Doesn't Draco already know, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Mr Malfoy couldn't risk Draco saying something before he was safe behind Hogwarts' walls."

It was ironic, but now that Lucius Malfoy was a spy, he could not have his Dark Mark removed. Mr Malfoy could not risk that Voldemort might break through his Occlumency shields and force him to present Draco. As much as Harry disliked Draco and as distasteful as the thought of an alliance with any Malfoy was to him, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for his rival.

Harry was suddenly brought out of his musings over the Malfoys when he noticed, with great irritation, that there were many more students passing by their compartment than there normally would be. Some even had the audacity to look in the window. He was sure that it would only be a matter of time before someone came barging in.

Harry said soberly, "You know guys…I think we need to end this conversation."

"You know why they're doing that, don't you, Harry?"

"Let's see, Ron. It wouldn't have anything to do with Professor Snape being my dad, would it?" Harry snapped unintentionally. Harry thought he would have been over the overt stares of strangers by now, but it was still something he didn't think he would ever get quite used to and it honestly set his teeth on edge.

Ron looked a little taken aback by Harry's biting remark and said in his defence, "Well, it's not just that, Harry."

"You do look quite a bit like the Professor now," Hermione elaborated on Ron's behalf and Ron gave her a thankful look.

"Really?" Harry asked as he felt his face. He knew he looked more like his dad, but he had gradually gotten used to the face he now saw in the mirror, as though it had always been himself. There was still enough of James Potter left that he was still recognizable. But most of his classmates were seeing his new face for the first time. The difference must have been striking.

"Well, your hair started growing…maybe it brings out more of your 'Snape-ish' features." Ron said, apparently thinking it was a sound theory.

Hermione chuckled, "Ronald, that's just plain silly. Harry's hair didn't just start growing because Professor Snape has long hair. He just hasn't had a haircut this summer."

Ron just rolled his eyes. "I know that, Hermione. I just said it made him look like his dad. Hopefully greasy hair isn't hereditary, though," snorted Ron as he tried to suppress his laughter.

Harry couldn't help but smile, even though the joke was at his dad's expense. "Geeze, Ron, thanks a lot. You know, I'd hate to see what that ginger mop of yours would look like if you spent as much time in a potions lab."

"No worry in that—is there, mate?" Ron continued to snicker.

The light-hearted mood of the three friends abruptly melted away when Hermione's face dropped and her attention turned to the window. "Where did everybody go?"

The mass of humanity that was once outside the compartment had now dispersed, but the answer as to why became abundantly clear when Kingsley Shacklebolt approached their compartment and let himself in without knocking first.

"Are you kids alright in here?" It was no wonder the throng outside of Harry's window vanished. Between his commanding voice and his immense stature, Kingsley Shacklebolt looked every bit as foreboding as Severus Snape did in the classroom.

"I'm alright. Do you lot need anything?" Harry turned and asked his friends.

"I haven't seen the food trolley yet," Ron said as he absently rubbed his stomach.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry knew it was because Ron's first thoughts were almost always of food, and it was a point of contention between his two best mates. "No thank you, Mr Shacklebolt, I'm fine. But I do think I'll head to the lavatory now that the crowd is gone. I'd like to change into my robes."

"Wait until I can get Tonks to escort you, Miss Granger—and I'll see that the food trolley makes its way down here, Mr Weasley," Shacklebolt said as he flashed an amused smile at Ron, then left the compartment as quickly and quietly as he came. No sooner had he gone than it seemed as if the students popped out of the woodwork once more and began to find their way by the trio's cabin.

Hermione reached up to the overhead storage compartment to retrieve her rucksack. "Why are you changing now?" asked Ron, slightly miffed. "We won't even arrive for some hours yet."

"I want to change before there's a rush on the loo later," Hermione said sensibly.

Hermione apparently had forgotten that she was supposed to wait for Tonks, for she reached for the sliding door. She jumped back with alarm when the marked, yet out of place, sound of Apparition caught her off-guard.

The cries of terrified students rang through the passenger car as curses and running children flew by the compartment.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately drew their wands and Ron and Hermione had instinctively flanked Harry. Ron faced the door, while Hermione kept watch for anyone that might impossibly come through the window or Apparate directly into the cabin behind them.

"What the bloody hell was that!" Ron cried. He was shaking slightly from fear, but the determination in voice to protect Harry was equally clear.

The fidelity of his friends would have made Harry's heart swell with pride, if he hadn't realised how much their lives had turned pear-shaped because of him. They had sacrificed normal lives for the sake of Harry and Harry could never make it up to them, even if he lived to be even older than Dumbledore.

Hermione answered shakily, "I…I don't know!" Harry knew that she was scared too, but, like Ron, would die before she let Harry be taken. Harry would happily do the same for his friends without a second thought.

Harry's nerves were slightly more steeled than his friends as he yelled over the din of the chaos floating through the thin walls and windows. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear it sounded like somebody Apparated."

"Who would be thick enough to Apparate onto a moving train?" Ron asked.

But as quickly as the chaos started, the train became deathly quiet. Harry and his friends looked about liked frightened hares wondering where the foxes would finally emerge.

He hoped that the Aurors had the situation under control. Harry, Ron and Hermione breathed a collective sigh of relief when that was apparently the case as a young, yet stern, female voice cut the unnatural silence.

"EVERYBODY! BACK TO YOUR CABINS NOW!"

As the scramble began for the students to return to their respective cars, Tonks slid open the compartment door. "Harry! Ron, Hermione! Are you three alright?" The young Auror's hair was as red as a fire engine and she had a deep, bloody gash on her left shoulder.

"Yeah…we're all fine," Harry said as they lowered their wands and Ron stepped aside to let him step forward. "But what about you? What happened?"

Tonks shut the cabin door and cast a spell that Harry didn't recognise.

"We don't want anyone to walk in uninvited," she explained, then turned back soberly to Harry and his friends. "Death Eaters—two of them," Tonks said directly to the point as she placed her wand back into her arm sheath. "And don't worry about this" she said, quickly pointing to her bloody shoulder. "It looks worse than it is."

"Spoken like a true hero," Harry said cynically. "I thought we had Voldemort on the defensive." He instantly suspected Lucius Malfoy. Had he somehow found a way to fool Harry's dad and the Headmaster? It wasn't impossible. Snape had managed to fool Voldemort and his followers for years.

Tonks shook her head. "This looks like it was an unauthorized attack, Harry" she told him. "There were only two, and one of them is dead."

"Dead!" Hermione gasped. Ron pulled her close to and mumbled something into her ear that Harry didn't catch.

"He was splinched," Tonks said as she shuddered. Harry shuddered too, just imagining the grisly sight. "The other managed a couple of curses before we brought her down."

Hermione asked with even more heightened concern, "Are the students alright?"

Tonks' hair had changed into the dark shade of azure she had previously been sporting that day. "Daphne Greengrass was Stunned, but she'll be fine," the Auror said.

"Who were the Death Eaters?" Harry wanted to know. It might give him an idea as to which students he could approach. He looked out the window as Kingsley Shacklebolt and three other Aurors dragged a kicking and screaming dark-skinned witch past their compartment.

"WHERE IS THE TRAITOR'S SON? THE DARK LORD WILL HAVE YOU, HARRY SNAPE!" she screamed manically as she was dragged forcibly into the next passenger car.

"And I suppose that answers my next question about who they were after?"

"That was Nicolette Stebbins. The corpse is Patrick Stimpson," Tonks said in a businesslike tone. "And yes, Harry…you were the target," she said, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Oh, no," Hermione moaned, unable to keep back her tears, "Not Patty's dad. Patty Stimpson is my study partner for Ancient Runes."

"And isn't there a Stebbins on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

That old twinge of guilt began to rise up in Harry. He should have just taken up his father's offer and Apparated back to Hogwarts.

But nooo…Harry wanted to ride the train with his friends…Harry wanted to be normal…and look what happened. One girl had just lost her father and another boy was going to lose his mother to Azkaban. Not only that, Harry's very presence had put everybody on the train in danger.

"Tonks—stop the train. My being here is putting everyone in danger. You can Apparate me back to Hogwarts."

Tonks shook her head. "No can do, kiddo. There is no way we're stopping the train. That would leave us even more vulnerable to an attack."

Tonks' explanation did nothing ease Harry's worry. If anything, it heightened it. "I thought that you said that the attack was unauthorized."

"It was. And they did a sloppy job of it too," She looked at Harry, her eyes softened with understanding. "Harry…you aren't to blame for this."

Harry asked bitterly, "Oh really? Then who is?"

"Nicolette Stebbins and Patrick Stimpson, that's who," Tonks answered bluntly. "They're the ones who were foolish enough to try to Apparate onto a moving train…with a dozen Aurors aboard, no less. Not only that—they risked hurting their own kids just so they could get their hands on you. If you ask me, they got what they deserved," she said coldly.

"True enough," agreed Harry half-heartedly, "But what about Hermione's friend and that poor bloke from Hufflepuff?"

This time Ron spoke up, "That doesn't change the fact that it's still their fault, mate. Those people chose to become Death Eaters, and now they're paying the price. It's not your fault that they're too selfish to care about their families."

"Besides, Harry," Hermione added as she wiped a sniffle with her handkerchief, still upset that her friend was about to find out that her dad was not only killed, but was a Death Eater. "You can't stand up to You Know Who just to turn around and hide from life. Don't go hiding yourself away again just because you think it will keep the attacks from coming…because it won't."

"Harry, although we thought it unlikely, we were aware of the possibility of an attack, and we got them before any real harm was done," Tonks said as she took Harry's hand and began to pat it. "And Hermione's right. Don't hide yourself away. For the first time ever we've got You Know Who on the run and many of his followers are beginning to rethink their loyalties, while others are panicked into making stupid mistakes."

Harry gave a reluctant nod. He knew that they were right. It still didn't make him feel better. Harry was just having trouble stomaching the fact that there would be innocent victims amongst his classmates.

"You know girls, I hate to burst the bubble on this little pep talk," Ron interjected, "but what Harry has to say about going out in public might not matter much anymore."

Harry looked up at his friend, and felt his face wrinkle in curiosity, but it was Hermione who asked, "Why do you say that, Ron?"

"Because Professor Snape's going to have Kneazles when he hears about this."

When the Hogwarts Express arrived at the depot in Hogsmeade, half of the village, along with the four Heads of Houses, were there to escort the students to the safety of the castle.

Severus assessed Daphne Greengrass, thankful that the girl seemed to be in one piece and with her wits still about her. Still, he would send his student straight to Poppy as soon as they arrived at the castle. An owl had already been sent to her parents, and Severus would make certain to speak to them as well.

Minerva and Pomona were not so fortunate. Ms Stimpson's aunt was there to escort her home. Severus had only been casually acquainted with Pat, but he knew him well enough to know that his family had not been aware of his loyalties. No doubt Mrs Stimpson was in as much of a state of shock as her young daughter.

Pomona had Randall Stebbins off to the side from the rest of her House, speaking with two sympathetic-looking Aurors. If anything, their sympathy seemed to be lost on Mr Stebbins. The stern-looking young man paid them no attention; he only stood there searching the crowd until his eyes found what they were looking for and became locked on Harry.

Severus needed to get to Harry and he had no time to worry about Minerva and Pomona's charges. Their parents had just tried to kill his son and there was no sympathy left in him for the children, no matter how innocent they might be. At that moment, Severus' only care was for his own child.

As Severus marched his way towards Harry and the children had wisely moved out of his way, he was strangely reminded of a Muggle film he had seen years ago—the one where the hand of God had parted the Red Sea.

Mr Weasley was the first to notice Severus approach and he nudged Harry with his elbow. "See, Harry…What did I tell you…Kneazles. The look on his face is enough to make You-Know-Who piss his robes."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said to his friend, his frayed nerves apparently caused a lump to form in his throat, making it to bob as he swallowed.

Even Ms Granger took a step back. Severus wondered if she even realised she had stepped behind Mr Weasley…as if the gangly teen could offer her any protection from the enraged Potions Master.

When Severus stood before his son, his words left no room for argument. "Harry, you are coming with me."

From the corner of his eye, Severus noticed Minerva approaching. There was no more sign of the Stimpson girl. Apparently, she had been given over to the care of her relatives.

"Severus, Harry is a Gryffindor and should ride to the castle with his own House," Minerva proclaimed valiantly, but Severus made her regret her Gryffindor bravado by simply turning to face her and narrowing his coal-black eyes. "Never mind…Mr Pott…Snape…go with your father," the Deputy Headmistress stammered as she backpedalled quickly. The old cat then wisely turned her attention to her other lions.

Harry gave his friends what seemed to be an apologetic look and said, "I'll see you at the feast, then."

Weasley and Granger seemed equally as sorrowful. Mr Weasley gave a pathetic little wave and a half-hearted smile as he said to Harry, "Sorry, Mate."

Severus abruptly turned and stalked back to where his House awaited him. Harry must have hesitated, because it was a full five seconds later that he heard Harry's trainers approaching quickly to catch up.

Even from a distance, Severus could hear Mr Weasley comfort Ms Granger. Honestly—one would believe that Harry was being carted off to Azkaban, rather than being escorted up to the castle. "Don't worry, Hermione … Harry'll be just fine," The boy said in a tone that seemed more of an attempt to convince himself than Ms Granger.

Severus pulled Harry around to the far side of their carriage so they would not to be seen by prying eyes. The students were all boarding the carriages according to Houses. There would be two Aurors along with the Head to escort each House back to the castle. After word of the attack on the train got back to the villagers, many of them would ride or fly alongside the procession in an effort to protect the children.

As they neared the carriage, Harry began to hesitate. Severus turned irritably towards his son to chastise him for dragging his feet, when he noticed the look in the boy's eyes. Harry looked absolutely terrified.

Instantly something inside Severus began to panic. Had Harry been hurt after all? Was the boy trying to hide his injuries? Harry wasn't moving. Why wasn't Harry moving?

The boy didn't look injured but his eyes were focused intensely in the distance. Severus turned and followed the boy's troubled gaze. He instantly knew what had Harry so alarmed.

"Harry," Severus asked in a valiant effort to keep his voice level, "have you ever seen a Thestral before?"

Harry looked up to Severus with scared, wide eyes. It was almost enough to tear Severus' heart out. The boy looked closer to five than fifteen. The boy looked back at the beasts and shook his head. "No," he said—his voice was quavering. "What are they?"

"They're Thestrals," Severus said, looking back at the creatures with sympathy, "vastly misunderstood creatures."

"Oh, yeah," Harry said in a voice that sounded unconvinced. "That's what Hagrid said about Dragons."

Severus looked at the equine creatures with more scrutiny than he had given them in years. He supposed they did rather resemble a Muggle genetics experiment between a horse and a vampire bat gone south.

"Yes…well…I can see where they could put some people off," Severus objectively conceded," but I assure you, they are quite gentle."

Harry gave a considering look to the leather-skinned animals and began to tentatively walk towards the carriages once again, almost as if he were being drawn towards them. "I don't get it. I thought the carriages drove themselves. Why use these things now?"

"Thestrals have always drawn the school carriages, Harry. This is simply the first time you have seen them."

Harry turned to Severus with a look of curiosity and confusion. "I don't understand. The others don't seem to see them. Why can I all of a sudden see them now?"

For the most part, Harry was correct in his assessment. Most of the other children paid no attention to the Thestrals, but Severus noticed that a scattered few had been as taken by surprise as Harry had been. No doubt they had been the unfortunate few to have witnessed Stimpson's grisly demise.

Rather than lie to his son, Severus chose to sidestep the question. Severus had to focus on protecting Harry from present demons. He had neither the time nor desire to remind Harry of Cedric Diggory's death.

"Suffice it to say that you have not gone round the twist and the Thestrals are quite docile. They won't harm you," Severus said in a lame attempt to sound light hearted. It was as much of an effort to rid himself of the willies as it was his son.

Harry gave a short nod that Severus hoped that meant the boy believed him and the subject would be dropped. Severus' nerves were too on edge to explain why some can see Thestrals and others cannot. But the boy's pallor was still off and Severus could not shake his nagging worry.

He took his son's chin in his fingers and gently guided Harry to look him in the eyes. Severus had to quell his own astonishment at how much the boy had begun to look like him at that age. "Harry—tell me the truth. Were you hurt on the train?"

"No. Really, Dad, I'm fine. I guess I still have a bit of the collywobbles I was just caught off guard by the Thestrals, that's all."

Severus could detect no artifice in his son, but he still had to make certain. "Be that as it may, as soon as we reach the castle, Madam Pomfrey should have a look at you—get in," Severus ordered as he opened the door to the carriage. Then he used an easy charm on Harry's trunk and the luggage gracefully floated onto the bench inside.

Harry grudgingly obeyed Severus and sat on the bench opposite his trunk. "I don't see why I have to see her. I told you, I'm perfectly fine," Harry groused.

Severus gave no retort to his son's protests. Without getting in, he shut the carriage door and said, "Stay here while I make certain everyone is accounted for. I'll return shortly."

Severus cursed under his breath. He did not did not want to leave Harry alone, but he still had a responsibility to his House. Fortunately, unbeknownst to Harry or anyone else, Severus had already taken steps to assure that no one could get to his son while he conducted his head count.

Harry sat back in his seat, crossed his arms in a very Snape-ish manner and sulked (also very Snape-ishly). He gave a quick shudder when he saw the back of the Thestral's heads but decided to try to ignore them.

He had no idea what his father was up to, but presently he was four carriages down, speaking to Daphne Greengrass, who was now with her younger sister. Harry couldn't help but notice that his father never took his eyes off him for more than a second or two. Harry supposed he should feel appreciative that someone cared so much for him, but in truth, at the moment, Harry just felt annoyed. One of the main reasons he rode the train was so he could have a normal first-day experience with his friends. He had lost track of Ron and Hermione. The carriage Harry currently occupied was at the back of the Slytherin caravan and the Hufflepuff contingent was sandwiched between the Snakes and the Lions.

His father had made a gesture towards Harry's carriage and Daphne Greengrass and her sister looked in his direction and shook their heads. They then pointed to the carriage they were standing next to and the friends who awaited them. His father nodded and continued to count heads—always with one eye on Harry.

Harry was really annoyed now. Daphne Greengrass was the only student actually hurt during the attack, and his father was allowing her to ride with her friends! Harry grew tired of waiting and he was even more tired of being treated unfairly. He decided he was going to say as much to his father, but if he wanted to ride with Ron and Hermione, he needed to say something before his father returned to the carriage and they got underway.

Harry reached for the carriage handle. He jumped back away from the door as sparks flew out and zapped his fingers.

"Ow! Shite!" he exclaimed, and he began to suck on his abused fingertips. Of course his father would have warded the effing carriage!

Harry sank back into his seat in frustration and defeat, resigned to the fact that he would be riding to the castle with his father instead of his friends, no matter how unreasonable his father was being. If his dad could ward this carriage, surely he could ward one with Harry and his friends.

Harry sat there with his eyes closed, alone with his thoughts. Then, almost inexplicably, the strangest feeling crawled across his spine. Although he was certain that no one could touch him in the carriage, Harry suddenly felt exposed.

Harry slowly and reluctantly opened his eyes. The Slytherins in the coach in front of him were craning their heads and staring at him. Harry wondered if he had sprouted a second head. Just in case, Harry looked behind him. Perhaps they weren't staring at Harry, but at something in the distance. To Harry's annoyance, he was also being examined like some freakish zoo exhibit by the Hufflepuffs behind him. If Harry wasn't so sure that he would be given his first real punishment by his dad, not to mention a loss of House points, he'd stand up and give the lot of them a two-fingered salute. But rather than having to risk dissecting frogs for the next five months, Harry sunk back into his seat, and began to sulk once again—his arms crossed protectively over his chest, and his eyes shooting daggers at whoever dared to make eye contact with him.

After what seemed like hours, but probably wasn't more than five minutes, Severus finally returned to the carriage. Harry gawked in exasperation as his father entered the damned carriage as if the ward had never existed in the first place, and calmly sat himself next to Harry. To Harry's further irritation, his father was now sitting in the same manner Harry had been for the last five minutes. Upon realising this, Harry hastily uncrossed his arms and sat on his hands.

"How'd you do that?" Harry asked, leaning forward and indicating the carriage door.

His father only gave a quick glance to where Harry was indicated and asked with feigned innocence, "Do what?"

Harry was jerked into the back of his seat as the carriages abruptly began to move. "You know what I mean," he said jerkily as the clopping rhythm of the Thestral's hooves began to vibrate the carriage. "How did you manage to touch the door without getting hexed?"

"Magic." Harry never noticed the slight quiver at the corner of his father's lip.

In fact, Harry wanted to throw himself in front of the Thestrals. There was no sarcasm in the tone of Severus' voice, yet the irony hung so thickly in the air, one could slice it with a blade. How did he do that?

Harry huffily settled back and tried to convince himself he wasn't pouting. He crossed his arms in agitation, no longer caring if he looked like the teenaged doppelganger of Severus Snape.

Time seemed to crawl and Harry was still upset about not being allowed to ride with Ron and Hermione. It wasn't fair! Daphne Greengrass was the only one who had gotten hurt, yet she was still allowed to ride with her friends.

"Dad," Harry began, not even bothering to hide his ire, "I don't see why I couldn't just ride with my friends?"

"In case you have forgotten," his father said gravely as he looked down his crooked nose at Harry, "There was a Death Eater attack on the train." He then resumed watching the procession ahead, as if nothing else needed to be said on the subject.

"Really? A Death Eater attack?" Harry snorted in mock ignorance. "And here I thought Fred and George were demonstrating fireworks."

Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously at his son's insolence, but he continued to keep his eyes on his Snakes. "We'll discuss this later, Harry. Suffice it to say, I do not trust your safety to anyone else at this point in time."

Harry turned away from Severus. "Yes—well, sitting alone in this carriage with you, I stick out like a sore thumb," the boy said impudently.

"You're safer in a carriage with me than you would be in the company of dunderheaded teenagers." Harry's insolence was becoming tiresome, but Severus would have to address it later. He had no intention of throwing any more fodder out to the gossip hounds.

"I'm not talking about the Death Eaters," his son moped, refusing to look directly at Severus. "And my friends aren't dunderheads—I'm talking about that!" Harry pointed to the carriages ahead of them.

Severus ruefully admitted to himself that his Snakes did look as though their heads had been screwed on backwards. He was well aware that Harry's changed appearance was a point of curiosity, but he didn't want to highlight that fact to Harry. Severus was well aware that no teenager in their right mind would care to look like him, so he decided to detour that topic with a more humorous one.

He supposed there also had to be some sort of morbid fascination with Harry Potter and their stern Head of House riding in the same barouche without hexing each other. The fact that Harry and Severus were not having a congenial conversation also had to be apparent, even from a distance.

"Pay no attention to their inquisitiveness, Harry," Severus said, not even trying to keep his budding amusement from creeping into his eyes. "They are only curious as to whether or not I'm going to turn you into potions ingredients."

"Really?" Harry said in a voice more curious than irritated as his posture began to relax. "Why would they think that?"

"I think it would be obvious, Harry."

Severus leaned close to Harry's ear, but he kept his gaze on his House, letting the little berks know that he was well aware of their gawking.

He spoke in an imitation of his deadliest tone, "You, my dear son, have just had the bollocks to have an argument with Hogwarts' most infamous professor—in front of the entire school no less. At the very least, your sanity has come into question and some are probably even wondering if you have a death wish. Why, most wizards would soil themselves in fear of the consequences of such an offence. The curious masses are simply wondering if I'm going to exact some type of torturous punishment on you when we reach the castle, or if I'll just hex you right here on the spot."

Severus leaned back again, keeping as still as stone—as if nothing had just transpired between himself and his son. He always preferred to keep the brats guessing.

From the corner of his eye, Severus could see Harry begin to shake. For a moment, he thought his worst fears had been realised, and he berated himself for not having the foresight to have Albus create a Portkey straight to the hospital. But then, he looked at his son in wonder when he realised the boy was simply attempting to stifle his laugh.

But Harry leaned back in a posture that mimicked Severus' and said, "Let them wonder."

The mood between Harry and his father had lightened somewhat by the time darkness had fallen and they had reached the castle. Harry noticed as they passed the cast iron gates that something had changed. Something was definitely off. Looking up to the sky, he realised that the stars were no longer in focus. In fact, when he looked back, everything that was outside of the castle gates looked hazy.

Harry took off his glasses and began to clean them with the sleeve of his brand new robes. When he put them back on and noticed nothing had changed, he turned to his father and asked, "Dad, what happened to the stars?

"It is not your eyes, Harry. The Ministry erected new wards after what happened to Vincent Crabbe."

"New wards? I don't understand," Harry said as their carriage rolled to a stop.

"I don't see why not. The idea was essentially yours," his father said as he reached to open the carriage door.

"My idea?" Harry asked in confusion as he stepped down from the carriage. "I don't remember saying, anything about the school wards. I didn't know the school had wards to begin with."

"Of course the school has always had protective wards," Severus said. It looked to Harry as if his dad was sizing him up. All of the fuss and attention only served to embarrass Harry again, and he grudgingly wondered if this was how it was going to be from then on. "We can't just allow Death Eaters to stroll into Hogwarts and kidnap their own children, now can we?"

A smile of revelation came across Harry's face, making him forget his embarrassment for a moment. He did remember mentioning that, and his dad and the Headmaster had somehow gotten the Ministry to agree with Harry. "Does that mean Death Eaters can't come inside the castle?"

"That's exactly what it means," his dad said. Apparently the stern Potions Master had found fault with Harry's tie. "No person possessing a Dark Mark can pass the wards," he continued.

His father had managed to tie his tie so tight, Harry was beginning to wonder if he was tying a noose.

Harry squirmed under his all of his dad's fussing. "Dad, will you stop it. People are watching," he protested under his breath.

Unfortunately for Harry, it seemed as if his father's only concern was to make sure his son was well turned-out.

"Harry, your colour is still a little pale. I think before you join your friends in the Great Hall, a visit to Madam Pomfrey should be in order."

Harry was running so fast to catch up with his friends, he nearly skidded into the tall back of Ron. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Oi! Harry," said Ron in surprise. Harry leaned over with one hand on his knee and the other clutching his side, his lungs aching for lack of air. "Are you being chased by Dementors or are you trying to outrun your dad?"

Harry was still too winded to speak, but he shot a look at Ron that silently asked, 'How did you know?'.

"Harry—you didn't!" Hermione exclaimed in astonishment.

Harry didn't say anything, and his friends got the hint to keep quiet. He was still bent over but his eyes followed the other students as they began to find their way into the Great Hall. Too many stopped to gawp at Harry for his liking.

Once the crowd had thinned, Harry stood. He grabbed Ron and Hermione, each by an elbow, and hurriedly ushered them into the hall but stopped just inside the door. He anxiously looked over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. "Do me a favour and just act normal," he said under his breath.

Ron and Hermione both looked around, as if expecting an ambush. "Harry," Ron said nervously. "What's going on? I don't think it's a good idea to run from Professor Snape."

Hermione was equally on edge. "Harry, why did you run?"

Harry was aware that people were beginning to notice him and his friends hiding in the shadows, and it was making him feel like he was on display again. He was really getting tired of being watched. "I had no choice," he said quietly. "Dad wanted me to go see Madam Pomfrey. I told him that I was fine and to stop treating me like I was a Snidget. You know how he can get when somebody is being flippant with him."

"So we take it he was angry? What did he say?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't stay around for that part, actually," Harry guiltily admitted. "Dad looked like he was reaching for his wand, so rather than take a chance on being Levitated to the Hospital wing in front of the whole school…." He covered his mouth with his fist and coughed. He then quickly added as he hid his words, "I bolted."

Both Ron and Hermione gaped wide eyed at him as if he was a suicidal lunatic. "You bolted?" they chorused, almost too loudly.

"Not so loud," Harry admonished them through his teeth as he practically began to push his friends to the Gryffindor table. "People might hear."

Halfway down the table, Neville waved to get their attention. There was just enough room for the three friends between Neville and Dean Thomas. Ginny sat just on the other side of Dean…In fact, they were sitting rather close. He thought someone had mentioned that Ginny was dating Dean now, but that titbit of information had gone in one ear and out the other. Ron was glaring at the couple, and from the way he was giving a passable imitation of the Potions Master, Harry figured his best mate wasn't very happy with the arrangement.

Harry was too scared to look up at the head table. He was afraid that his father would home in on him and drag him from the Great Hall in front of everybody like a Firstie. But, as always, Ron was looking out for Harry's back. Just as Harry was beginning to take a seat beside Dean, over his other shoulder he could hear Ron say, "Uh oh."

"Harry, if I were you, I wouldn't look up at the head table," Ron said forebodingly. "Your dad's up there, and he looks like he could drop a basilisk."

Harry tried to shift himself so he could get just enough of a view of his father without looking obvious. He sighed when he noticed that as Ron sat down, his best mate scooted a couple of inches further from him.

Harry just managed to turn enough to get a look at his father, but his attempt at subterfuge was to no avail. His dad had seen him and Ron was right. If Harry could, he'd scoot farther away from himself too.

This was one time that Harry would rather have skived off the Welcoming Feast. It was a dismal affair. No sooner had Harry planted his arse on the bench than questions began to fly like bats from a cave.

No matter how much Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to explain that Snape had changed, Seamus Finnegan wouldn't stop with the insults. It was all Harry could do to keep from hexing his dorm mate when he asked, "Is it true what the papers are saying, Harry? Is the old git bastard really your Da?"

Harry couldn't help but smirk when Ginny told Seamus to "Stuff it."

Even Dean had taken Harry's side over that of his best mate. According to Dean, anyone who could cock a snook at You Know Who had his respect.

He felt genuine warmth knowing at least one of his classmates didn't hate him for being a Snape.

But no matter how much the others defended Harry, Seamus couldn't shut up. He even accused Harry of purposely changing his looks and railed on that it didn't matter if Snape was a spy, it didn't make him any less of an arse.

Only the fact that their Head of House had finally entered the Great Hall with the newest batch of petrified First Years kept Harry from giving Finnegan an impressive new set of donkey ears.

The only real high point to the feast was the announcement that Remus was returning as the DADA professor, resulting in subdued applause from most of the student body.

Harry noticed that Malfoy and Goyle looked particularly glum at the Slytherin table, and for once in his life Harry felt sorry for the prat and his gormless minion. They actually looked a little lost without Crabbe. Harry had never thought that Malfoy was capable of caring for anyone but himself, and Harry swallowed hard—thinking about how he would feel if he lost Ron or Hermione. Harry still had no idea how he was going to approach Malfoy about the potion, but he had to think of something.

The students had gone from sombre to outraged by the time the Headmaster finished his announcements. Of course Dumbledore had assured everyone that no student was seriously injured as a result of the attack on the train. The rumour had spread that the Death Eaters involved were actually parents of Hogwarts students and speculation was already circulating as to whose parents were involved.

As far as Harry was aware, other than the two students whose parents were at fault, he, Ron, and Hermione were the only students who actually knew the names of the Death Eaters implicated.

Almost everyone was noticeably relieved that the castle wards had been strengthened and that no one possessing a Dark Mark could infiltrate the castle. There weren't many who groused at this bit of news, but Harry noticed that most of those who were upset were in Slytherin.

The Great Hall was practically abuzz when Dumbledore announced that sacrifices had to be made for the safety of all. The buzz erupted into protests when it was announced that, until further notice, there would be no visits to Hogsmeade for the upper formers. The protest became an uproar when it was announced that Owl post was suspended for three days.

Many of the students had tried to speculate as to why Owl post had been suspended, but Harry was all too aware of the reasons. If word got out about the wards before Harry could warn the Death Eaters' children, parents like Narcissa Malfoy might withdraw their children from school, inadvertently putting their children in danger from their Marked spouses. That meant that Harry had only three days to make contact with Malfoy. He had to come up with something—but quick.

After the Headmaster's announcements, not too many had much of an appetite anymore. Even Ron seemed a bit put off his bangers and mash. He was only eating one sausage at a time instead of two.

Pudding was just being served. Harry decided he might have room for a half slice of treacle tart, when he notice the entire room had gone silent, and all movement from his House mates ceased.

A cold chill ran down Harry's spine, as if a rabbit just ran across his grave. Ron was frozen with his fork hanging in mid-air.

Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he wondered if the entire Great Hall had just been hexed with a Petrificus Totalus, when he saw a familiar shadow fall across the top of the table.

Harry knew who it was. He drew in a deep breath and held it in, as if it were his last. He slowly turned and looked up at his very grim and very unamused father.

Harry tried to smile innocently, but his smiled faltered, for his Gryffindor courage had just left him in his hour of deepest need. He managed to find enough air in his body to squeak, "D…Dad?"

"I believe you have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey." His father's words were barely above a whisper, but the stone walls seemed to quake, all the same.

Harry's survival instinct kicked in and rivalled that of any Slytherin. Although his fear had just come to pass, he knew better than to argue. Harry wiped his mouth with his serviette, more in an attempt to wipe off the sweat forming on his upper lip than any morsels of food. He took one last swallow of pumpkin juice to moisten his parched throat for the express purpose of muttering, "Y…yes, Sir."

Harry looked back to his friends before he was practically frog-marched out of the Great Hall by Severus. Hermione and Ginny gave him sympathetic looks that tried to tell him that it would be alright. The look on Ron's faced promised Harry that his best mate would attend his funeral.

Before the massive oak doors of the Great Hall slammed closed behind Harry, sounding his death knell, he could hear Seamus Finnegan break the eerie silence. "Poor blighter—his spleen's going to be part of this week's potions project, for sure."

Severus leaned against Madam Pomfrey's office door. He was waiting patiently for the results of Harry's exam. He had made certain that the matron subjected Harry to a very thorough physical exam. The boy would think twice before defying Severus again.

"You may get dressed now, Mr Snape," said Poppy as she emerged from the business side of the privacy screen. She approached Severus and reported, "Not a scratch on him—though I don't blame you for wanting to take such precautions. One never knows what non-verbal curses may have been thrown at the boy."

"Thank you, Poppy," Severus said as he gave a slight nod of appreciation to his colleague.

Harry stepped out from behind the privacy screen and tucked in his shirttail. The boy was still flushing from embarrassment. "Was all that humiliation really necessary?"

Severus did not answer his son straight away.

"I had originally planned for Madam Pomfrey to give you a cursory look over. However, since you saw fit to run away, I thought perhaps…"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed in offence. "You mean to tell me that I had to go starkers in front of Madam Pomfrey because you were punishing me?"

Severus scoffed. "I believe your penchant for dramatics sometimes rivals that of the Headmaster, Harry. You were hardly 'starkers,' as you so eloquently put it. You kept your pants on." Then he turned around and menacingly leaned towards his son's face. "And the next time you think to defy me, you—will—think—twice."

Harry swallowed hard and said, "Yes, Sir." Harry thought that he would rather have a belt than be subjected to that type of mortification again. But Harry knew that for all of his father's sternness, he was not the sort to exact corporal punishment on a teenager. No—his father was much more imaginative than that.

Severus turned and continued to tread down the corridor. He spoke as he kept walking, knowing that Harry was right behind him. "Why did you feel it necessary to run off the way you did?"

Harry was a little embarrassed to say why. His reason seemed pretty lame now. "Well… I saw you go for your wand and thought that you might hex me into a Body Bind and Levitate me into the infirmary. You were pretty miffed."

Harry could hear his father give a deep chuckle, and Severus said, "No Harry, I was simply removing your trunk from the carriage, although I'll be sure to keep that in mind for next time."

Harry made a mental note to practice dodging hexes. "Where are we going?" Harry noticed that they were not going in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

"I need to make an introduction," was his father's enigmatic explanation.

To Harry's horror, he recognized that they were heading for the Slytherin dungeons. "Wait…" Harry said as he stopped in his tracks. Severus stopped too. He was looking very impatient. "You're introducing me to the Slytherins? Why couldn't have this been done in the Great Hall?" Harry knew that he was in no danger. But he couldn't help but feel as if he were about to sick up.

"The entire Wizarding world knows who you are by now, Harry. I am simply going to enlighten my Snakes as to my…expectations."

Harry felt as if he had a Quaffle stuck in his throat. Sure, this time he wasn't going to be on the business end of one of his father's harangues, but Harry was quite sure he was going to be blamed for their discomfort. True—Harry had no qualms about being Snape's son, but being known as the teacher's kid could stir up a new Pixie's nest of trouble

Severus and Harry continued their way down the corridor with the eyes of portraits following them until they reached a small painting of a dark and foreboding forest. A man, dressed suspiciously like the headmaster, stepped out from a large hole in a rather dark and gnarled old oak.

"Password," it said in a thin, papery voice.

"Nequam nota," Severus intoned. The little man nodded, and then returned to his hole in the tree.

Harry wondered what the whole exchange was about, but didn't have to wonder long. A door, elaborately carved with snakes, magically appeared from the wall. The door swung open of its own accord, and Severus stepped aside, allowing Harry to enter first.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked curiously.

"Remind me that I need to teach you Latin," Severus said as the door silently closed behind him.

"I'll do that," Harry said dubiously.

Well, that was awkward.

Only fifteen minutes after entering the Slytherin common room, Harry and his father stepped out the heavy wooden door.

One did not have to be Albus Dumbledore to figure out who the children of Death Eaters were…at least those who knew they were children of Death Eaters. After Severus had summand his entire House to the Common Room, a small contingent of what had once been the Slytherin elite were huddled in a dark corner. Not surprisingly, that included Draco Malfoy, Greg Goyle and Pansy Parkinson. But there were a few that Harry hadn't recognised, and he had to admit it had been a bit unexpected to find Teddy Nott amongst them, standing off to the side. Harry had always thought that Nott was a quiet and unassuming bloke who didn't care much for cliques or boarding school politics.

Even those who didn't seem to have Death Eater affiliations eyed Harry with guarded suspicion. That didn't faze Harry too much, though. After all, he was a Gryffindor.

When Severus announced that Harry was, indeed, his son, the collective gasps should have sucked the oxygen right out of the dungeon. When his father announced that Harry was to be afforded the same respect as any other Slytherin, he was astonished that the upper years hadn't keeled over and died on the spot.

Harry didn't know if his dad's warnings would have too great an effect on how he would be treated by the Snakes now, but Harry was sure they would either have second thoughts about any sneak attacks on him and his friends, or they were going to have find ways to out-sneak their Head.

Yeah…as if.

Harry looked back and watched in wonder as the secret door to the Slytherin common room vanished away, leaving nothing but a small painting on a stone wall. Once Harry was sure they were far enough away from the dungeon common room to ensure that the walls did not have ears, he turned to his father and said, "I think if you want to get rid of Slytherin's dark reputation, you ought to start by getting rid of those snake skulls on the mantel." Harry shivered, remembering the four giant snake skulls. Their eye sockets may have been empty, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he had been watched.

Severus gave him a glance with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Get rid of John, Paul, George, and Ringo? Why, they've been a Slytherin institution since before I came to Hogwarts. They're rather considered to be good luck if you rub them before an exam."

Harry swallowed, not even bothering to ask why four giant snake heads were named after a Muggle band from the Sixties or even if his dad was just taking the mickey out of him. Rub their heads? He'd rather just take his chances. But still, he guessed that with four ridiculous names like that, they didn't seem quite so creepy.

When they reached the corridor that led to Severus' private chambers, Harry stopped. It was getting late and he wanted to get back to the common room before all the food the twins managed to pilfer from the kitchens was gone. The post-feast celebration supplied by Fred and George's after-curfew raid was almost as lavish as the Welcoming Feast itself. And now that the dreaded physical and his punishment for running off were simultaneously out of the way, Harry found that his appetite had returned with gusto.

It was a case of being hungry and sleeping, but as it was, he wasn't going to get any sleep with the pit in his stomach.

"Dad…can I go to my own common room tonight? Classes start pretty early and I need to make sure I have everything in order for the morning."

His dad eyed him suspiciously. "I am fully aware of that, Harry, considering I must be up in time to teach them." He seemed to consider Harry's request. For a moment Harry was afraid his dad would say 'no', but after what seemed like forever, he finally sighed and said, "I would prefer that you stay in our chambers tonight…but it may be prudent for you to prove to your Housemates that I have not used any of your appendages in my potions, yet."

Harry gulped, "Yet?"

Harry stabbed at his breakfast, wondering how he was going to get Malfoy, or any other of the Death Eater children, alone long enough to tell them what was going on, much less get someone to actually believe him.

"Mr Potter…Mr Potter… MR SNAPE!"

Harry snapped out of his ruminations to look up at the pinched face of his Head of House. "Sorry, Professor McGonagall," he said contritely.

"That's quite alright, Mr Po…Snape. Yesterday was particularly taxing on us all," McGonagall said, handing Harry his timetable. "But please, do try to become a little more coherent before your first class starts." Harry refrained from rolling his eyes when she gave him a condescending pat on the shoulder, and then continued to pass out timetables to the rest of the Gryffindors.

Ron mournfully looked over his timetable and then stuffed his mouth with a forkful of scrambled eggs. "I think we may have trouble staying awake in our first class, Harry," he said after nearly swallowing his food whole.

Harry looked at his timetable and groaned, "History of Magic first thing in the morning—that's cruel and unusual punishment."

"Not so cruel or unusual should you be caught slacking off in any classes this year, Harry," Hermione reminded him. "You've got to remember, you have a parent to answer to now—and a Hogwarts professor, no less."

The previous day's mortification notwithstanding, five years of experience had made Harry acutely aware that if there was anybody who knew how to dole out a cruel and unusual punishment, it was Severus Snape.

And Hermione was right. In his past four years at Hogwarts, Harry hadn't really been accountable to anyone. The Dursleys never gave a flip about Harry's marks or behaviour at school, as long as he didn't outperform Dudley. Harry was sure that Aunt Petunia was sent an owl every time Harry had been to the hospital, but she never cared enough to ask if Harry was okay.

For all intents and purposes, Harry had been an emancipated minor in the wizarding world. The idea of having to really answer to an adult while he was at school was one he was quickly going to have to get used to. Not to mention his dad was a professor, ranked right up there with McGonagall for being one of the strictest in living memory.

Something told Harry that, for all of his dad's talk about the advantages of being the Potions Master's son, his dad was not about to put up with poor marks and rule breaking.

"My grades haven't really been all that bad," said Harry, trying to convince himself. "The only classes I've ever had less than an Acceptable in are History and Divination, and those don't count…do they?"

"Of course not."

"Of course they do," Ron and Hermione chimed at once. Hermione glared at Ron and knuckle punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What the bloody hell was that for," Ron cried as he rubbed his sore arm. Harry thought the punch looked hard enough for Hermione to have left a bruise.

"If you want to get Harry in trouble with Professor Snape you just keep giving him advice, Ronald," Hermione ranted. "Of course the professor is going to care about all of Harry's marks."

Harry knew Hermione was right, but he was more concerned about making contact with Draco Malfoy than worrying about his History of Magic scores. He had no intention of taking a History NEWT, anyway.

"Well just make sure you're plenty awake for your dad, mate," Ron said. "We've got Double Potions right after Binns."

Harry sighed. He wasn't sure how his first Potions class as the professor's son was going to turn out. Certainly, Harry was Professor Snape's son, but Harry cringed at the thought that although his dad had said that he would not call him out in front of the rest of the class, he might actually expect more out of Harry.

Would his classmates think that Harry would now benefit from nepotism? His dad had no compunction whatsoever when it came to playing favourites, but being the object of favouritism always made Harry feel uncomfortable, no matter who it was from. Harry already had enough problems without his father alienating his classmates on his behalf.

Harry looked at his timetable. At least he had one break. They had Potions with the Slytherins. That might give him a chance to contact Malfoy either before or after class.

A little shiver went up Harry's spine. His world had turned completely upside down since spring. Was he actually just relieved that he had Potions with the Slytherins?

He looked over at the Slytherin table and watched as his father passed out timetables to his students. Harry did not like the look that some of the older Slytherin students were giving his dad. Their glowers seemed have no effect on their Head of House, though. Severus would just flash his students a look that reminded them that they were mere amateurs.

"Harry, what's the matter?" Hermione asked.

"Oh…It's nothing," Harry stumbled over his words, having been caught off by Hermione's question. "I was just thinking that I might get my chance to contact Malfoy."

"I think she means that you look a little peaky, Harry. But I can understand how the thought of talking to Malfoy would make you want to sick up," Ron said.

Harry had managed to stay awake through his History of Magic lesson. That did not mean, however, that he actually comprehended anything. He sighed as he shoved his books into his rucksack.

Harry thought that during the day's lecture, he might have heard something about dragon massacres in the thirteenth century. But he couldn't remember if it was about people massacring dragons or dragons massacring people. The subject was interesting enough, but Professor Binns' droning voice could put a raging dragon to sleep. Harry figured he would just have to copy Hermione's notes later.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron. "We don't want to be late for Potions."

Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out into the corridor with his best friends beside him.

"Have you figured out how to contact Malfoy yet, Harry?" Hermione asked in a near whisper. The very topic of their conversation was walking alone only a few feet ahead of them. Draco Malfoy was on his way to Potions, too.

"Yeah," Harry answered quietly, "I figure that since he's a Prefect this year, I'd pass him a note in class and ask him to meet me at the Astronomy Tower around ten-thirty. I could use my invis…HEY!"

Just at that moment Gregory Goyle had shoved passed Harry, most likely in an effort to catch up with Draco. Harry's rucksack had flown off his shoulder. Books and parchments scattered across the corridor. Even his quills had managed to fly out of their protective case and were strewn across the stone floor.

Harry was grateful that he had already turned in his preserved plants and potions essays to his father. His daisy chain would have been ruined in the carnage.

Goyle stopped and waved his wand and Summoned Harry's effects back into his rucksack.

"Sorry about that, Potter. I wasn't watching where I was going."

Harry stood in shock as Goyle simply turned and rushed to catch up with Malfoy.

Malfoy must have heard the commotion because he had stopped and watched the exchange between Harry and his friend. He grabbed his Goyle by the forearm. "Watch where you're going, you oaf," Draco snarled at Goyle as his eyes bored into Harry. "You don't want to soil Prince Harry's personage, do you?" He then yanked at Goyle and dragged him out of the corridor and into the classroom.

Harry, Ron and Hermione continued to stare in amazement, as other students began to pass and stare back at them. Harry had been so stunned, he forgot to thank Goyle for picking up his books.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" Hermione asked, still bemused over what had just transpired.

"Since when did that great lump start apologizing for acting like an arse?" Ron asked.

Harry flung his repaired bag over his shoulder and said, "Probably since Dad threatened the Slytherins should they pull any of their usual stunts."

Ron looked at his friend disbelievingly and Hermione smiled as they continued on their way.

Harry and Ron took their usual seats next to each other while Hermione sat next to Neville Longbottom. Most of the students kept glancing at Harry as they talked amongst themselves in hushed whispers—that is, with the exception of Malfoy and Goyle. Goyle just grinned stupidly at Harry whilst Malfoy simply avoided looking at Harry all together.

Harry hoped his classmates weren't going to give him a hard time as they did in his second year when everybody thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. After all, being the Heir of Snape was almost as much of an offence in the eyes of some.

The room went deadly quiet as the classroom door swung open hard and smacked against the stone wall. Professor Snape swept into the class in his customary manner. Once he reached the front of the classroom, he turned sharply and faced his students. His dark eyes scanned every student there. It was enough to make Harry squirm, as it reminded him too much of the old Professor Snape

But still—now that he thought about it, Harry couldn't help but appreciate his father's ease of movement for the first time. He hoped that someday he would inherit his father's grace and commanding presence. The way his dad's robes billowed when he entered a room was entirely too cool.

"As I am sure any of you with half a brain are aware…" Snape began, "you will be sitting your OWLs this spring. Although many of you are too moronic to tell the difference between a toad and a toadstool, I expect every person in this room to scrape by with no less than an Acceptable. He then bored his gaze into Neville's forehead. Neville shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Hermione patted their classmate reassuringly on the arm.

"Those of you, who intend to attempt your NEWT should be aware that I only accept 'Outstanding' students into this level." This time Severus' eyes were fixed on Harry and Harry nearly choked on a too-biiiiiig gulp of air.

"So whether or not you plan upon attempting a NEWT, you would be ill advised to slack off this year. I assure you—you do not wish to suffer the consequences of my displeasure should you embarrass me with your failure." Severus' tone was hushed, but he couldn't have commanded more attention with a Sonorus charm. The air in the room practically vibrated with the collective shudders that came from the students.

"Now," Severus snapped, and every student in the room jumped at the sudden change in volume. "The homework I set for you this summer was intended to demonstrate the type of logic and independent thought that will be required of you to pass your OWLs and move onto the next level. Pass your essays to the end of your rows. When I call you, you will come up and present your ingredients so I can inspect them. If they have not been properly preserved, you may not use them. In such case, you may use ingredients from the school stores, but you will be deducted five points from your score for any ingredient replaced."

Harry gave a sigh of relief at this. If his plants had not been preserved properly, his dad would have let him know before now.

The sound of parchment shuffling filled the room as essays were being passed up the rows. Severus quickly snatched them as they were offered. Dean and Seamus were sitting in Harry's row. Seamus was at the end ready to hand in everybody's work.

"Harry," Dean whispered, "where's your homework?"

"I've already turned it in," Harry tried to say under his breath.

"Silence," Severus warned. "You should know better, Harry."

Harry's face turned red from embarrassment, partly from being called out and partly from Severus being so familiar in class. He simply muttered, "Sorry, Sir."

At least his father hadn't taken points or given him detention as he would have in the past. But Severus' warning and use of Harry's given name had had the desired effect. The entire class had been stunned into silence.

After everyone had turned in their preserved ingredients, the day's lesson had got underway. Harry was practically giddy when he found out they would be brewing a Draught of Peace. Hellebore was one of his mundane plants. He had worked very hard over the summer at practicing this particular potion, and for the first time since that fateful day he stepped into the Potions dungeon, Harry was very much looking forward to his potions lesson. He could almost produce a Draught of Peace with his eyes closed now. Practice, and not having Severus Snape harangue him from over his shoulder, had made all the difference.

Before Harry knew it, he had finished his brewing and time was being called.. Although Ron had been his lab partner, his best friend had done little more than chop and measure ingredients. Harry didn't mind, though, the dynamic had worked out well; time was being called for class to end. It was all Harry and Ron could do to keep from celebrating when Harry's dad had nodded his approval at their finished project.

Before being dismissed, Severus announced that instead of completing three independent projects that term, they would only be required to choose one, but that project would be their final exam, so they had better choose wisely. Harry wondered if he could get away with the Draught of Peace again. He would make certain to ask his dad later. As homework, they would be required to write on the potion they chose, based upon one or more of the plants that they turned in.

Ron crammed his books into his bag while Hermione neatly packed hers away. Harry groaned when he got a good look at the state of his rucksack. Goyle may have collected his things, but he didn't use much care in putting them back together. But honestly, it was more than Harry could have expected from the half-witted Slytherin.

Harry was just getting ready to leave when he noticed his father wave him over.

"We'll just wait for you just outside the door, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry nodded to his friends, and approached his father's desk. Harry wondered what Severus wanted.

"I want you stop by our quarters before curfew tonight."

"Why? Is something wrong?" Harry asked. "I thought my punishment was over with."

"No," his dad said, "I just want to go over your homework."

"Go over my homework! It's only the first day back. What could I give you that you could possibly look over?"

"You only have two days before your Potions homework is due, Harry. I should expect that you would at least have a rough draft prepared tonight."

Actually, Harry had no intention of writing a rough draft. He had fully intended to write his essay the night before it was due, just as he had done every other time.

"Why should I have to do that?" Harry asked crossly. "Nobody else has to submit their homework for their parent's approval."

Severus just gave Harry 'The Look'. Harry remembered his father's rather imaginative punishment from the night before and decided to back off that argument. "You know this could be considered cheating," Harry said.

"A parent looking over their child's homework hardly constitutes cheating, Harry," Severus told him. "Especially since said parent is the one that sets the rules of what is and what is not considered cheating. After all, I will not be giving you answers, only pointing out where your logic may be lacking."

Harry sighed and turned in defeat. He had to admit though— it felt good to have someone call him his 'child'. Harry turned to join his friends when he suddenly remembered about Malfoy.

"Oh, Dad." Severus looked up from where he was arranging his papers. "I almost forgot. I was planning on meeting Malfoy toni…."

Harry cursed out loud because he forgot to pass a note to Malfoy. "Shite!"

"One point from Gryffindor for language, Harry."

"I'm sorry," Harry said in exasperation. "I was going to pass Malfoy a note telling him to meet me atop the Astronomy Tower tonight."

"You were going to pass a note in my classroom?"

Harry wasn't sure if Severus' tone was accusatory or teasing. Either way, felt the need to defend his reasons. "I was only going to tell Malfoy to meet me in the Astronomy Tower."

"Harry, you've been exposed to the wizarding world for over four years. Surely you realise Hogwarts has an Owlery, by now," his father said in exasperation. "There are any number of nondescript owls you can use, and if you hurry, you should have time to send one and still have time for lunch."

Harry smiled at the "Yeah! Great idea. You're brilliant, Dad."

"So I've been told," his dad said with a slight mischievous tone.

Harry was about to leave with his friends when he looked back at his father once again.

"What is it this time, Harry?" This time his father really did sound annoyed.

"Only one point, Dad?"

"Don't worry," his father assured him. "I'll more than make it up with your housemates," he smirked.

On their way to the Great Hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione debated on whether Harry should Owl Malfoy before or after lunch.

Ron of course, wanted to eat first, but Hermione had pointed out that they might not have time to make it up and back from the Owlery should they wait too long. So they compromised. They would drop by the Great Hall, build themselves a sandwich and eat on their way down to the Owlery.

Harry told his friends that he could go alone, but they would hear nothing of it. "Can you imagine the points your dad would take if we were to let you wander the castle alone?" Hermione said.

"I'm going to meet Malfoy alone tonight," Harry pointed out.

"Like hell you are," Ron said adamantly. "I'll stay under your invisibility cloak if you want, but you're going nowhere alone, mate—especially with Malfoy."

Harry smiled to himself inwardly, wondering how he was ever deserving of such loyal friends, then resigned himself to the fact that they weren't letting him out of their sight for a moment. As annoying as it was—it also felt really good.

Once they arrived at the Gryffindor table, the trio attacked the meat and cheese tray and built their sandwiches. Before they left for the Owlery, Harry saw Severus enter the Great Hall through the staff entrance and take his place at the head table.

Anxious to complete their task, even Hermione began to eat her sandwich as they approached the castle doors. Just as they began to descend the stairs to the castle grounds, Harry realised that he had not even bothered to write his note to Malfoy. He sat down on the front steps, garnering quizzical looks from Ron and Hermione.

"I haven't written the letter yet," Harry explained as he passed off his half-eaten ham and Swiss to Ron and asked, "Hold this for a second, would you?"

Ron gave the sandwich a quizzical look. Harry laughed inwardly and said, "And don't eat it."

"I'm not going to eat your bloody sandwich, Harry," Ron answered in mock disgust.

Harry commandeered Hermione's help as well. "Hold this would you?" he asked as he handed her his rucksack. Harry pulled out the first quill he could get his hands on, a blank piece of parchment, and a book to write on.

Harry set the book across his knees and began to write his message, hoping by some miracle that Malfoy would actually show up. He hadn't finished his second sentence when the quill's nib broke off.

"Damn it," Harry exclaimed irritably.

"It must be dull," Hermione said. "Let me get my pen knife and sharpen it for you."

"No, that's alright," Harry said. "I've got others in the bottom of my bag."

Harry reached into his bag, and rummaged for his quill case. He groaned when his fingers brushed across the soft feathers lying loose at the bottom. Harry had all but had forgotten about his run in with Goyle earlier. "I hope they're not broken," Harry said. He did not elaborate, but Ron and Hermione seemed to know what he was referring to.

Harry grew even more irritable when he realised that his quills were pinned under the heavy books. He felt the sharp nib of the first quill he managed to wrap his fingers around and pulled hard. Harry gasped when he felt a sharp stab in the palm of his hand.

"Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed as he grabbed his hand and applied pressure to his wound in a vain attempt to stop the pain and bleeding.

But then something else was wrong—terribly wrong. Harry began to feel an odd sensation…as if a thousand billywigs were crawling under his skin—and he was thirsty. He had a strong taste of metal and his mouth salivated in a futile effort to be rid of it. He looked up at Ron and Hermione, but his two friends seemed to swim in and out of his vision.

"Harry…Harry are you alright, mate?" Ron asked in a distant, ethereal voice.

Harry could hardly make out Hermione's words. "…doesn't look go…Ron…run…hel…."

Harry wanted to agree, but he couldn't. He frantically grasped at his chest. It felt too tight and he couldn't find enough air to speak. He lost sensation in his legs, and although he could not feel it, Harry sensed that he was collapsing. But someone caught his dead weight, the momentum of which sent them both to the ground.

He was spared panic, for Hermione was in a state enough for the both of them. His last vision was of Hermione's face close to his and her urgent voice begging him, "Harry! Stay with me!"

Harry tried to do as Hermione asked—he really did, but his effort was for naught as he slowly slipped into oblivion.

Severus had seen the backs of Harry and his friends leave the Great Hall just as he arrived through the staff entrance. He scarcely caught a glimpse of Mr Weasley taking an overly large bite out of a sandwich, so at least Severus was relatively certain that Harry had managed to grab one too as he ran about trying to find a way to contact Draco.

Nothing seemed amiss and Severus relaxed knowing that his son had at least managed to grab a bite to eat. Severus felt no qualms about tucking into his own lunch. But, it was only a little more than five minutes later when Severus realised that it was too much to hope that Harry's first day back would be normal.

Something had streaked past the open doors of the Great Hall. It took Severus a couple of seconds before he realised that the streak was, in fact, Mr Weasley. The boy had been running through the corridors so fast, he had nearly skidded by the massive doors of the Great Hall. In the past, Severus would have verbally slashed the Weasley whelp for running inside the castle, but from the panicked and frightfully pale look on the red-head's freckled face, alarm bells went off inside Severus' head. By the time Mr Weasley had run down half of the length of the hall amid the curious stares of the students, Severus could tell that the boy was actually in tears.

Severus arose from his seat so quickly he almost upended the entire staff table. Before he had even realised that he had moved, Severus was standing between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, grabbing the youngest Weasley boy by the shoulders and fighting his ever-growing parental instinct to shake any news about his son out of Mr Weasley.

"Where is he, Mr Weasley," Severus asked in a voice that teetered on the edge of panic.

"Entrance," the boy managed to gasp. Mr Weasley obviously wasn't accustomed to physical exertion as he was leaning over and trying to support himself with his hands on his knees.

Without a second thought, Severus bolted out of the Great Hall and towards the massive entry of Hogwarts Castle. It scarcely registered with him that Albus and Minerva were right on his heels.

When Severus reached the front steps, he was greeted by every parent's nightmare. It seemed he had been standing there in shock for an eternity, but Severus had surveyed the scene in the span of a heartbeat. Harry was laid out on the ground and Ms Granger was straddled over him, applying chest compressions to Severus' son with all the strength she had in her.

"Don't leave me, Harry. Your dad's almost here," she gasped. The tears she had been trying to hold back in an effort to remain calm were welling up in her eyes and threatening to spill over.

"He's almost here, he's almost here," Ms Granger sobbed as she continued her compressions.

"Get out of my way!" Severus yelled as he began to shove the stunned bystanding students from his path.

Severus nearly collapsed to his knees next to his unconscious son. Albus was already kneeling next to Harry with his aged fingers against the boy's carotid artery. Albus nodded to Minerva and the deputy headmistress gently pulled Ms Granger away from Harry as Albus cast a charm that Severus was too distraught to recognise.

"You did a fine job, Ms Granger," Minerva said quietly to the trembling girl. "He's alive because of you."

Severus was too concerned with his own son to notice or even care that Ms Granger had collapsed into her Head of House's arms in tearful fright. He couldn't understand what was happening. It had been less than a half hour since he had seen his son. Harry had been perfectly fine. Was he in the middle of some sort of cruel nightmare?

But it was no nightmare. What lay before Severus was all too real. Harry was shockingly pale. In fact, he was practically grey. It was then that Severus noticed the nearly dried vomit crusted on the side of Harry's face and pooled just beside his head.

Then the horrific happened and Severus nearly froze in panic. Harry's body began heave in a series of convulsive fits as the headmaster began casting more spells and charms in quick succession.

As quickly as they started, the violent convulsions faded to tremors and a more natural colour came back into Harry's face, though his lips were still disquietingly tinged blue.

"He's breathing for now," Albus said in an urgent, business-like tone that snapped Severus to attention, "but we need to get him to the hospital quickly before the respiratory charms fade."

Severus scooped his son into his arms with little effort. He was startled at how light Harry was, despite the boy's dead weight. He could feel the unnatural quiver of his son's muscles that threatened to break out in a new wave of convulsions at any time.

The crowd that had amassed around them parted without a word from Severus. Unbeknownst to Severus, they could all feel the crackling waves of magic that he barely held in check as he passed by and no one cared to be in the Potions Master's way if that pent up magic were to suddenly find release.

The doors to the hospital were open and Poppy and two of her interns were already awaiting Severus' arrival.

"Put him here, Severus," Poppy said as she led Severus to the nearest bed. "I know it's not the most private, but we'll worry about that once we stabilise him."

Severus gently laid Harry on the small bed. His son did look small…small and helpless. Harry's eyelids were slightly parted and it was all Severus could do not to become undone when he noticed Harry's beautiful green irises were rolled back. There was nothing but a deathly milky-white behind those lids. Severus took a step back, realising that there was nothing he could do…no potion he could offer, because as yet, no one knew what had happened.

One of Poppy's interns, a young, dark wizard, with hair so deep a red it was almost black, was taking Harry's vitals. "Madam, he's barely registering a pulse and his breathing is shallow. There looks to be some bruising around his lungs."

Poppy nodded gravely. "While Severus was in on his way up, the headmaster sent a message that Mr Potter may have had a seizure of some sort."

Severus took another step back, but he couldn't sit down. If he sat down, he couldn't see Harry's face. He wanted to be the first thing Harry saw if his son managed to open his eyes again. Besides, Severus felt his magic course through him like ungrounded electricity. If he sat down at this moment, he knew he would explode. Severus had had very few good things to count in his life since he lost Lily. In fact, as far as Severus was concerned, his part in creating Harry was the only truly good thing he had ever done with his life. Severus had been alone for so long, he had forgotten what it was like to feel the need for companionship or love. Since discovering Harry was his son, Severus knew what it was like to be needed…and to need.

Severus needed his son. He needed his son like the air he breathed, and for the love of all that he held holy, he did not know if he could survive losing Harry. Now that he had come to know what it was like to love and to be loved again, Severus knew he could no longer live without it. Were the gods playing some sort of sick game with Severus? Was Severus paying the price for his past sins?

For the first time since the night Lily and Harry had gone into hiding with James, Severus prayed. He said a second prayer in hope that this time, someone benevolent would hear.

Poppy had just finished casting charms that surrounded Harry in a blue, life-supporting mist. It was then that Severus nearly fell into a nearby chair, the full gravity of the situation slamming him in the chest. Harry's heart and lungs were incapable of supporting life on their own.

"Albus is bringing back a specialist."

Severus looked up. He had been resting his head in his hands and hiding his face behind a curtain of hair. It was a defence mechanism that he still held onto from childhood.

Minerva and Mr Weasley were escorting Ms Granger into the hospital wing. The girl was leaning heavily on her friend and seemed a bit pale, herself, but he paid little attention to Ms Granger's plight.

"From what Mr Weasley and Ms Granger have described of the events, the headmaster suspects that Mr Snape has been envenomated."

"What?" Severus slowly arose from his chair, unconsciously grasping the back for support. "Do you mean to tell me that someone inside these castle walls intentionally sought to kill Harry?" he asked in his deadliest tone.

"We don't know that for certain, Severus," Minerva said in her heavy brogue. "We'll know more when Albus returns with the specialist. Poppy, might I have the assistance of one of your interns? Ms Granger has fallen ill as well."

Poppy was passing her wand over Harry's body. She nudged her head in the direction of Ms Granger. "Ms Fuller, would you please be so kind as to assist Professor McGonagall."

The blonde intern recognised the order in the request and hurried over to help Ms Granger into bed. Harry's friend obviously wasn't in mortal peril, but she had most certainly fallen suddenly ill. The entire situation was beginning to reek of foul play.

"Is there anything I can do, Poppy," Severus said, desperately wanting to make himself useful to his son, and needing a distraction before he inadvertently released his magic and accidentally killed someone. "Is there a potion you require… anything?"

Poppy was sitting on the edge of Harry's bed from where she had been running diagnostics and reinforcing the life-supporting charms. She leaned back, looking thoroughly exhausted. She shook her head slightly. "No, not until the specialist gets here. We can't know what to give him until we've identified the toxin. We could kill him otherwise. I won't lie to you, Severus. He needs to get here soon. These spells won't hold long if we don't find out what did this to Harry."

From that moment on, Severus would fervently believe in the power of Wish Magic. No sooner had he begged any god that cared to listen for the arrival of the specialist, the hospital Floo roared to life, and Albus stepped out with a short, dark man practically leaning on a staff. The stranger's face was scarred and he wore a white agbada.

Severus and Poppy stepped forward to greet Albus and his mysterious friend. "Madam Pomfrey, Severus—I would like you to meet an old friend of mine, Mzilikazi. He is an Isangoma, and without question, one of the world's foremost authorities on exotic toxins and venoms. Muggles would refer to him as a to..."

"Albus, we don't need a science lesson," Severus snapped at the headmaster. He then turned to the Witch Doctor and asked in a slightly more cordial manner, "Isangoma, whatever it takes, please… help my son."

The old wizard nodded his head to Severus and said in a deep, exotically accented tone, "My knowledge and power is formidable, and I will do all that I can to save your child, Ubaba."

There was something about the small wizard whose very presence seemed to fill the room—much like Albus Dumbledore when one met him for the first time. And as with Dumbledore, Severus trusted the judgment of this new wizard without really understanding why. He just felt it as far down as his magical core: Harry's future was in the hands of this wizard.

Mzilikazi ignored the presence of anyone else in the room and seemed to glide over to Harry's bedside. Quite suddenly, the quiet in the hospital was broken by a series of rhythmically chanted incantations. The old wizard did not use a wand, but rather seemed to channel his magic through his staff.

From his nearby chair, Severus could feel his heart beat in time with the Isangima's magic as he watched and waited. The blue mist that surrounded Harry intensified to a deep indigo. Mzilikazi picked up Harry's hand and examined a small cut in the palm that Severus hadn't noticed before. The Isangoma passed the head of his staff over Harry's injured hand. The hand glowed, but its colour was obscured through the blue mist.

By Severus' reckoning, it could have been ten minutes or it could have been ten hours when Mzilikazi arose from Harry's side. It was only when Severus arose to meet the wizard that he realised there were more people in the hospital wing than he was initially aware of.

Mr Weasley was still there, holding the hand of the sleeping Ms Granger as his attention was firmly fixed on Harry. Poppy was tucking the girl in for what appeared to be a long rest. Minerva was nowhere to be seen, but Severus did notice that Albus and the other Heads of House were sitting close by, if not next to him. They knew Severus well enough to know when Severus needed to be alone, but remained close at hand in case they were needed.

Mzilikazi's face was unreadable as he approached Severus and Albus. Poppy rushed over so she could be privy to her patient's prognoses. The old wizard did not even await the concerned father's inevitable questioning, but instead went straight to relaying his findings.

"This was a definite and deliberate envenomation."

Severus' own heartbeat became deafening at this news. He took a deep hard breath before he turned to Albus. "This could only mean a staff member or a student. No Death Eater could have done this."

Albus nodded as Mzilikazi answered, "Those mysteries are for Albus to find. Our job, Ubaba, is to make your son well again. I can tell you that the envenomation was deliberate because the venom entered through the wound on your son's hand, and though it was snake venom, it was not a snake bite. Although I have identified the species, I could better assure the boy's full recovery if I had the snake that provided the venom."

"Professors!"

Severus and the other adults turned to see Mr Weasley rushing over to them.

Albus asked, "Yes, Mr Weasley, do you know something we should?"

The tall boy stood next to them, nodding his head frantically. "Yes, sir. Harry was stabbed in his hand by one of his quills right before this happened. It fell back into his rucksack."

Severus looked to Albus and turned his head sharply to where Harry's rucksack sat on the floor next to his bed.

Severus rushed over and snatched the rucksack off the floor. Despite the hefty books inside, the bag was remarkably light from a Featherweight Charm Harry had cast on it after Severus had bought it. Severus levitated the books and stacked them on a nearby table. Some of them had specks of blood on the covers and spines and Severus had to hold back his anger. Left in the bottom of the bag were four owl-feather quills; the tip of one was particularly bloody.

Severus took the rucksack to Albus for inspection, then turned and asked Mzilikazi, "Will the venom left on the quill be sufficient?"

Mzilikazi shook his head. "No… it is too dry and too little to produce an effective antivenin. The potions and spells I have added to the stabilization charms are only for general neurotoxins. They can only slow down the progression of the venom, not stop it. If I am to ensure that your son survives, I need the venom that did this, and I need it quickly."

Albus added soberly, "As it is, someone had to have cast a stasis charm to keep the venom from drying out too soon and losing its effectiveness. As the venom is dry now, it was quite likely a weak one, but still enough to…"

"Have you even identified from what species this venom came from, Isangoma?" Severus asked, purposely cutting of the headmaster, not wanting to hear so casually how someone had plotted his son's demise.

The Isangoma nodded. "This venom came from a Black Mamba."

Remus Lupin rushed down to the hospital wing after ensuring that the all the Gryffindors were safely in the tower. Minerva was busy seeing to Harry and Hermione, and it was left to Remus to see to the safety of the rest of the House in her stead. Down in the dungeons, Aurora Sinistra was doing the same for Severus.

Remus was nearly panicked. He still had no idea what had happened to Harry. He hadn't sent Padfoot a message yet. Remus, frankly, did not know what to tell him as yet and he couldn't risk his friend exposing himself in his panic and making a bad situation even worse.

As soon as Remus stepped into the hospital wing, he stepped into chaos.

"I"LL KILL THE LITTLE BASTARD!"

An enraged Severus Snape came storming towards Remus. Remus caught Severus just as the headmaster waved his wand and slammed the hospital doors behind them.

"Where do you think, you're going, Severus?" Remus said, struggling to hold back his colleague. He didn't know who Severus was going to kill, but he knew the wizard meant business.

Severus smacked Remus' arms away and stood in front of him defiantly. "Don't worry, Lupin. I'm not going after one of your precious lions! I'm going to hang Draco Malfoy off the Tower Bridge and make certain his turncoat father joins him soon after!"

"SEVERUS!"

The sound of the headmaster's booming admonishment was enough to bring Severus back down to earth, but Remus could tell by the wizard's heavy breathing that Severus was still more dangerous than a Hungarian Horntail protecting her nest.

"You will not lay a hand on one of my students. Is that clear?"

"No, it is not clear, headmaster," Severus protested. "My son lies near death and I know for a fact that Lucius Malfoy purchased Mamba venom in Knockturn Alley not three weeks ago! I don't even keep it in my potion stores," he admitted, pointing and tapping his finger at his own chest. "Who else could it have been?"

"Greg Goyle, sir."

Remus noticed Ron standing just behind the headmaster. The boy approached the headmaster, almost tall enough to look him in the eyes.

"Are you certain about this, Mr Weasley? That is quite a serious accusation," Albus asked as his eyes peered over his half-moon glasses, looking for any sign of artifice from Harry's best mate.

Ron seemed to dwell on his accusation. But the momentary look of doubt turned to one of certainty. "It had to have been him, sir. He bumped into Harry just before Potions this morning. Harry's books and quills were scattered over the corridor and Goyle gathered them up. No one else could have got Harry's things."

Remus still had no idea what had happened to Harry. His heart bled when he finally looked over and saw Harry clinging to life in the blue haze of a Support Charm. Hermione was also lying in bed, but she seemed to be nothing more than asleep. Even from this distance, Remus' hearing picked up parts of the conversation between Poppy and her intern. Hermione was suffering from a case of magical and emotional exhaustion—the details of which he would ask later. Somehow, this all involved Draco Malfoy and one of his friends.

"What did I tell you, Albus," Snape ranted, snapping Remus out of his private thoughts. "Goyle doesn't have the brain cells to carry something like this out on his own! Those boys must be punished!"

"And I agree with you, Severus, on both counts. If Messrs Malfoy and Goyle are behind this, then they do deserve to be punished. But we must also keep in mind that they are also boys."

"Boys who choose to play a man's game, headmaster," Snape countered vehemently. "And if they want to play deadly games, I will be more than happy to teach them the consequences of their folly!"

"We have no time to worry about doling out punishment now," Albus told Severus. "If Mr Malfoy did manage to get his hands on that Mamba venom, then he knows where it is. If Mzilikazi is to save Harry, it is imperative we find that venom."

Although Remus did not know the finer details, he knew enough to understand what was going on. Harry had somehow been envenomated with Mamba venom, and Draco Malfoy was the key to finding it.

"The students are in their common rooms right now. I'll go down and find Malfoy and the venom, Headmaster."

Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. His grip was hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "I'll come with you," he said determinedly as he began to walk towards the doors.

Remus rushed to catch up with Severus and then blocked his path. Remus put his hand against his colleague's chest, but Severus resisted, trying to make his way around Remus. "You aren't going anywhere, Severus."

"That is my son lying unconscious, Lupin. If…"

"And he needs his father right here, Snape!" Remus retorted. Snape was opening his mouth to say something but Remus cut him off. "I love Harry too. I want the people who did this to pay just as… almost as much as you do."

Actually, Remus did want the guilty party to pay as much as Severus did. Harry was the closest thing he had to his own child and that's how it would likely remain. But he knew Severus would never see it that way. Remus' tactic seemed to work, because it looked as though the fight was leaving Severus.

Severus' face was tight with frustration as his hands grasped his temples. Severus then ran his fingers through his black hair. He said nothing—only nodded jerkily. He quietly made his way to a chair next to Harry and sank into it until he nearly disappeared. Remus felt sorry for his former nemesis. He had never seen Severus Snape look so close to defeat. But then again, he hadn't been there when Severus found out that Lily died.

Remus wanted to be sitting there next to Harry too, just as he knew Sirius would want to be. But someone had to find the perpetrators and Harry needed his father by his side. Remus' and Sirius' feelings were not a priority at this particular time.

Remus turned to leave only to find the headmaster next to him. The old wizard turned Remus to the side, presumably so Severus could not see them speak. "As important as it that we find Malfoy and Goyle, it is imperative that we find the venom. Mzilikazi has just informed me that the life support charms will begin to weaken as Harry does in the next two to three hours. Without the venom, he cannot guarantee Harry's recovery after that," Albus said so quietly that only Remus could hear.

Remus looked up at Albus in alarm as he realised the full gravity of the situation. He nodded his understanding to the headmaster. "I need Slytherin's password," he said resolutely.

He wouldn't stop until he reached the Slytherin common room.

By the time Remus reached the dungeon corridors, his rage was almost as hot as Severus'. If Malfoy and Goyle were behind this attack on Harry, they would find that their typically mild-mannered Defence teacher was in no mood to play nice.

Just as Remus reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Aurora Sinistra was coming out. The dark skinned witch's normally smooth and placid face was taut with unmistakable worry.

Remus called out, "Aurora, hold the door. I need to speak with a couple of your students!"

As Remus approached closer, he realised that something was very wrong. The smell of fear was practically surging from her pores.

"Remus," Sinistra returned in greeting as she let the door to the common room rest on her foot to afford them some privacy.

"I can tell from the look on your face that there's a problem," Remus said quietly as he looked down at the shorter woman.

Aurora nodded tensely. "Yes. I need to find the headmaster. One of the students is missing."

"Who is it?"

"Gregory Goyle," she said apprehensively. "No one has claimed to have seen him since before lunch, not even Mr Malfoy. Do you think he may have been attacked, too?"

No, he didn't. Remus was more inclined to think that Goyle was in hiding or might try to escape from the castle during all of the chaos. But he only said, assuredly yet in a rush, "I'm sure Mr Goyle is just fine. We'll find him. Did you say Mr Malfoy was inside?"

Aurora nodded. "He was in his dorm with Messers Nott and Zabini when I did the head count, but everyone has been dismissed to roam freely in the common room now."

"I'll ask him about Goyle again," Remus said truthfully. "The headmaster is in the hospital wing with Severus and Harry. You need to tell him what you know."

Aurora replied, "Thank you, Remus," as she rushed down the dungeon corridor.

Remus slipped through the door into a short dark foyer lit by a single sconce that lead into the equally dark and depressing Slytherin common room. There was no natural light in the dungeon common room and the only windows looked out into the murky vastness of the Black Lake, casting the room in an eerie green glow. The lighted sconces only added to the effect by allowing the shadows to move in a wraithlike dance. It was no wonder that Slytherins were so surly, living in such a space nine months out of the year. The snake skulls on the mantel surely didn't help matters.

The sullen and scared students were gathered in groups, no doubt feeding each other speculative theories of what had happened to Harry. Some of those would soon be accepted as fact.

Nott and Zabini were sitting alone by a window hunched over a new game of Wizard's Chess, but there was no sign of Malfoy anywhere amongst the throng of restive students. For all of their supposed cunning, not a single Slytherin had noticed Remus' presence. Severus would be displeased.

A young girl of Indian descent who looked to be no older than a second-year was the first to notice Remus. "Professor! How…what are you…?"

"What can we do for you, Professor?" A large boy, as surly as he was burly, interrupted, placing himself directly between Remus and the rest of the students. The boy was every bit as threatening as he intended to look.

Remus recognised Mr Warrington, Slytherin's large Chaser, from two years ago. The boy might look like a sloth, but he had the wit of a fox and the quickness of a cat and stood eye to eye with Remus. He was not one to be trifled with, but then again—neither was Remus.

The already oppressive feel of the common room became even more so as the tension in the air began to thicken. All eyes were on Remus, and none of them were trusting, but Remus wasn't about to let himself be threatened by any student and there wasn't enough time to be diplomatic or tactful. This time, Remus had no qualms about using his anger to press his advantage.

"I am here at the direct at the request of your Head, Mr Warrington, and unless you want to deal with his wrath as well as mine, I suggest you get out of the way and tell me where I can find Malfoy and Goyle. Don't—move another inch, Mr Zabini!"

Blaise Zabini had abandoned his game and was about to head down the corridor that led to the boy's dorms. He had stopped cold when Remus called him out.

"Draco's alone in the dorm, Professor Lupin, sir—fifth door on the left," Zabini said in an overly loud voice, his head cocked ever-so-slightly to the side so his voice would carry down the corridor. "We haven't seen Goyle."

Remus shouldered past a stunned Warrington without bothering to excuse himself. As his frustration grew, he began to wonder how much of his rising temper was propelled by righteous anger and how much was of it was being influenced by his inner beast. He didn't need Zabini to tell him where Malfoy was. The Wolf was so close to the surface, Remus could smell Malfoy all the way down the corridor.

Unfortunately, he was pressed for time and did not have the luxury of taking a couple of minutes to control himself. He had to find Draco Malfoy and get his hands on that venom now.

Remus didn't even bother to knock. He removed his wand and easily countered any spells that Malfoy might have put in place to lock the door. There was so much power behind his counter-charm he nearly blasted the door off the hinges.

Malfoy had been lying on his bed when he was caught off guard by his professor's sudden intrusion. With nowhere to go, Malfoy was backed up against the wall, reminding Remus of a trapped rabbit. But Remus was beyond sympathy.

"Where is it, Malfoy?" Remus demanded as he pushed Malfoy onto his bed. Draco's momentum was cushioned by the mattress and he bounced slightly as he sat down.

"Where's what?" Malfoy asked in a voice a half an octave higher than was normal for him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Remus ignored addressing Malfoy's language and began rummaging through his dresser without permission. "The Mamba venom—where is it!"

"Hey! Who said you can…"

Remus cut short Malfoy's protest when he slammed shut the bottom drawer. The venom wasn't there. He turned to Malfoy and practically growled, "I don't have time for games, Mr Malfoy. You either tell me where the Mamba venom is now—or you can tell the Aurors an hour from now!"

The fear that grew in Malfoy's eyes was very real. Remus had no idea if it was because the boy was afraid of him or afraid of going to prison. It was probably a bit of both, but either way, fear worked. Malfoy was now on his knees pulling his trunk out from under his bed.

Malfoy opened his trunk and pulled out his potions kit. "I don't understand. What's going on? What does my Paralysis Potion have to do with anything?"

Malfoy handed Remus a brown phial. The wax-sealed stopper had evidence of tampering and the small bottle looked as though it was missing some of its contents. Remus grabbed Malfoy under his arm and forced him to stand.

"For one, this," Remus held the phial up to Malfoy's face for emphasis, "is illegal in Great Britain. You, Mr Malfoy, have a lot of explaining to do!"

"What! Let go of me you filthy bea…. " The boy protested as he tried in vain to break Remus' grip.

"For a Slytherin, you seem to have an underdeveloped sense of self-preservation, Mr Malfoy." Malfoy wisely stopped struggling as his already pale faced paled all the more. "And don't tell it to me. Tell it to the headmaster…and Professor Snape."

As Remus marched Malfoy out of the room, the boy looked up to him in one last show of defiance. "My father will be hearing about this!"

Malfoy sobered when Remus gave him a feral grin and said, "Actually, Mr Malfoy, I'm counting on it."

Severus sat in the chair next to Harry's bed and held his boy's seemingly lifeless hand. He had experienced this kind of intolerable wait and feeling of impending doom before…the night the Dark Lord had visited Godric's Hallow.

That night Severus waited alone for news of the fates of the Potters—of Lily, helpless to control the momentum of events to come.

Harry was sleeping for now, but it was far from a peaceful sleep. The old Isangoma sat on the other side of Harry, not daring to leave the boy's side. Mzilikazi had cast a powerful life support spell on Harry, something Mzilikazi called Phefumula Kahlenje. It was similar to a Spiro that healers often used for artificial respiration, but much more powerful and capable of withstanding the interference of additional incantations.

Without the antivenin, Mzilikazi could only treat Harry symptomatically, and the effort was taking its toll on the old witchdoctor. Harry needed the antivenin or soon no spell would be able to hold back the course of the poison that at that very moment was trying to eat the life out of him.

Severus was ready to jump out of his own skin. He was afraid that if Lupin did not return soon, he would do just that.

Severus had found out that it was the quick thinking and simple first-aid of Harry's friends that had saved the boy's life—not to mention simple dumb luck.

Mzilikazi had mentioned that the loose tourniquet Ms Granger had applied had slowed down the spread of the toxin, and she had managed to keep Harry's heart pumping with her Muggle methods. Severus had never seen Mr Weasley run so fast; the speed in which he sought help bought Harry precious time. However, all of their efforts would have been for naught if that quill had stabbed Harry through a vein. Harry would have been dead before Severus even arrived on the stairs. Severus' son was still in critical condition but, thanks to his friends, he had a fighting chance.

Severus looked gratefully over to Harry's friends. Both teenagers had been given a Sleeping Draught and Ms Granger an additional sedative. She was suffering from a mild case of shock from her ordeal, and Mr Weasley was emotionally exhausted from worry for both of his friends. The boy was slumped over in the chair next to Ms Granger's, still holding the girl's hand.

Minerva had gone to London to inform Ms Granger's parents of their daughter's condition and of her heroic acts. Ms Granger would fully recover in a day or two, but the deputy headmistress would still bring the Muggles to Hogwarts if they wished to see her.

Severus had no idea if word had gotten back to the Order as to Harry's condition. No doubt, Albus had at least informed the Weasleys, as their son was involved, even though he suffered no real injuries. But had word gotten back to Black? Severus assumed that it had not, because the mangy cur had yet to bust through the Floo. Reluctant though he was to admit it, someone needed to inform Harry's godfather. It wouldn't be Severus. Wild hippogriffs couldn't drag him away.

On the other end of the hospital wing, the door creaked open, breaking the deafening silence. Severus upended his chair as he got up in a rage when he saw who Lupin was escorting into the hospital. Severus wanted to put his hands around the throat of the swine that had done this to his son.

Severus wasn't thinking straight as stormed his way to Draco, forgetting that Malfoy was still a boy not much older than Harry. He must have looked as fearsome as he felt, because when Draco spotted Severus, the teen uncharacteristically ducked behind Lupin for protection. To Severus' amazement, Lupin did not allow the little coward to seek refuge and forced Draco in front of him so Malfoy would have to come face to face with the consequences of his injudiciousness.

"Professor Snape…please…I don't understand," Draco blathered as he held his hands in front of him, as if he could distance himself from Severus.

"Severus!"

Severus was only two steps short of wringing Draco Malfoy's scrawny little neck, when the headmaster's booming voice stopped him short. Albus had been in Poppy's office and must have heard the miscreant's protests. Blast Albus Dumbledore for still having the reflexes of men one-third his age.

"I will not have you threatening my students, Professor Snape."

"Then I demand that he be handed over to the Aurors this instant!" Severus seethed. "Possession of Mamba venom, much less bringing it into a school, is enough to have him locked up in Azkaban!"

"But I didn't hurt anybody," the brat tried to deny, the fear of Azkaban clearly plastered across his face. "Can somebody please tell me what the bloody hell this is all about?"

Lupin pulled a small brown phial from his robe pocket and offered it to Albus. "This was in Malfoy's trunk. The boy confirms that it's Mamba venom."

As the headmaster inspected the venom, Malfoy finally noticed took notice of Harry's seemingly lifeless body lying at the far end of the wing. "Wha…what happened to Potter?"

Severus took a threatening step forward, "Why you little shi…." How dare the boy feign ignorance.

"Severus! Sit down! I will handle this!" The headmaster never attempted to temper his tone, and Severus instinctively did as he was told.

Severus tried to look as if he wasn't sulking when he took a chair directly across from Harry's bed. He wanted to hear the headmaster's interrogation of Malfoy, but he also wanted to watch Mzilikazi administer another round of charms as the old Isangoma chanted melodically in some exotic language that Severus had never heard before. He tried to keep his attention on Harry and the witchdoctor, but Albus' questioning of Malfoy won out.

Albus carefully popped open the stopper of the phial that Lupin had and passed it quickly under his nose, just to catch a quick whiff of the contents. The headmaster's blue gaze narrowed as he looked down his crooked nose at Malfoy.

"You may be under the impression that this is Mamba venom, Mr Malfoy, but unless I am mistaken, this phial contains Bundimun secretion. Do you intend on helping the house-elves clean the dorms this term?"

"That can't be," Malfoy protested as he reached to snatch the bottle out of the headmaster's hands. The old man evaded Malfoy's grasp rather deftly, for someone who was older than the ocean was deep. "That's the same bottle I nic…erm…father gave me for my Potions project."

Severus couldn't sit any longer; he was at the headmaster's side before anyone noticed he was out of his chair. The headmaster simply handed Severus the phial he knew Severus wanted to inspect for himself.

Albus cast Severus a glance that seemed to say, I thought I told you to sit down. Severus returned a glare that said, Make me.

"The headmaster is correct, this is Bundimun secretion," Severus said coolly as he held it towards Lupin without relinquishing the phial. "But it is tainted."

Lupin leaned over and sniffed the contents of the phial. "He's right," Lupin agreed. His precise sense of smell had caught the same off-scent that Severus' expert nose had. "But I don't recognise the contaminant."

"How can that be?" Malfoy asked. "I never opened it."

"I seems as though you have fallen victim to what Muggles refer to as, 'the old switcharoo, Mr Malfoy," the headmaster said with a surprisingly straight face.

That now familiar sense of panic began to rise in Severus' gut again and he could taste the bile in his throat. If it wasn't the venom, then that would mean no antivenin… and Harry was running out of time.

Albus snatched the phial out of Severus' hand and went to consult his friend. In the meantime, Severus took the opportunity to interrogate Malfoy himself.

He crossed his arms and leaned in. "I know your father did not give you that venom. Even he isn't obtuse enough to give a Class-five toxin to a teenaged boy. Care to tell us how it came into your possession? The truth this time, if you please, Mr Malfoy."

Malfoy took a step back and bumped into Lupin. He looked up in terror, but did not move. He apparently thought the protection the surly werewolf offered a safer alternative to Severus' wrath. The boy was right.

"Alright…I nicked it! So what? I just wanted it for my Potions project!"

"For all the good it would have done you." Severus retorted. "I would have failed you as soon as I realised what you had used. You weren't thick enough to tell anyone else about this, were you? I know how fond you are of gloating."

Another look of fear crept into Malfoy's eyes. It was the fear of realization. "I showed it to Greg on the train."

"Mr Goyle might be a bully, but he has never done anything this drastic," Remus interjected. "Do you know if he had a motive to want to hurt Harry like this…or kill him?"

Malfoy nodded then looked back and forth between his two professors in a near panic. "I think he did. Really…I didn't think he was serious at the time. I thought he was just trying to sound important and he was just venting because of Vincent," he said defensively.

"What did Mr Goyle tell you?" Severus asked impatiently.

"His father told him that Vincent's murder had something to do with Potter," Malfoy replied hurriedly. "Greg said that Mr Goyle told him that…"

Malfoy shut up when he remembered he wasn't speaking in front of allies.

"That the Dark Lord would reward the person who manages to bring him Mr Potter—perhaps even initiate their firstborn into the Inner Circle," Severus finished darkly.

Malfoy's jaw dropped at Severus' open declaration.

"Sir…I…I…"

"Stop blubbering and think, Mr Malfoy!" Severus snapped. His peripheral vision just managed to see Filius Flitwick rush past to speak to the headmaster, most likely assuring him that the castle was now secure. However, Severus' attention swiftly shifted back to questioning Malfoy. "Did he have access to the venom at any time? Did you leave him alone? Did you even bother to ward your effects? "

Malfoy's face contorted as he realised his stupidity. "I put it back in my bag and placed in the overhead compartment, then stepped out to use the loo when the attack happened on the train. I was held up for about twenty minutes while the Aurors handled things. It was the only time he could have gotten to it. He stayed up late last night after the feast."

"Mr Malfoy, do you know where Mr Goyle is right now?" Lupin asked with only slightly more patience than Severus would have managed.

Malfoy shook his head. "No, Professor, I haven't seen him since Potions."

Lupin turned to Severus and said needlessly, "We have to find Mr Goyle as soon as possible."

"Spare me your Gryffindor proclivity for stating the obvious," Severus retorted. He sharply turned to go speak to Albus.

Filius stood with the headmaster and the Isangoma, speaking urgently. The Ravenclaw Head of House handed something to Mzilikazi and the old wizard had a look of relief, whilst Albus still seemed grave.

"Is that the venom?" Severus asked hopefully.

"It is," the Isangoma replied. "It is good that it has been found now. Your Ingane…there is not much time. I must make the Isibiba now if he is to have a chance."

Severus felt the now-familiar rush of panic well up inside him again. He felt he could drown in it but, for the sake of his son, he could not give in to it. As Mzilikazi vanished into Poppy's office to create the antivenin, Severus looked upon his son. It was obvious that, despite Harry's comatose state, he was in pain. Even in Harry's apparent sleep, his young face was tight, fighting an unseen battle in which Severus was helpless to intervene. The witchdoctor's charms were slipping, and so was Harry's time.

"Harry needs me," Severus said faintly—almost to himself.

"Severus, wait."

Albus had gently grabbed Severus' forearm. Over the headmaster's shoulder, Severus caught sight of Malfoy sitting on the edge of an empty bed, soberly awaiting his fate whist Lupin stood menacing guard.

"What is it, Albus?" Severus inquired numbly. "Harry needs m…," he nearly repeated.

"Severus, Filius found young Mr Goyle."

Severus took a sharp breath and forcibly pushed down the intense anger that threatened to explode out of him. "Is he with the Aurors?" he asked hotly. "I want him tried as an adult."

"There will be no trial, Severus."

Severus clenched his fist tightly, fighting back the urge to punch his employer. "What do you mean, there will be no trial!"

"Severus."

Severus looked down on his colleague when he heard Flitwick's small voice. "I found Mr Goyle dead in one of the abandoned classrooms in the dungeon," he said sympathetically. "It looked as though he was attempting to sabotage more quills when he accidentally scratched himself."

Ashamed though he was to admit it, Severus felt no sympathy for Gregory Goyle just then. Goyle unintentionally killed himself by the exact means he intentionally meant to kill Harry. As far as Severus was concerned, the gormless idiot's cock-up with the venom had saved Severus from becoming a murderer. Perhaps later, when Harry was stable, could he spare some sympathy for the boy—but not right now. Severus took a deep breath and fortified the wall that kept his surging emotions at bay. He did not bother to answer.

"Filius, when Minerva returns, inform her that I want Slytherin House moved into temporary quarters in the East Tower. All of his effects need to be searched, as well as the whole of the dungeons. It seems to me he had a secondary target." Albus cut a meaningful glance to Severus. "He may have inadvertently dropped one of these quills or even managed to plant one on Severus' desk. We can't risk anyone else stumbling upon one."

Severus inwardly agreed with Albus. Gregory Goyle might not have had the wits know the difference between dragon dung and rabbit pellets, but he had managed to successfully get to Harry. They did not have the luxury of underestimating the boy again.

There was a note of reluctance in Filius' voice when he asked, "And the boy's family?"

"I will inform them. Unfortunately, I cannot be subtle about the circumstances lest the Goyles insist upon involving the Ministry."

Filius nodded dutifully and left to fulfill his task.

Once his colleague was out of earshot, Severus said knowingly, "They won't want Ministry involvement. David will not wish to attract their scrutiny. Doubtless, he will publicly attribute his son's death to a freak accident or a heretofore unknown illness. He will see his need to have his… associations… to remain undisclosed as advantageous. "

Albus then turned to Severus. "I know it is customary for the Head of House to accompany the headmaster in situations such as this, but with circumstances being as they are…."

"I have no desire to speak with them," Severus agreed. If he were to confront David Goyle, Severus would most likely be the one sent to Azkaban. "As David cannot breach the castle wards, you should find Magda having tea with Narcissa Malfoy at Malfoy Manor. According to Lucius the ladies gather together on Mondays. She will need someone with her when you break the news."

Albus patted Severus caringly on the shoulder. "Stay here with your son, Severus. I'll see to your House and your lessons." The headmaster sighed as he looked over to Malfoy and Lupin. "I'll have Professor Lupin break the news to Mr Malfoy about his friend and inform him of Harry's mission. We are running out of time and we cannot wait for Harry's recovery." He shook his head. "His two best friends inside as many weeks…poor boy."

Severus swallowed hard. It seemed that, although Draco had been infinitely stupid in bringing the Mamba venom to school, he had no involvement in the attack on Harry. He allowed himself a little pity for the boy, but decided to allow Narcissa to give him comfort when she undoubtedly would arrive with Magda. Severus had his own son to attend to.

He sat down next to Harry and took his son's hand. Harry's hand was cold. If it hadn't been sticky with clamminess, it would have felt like the hand of a corpse. If he had bothered to look behind him, he would have seen a devastated Malfoy, weeping piteously on the shoulder of his most hated professor as he stubbornly refused Poppy's entreaties that he take a Calming Draught.

After a few minutes, Severus could feel tremors emitting from deep within Harry's skin. The charms would be broken soon and the convulsions would begin again before death took Harry. Severus was wondering what was taking the Isangoma so long when the old man finally emerged from Poppy's office.

Severus gave Harry's hand an encouraging squeeze then bent over and whispered into his ear, "You only need to hold on a little bit longer, son."

He stepped back as the witchdoctor approached. "There is hope now," Mzilikazi announced unceremoniously. "No matter what you see, you cannot stop the Ubuthakathi." With no further word or explanation, he poured the antivenin over the haze of the stasis charm that sustained Harry. The mist seemed to drink in the potion as it turned from blue to purple.

Severus paced back and forth in front of Harry's bed as the Isangoma began to chant, "Ulalela mina umntankhe. Buya ukufa. Buyela impilo. Buyela uyihlo…Ulalela mina umntakhe. Buya…"

By the third incantation, Harry began to shake and convulse. Every instinct in Severus' body screamed to him to run to his son, but Mzilikazi said the spell could not be interrupted and the wizard seemed unconcerned with the change in Harry's condition.

Severus bit the inside of his cheek and pounded his fist against his thigh. He couldn't remember the last time he had given in to his nervous tics. It was all he could do to keep from snatching up his son and trying to take on the boy's suffering himself.

Finally, Harry's seizures began to quiet, but still Mzilikazi continued to chant.

"Severus, can I get you something?"

Severus turned abruptly at the sound of Lupin's concerned voice. Poppy was standing behind him. They had apparently talked Draco into the Calming Draught and the boy had drifted into a fitful sleep.

Severus shook his head. "No, I'll be fine," he said dully. "Perhaps it's time you fetched Harry's… dog," he said cryptically.

Lupin touched Severus' arm, but he shrugged off the man's hand. Lupin replied warily, "Perhaps I should wait until after we know something."

"But what if after all of Mzilikazi's efforts, it doesn't work? He will want to say…want to say good…." Severus nearly choked on the words.

"You mustn't think like that, Severus," Poppy said emphatically. "Harry is young—he is strong. It will work."

Poppy was right. They were so close. It wasn't time for Severus to give into despair. But come what may, Black would have to be told something soon.

The next few minutes, as Severus watched helplessly while the old wizard continued his work, seemed like an eternity. The children still slept and time stood still. Mzilikazi's words echoed in Severus' head and he began to chant the silently, Ulalela mina umntankhe. Buya ukufa. Buyela impilo. Buyela uyihlo. He had no idea what the words meant, but still chanted them silently, like a desperate prayer, until they reached a deafening crescendo in his mind.

Then…silence.

The Isangoma had stopped his chanting. This mist around Harry was gone and Harry seemed to be breathing normally.

Mzilikazi was obviously tired. He leaned on his staff, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. He looked up at Severus and smiled broadly, his mouth full of small teeth. "He will need rest, Ubaba, but your boy will live."

Severus had never felt such a rush of relief in his entire life. Against some powerful odds, Harry was going to live. Severus' son had skirted death once again.

His mouth felt as dry as cotton, but Severus did manage to numbly thank the Isangoma, Mzilikazi.

Mzilikazi acknowledge Severus' gratitude with a slight nod. "It is only a matter of the Ingane resting. I will suggest to your Umlengokazi that he be given a private room once he awakens on his own. He is in no more danger from Ubuhlungu but the see-zures,"Mzilikazi struck his chest, indicating Harry's lungs. "He is bruised here. Your boy can still fall ill with…"

"Pneumonia?" Severus offered when Mzilikazi seemed to struggle for the word. It was a common illness to be wary of when a patient suffered pulmonary injury.

The Isangoma nodded. "Yes, new-mon-ya," Mzilikazi enunciated. "Your Umlengokazi, Poppy, can treat him with the proper potions, but the boy will still need his rest for a few days."

"I can't thank you enough, Isangoma," Severus said gratefully. "If there is ever anything I can do for you, I would be honoured."

"No, Ubaba. There is no need for you to thank me." Mzilikazi smiled, showing his small, gleaming, white teeth. "It is the least I can do for the Inganebusisia. Even in my country, we are aware of how he stopped the spread of evil and that he will be needed again someday, if that evil is to be vanquished once and for good."

Severus felt as if his gut were full of lead. He had always known that Albus was playing some deep game where Harry was concerned. Mzilikazi seemed to know something about Harry. True, there wasn't much about Harry that the witchdoctor could not have found out by simply flipping through a modern history book. But before Severus could query him, the Isangoma had said his goodbyes and informed him he would still be in the country for a couple more days should the need him, then vanished through the Floo in Poppy's office.

"Since I know better than to ask you to go to your quarters and get some rest, Severus, I'll take it upon myself to bring you a change of clothing and some personal effects."

Severus had nearly forgotten that Albus and Lupin were still behind him, also waiting for word about Harry.

Exhaustion from the day's emotional chaos was beginning to catch up with Severus. Normally he would not have accepted Albus' help for such a simple matter as packing an overnight bag. But frankly, at the moment, Severus didn't have the energy or will to do it himself. "Thank you, Albus. I appreciate it," he said flatly.

"Severus, now that Harry is stable, perhaps I should go talk to Sirius?" Lupin's voice turned the statement into a question. He was obviously fearful of how Severus would react.

Severus sighed deeply. He honestly had no desire to deal with an overly emotional Black. In a perfect world he wouldn't have to deal with Black at all, and no doubt the mutt would find some way to blame Harry's situation on Severus. But life wasn't perfect and as much as Severus hated to admit it, Black needed to be told or else he would make life even more difficult for Severus later on.

"Go tell him," Severus said reluctantly. "But he cannot visit Harry yet. It's too dangerous."

"You know what he'll say," Lupin said in warning.

"I don't give a rat's ar…"

Albus interrupted Severus before he could finish his tirade. "Remus, I must agree with Severus on this matter. Sirius is still a wanted man and he could jeopardize more than just his freedom if he is recognised."

"I'll do what I can," Lupin said sceptically, then left.

After Lupin had gone, Albus turned to Severus. "Severus, with your permission, whilst I'm gathering your effects, I'd like to search your quarters."

"Why ever for?"

"On the off-chance that Mr Goyle or a cohort managed to slip past your wards and sabotage your living space."

"Albus, you would have difficulty entering my quarters without my permission. I doubt very seriously that a student could—."

"I'd prefer not to make assumptions. Please, indulge an old man's request," Albus beseeched.

Severus nodded his approval, but before he could give it voice one of the wide hospital doors opened just a foot or two and a small, squat, silver animal trotted in. As it approached them, Severus could tell it was an English bulldog, Pomona Sprout's Patronus.

Pomona's soft voice spoke from the spectre-like dog. "Albus, Magda Goyle and her brother are here to claim her son."

As a parent, Severus would have felt pity for Magda, if he hadn't known she had fully supported her husband's Death Eater involvement. As the only girl born to the Selwyns, she had been indoctrinated to the importance of breeding the next generation of pure-blooded wizards and witches. Severus knew that her older brother, Claudius, was already a member of the Dark Lord's inner circle and that, with Claude and David's help, she had been encouraging her only son and younger brother to do the same. Severus wondered if she would see her son's death as a sign of the madness of Voldemort's cause, or a worthy sacrifice in the name of pure-blood supremacy. But what good was pure-blood supremacy if it sacrificed its children? Severus wondered if many Death Eaters pondered that little paradox. He doubted that the Goyles or Selwyns did. They were almost as fanatical over bloodlines as the Blacks. In the early days, Severus thought it odd that Magda hadn't taken on the Mark herself, but in the days following the first war the reasons became apparent—Culpable Ignorance, or at least the appearance of it. It was a defence that kept many involved pure-blood families intact when Ministry head-hunters came knocking after the Dark Lord's initial downfall.

Albus sighed heavily and said to the Patronus, "I'll be there in a moment." He then turned back to Severus and said, "I'll see to your jim-jams when I'm finished dealing with Mr Goyle's family. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"As a matter of fact, there is, Albus. A book…."

Severus told Albus the book he wanted, and where he should find it. His mentor agreed to oblige him, but Severus suddenly felt very guilty for asking Albus to make the extra effort.

Albus met Severus' eyes with his. Exhaustion had taken its toll on the venerable wizard almost as much as it had Severus. Behind the half-moon glasses, Albus' sparkling, deep-blue eyes suddenly seemed very pale and tired. He had to attend to Magda Goyle first.

"Be thankful you are not headmaster, Severus. It is times like these that I truly hate my job," he said wearily.

Severus swallowed hard. He wondered how many times over his long tenure the headmaster had to inform parents about the death of their child.

It would be another two hours before Severus found any rest. Minerva was back and she had come to check on Harry and his friends after making the rounds in Gryffindor tower to check on the wellbeing of her lions.

The students were confined to their common rooms whilst the school was being checked for additional sabotage, and then there would be the eventual interrogation of Goyle's acquaintances. Severus hoped that Albus could convince the Aurors to hold off on the questioning until Harry was stronger. Severus wanted to be there: not only for the grim pleasure of watching any co-conspirators being hauled off to Azkaban, but he also needed to insure that the innocent were protected. After all, Severus knew damn well that near all—if not all—of the suspects would come from Slytherin House. Over ninety-eight percent of those questioned would have no connections with Death Eaters, but the Ministry was infamous for finding suspects guilty until proven innocent. But as far as Severus was aware, Goyle never sought social interaction outside his own house so, once again, Slytherin would be blamed for the ills of the Wizarding world.

Minerva had informed Severus that Harry's housemates had voiced concern over his condition, as well as asked about Mr Weasley and Ms Granger, as they had not yet returned to the tower.

For the first time, Severus looked over at Harry's friends with true concern. He had overheard Poppy speak to Albus of their situation, but he had been too worried over Harry to care much. But now that Harry was on his way to recovery, Severus could afford to turn some of his attention to Ms Granger and Mr Weasley.

Severus had never much considered Harry's relationship with his friends. Other than Lily, Severus had never put his trust in any of his schoolmates to develop any bonds strong enough to call friendship. But today Mr Weasley and Ms Granger had proven exactly how much Harry meant to them.

Mr Weasley was still in the chair where he had fallen asleep. Poppy said he could go back to his House as soon as he woke up. Although he had never let go of Ms Granger's hand, he stayed in a position where he could keep his eyes on Harry and quietly watched everything that happened until the boy gave into his own exhaustion.

Ms Granger was another matter. With her best friend nearly dying in her arms, she had gone into an emotional shock. The poor girl was white and shaken when she was brought into the hospital just after Harry. Poppy practically doused Ms Granger with enough Calming Draught to knock over an Erumpent before the girl was calm enough to give into sleep.

Lupin suggested the possibility that while she was assisting Harry's breathing, Ms Granger might have been poisoned herself in trying to resuscitate Harry. Lupin was not familiar with Muggle mouth-to-mouth. Severus wasn't much more familiar than he. He had heard of the process, but it was obsolete when one was a talented wizard who knew the correct spell. But Mzilikazi and Poppy had both assured everyone that Ms Granger could not have been poisoned by performing CPR and mouth-to-mouth on Harry.

"Have Ms Granger's parents been contacted?" Severus asked.

Severus and Minerva both looked over to where Harry's friends were sleeping. "There's no need," Minerva said. "She'll be back with her classmates by lunchtime tomorrow."

In the past, Severus would have agreed with the Deputy Headmistress, but things were different now.

"I assure you, Minerva, as a parent, if I were not to hear that my child had a stay in the hospital wing, no matter what his condition, and I had not been told, there would be hell to pay," Severus told her.

Minerva's lips tightened into a thin line. She did not like being corrected on a matter that should have been so obvious, but she nodded her head in agreement.

Minerva sighed, "I suppose you're right, Severus. It just didn't seem so important considering the seriousness of Harry's condition and seeing that she's in no danger."

"Trust me, Minerva—it's important."

"I'll contact them myself as soon as Albus has finished his business with the Goyles." She gave Severus a wan smile and placed an aged hand on his shoulder. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know Harry's going to be okay, for both of your sakes. I have never seen either one of you as happy as you have been this summer."

Severus had returned her half-smile but said nothing as she left. Minerva was right. Severus had been happy. This summer had been his happiest since Lily was alive. He had been happier than he deserved to be. The fact that Harry had been happy too was nothing less than a minor miracle as far as Severus was concerned.

Had Harry been so desperate for family, for any kind of parental love and guidance, that he was so easily willing to forgive Severus for four years of what was nothing less than bullying? As much as Severus was grateful for Harry and the trust and love the boy so obviously felt for him, Severus could not help but feel angry at the Dursleys because of it. Harry should have never have been so desperate for love.

It occurred to Severus that he had been desperate, too. After years of convincing others that he was incapable of any tender emotion, he had nearly convinced himself. He had forgotten what it meant to love someone and truly thought that he never needed to again after Lily was gone. It had left him hard and bitter. But how easily had that façade melted away when he had realized that the child that Lily had borne was his own. Severus had not known how desperately he wanted to love again until he realized how empty his life had been without it. The embodiment of all Severus ever loved lived in his son, Harry. As Harry lay still fighting for his life, Severus willed his own strength to his son. He would not need it if Harry didn't live.

Several hours later, Severus did not know how many, he found himself waking up in the chair next to Harry's bed. He had nearly forgotten that Albus had transfigured the hard, straight chair into a comfortable recliner. On the floor next to him was a black leather satchel.

Severus picked up his overnight bag and placed it on the side table next to him. On top of his pyjamas and a clean set of robes was the book he had asked for, The Black Pearl. The pages were long yellowed and smelled dusty, but he could not help but smile for the fond memories the tome invoked. He needed this respite as much as Harry.

After Minerva had left, the day had continued to go pear-shaped. Lupin had failed to keep Black in his kennel.

The mangy black cur had trotted into the hospital wing as bold as brass with Lupin close at his heels, hoping that no one had noticed.

"What is he doing here?" Severus asked, attempting to keep his voice down. "Did the Goyles see him?"

The headmaster followed directly behind Black and Lupin. He shut and warded the massive hospital door behind him. "No," Albus said too calmly. "The Goyles left with young Greg about five minutes before Sirius arrived in my floo."

Severus was livid. The idiot had nearly been seen by a Death Eater family and he had the audacity to transfigure back into his human form with Poppy just inside her office. Severus just managed to cast a Muffliato spell at her door before Black noisily started in on his tirade. Of course Black accused Severus of being a negligent parent and wanted to know why he hadn't been informed of Harry's condition immediately. Albus and Lupin had warned him that the situation was too dangerous and that he should leave. He would be kept apprised of Harry's situation.

It was obvious the extent in which Black was upset. Like all Gryffindors, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Through tears held back by anger he said, "I don't understand. Why is it he can stay and I cannot?" Black pointed an accusing finger at Severus.

It was all Severus could do to keep from punching Black. "I am Harry's father and you are a fugitive from Azkaban," Severus said.

Severus had hit a sore spot with Black and he knew it. Black's face turned crimson and Severus noticed that he was pumping his fist. He, too, was trying to keep his anger in check for Harry's benefit. A part of Severus reluctantly understood what his rival was feeling. As distasteful as it was for him to do it, Severus would offer a compromise to the rabid mutt for the sake of his son.

Severus looked down at his ill son. Harry's breathing had become more even and it had the effect of a balm on his raw nerves, so it was easier to be charitable to Black. "Black, I will make you a deal. Leave now, and once Harry is stable enough to be moved to a private room, you may visit as often as you like. But for now you need to leave. If you are seen… if the wrong people realize how close you are to Harry, not only will you have to worry about the Ministry, but the Dark Lord himself."

"I'm not afraid of Voldemort," Black nearly spat. "I want to be here for Harry. I'm willing to take that chance!"

Severus shot back in return, "But I'm not! I know you're a self-centred git but this is about neither you nor me. This is about Harry's safety! The more you expose yourself, the more vulnerable you make him. We are desperately trying to keep as many doors closed to our enemies as possible. We don't need you to open anymore."

"But…"

"Black," Severus said through gritted teeth, "I believe that my offer is more than generous. You may either leave of your own accord now, or I will have you escorted out, and I will have you barred from seeing Harry anywhere outside Headquarters."

Black looked to Albus for help. "He can't do that!"

"I'm afraid he can, Sirius. He is Harry's father," Albus said sympathetically. "And Severus is right. The more danger you put yourself in, the harder it is for us to protect Harry. But I will agree to his compromise. You can visit Harry once we move him into a secure private room.

Black finally conceded defeat, practically making Severus promise just short of an Unbreakable Vow that he could visit Harry once he was moved.

Severus watched as Lupin escorted the great black dog out of the room. Severus had never seen such a sad-looking creature in his life. "He is not a happy man," Severus mused.

"I suppose he wouldn't be." Albus agreed. "We must remember that these past years have taken their toll on the poor man. Once I'm confident that the children are safe from forces both in and outside of Hogwarts, I will devote the time to see him exonerated. If he had not gone on the run last year, I would have seen that these matters would have already been taken care of. But as it is… I now have other, more pressing, matters to contend with."

It wasn't long after Albus had gone that Severus had afforded himself some sleep. He had not noticed his bag in Albus' hands when he came in chasing after Sirius Black. The headmaster must have returned after Severus fell asleep.

Severus put the satchel back down on the floor, but kept the book. He was about to read it when he heard the distinct padding of bare feet across the floor. One of the children had awakened.

There was no way that Ms Granger had recovered from so many potions, so that just left…

"Mr Weasley, you may see him." Severus laid the book on his lap and waited.

A freckled face crowned with messy red hair peeked around the privacy curtain.

"Um… I'm sorry, Professor," the boy said warily. "I don't want to intrude, but didn't mean to fall asleep. I was wondering about Harry."

Mr Weasley took a cautious step forward. Poppy had transfigured his school robes into pyjamas.

"His full recovery will take time," Severus said as he gently grasped Harry's arm, reassuring himself that his son was still alive. "He will live."

Mr Weasley was still standing by the partition, seemingly still too scared to move any closer to Severus. He seemed fixated on Severus' hand lying on Harry's arm. The boy's Adam's apple bobbed nervously.

Mr Weasley looked back to where the girl was sleeping. "How is she?"

"Madam Pomfrey gave her a Calming Draught and some Dreamless Sleep," Severus said. "She was in a bit of a state of shock, but she will be just fine. I believe Professor McGonagall has made arrangements for her parents to see her in the morning."

A bit of tension seemed to leave Ronald's shoulders. "Hermione will like that," he said wearily.

"How are you feeling, Mr Weasley?"

Severus' question seemed to catch the boy off centre. "Um… I'm fine. A bit tired s'all."

"It's been an emotionally draining day for us all," Severus admitted, ignoring the teenager's sloppy speech. "I see Madam Pomfrey has readied you for bed, and as it is after curfew, you might as well wait until morning to go back to your common room."

"Thank you, sir."

Severus nodded. He considered the tall, lanky boy before him. He seemed as if he were ready to fall over, so Severus conjured a padded chair and offered it to him. "If you don't feel like going back to sleep yet, Mr Weasley, you may sit and join me for a while."

Ronald turned his head, as if Severus were speaking to someone behind him. Mr Weasley pointed at his own chest and barely muttered, "Me?"

"Whilst I realize there must be about dozen 'Mr Weasleys' roaming the grounds of the school, at present you are the only one here." Severus' mouth gave a wry quirk as he turned to gently lift Harry's head with one hand and fluff his son's pillow with the other.

Severus gave a deep chuckle. Severus couldn't blame the boy for feeling uncomfortable, but his fidgeting was rather comical. The confused look on his face and his reluctance to sit in the chair seemed as though Ronald expected the chair to explode as soon as his arse sat down. Although he had spent time at Severus' home, the boy looked as though he were ready to run for his life at any given moment.

As amusing as Severus found the boy's nervousness to be, it was time to put him at ease again. "Mr Weasley—Ronald—you must know by now that you have nothing to fear from me."

"No… of course not, sir." Mr Weasley hardly sounded convinced, but he did look more comfortable, if only slightly.

Now that Ronald had settled down, it was Severus who felt out of sorts. He needed to state why he wanted Harry's friend to stay, but he was at an uncharacteristic loss for words. After all, there were just as many years of animosity to break through with this boy as there were with Harry. Since Severus couldn't find a way to ease into the conversation, he did what he always found best to do—he went straight to the point.

"I wish to thank you, Mr Weasley—and Ms Granger as well."

"I don't think I understand, sir?"

"Your quick thinking managed to save Harry's life."

Mr Weasley said dismissively, "There was no thinking involved in it, sir. After all of these years hanging around Harry, it sort of becomes second nature. Besides, Hermione did all the hard work. I just ran for help."

"It seems that your instinct serves you well. You knew where we would be. Had we been any later reaching Harry, today could have had a much sadder outcome."

Ronald went pale as if in a momentary state of shock himself. Severus supposed he understood. He rarely complimented students, and never another Gryffindor, with the recent exception of his own son. The boy was positively dumbstruck. Severus' next statement should floor the boy.

"Your instinct was also correct about Mr Goyle. It was he who planted the venom-laced quill in Harry's bag."

But Ronald Weasley was expressing an altogether different emotion than Severus expected. "That son of a bitch," the boy said under his breath, digging his fingers into the arm of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

Normally, Severus would have jumped at the chance to take a hundred points from one of Harry's Gryffindor friends for using such language. But now, Severus felt a new kinship towards Ronald Weasley.

"Do they put underage wizards in Azkaban?" Ronald asked, "Because expulsion isn't good enough."

"Justice was swift in this case, Mr Weasley—and although the headmaster would be disinclined to agree with me— I feel it was apposite. Mr Goyle suffered the same death he intended for Harry."

Ronald closed his eyes tightly. "I'm glad."

Severus could tell that the boy had conflicting feelings for being happy at another's death. But the truth was the truth and sometimes it was ugly.

"I understand how you feel." Severus truly did relate to how the boy felt, though Severus felt no shame at his own feelings. His innocence was lost long ago, but something inside mourned for the lost innocence of Harry's friend.

Ronald wiped away a guilty tear from his eye and Severus felt awkward again. He had difficulty counselling his own son, much less someone else's.

Perhaps he should contact the boy's father. Yes—Severus would Floo-call Arthur Weasley in the afternoon. All the better for the elder Mr Weasley to deal with his son's angst. Severus had his hands full with Harry.

But there was something else Severus needed to discuss with Ronald Weasley. It was perhaps the most difficult subject of all.

"There is something else I wanted to thank you for, Mr Weasley."

Ronald looked at him quizzically, "Really? What's that?"

"For sticking by Harry all of these years," Severus said, swallowing hard on his guilt. "I have seen your unwavering devotion to him. You and Ms Granger have given him comfort and support where the adults in his life clearly failed him."

"I was a right git to him last year during the tournament," Ronald said quietly. "I was jealous."

"You also thought he had kept a secret from you," Severus said knowingly. He had watched the drama unfold the year before. He overheard the gossip from the student body and had surmised what had happened to the best friends. "That is a valid reason to be angry with a friend. You obviously saw your error because the two of you have made amends, but it is just as obvious that you never betrayed Harry's trust during the entire ordeal. That is the hallmark of a true friend."

Ronald nodded, then took a deep breath. He seemed to be mustering his Gryffindor courage.

"Professor Snape, I know that you feel bad for the way you've treated Harry all of those years—and really, you should," the boy added. "But don't dwell on it too long, because this is the happiest I've ever seen Harry—ever. And if he can forgive you, then I guess I can, too."

Severus looked over to Harry. It was the second time today that someone had mentioned how happy Harry was. Was the boy really happy? Had he really forgiven him? Had Severus made such a difference in his life so quickly?

Ronald continued, "Hermione and me—we've always tried to help him when we could, but we're not adults. Harry needed an adult he could trust—he needed a parent. And sir, take it from a kid with two of them—you've been a good parent to Harry. You're a good dad to him. And I thank you for that, sir. You've surprised us all."

Severus could only smile wanly. "Trust me, Mr Weasley. No one is more surprised than I."

After a few moments of awkward silence, Severus decided that it was time to change the maudlin subject. He coughed nervously and said, "I was just about to read to Harry… you may stay and listen if you like."

"Sure… why not." Ronald squirmed in his chair, apparently glad to change the topic as well. The whole exchange had been awkward for Severus. He could only imagine how discomfited the boy must feel after sharing such personal sensibilities with Hogwarts' dreaded Potions Master.

"What are you going to read?" Ronald finally asked.

"The Black Pearl. It was my favourite book in my youth."

"Really?" Ron said with genuine curiosity. "I have never heard of it."

Severus held back the remark that he doubted the boy ever read anything other than a Quidditch magazine. "I doubt you would have heard of it Mr Weasley. It's a Muggle book."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really. My father was a Muggle, I'll have you know. This particular book was a gift from Harry's maternal grandparents to me. They were Muggles as well."

The boy mumbled something that Severus did not catch. He had an odd look on his face, as if recalling something humorous.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Weasley?"

"Oh… nothing… nothing, sir," the boy said almost too quickly. "It's just I've always pegged you for a pure-blood. Though admittedly, I've never heard of the Snapes."

"It must be the 'Death Eater thing'," Severus said dryly. Most people assumed that Death Eaters were exclusively pure-blood. The Dark Lord was certainly fanatical about it.

Severus was actually surprised, and admittedly a bit stung, that Harry had not told his friend about his family. Then it occurred to Severus that he had never told Harry much about their family tree. Albeit, Severus found that his family on both sides had been nothing to be proud of, but it was still something that Harry should be aware of. It was his right to know.

Ronald chuckled nervously. "Yeah… that must be it."

Although Death Eaters are never a pleasant topic to discuss, Severus had a sneaking suspicion that that wasn't 'it'. Severus would never know that Ronald wasn't imagining him in Death Eater robes, but rather, singing Muggle tunes.

Severus glared at Ronald sceptically, but decided not to push the subject. "As I was saying. The book."

"Yes, sir," Mr Weasley said too enthusiastically. Severus was getting concerned about the boy. He almost looked as though he were holding back a laugh, but for the life of him, Severus couldn't think of anything that was that funny.

Seeing that the conversation was now ended, Severus finally began the coming-of-age morality tale.

Severus read the story to his unconscious son and his son's semi-conscious friend for an hour and a half, the cadence of his voice rising and falling as he read on.

Ronald seemed to have a keen interest in the story at first, but the longer Severus read, the drowsier the boy became, until he fell asleep in the chair. It was the second time that day Ronald Weasley fell asleep sitting up.

Severus decided to keep reading to Harry, and discovered an altogether opposite effect.

"Hi, Dad," said a familiar but weak voice

Severus stopped his reading. In fact, his heart nearly stopped, or was it about to jump out of his chest? He breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at his son. Fever had caused Harry's raven hair to stick uncomfortably to his forehead and Severus gently brushed it away with a calloused finger. Severus placed a soft kiss above Harry's brow, then touched his forehead to his boy's.

Severus did not bother to hide his tears as he whispered hoarsely, "Hi, son."

The sound of Harry's weak voice was the most beautiful sound Severus ever heard and his swollen, yet open, bloodshot eyes, the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Severus was never a man to believe in the miraculous but that had changed this night. To Severus, Harry's recovery was nothing short of a miracle.

Harry grimaced,"M'Dad. I hurt." Harry's voice was so weak and slurred, Severus could scarcely understand him.

Harry's declaration of pain concerned Severus. He looked over his son closely. It was no wonder the boy was in pain. Harry was still black and blue from his violent seizing.

Before Severus could ask Harry where he hurt, Poppy and Mzilikazi were hovering over father and son. It was obvious to Severus that he was in the way of the professionals, so he reluctantly stepped back so they could care for his son.

"Harry this is Mzilikazi Isangoma." Severus looked over at the wizened wizard to make sure he had said the man's title correctly. Mzilikazi nodded to Severus as he continued to look over his son. "He saved your life, Harry."

Harry blinked. "Thank you, Mr Isangoma," he managed to croak. His face contorted with pain. It was obvious that the boy couldn't say much else.

"Sawubona, Mr Snape…Uyamukelwa,"said the wizard as he continued his inspection of Harry. "You may call me Mzilikazi, for that is who I am. Or you may call me Isangoma for it is what I am, but not 'Mister'." Harry looked as if he wanted to voice an apology, but Mzilikazi held up his hand. "There is no need to speak, Ingane. You are still weak."

Severus spoke up for his son, "Harry woke up complaining of pain." Severus looked on anxiously as Mzilikazi continued working with Harry.

"Harry? Is Harry okay?"

Severus was momentarily distracted by a frail, young female voice.

"Hermione!"

Apparently, Ronald had not been in as deep of a sleep as Severus had expected. Severus wasn't certain if the boy was awakened by Harry or Ms Granger. Judging from how Mr Weasley bounded from his chair to Ms Granger's side, Severus surmised the boy had deeper feelings for the girl than simple friendship, even if Mr Weasley wasn't yet aware of it himself.

Harry struggled to sit up in order to see his friend. "Hermione?"

Mzilikazi gently put his hands on Harry's shoulders. Even for the old man, it did not take much effort to hold the boy down.

"Relax, Harry," Severus said soothingly to his son from over the Isangoma's shoulder. "Your friends are safe and so are you."

Severus was going to say something to reassure the young lady as she was obviously still disoriented herself from Poppy's tranquilizers, but Mr Weasley was already whispering into her ear, effectively calming the girl better than Severus could.

"Do as your father says, Ingane," Mzilikazi said. "You still need your rest."

"We're alright, mate. Just worried about you s'all. Do what the doctor says so you can get out of here," Ronald spoke up from out of Harry's field of vision, holding tightly to Ms Granger's hand as one of Poppy's younger matrons checked the girl's vital signs. Ms Granger was sitting up and was obviously in much better condition than Harry.

Hearing his friend's voice, and knowing that they were truly okay, calmed Harry enough that his head finally gave in to his pillow. The Isangoma leaned close to Harry and asked the boy a series of questions, trying to discern where he was still hurting. Harry indicated that he was in pain all over. Severus felt as if his heart were squeezing the breath out of him. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to switch places with his son at that moment.

Poppy emerged from her office with a tray full of potions. She set the tray down on the side table and Mzilikazi instructed Harry to take them one by one. Harry's body relaxed as his pain eased. It was the first time the boy had looked truly at rest since the attack.

Behind him, Severus heard the doors to the hospital wing swing open. Albus strode is way in followed closely by Minerva and Lupin. The stress of the past twenty-four hours showed clearly on their faces but some of their worry-lines vanished when they saw that both Harry and Ms Granger were both awake.

"Mr Snape, Ms Granger. It is good to see you are both awake and hale," Albus said happily as he put a fatherly hand on Severus' shoulder.

Ms Granger answered in gratitude. Though still exhausted, Harry seemed determined of fight some of the narcotic effects of the potions.

"I don't understand? What happened? Why am I here?" Harry asked. He was barley coherent from the effects of the potions.

Severus fell silent, more from reluctance of having to repeat the story. than anything else. Mercifully, Albus took it upon himself to explain. "I am sorry to say, you were the target of a failed assassination attempt, Harry. Thankfully, you were brought here and administered treatment in time."

"Who was it this time?"

Severus felt that he could have died at that moment. Perhaps a part of him did. His son was so accustomed to being hunted, the boy barely voiced concern that someone had come so close to taking his life. What kind of life had Harry been living all of these years?

Lupin answered, "Harry, does it matter? You're safe now."

"You might as well tell him," Ronald said from his chair next to Granger. "If you don't, we will."

"Mr Weasley is right, Remus," Albus said. "I am sad to say, Harry, that your would-be assassin was Gregory Goyle."

Harry listened intently as Albus explained the events of the past day, the details he could not provide were filled in by Mr Weasley and Ms Granger.

After the headmaster and Harry's friends finished the story, Harry repeated thoughtfully, "So Goyle poisoned me with a quill laced with snake venom."

"Yes, Harry," Severus said as he took Harry's hand and gave it an assuring squeeze. "You have come through the worst of it, but you still need some time to finish your recovery."

Harry, nodded, seemingly accepting his fate. "And what happened to Goyle," he asked grimly. "Has he been arrested?"

Severus looked up at Dumbledore and his colleagues. Harry had to know, but Severus was afraid that he would sound too triumphant relaying the news.

It was Lupin who finally cleared his throat and gave a hesitant answer. "Well…Harry, apparently Mr Goyle's plan backfired and he fell victim to his own scheme. He was found dead yesterday."

There was a heavy silence in the room. Harry lay still on his pillow and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Severus wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what to say. He decided to wait for Harry to speak up.

The silence was interminable then Harry finally said blankly, "I don't know how to feel about this."

Severus sighed inwardly. He had a sinking feeling he knew what Harry was struggling with. "Harry, you don't have to feel anything about this. Gregory Goyle died from his own hand whilst plotting your murder. If you are angry or relieved, it is your right. It does not make you a bad person."

Harry did not look any more at ease when he asked, "Can we talk about this later?"

Severus gave a short nod. "Of course we can. You need to focus all of your energy on getting better." After another minute or two, Harry's body finally relaxed, and he peacefully fell back asleep.

Mzilikazi left his final instructions to Poppy and Severus, a list of potions and dos and don'ts to prevent Harry from developing pneumonia. Harry's lungs had been damaged in his ordeal and his respiration could easily be compromised again. But any problems Harry might encounter from that point on were well within the talents of the school matron and Severus to handle.

As promised, Ms Granger's parents had been contacted. As she was out of danger, her parents did not immediately rush to the school, but arrangements had been made for them to visit Hogwarts during the weekend. The gesture had gone a long way to improving Ms Granger's spirits.

Since she was doing so well, Ms Granger and Mr Weasley would both be released from the hospital wing after lunch. Not that they had any lessons to attend. Lessons had been cancelled whilst the teaching staff swept the school for anything else Goyle may have dropped. There was a real fear that the idiot may have left other tainted items lying about and the dungeons were under special scrutiny.

Severus' entire House had been temporally relocated to the East Tower while the search in the dungeons continued. The search of the Slytherin common room and dorms, along with the Potion's labs would need time and attention to detail that would require more than a single day's hunt. In the meantime the children needed a place to study away from distraction, not to mention a safe place to sleep.

Albus had searched Severus' private chambers like promised. He deemed them safe, just as Severus knew he would. At least Severus would have a safe place for Harry to continue his recuperation. Now Severus wondered exactly how he was going to manage his time.

Poppy was perfectly capable of tending to Harry in the hospital wing. But Severus didn't think it was safe enough. Not when his son was still vulnerable. But where would he find the time to take care of Harry and teach? It wasn't that Severus couldn't afford to take the time off. But he needed to have his eyes and ears alert and children where often the best source of information when it came to the comings and goings of their parents over the summer. Children where notoriously loosed-lipped and had little sense of self-preservation. Severus would essentially be blind and deaf to Voldemort's movements if he were holed up in his chambers all day.

"How is he?"

Severus jumped in his skin. If he wasn't so adept at controlling any spontaneous reaction, he would have jumped out of his chair. He forgot Lupin had stayed in the room after Albus and Minerva had taken their leave.

Severus knew he shouldn't allow himself to be so distracted by Harry's illness, but he also knew that it was something he couldn't help. But how could he protect Harry when someone as inoffensive as Lupin could so easily sneak up on him?

Severus answered Lupin with a glare. It obviously had some effect on the werewolf as Lupin had visibly squirmed. Normally, such a reaction from his former school rival would have elicited a satisfied smirk from Severus, but he was no longer interested in his past enmity with Remus Lupin. Severus had to admit quietly to himself, that Lupin honestly cared for Harry."

"He still needs a few days' rest, but he'll make a full recovery."

Lupin seemed a bit taken off-guard by Severus' civil answer, but recovered quickly enough. He nodded and said, "So I heard."

After a couple more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Lupin said, "I take it you'll be moving him to your chambers, then. You're going to need help watching over him. It's going to be rough on you."

"I'll manage."

"No you won't," Lupin replied. "You'll exhaust yourself Flooing back and forth between your classroom and your chambers every hour or two, and between time you'll be distracted with worry. You're going to need help…and…I…I think I have the solution."

There was another marked change in Lupin's demeanour. He seemed nervous and Severus couldn't fathom why.

Lupin began to fidget in his silence and Severus was growing truly suspicious. "What solution?"

Severus didn't see it as a good sign when Lupin took an obvious step back and crossed his arms protectively over his chest. "It seems to me that you are going to need a wizard who will put Harry's life over his own and is powerful enough to fight off any Death Eater that may come his way."

"True enough," Severus agreed, though he doubted any Death Eater could find their way into his chambers. "I appreciate the offer, Lupin, but you have your ow…"

"I wasn't talking about me, Severus."

A cold chill ran down Severus' spine, as if a rabbit just ran across his grave, when he realized exactly who Lupin was suggesting.

"No!"

Severus winced when he saw Harry stir in his sleep. He cast a silent Muffliato charm. Severus knew this could get loud and ugly quick. He stood up and took a threatening step towards Hogwarts' Dark Arts professor. Lupin took another step back and put his hand into the wand pocket of his tattered teaching robe.

"Severus, you haven't even heard what I was going to sa…" Lupin looked nervously over his shoulder, as if looking for help to arrive, but realized to his horror that Severus had backed him into a stone wall.

"I know exactly what you were going to say," Severus said menacingly. "I'll not have that mangy cur in my home. He'll break into my wine cabinet and leave fleas all over the furniture."

Severus knew his rant lost its menace with his last statement as Lupin began to chortle like a little girl. Severus took a step back as if Lupin's madness was contagious.

"I mean it, Lupin." Although his threatening performance was lost on Lupin, Severus had to make his point. "Black is mentally unstable. I couldn't possibly trust him with the responsibility of guarding Harry."

"Sirius isn't mentally unstable," Lupin countered. Now that Severus had stepped away, his bravado seemed to slowly return. "You would go mad too if you were trapped inside that depressing excuse for a house all day."

"Only to be trapped inside my even smaller chambers all day. Your argument is hardly convincing, Lupin."

Lupin took a step forward and emphasised, "But he'll have a sense of purpose, Severus. That man cares for Harry and his well-being every bit as much as you do…and for far longer, I might add. He'll die before he lets anything happen to Harry, and take a fair number of the enemy with him, if it came to it."

Lupin's words stung Severus to the quick, because his old nemesis was right. Black had cared for Harry longer than Severus had. For twelve years, Black had languished with worry in Azkaban for Harry's sake, whilst Severus tried with all his might to show his own son in a bad light to Albus Dumbledore. Severus was right all along about one thing. Harry's father was a swine.

The more he thought on it, the more he had to reluctantly admit that Lupin may be right.

"I'll make no promises other than I will think on it," Severus finally said. Right or not, he wasn't going to give into Lupin so easily.

"Perhaps we can all sit and talk about this with the headmaster tonight," Lupin suggested reasonably.

Severus nodded his agreement, but he didn't like it. It irked Severus to no end when Lupin refused to leave a point he could argue over.

"I've stayed away like you ordered, Albus. I don't understand why you won't let me see him now?"

Severus knew this was a bad idea. Why he even allowed Lupin to let him entertain the notion that Sirius Black would be an appropriate caregiver for Harry was beyond Severus' rational. He was beginning to think that Lupin had somehow slipped him a Buffudlement Draught.

It was late at night. Although Severus had lost track of time over the last couple of days, he knew it had to be after eleven o'clock. The headmaster had waited until the final lights-out before attempting to bring Black into the school.

Not that it mattered much, in Severus' thinking. The students had been confined to their common rooms all day. No one was wandering the castle. The common rooms would only open to staff. Students couldn't even sneak out until Dumbledore was certain the school was safe from the leftovers of Goyles' assassination attempt.

But here they all were, Severus, the headmaster, Lupin, Minerva, and of course, Sirius Black, sitting in Dumbledore's office and chatting as if it were tea time.

And of course, Black wanted to forego logic, not to mention proper manners, and wake up Harry in the middle of the night.

"Harry needs his rest, Sirius. I'm certain you understand why we cannot awaken him now," Albus said much too sympathetically in Severus' mind.

"I could have come before now," Black groused as he sipped on his Earl Grey. "No one would have recognized me."

"You're barking, Black," Severus sneered. His cup of tea remained untouched on the side table. He had no stomach for it. "The castle is crawling with Aurors. You might have been recognized."

"Then I don't see why you're complaining, Snape. You'd love nothing more than to see me captured."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. Of course he wouldn't," Lupin said from the dark corner he was hiding in. Severus was certain the werewolf was trying to keep a low profile, despite the fact that this entire debacle was his idea.

And Severus thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.

"Don't feed me that rubbish, Remus. Snape would feed me to the Dementors himself if it meant he could keep Harry to himself."

"Of course he wouldn't."

"Of course he would! Did you forget that he nearly did that exact thing almost a year and a half ago? He hasn't changed. Snape has always been a little prick."

"Snape is sitting right here," Severus said drily.

Black turned on Severus to retort, but Albus interrupted. "I must say, after twenty years, I think it is time that you two lay the past to rest if only for Harry's sake."

"I quite agree," Minerva chimed in. "This school boy rivalry became tiresome long ago. Stop acting like children and start behaving like adults."

Severus didn't see anything at all childish about his dislike for Black. He disliked him as a child, and now Severus disliked him as an adult. It was as simple as that. If anyone hadn't changed, it was Black.

Black leaned back in his chair, seething but quiet. The room was silent for what seemed an interminable time. "I'm his godfather, Albus. I just don't see why I can't see him when Snape has been with him the entire time."

Albus was quicker with the answer than Severus. "You forget, Severus is Harry's father."

"His father," Black scoffed. "Why a troll would make a better father to Harry than that berk ever would."

"Enough!" Severus erupted out of his chair. He was at his end. "I should have known better than to listen to your folly, Lupin! How can I possibly trust Black to care for Harry when we both know he'll try to turn my own son against me!"

The room descended into chaos as Severus tried to storm out of the room. Albus and Minerva were pleading with him to sit down whilst Lupin blocked Severus' way to the door. From behind him, Severus could here Black stammer, "W…What! What does he mean, 'take care of Harry!'"

Lupin had his hand on Severus' chest, refusing to let him out the door. He said too quietly for anyone else to hear, "Severus, please, for Harry's sake."

Severus' felt his immediate anger deflate like hot air from a leaking balloon.

Severus turned around to find Black standing and facing him. There was something desperate in Black's eyes. For the first time in his life, Severus empathised with the wizard. Plus, he could not deny the fact that Harry still loved his godfather.

"Is what Albus just told me true? You're going to let me take care of Harry during the day."

Black's eyes were pleading with Severus and it made Severus pity the man. He almost couldn't look at his old enemy.

Severus nodded and said, "I need someone to care for Harry during the day, but there are stipulations to be considered." Severus still thought this idea of Lupin's was sheer madness, but Severus was beginning to believe that he had no alternative.

"Anything!" Black said almost too enthusiastically. "Name your terms—I'll abide by them."

Albus invited Severus and Black to retake their chairs and for the next hour they discussed the rules Black was to follow if he were to take care of Harry in the castle. Black remained civil and agreed not to leave Severus' chambers, even in his Animagus form, without a proper escort. They arranged a way for Black to contact Severus if Harry should have problems.

Despite Lupin's and Albus' assurances, Severus felt no better after the meeting was over. Severus still didn't believe Black was a responsible adult. He could only hope that Black would prove him wrong.

As a consolatory gesture and to keep him from breaking into the hospital wing, before he left Severus agreed to let Black visit Harry under the supervision of himself and the headmaster, and of course only in disguise.

Severus watched closely as the massive, black dog sat on his haunches next to Harry and nuzzled its head into his boy's hand. Lupin stood beside Severus with a stupid grin on his face whilst Albus stood by the door to keep watch and afford some privacy.

Severus resisted the urge to forcefully yank the mutt away from his son. It had nearly come to that when Harry shifted in his bed of cracked open his eyes.

"Snuffles," the boy said sleepily as he ran his hand once through the course, dark fur.

Severus nearly choked as he asked, "Snuffles?"

"James gave him the nickname," Lupin explained. "It's a long story."

"I'm sure I don't want to know."

The dog whined and settled his head on Harry's chest. Harry smiled as he slipped back to sleep.

"Do you still think this is a bad idea, Severus?" Lupin asked quietly.

Without taking his eyes off Harry, Severus replied in resignation, "If the mutt pisses on my carpet, you're cleaning it up."

Lunch in the Great Hall was just winding down, but the majority of students still had not left. Owl posts were finally allowed in and out of the castle again and many of the outgoing posts from the morning were already receiving replies.

"Severus-it would seem as if you have become somewhat of a celebrity," Minerva mocked. Or at least Severus thought she did. Sometimes, it was hard to tell with the old cat. "I think you have more personal posts in that stack than I've ever seen you receive in all of your years here," she noted as she perused a letter from some unknown sender that Severus did not care to ask about.

Without even bothering to turn towards her, Severus' eyes cut a nasty glare at his colleague as he continued to check his posts for curses before touching them. Minerva was exaggerating, as always. He only had six letters; with the exception of two, all were from his former Death Eater colleagues.

It was the exception that caught his attention and made his heart jump. It was from the Ministry of Magic's Bureau of Vital Statistics. Severus eagerly opened the letter and schooled his features so not to look like a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

It was here. It only needed two signatures to become official.

They were both from the Ministry. The first was a letter that would officially change Harry's name from Harry James Potter to Harold Severus Snape once it was signed by himself and Harry. Severus thought hard on the name and what it meant. He knew it was the name chosen by Lily, but as Severus contemplated past events, he thought something was missing. After all, he was Harry's father. He should have a say in his son's name, too. Without a thought of regret for what he was about to do, Severus pulled a self-inking quill from inside the chest pocket of his robe. He quickly scratched one correction before carefully rolling up the parchment. He hoped Harry would approve. Severus was sure he would.

The second letter was a copy Harry's revised birth record, officially recognizing Severus Tobias Snape as Harry's father. Severus knew that somewhere in Heaven, Lily was very happy right now. Their son was now who he was born to be.

It was all Severus could do to keep from jumping up and rejoicing in front of everyone there in the Great Hall. However, the only outward sign of joy he showed was the smile that crept into his eyes.

"Good news, Severus?" Filius asked from Severus' right. Apparently Flitwick was the first to see his change in demeanour.

Severus cleared his throat before he answered. He did not want to sound like an overexcited teenager. "It is only Harry's revised birth record," he said as he carefully rolled the second parchment, at least managing to sound calmer than he actually felt.

"Only!" cried Minerva. "This calls for a celebration, Severus. Harry will be so pleased."

Severus shook his head. "I appreciate your show of support, as does Harry as well. But right now he is still in no shape for a party."

Severus rolled his eyes at Minerva's look of disappointment. "Rest assured we will quietly recognize the occasion."

Severus thought about the bottles of wine he had brought from his cellar at the manor. This was special enough to allow Harry his first glass of wine to toast the occasion. He had brought two of his best wines in anticipation of this very day. One was for himself and Harry, the other he would give to Albus to share with the faculty in private at a later time.

With only fifteen minutes left for lunch, Severus decided that there would not be enough time to go down to their chamber and properly give Harry the good news. Not if he was going to get to his temporary classroom on time. So he sighed his disappointment and opted to open one of the letters from his former colleagues.

The letter he opened was from Ian Nott.

Severus,

I have been meaning to contact you for several days now, but caution has stayed my hand. However, my son's recent post has given me reason to forgo my previous caution and I now reach out to you in desperation.

In light of recent events, it is evident where your loyalties lie and I do not fear retribution from revealing my own loyalties and fears to you.

Is it true? Does the Dark Lord expect us to sacrifice our children to him in order to further his own megalomaniacal agenda?

I have oft regretted the pledge of servitude I swore in my youth, never more so than I have in recent months. I had put the transgressions of my youth behind me and it was only with reluctance and fear for my family that I returned to the Dark Lord's side. But this I cannot abide.

He is my son, Severus. How can I possibly? The horror of the deed is too monstrous to even register in my thoughts. I am sure that you, as a father, understand this.

As of this moment, I pledge to you and your Order of the Phoenix my services and all that I have if you would only rid me of this Mark that has enslaved not only me, but my family, to this devil.

I beg of you, Severus. Help me save my Theodore.

My bond and my service are yours,

Ian

Severus hurriedly opened the other letters. He quickly read through each one; they were all along the same vein. Death Eaters were wanting out.

Severus looked over at his Slytherins and noticed an unusual occurrence. Not only were many of his students gathered together, but there were a few students from the other houses assembled with them, apparently all anxiously discussing letters from home. Severus did not fail to notice that they were all children of Death Eaters. Many of them looked up to him with unfeigned apprehension.

The time to take action was now. His celebratory toast with Harry would have to wait. Unfortunately, that meant Black would have to linger in his home all the longer, but sacrifices had to be made. Although Severus found Black's presence annoying, so far the Marauder had proven to be trustworthy.

Severus gathered his posts, forcing himself to do so without too much haste so not to draw too much attention. As Severus approached the headmaster, he silently cast a Muffliato spell so he would not be overheard. He still felt inclined to whisper when he leaned in and spoke to Albus. "You need to get hold of Lucius. We must meet with him-tonight."

Albus looked at him and silently nodded his understanding.

As he headed to his classroom, Severus pondered what Harry had mentioned before.

His son was right. By leaking information to the children, the news of Voldemort's treachery had made it back to their parents in record time.

The Death Eaters were ready to turn on their master.

"I really appreciate this, guys-you have no idea," Harry said as his eyes skimmed over Hermione's neat Charms notes. He was out of bed and sitting at the small writing desk in his room. His room was now blue and white with green trim. At least he wouldn't get headaches from the overdone burgundy and gold. Now his headaches would come from his enormous amount homework due to his OWL prep.

Ron and Hermione had joined him in his room. They sat at a small round table that Severus had brought in so Harry could study with his friends as a group during his recovery. "Well, luckily your dad gave Remus a Floo connection so we could get down here. They're still searching the dungeons to make sure that git Goyle didn't leave any other surprises. They should be done by the weekend," Ron said. Harry noticed a bit of astonishment still in Ron's eyes as he scanned the room. "You know, I have to admit this is sort of brilliant. I'd never guess it would look so normal. I thought Snape would make you decorate it in green and silver."

Harry wanted to laugh, but the mention of Goyle darkened his mood. Sure, he never got along with the Slytherin, but he never thought the overgrown buffoon would ever try to kill him. The thought that any classmate would go to such lengths made Harry nauseated.

"It's good to see you up and about so soon, Harry," Hermione said too cheerfully. She must have noticed Harry's change in mood. She added, "With any luck, you won't get behind."

Harry looked at his friend and couldn't help but feel guilty. Being friends with Harry Potter was becoming a dangerous proposition. First it was Cedric last spring and now, because of him, he almost lost Hermione. Well, he guessed that her life was never in any real danger, but it just as easily could have been. What if she or Ron had got hold of that quill?

"Hermione...how are you doing?" he asked hesitantly. Here he was convalescing at home, when she had been sick, too, and she was already back in classes. What if she relapsed?

"I'm fine, Harry," Hermione assured him. "It was only a little shock."

"But what if..."

He had been staring at his feet and hadn't even realized that Hermione was standing right next to him until he felt her comforting hand on his. "Honestly, Harry, I've never been better."

"I'm sorry you were hurt, Hermione. I'm sorry you had to see any of it; these sorts of things just seem to find me."

"Well, it's a good thing for you that we did see that sort of thing," Ron replied astutely. "I'd hate to think where we would be right now if we hadn't."

"We'd most likely be attending your funeral, Harry," Hermione added tensely. Harry could see her physically shiver at her own remark.

Harry's thoughts couldn't help but to momentarily drift back to Gregory Goyle. Was his family attending his funeral? Although the thick bastard tried to off him, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him at the same time. Harry was quite sure that Goyle would not have had the motivation to attempt such a half-cocked scheme on his own devices. The moron never did think for himself. Harry had no doubt that it was Mr Goyle who put is son up to it, trying to get to Harry and his dad from inside Hogwarts.

Harry wondered what would have happened if Mr Goyle knew that Harry and Severus were actually trying to protect his son. Would Goyle senior still have tried to secure his position in Voldemort's ranks? Exactly how fanatical was he? Would he have been willing to give up his only son and heir for his master? Somehow, Harry doubted that even of Mr Goyle.

"Do you think Malfoy told the others about the potion?" Harry wondered aloud.

"He had to have," Ron nodded. "You should have seen all the owls today. And the way some kids formed ranks around the Slytherin table? It's obvious something's up."

"I noticed Professor Snape received quite a few posts, too," Hermione said. "I wouldn't doubt that he is already hearing back from parents."

Harry swallowed hard. He knew that he would have a role to play soon. The idea of getting up close and personal with Death Eaters made him nervous, to say the least, but he had agreed with Dumbledore's plan to remove their Marks and it was too late to back out now. Not that Harry ever would. But it certainly wasn't a task he looked forward to. If it wasn't for the fact that kids were involved, Harry would leave those who gathered at the graveyard the night Cedric was murdered to their fates.

"He probably has," said Harry as his finger stroked the feather of his quill. He found a strange fascination with how the barbicels reminded him of zippers. "How do you suppose he's going to set up our meetings with the Death Eaters?"

Ron and Hermione were both eerily quiet. Ron finally answered slowly, "That's sure to be a tricky one, mate. Obviously you can't meet here and, wherever you go, you'd have to make bloody sure you aren't recognized."

"Polyjuice, most likely," Hermione offered.

"But Dad said Polyjuice was too dangerous," Harry reminded her.

"It is if you use it long-term at our age," Hermione said academically. "You can't use it to permanently hide your appearance as Barty Crouch did last year. But you can certainly use it on occasion."

"People-let's not talk about this for now," Ron balked. "Harry, just let your dad and Professor Dumbledore work out the details. We have Transfiguration to worry about."

Harry and Hermione both raised their eyebrows at Ron. If Ron wanted to study, then the topic Death Eaters was becoming tiring, and Harry had to agree. The thought of Ron wanting to study made Harry grin for some inexplicable reason and Harry happily turned his thoughts back to his studies.

"I suppose if we don't get cracking you still might attend my funeral," Harry said with an impish grin. "Dad laid into me about last year's History and Divination grades and he wasn't even Dad last year."

The three friends basked in the mundaneness of their homework and studied in companionable silence for the next hour and a half, with only the occasional interruption to have Hermione explain the finer points of some theory or another. Their studies were interrupted by a soft rap on the door. Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, looked up. Harry noticed the clock on his bedside table. It was almost six o'clock and he figured it was his father coming to invite them to dinner.

"Ron-Hermione? Would you like to join Harry and me for dinner?" Harry was bewildered to see that it was Sirius at the door and not his father.

"Sure."

"Thank you," Ron and Hermione voiced simultaneously.

"Where's my dad?" Harry asked. "He should have been home over an hour ago."

"He sent a message with a house-elf a while ago. He said to let you know that he'd be home late and he'd talk to you then," Sirius explained. "I didn't want to disturb your studying."

As much as Harry had enjoyed Sirius' company, he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed that his dad wasn't home yet. It felt a little weird, caring so much for Snape after all of these years.

Harry was also a little annoyed that Sirius had not given him the message earlier. But it didn't sound like it was anything that would put his father in peril of life or limb, so Harry chose to let it pass. He didn't want to hurt Sirius' feelings by commenting on his thoughtlessness. The day had been quiet of drama and Harry wanted to keep it that way, so he simply asked, "What's for dinner?" as he gingerly made his way up from his chair.

"Curry," Sirius replied with a smile. "Do you need help?" he quickly added when he saw Harry moving so slowly.

Ron offered a helping hand to Harry, but he good-naturedly waved his best mate off. "No. I'm feeling a lot better, thanks," he said honestly. "I just need to take it slow."

Harry and his friends followed Sirius into the kitchen. Ron and Hermione flanked him and, though they weren't hanging on his shoulders, Harry was glad to know they were close enough to be there if he had the need.

As they approached the kitchen together, Harry stopped in his tracks. Ron and Hermione both looked at him quizzically.

The concern was plastered on Hermione's face. "Harry, is something the matter?"

Harry stared at the dining table. A familiar bottle of wine was opened on the table. Even from across the room he recognised the distinctive label. Harry quickly looked to the wine cabinet in hope that he was somehow mistaken and Sirius coincidently had brought a similar bottle from home. But Harry noticed the wine cabinet open and the contents tampered with.

His chest tightened with disappointment at his godfather and he began to breathe heavier. His father was not going to like this. Ron grabbed his arm, though Harry honestly did not need the help.

Sirius had turned back when Hermione had voiced her concern. Sirius' alarm was evident when he rushed towards Harry and knelt down before him. He ran his hand over Harry's forehead and carded his fingers through Harry's hair, obviously looking for signs of fever or distress. "Harry, are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Sirius," Harry said through clenched teeth, "did you open a bottle of wine?" He knew the answer. The evidence was sitting on the dining table.

"Just one of the...Muggle...bottles," Sirius said with uncertainty. "Snape didn't seem to mind the last bottle and I thought this one would be the least missed. I only had one glass. I was just getting ready to put it away."

"Did you even think to ask?!" By the time Harry reached the last word, he felt his control slip. Everything on the table started to shake violently.

"Harry," Hermione said through barely contained panic as she watched the dishes quiver, Ron watching in stunned disbelief. "Calm yourself. You're still weak. You're having a hard time controlling your magic."

"Harry...I didn't think it matt..." Sirius, Ron, and Hermione all ducked as a pitcher of pumpkin juice whizzed over Sirius' head and shattered on the stone wall to the side of them. It narrowly missed Harry and his friends, but Harry never flinched.

Ron cautiously arose first, looking about the room for other flying dinnerware. "Ha...Harry, listen to Hermione. You really need to calm down, mate."

"Calm down? Calm down! Do you know what he just did?"

Sirius arose slowly, too, covering his head, looking at the bottle of wine that had miraculously not spilled. "I'm sorry...If it's about the wine, I'll replace it, alright?"

Harry was so angry he could hardly force himself to speak. "Sirius...you...you can't just replace that wine! According to Dad it's very rare and really expensive. I think he had it planned for something."

"It'll be okay, Harry. I'll find some way to replace it...I promise. How much did it cost?"

Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow, hoping it was intimidating as his dad's. "Fifteen hundred Pounds, Muggle," Harry answered with a sneer.

Hermione gasped. Ron and Sirius looked confused.

"Is that expensive?" Sirius looked to Hermione for help.

"That's somewhere around 300 Galleons, Sirius," Hermione said with a half-apologetic, half-anguished look on her face.

"Three hundred Galleons?!" Ron exclaimed as Sirius sat hard in one of the chairs.

"Snape'll kill me," Sirius said numbly, holding his head in his hand. "I'll replace it Harry...really. I still have access to my vaults. The Goblins don't ca... "

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE FUCKING WINE, SIRIUS!"

Sirius' head snapped up and Ron and Hermione nearly jumped out of their feet at Harry's sudden outburst.

Harry limped his way to the dining table. He did not bother to sit down; instead he grabbed the edge to hold himself up and pointed an accusing finger at his godfather. "If Dad had been any other wizard in the world, you would have never done something this."

Sirius jaw dropped and his mouth gapped like a fish for a moment as he apparently struggled to say something in his own defence. "That's...that's not true, Harry. I..."

"You're what-this rude to all of your hosts?" Harry asked venomously.

Harry had been afraid something like this would happen. His dad had been trying hard to work through his past with the Marauders, as in inviting Harry's godfather to look after him. Harry knew it must have been hard on Severus. Sometimes, it seemed as if Sirius was trying, too, but then he goes and says or does something stupid. Wasn't it Sirius who told him that he and James had pretended to stop pranking Severus in seventh year, but did so behind his mum's back, anyway? Was Sirius pretending to try now just to get close to Harry, as James did his mum?

Harry turned his face away from his godfather, ashamed to even look at him. "After over twenty years of fighting, he's still 'Snivellus Snape' to you, isn't he? Not worthy to breathe the same air as you. Why would you ever find a reason to respect the man's personal property in his own home?"

"Harry...it's not like that," Sirius tried to say, but Harry didn't want to hear it.

"You wanna know what's funny?" Harry asked with a mirthless laugh. "I know my dad hates you, too. He won't admit it, but he does. But he is honestly trying to get along with you because he loves me, and he wants to make it right by me despite his personal feelings."

"I'm trying to do the same thing, too, Harry," Sirius said meekly.

"By pulling a stunt like this? You stole from a man who invited you into his house!" Harry said furiously. "Can't you let go of the past?"

"That wasn't my intention." Sirius shut his eyes and sighed hard. "It's hard, Harry. You don't understand. There's a lot of bad blood between me and Snape."

"Of course there is. Look at how you treated him."

Now Sirius had shed his contrite posture to more vigorously defend himself. "Now, look here, Harry, I don't know what line Snape has fed you, but he wasn't an innocent victim."

"Because he wouldn't let himself be a victim," Harry countered. "I know my dad put his fair share of hexes on your lot. He's proud. He would never let the likes of you and James Potter get the best of him if he could help it." Sirius winced as Harry said 'James Potter'; he always did. "I'd bet every Galleon I have he would have never at lifted his wand at you if you would have only left him alone."

"But...Harry, he was a Death Eater," Sirius said lamely. Obviously the topic was wearing on him, but Harry didn't care. Calling his dad a Death Eater was the final straw.

"Bullshit!" Harry spat. "That wasn't until later and you know bloody well he was a spy. You were all in the Order. Even James Potter had sense to see that."

Harry saw Sirius squirm once again. "JAMES POTTER, JAMES POTTER, JAMES POTTER!" he screamed, making Sirius jump in his chair and Ron and Hermione, whom he had almost forgotten were there, wince and retreat to the sitting room.

Harry sighed again and gathered his thoughts. Remembering the relaxation tactics his father had taught him, he finally calmed himself.

"James Potter was not my dad, Sirius, but he turned out to be a good man. And I appreciate what he did for me and Mum. I just only wish he were here for me to thank him. He protected us even though he knew I wasn't his son and that Mum still loved my real dad. He even tried to talk my mum into telling him about me. He didn't take advantage of Mum, when he very easily could have, in her situation. He rose above his hate for one man in order to do right by someone he loved. He was your best friend. Why you can't do the same?"

Sirius looked small and dejected sitting in the chair. Harry slumped his shoulders. His energy was spent. "Ron...can you take me back to my room? I'm not very hungry anymore."

Ron let Harry lean on him as he led Harry back to his room. Sirius laid his head on the table. He was such an idiot.

"He's wrong, you know."

Sirius looked up to see Hermione sitting across from him, reaching out her hand to offer him comfort.

He shook his head in shame. "I don't think he's too far off. I try to convince myself I'm trying to make amends for Harry's sake, but I don't really want to."

"You don't really believe that. Do you?" Hermione asked.

Sirius leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know," he admitted with anguish. "But I do know I am jealous. I think Harry's right when he said I would have asked if I was in any other wizard's home. I still can't picture Snape as...normal."

"Well, if you don't start thinking differently, you're going to have a problem," Hermione warned.

"I'm at a loss. I don't know what to do," Sirius confessed.

Hermione leaned across the table and looked at Sirius purposefully. "Well-first, you need replace that bottle of wine. I know Harry said he didn't care, but he does. And I definitely know Professor Snape will."

Sirius nodded his agreement. Harry might have said that it wasn't about the wine, but it was. To Harry, that open bottle of wine was a symbol of Sirius' lack of respect for his father. There. Sirius thought it. In his mind he thought of Snape as Harry's father. That was a start, wasn't it?

"What Harry didn't even bother to mention," Sirius said wearily, "is even if I managed to clear my name for murder, Snape could have me thrown right back into Azkaban for theft. I don't even know where to start looking for a bottle of wine like that."

"Oh, that's easy enough," said Hermione hopefully. "I'll owl my parents."

"Your parents drink that kind of wine?"

"Heavens no!" she cried. "My parents may be affluent, but they could never afford that sort of extravagance. I mean I'll have them locate some on the Internet. If there's anything like it out there, they will find it. They live in Havering. Maybe Professor Lupin can pick it up. With express delivery, they can have it in a couple of days. There might even be someplace in London that carries it." Hermione accioed her quill and some parchment from Harry's room and began to write. One thing to be said about Hermione Granger-she never procrastinated over anything.

Sirius decided it was time for some soul searching. It was going to take a lot more than a fancy bottle of wine to make this up to Harry and to Sni...Snape. But a thought had occurred to him.

"Hermione-write your parents that I need something else. Expense be damned."

In a bright flurry of periwinkle blue robes that was entirely out of place in such a dark and dreary establishment, Albus Dumbledore strode into the Hogs Head pub and up to the bar.

The grumpy barkeep with a scraggly white beard and familiar blue eyes silently handed Albus a glass of port and stalked off, mumbling beneath his breath. There were only three other patrons in the pub and the two sitting at a table in a dark corner only gave him a cursory glance before going back to their conversation.

"Where's your ‘father'?" Albus asked the lone, tall, lanky redhead standing at the bar.

‘Bill Weasley' turned and gave Albus gave a curious smirk that didn't look quite right on a young man's face. "Dad is upstairs. He had a row with Mum and he's a bit off his face," he said a little too loudly for the near-empty pub. "I brought him here to clear his head. Too many nosey-parkers at the Broomsticks."

"Well, let's go upstairs and see if we can't help him sober him up, shall we?

A gruff, disembodied voice from behind the bar said, "I'll send up a pot."

Albus smiled and finished off his port as Bill his downed his firewhisky. Together they made their way upstairs.

They entered the third room on the first floor. As soon as they shut the door behind them, they warded it against any other ‘nosey-parkers' that might happen their way upstairs. Inside the room sat an uncharacteristically surly Arthur Weasley, nursing a glass of wine in front of the fireplace. "Is all of this artifice really necessary?" 'Arthur' griped.

"That is the definition of spying-isn't it, Dad." 'Bill' said derisively.

"Oh, do shut up, Severus!" ‘Arthur' spat.

"Come now, gentlemen," Albus said with a light chuckle, "we have important business to discuss."

"Did you stick to the cover story?" Severus asked Lucius.

Lucius, also known as Arthur Weasley, sighed. "I would have if there was anyone in this hovel to tell."

"And that story is...?" Severus prompted.

Lucius, with Weasley's face, rolled his eyes. "I had an argument with my wife and needed to get out for the night. You took care of the rest. "

He turned in his chair and shot Severus a hot glare. "Could you not have chosen someone with a little more refinement than Weasley?" he asked in his most all-suffering voice.

"Ah-Slytherin though you are Lucius, you have yet to learn the intrinsic subtleties of the fine art of subterfuge," Albus said patronizingly. He looked over his half-moon glasses and said more grimly, "And Death Eaters don't generally have a reputation for subtly."

Severus thought Albus' comment was a bit ironic considering the wizard looked as though he was trying to blend into the background of an RHS show rather than a rundown pub.

"But Weasley?"  Lucius protested.

Albus pointed out, "Isn't obvious you would have never chosen to disguise yourself as Arthur Weasley on your own accord? Who amongst your compatriots would ever suspect that you would hide yourself in such a manner?"

"You do have a point," Lucius sulked as he sank into the back of his chair. "It still doesn't make the situation any less repugnant."

Bill-or rather, Severus-sighed heavily and said, "Stop your incessant grousing, Lucius, and let us get to the matter at hand." A scroll popped into Severus' hand from out of thin air and he handed it to Lucius. "This is a list of Death Eaters who have thus far expressed interest in leaving Vol...the Dark Lord's service." Severus corrected himself, remembering that Lucius was still Marked and therefore still subject to the pain of the Taboo.

"So many for one day," Arthur's voice noted with quiet awe. In all, Severus had received almost two dozen owls that afternoon. "After being absent for nearly fourteen years, it seems the Dark Lord has overplayed his hand too quickly after re-entering the game."

"It would seem so," Albus agreed. "I need you to listen carefully, Lucius, because it is imperative that you make direct contact with these dissenters without revealing yourself."

"And how exactly do I do that?" Lucius asked. "These are Death Eaters we're talking about. They aren't going to trust the word of any random wizard off the street."

"That is exactly why you need to listen carefully," Albus answered as his eyes smiled over his half-moon glasses.

For the next thirty minutes Severus and Lucius listened with scepticism and near disbelief at Albus' elaborate plan to contact the turncoat Death Eaters. Personally, Severus wondered if Albus had been reading too many Ian Fleming novels but, the more he thought on it, anything Severus could think of bordered on suicide rather than Albus' lunacy. And with Harry's involvement, suicide was not the option it had been in the past.  The complexity of the plan reminded Severus of something hatched by Heath Robinson; unfortunately, there was no absurdly simple way to speak to a Death Eater about defection on the sly.

After Albus explained the plan, the room fell silent for what to Severus seemed like minutes as he and Lucius absorbed the danger of their missions. With all of his being, Severus wanted to keep Harry as far away from Albus' madness as he could, but without Harry, in the end, there was no way the children would survive. As soon as he got home, Severus was determined to take a stomach draught. With the thought of putting Harry in more danger, it was all Severus could do to keep his insides from upending.

Albus broke the silence when he casually asked Lucius, "Now... how are matters with Riddle?"

Lucius audibly swallowed a gulp of air when he admitted, "I have never known the Dark Lord to be so apprehensive. He is actively looking for a new Potions Master whilst simultaneously trying to devise a way to reach Severus and his son. Where Horace Slughorn and Damocles Belby have gone into hiding... only Merlin knows. Death Eaters are having a hell of a time finding them. You can only imagine how the Dark Lord is taking the news. He is desperate to have a Potions Master by the holidays. He believes that once the children have left the protection of Hogwarts, their parents will be free to present them for their 'initiation'." ‘Arthur Weasley's' face had turned a pale shade of green by the time he uttered ‘initiation'.

Severus was aware that Albus knew exactly where Damocles was hiding. The Order was hiding Belby, and Albus was the Secret Keeper, but neither was about to divulge that bit of information to Lucius. As far as Slughorn was concerned... the Order was having just as hard a time locating the barmy old wizard as the Death Eaters were.

"Any idea as to how the Dark Lord intends on getting to me and Harry?" asked Severus. He did manage to keep the desperation out of his tone.

"Not exactly, but he still perceives your son as the weak link," Lucius said with obvious irony.

Severus supressed a smirk. The Dark Lord called Harry weak, but he wouldn't be going through all of this trouble if he did not fear Harry in some way.

"He is aware of your son's past proclivity when it comes to bending the rules," Lucius continued. "He has Death Eaters here in Hogsmeade, as well as Diagon Alley and Surrey, waiting for P... Harry to show his face. You must take care, Severus, when you do bring your son out from the protection of Hogwarts' wards. The Dark Lord has minions everywhere in the Wizarding world. They will be watching and waiting for him."

Albus asked worriedly, "Why does Riddle have watchers in Surrey?"

Lucius casually brushed a piece of ash from the fire off his robe. "It seems that whatever wards you had erected to protect Harry's Muggle relations may be slowly dismantling. The Dark Lord has narrowed their location to a bland village called Little Whinging, but he has, as of yet, failed to find their residence."

"Riddle may believe that Harry will try to save the Dursleys if he believes they're in danger," Albus said. "I will contact Alastor and Kingsley to see what we can do about moving them to safety. In the meantime, Severus, do not tell Harry. I know there is no love lost between Harry and the Dursleys, but he may still attempt something foolish."

Severus simply nodded his agreement. Albus was right. Harry would have some sort of misplaced guilt if something were to happen to Petunia's family. Otherwise, Severus would happily gift wrap the Dursleys for Voldemort.

'Bill Weasley's' eyes narrowed as he spoke to Albus. "Trust me... I have no intention of allowing Harry within ten kilometres of those swine."

‘Mr Weasley's' ginger eyebrows rose. On his face were Lucius' unasked questions, and Severus silently cursed himself. He would continue this conversation with Albus at another time. The Dursleys were not a subject he wanted to discuss in front of Lucius. "Hide them where you will, Albus. I couldn't care less." Severus would simply have to visit before Albus put them in hiding.

"Keep your son close, Severus," Lucius warned. "Although the Dark Lord's support from his followers may be waning, there are still those who will stop at nothing to serve him. And until the others have their Marks removed, they are still subject to his influence."

"I am fully aware of the dangers, Lucius, and I know what the Dark Lord and his followers are capable of," Severus said bitterly.

Lucius shook his head. "It was not my intention to patronize you." He then sighed. "It's hard enough for me, knowing the danger my own son is in. I cannot begin fathom what you must be going through. I only wish... Harry... did not have to be so closely involved. I'm sorry it has come to this."

Severus was grateful that Lucius was at least trying to understand. He answered darkly, "The Dark Lord made up his mind to involve Harry fourteen years ago. Unfortunately, his world revolves around my son. Fate has dealt us our hands and we are forced to play them out."

Lucius bowed his head. Severus wondered if the look on ‘Arthur Weasley's' face was actually shame. "Severus... I... I haven't yet apologized for Draco's role in what happened to your son."

A part of Severus told him that he should say that there was no need for Lucius' apology, but that wasn't true. He remained silent. He needed to hear what Lucius had to say about what happened to Harry.  

"I never thought the boy capable of such foolishness," Lucius continued. "Unfortunately, for reasons we are both aware of, I cannot call him home to punish him; you have my leave to punish him however you see fit."

Lucius giving Severus permission to punish Draco however he saw fit was a massive admission of guilt-and trust. Lucius would only do so if he truly regretted what had happened.

Severus bowed his own head this time. A part of him wanted to throw Lucius' apology back in his face, but he couldn't. He nodded and accepted Lucius' apology

Lucius then turned to Albus. "Headmaster, I know what Draco has done is punishable by expulsion, and I have no right to ask you for mercy... but for the child's sake would you consider..."

Albus raised his hand before Lucius could finish. "There will be no expulsion hearing, Lucius." Lucius looked stunned at the revelation.

"There is no proof that Draco had possession of the mamba venom. It was literally found in the hands of Mr Goyle. Also, Draco had no ill intent for its use. Fortunately, the Board of Governors remain ignorant of his confession, otherwise the matter would be out of my hands," Albus explained. "However, he still must be punished for bringing a dangerous substance into the school. I have quietly put him on permanent probation. If he steps out of line again, he will go up before the Board. He has also been banned from Quidditch for the duration of his tenure at Hogwarts. Officially, he is quitting of his own accord."

Lucius' relief was palpable. "Draco will be disappointed, but he will get over it. You are truly merciful. Thank you, Headmaster." To Severus' astonishment, Lucius' tone was actually sincere.

Albus patted Lucius on the knee as he arose from his chair. "So I've been told on several occasions. I'm actually beginning to believe it."  He added, "I suggest you gentlemen take your Polyjuice again; it is almost time."

The headmaster straightened his robes and said, "Do be careful, Lucius-you know how to contact me should there be any problem."

It was late. Severus felt rather numb as he stepped from the Floo and into his quarters. After the headmaster had left and before Severus had made his own exit, Lucius had pulled him aside and asked another favour. Lucius had asked Severus to watch over Draco if something should go terribly wrong. Severus accepted, though, in retrospect, he didn't know why. Perhaps temporary lunacy was a previously undiscovered side-effect of Polyjuice. That made perfect sense, since Lucius vowed to do the same for Severus. Severus decided that more research into the phenomenon was definitely in order.

Once his eyes adjusted, Severus' first sight was Sirius Black, stretched out across his couch and snoring loudly.

A devious little voice inside Severus' head thought he should wake the cur with a nicely chilled Aguamenti spell. He had not intended for Black to camp out in his sitting room, but the mutt had to watch Harry at least one more day. It was easier to let him remain, rather than have to fetch him from Headquarters in the morning.

Moving quietly so not to awaken his unwanted guest, Severus made his way down the hall to Harry's room. He opened the door and noiselessly approached Harry's bed. Harry was sleeping soundly, but Severus noticed a slight crease between the boy's eyes. It was so much like his own when he was troubled. Unfortunately, over the years, Severus' crease had become permanent.

Severus was reluctant to wake Harry, but he figured the good news he had been keeping all day might relieve some of the boy's worries, so he gently shook Harry's shoulder.

"Harry?" he said softly.

Harry only moaned and turned his head. The boy obviously did not want to be roused from his sleep.

"Harry," Severus said a little louder. "Wake up, son."

Harry turned towards Severus after the second try and slowly opened one eye. "Huh? Oh... Dad," the boy said groggily as he reached for his glasses. "Whatizitdad?"

Severus scoffed at his son's momentary lapse of verbal skills. "Nothing is the matter, Harry." Severus could hear his own smile. "I have something I think you'll want to see."

Harry positioned himself straighter in his bed. There was a look on his face. He was obviously curious as to what his father wanted him to see that couldn't possibly wait until morning. Severus produced a Lumos at the tip of his wand.

"What is it, Dad?" he finally managed to articulate as Severus unrolled the parchment.

"Why don't you have a look for yourself?" he said as he proudly handed the parchment to Harry.

Harry took the parchment in hand but, instead of reading it, he kept looking at Severus strangely.  "What's with the stupid grin?" Severus wasn't sure if the boy's tone was cheek or confusion.

Severus felt his face pinch with annoyance. He tapped his finger to the document. "Will you stop staring at me like a potions experiment gone wrong and read the bloody parchment?"

"There's the Severus Snape I've come to know and love," Harry teased as he turned to read the parchment.

Harry whispered the words on the parchment: "'Harold James Severus Snape son of Severus Tobias Snape and Lily Abigail Evans'... You changed my name?"

Severus swallowed hard. He felt as if he were choking on his own air. "I thought you wanted to be a Snape?"

"Oh no! It's not that!" Harry said hurriedly. "It's just... that's not what Mum named me."

Severus breathed a bit easier. "No, but you've been Harry James all of your life, and I thought you might like to keep the familiarity of your name. Plus..." This was the part Severus had a hard time admitting. "As your father, I thought it... appropriate... to honour the man who sacrificed his life for yours."

"You did?" Harry turned his attention back to the document in stunned disbelief. His mouth silently repeated the words ‘Harold James Severus Snape' over and over again. The more Harry read, the bigger his smile became. He finally turned to Severus and said, "I like it. I think it's a good idea, too."

Harry dropped the parchment and flung himself at Severus and, to Severus' own amazement, he returned the embrace with no hesitation.

"We're a family, Dad... a real family," Harry said through sobs.

"Harry, are you crying?"

Harry sniffed and, before the boy could wipe his nose on his sleeve, Severus retrieved a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the boy.

"M'sorry," Harry said through his sniffles. "It's just... I've always wanted this... my whole life, it's all I've ever wanted."

Now Severus was confused. What did Harry want all his life? Up until a couple of months ago, he had hated Severus. "I don't understand, Harry? What is it you've always wanted?"

"To belong to someone. To be like my friends and have at least one parent to call my own. I've been alone all of my life... now here you are."

This time, it was Severus who embraced his son. He, too, had been alone most of his life.  To belong to a family of his own was a dream that had died along with Lily, and now that dream had resurrected and come to life through their son. "Here you are," was all Severus could think to say.

It was the last day Prince Manor would ever exist and the house-elves had outdone themselves.

Harry informed Severus that he wanted a full blown fête with his friends. Severus had not been keen on the idea; he wanted a private celebration with his son. But Severus had to admit, Petunia had never even thrown Harry the simplest birthday party. Given that Severus had not wanted any guests, he left the guest list and venue up to Harry.

Harry had chosen to have his party at Prince Manor. He reasoned that, since it was his ancestral home, no place else would be appropriate. Severus had acquiesced, conceding to himself that this was one of those precious memories he wanted to give his son.

It was Sunday. The party was being held outside by the gardens. It was a perfect late summer day and the garden was still in full bloom. The water lilies floated ethereally within the reflecting pond. The lavender heather, azure caryopteris, the woody nightshade and red hot pokers carpeted the grounds and fragranced the air.

Most of the guests would not arrive until later. Only the Weasleys, Ms Granger, Lupin and Black were there at present. They were still expecting the Longbottoms as well as the other Heads-of-House, the headmaster and a few Order members. Mzilikazi had been invited, but Dumbledore said he was involved with a crisis amongst his own people at present.

At the moment, Harry was inside with the Weasleys, knocking around billiard balls. They had not yet learned to play, but they were fascinated with Severus' game room nonetheless.

Severus and Remus were outside, standing under one of the white buffet tents.

"Don't you think he's learned his lesson, Severus," Remus said through a supressed chuckle.

The two wizards stood before an elaborate fruit and cheese table. Remus gawked at a particularly lovely bunch of plump pinot noir grapes. A square oak box sat on the table, oddly out of place.

"Don't spoil it for me, Lupin," said Severus with a sly grin. "Just as I've finally begun to enjoy myself. Think of what Minerva will have to say when she sees this."

"I must admit, she'll be highly impressed." Remus nodded knowingly as he continued to smile. "But the rest of your guests will be arriving soon. As much as he deserves to sweat out the party, there's still the potential for something ugly to happen."

Severus rolled his eyes and took out his wand. "You know how to ruin a man's fun-don't you, Lupin"

"Sirius has told me the same thing once or twice himself."

Severus snarled, "Don't compare me to Black."

Severus waved his wand at the fruit and the once indigo-coloured grapes were gone and Sirius Black was now crouched in their place. He fell backwards off of the table, taking the majority of the display with him. "Wh...wh...WHOA!"

Lupin bent over, clutching his sides in the midst of a full blown gut-buster. Severus' mouth and eyes twitched uncontrollably in a desperate effort to keep from rolling over in laughter himself.

Severus had found out about the wine the day before. Harry had told him what happened. To say that Severus had been livid with Black was like saying Voldemort was miffed with him and Harry.

"Snape... I'm really sorry." Sirius cautiously rose up from the other side of the table. He was covered in smashed fruit and had his hands in the air just like a Muggle criminal who just got caught in the act of committing the crime.

The only effect the apology had on Severus was to stoke his anger again. "I know your family is insane from inbreeding, Black... But surely even your certifiable mother must have told you that it is iniquitous to take that which is not yours."

Remus watched over the exchange as if it were a Muggle tennis match.

"I've replaced the wine... It's in the box... I promise."

Severus eyed the box. It was too large for a single bottle of wine. "I doubt that very seriously, Black." Severus' unintended pun made him angrier. "That was a very rare vintage. You don't have the intelligence to track it down. Even the best elf-made wine couldn't replace it."

"Luckily, Harry has smart friends," Black said. "Just open the box... please," he pleaded. Black pointed at the box, afraid to come out from behind the relative safety of the table.

Severus shoved his wand up his sleeve and went over to the table, curious as to what Black could possibly consider compensation. He carefully picked up the box as if it contained one of the Weasley twins' elaborate pranks, or worse yet-one of Black's.

Black slowly made his way from around the table as Severus opened the box, half expecting bubotuber pus to explode in his face. What greeted Severus when he opened the box had him stunned with disbelief.

"How did you..."

"I have to thank Hermione for this little miracle," Black admitted. "Apparently the Muggles have some kind of oracle named Inner Net. Hell of a lot more all-knowing than that 'Inner Eye' that wacked-out Divinations teacher is always getting on about."

Severus looked at the bottles in the box. The first was a 1942 La Tâche. As extraordinary as that bottle was, it was not what had rendered Severus speechless at the moment. Replacing the bottle of wine was the least Black could do, though it would not have forgiven the initial insult. The second bottle was another matter altogether.

The second bottle was not just any wine. It was a bottle of Clos de la Roche... 1980. The year Harry was born.

"I hope it is as good as it they claim it is... I requested the best wine for that year."

"Sirius... this is extraordinary," Remus said, obviously as impressed with his friend's gesture as Severus was.

Severus shook his head as he took the bottle out of the case to have a closer look at it. "I don't understand why..."

"This..." said Black, indicating the bottle, "is my apology to you-and not just for invading your liquor cabinet. It's for everything... It's my peace offering."

For once in his life Severus Snape did not know what to say, but it seemed as though Black did. "Harry was right, you know...It was me and James that initiated this whole mess. We never gave you a chance."

"Don't play martyr, Black... I'm not entirely innocent in all of this." After all, Severus had thrown his share of unsolicited hexes at the Marauders in his day. And just now he'd transfigured the man into a bunch of grapes, although that was justified, in Severus' opinion.

"It's not just for the past... I'm ashamed of myself." Severus and Remus looked at each other and then again at Black. Severus wasn't sure what the man was trying to say.

Black explained, "I've been incredibly jealous of late. When I first heard that you were Harry's father, you could understand my disbelief. Then when I finally came to accept it, I thought for sure you would try to turn Harry against me and James."

"As tempting as it was to do so, Harry would have been unhappy if I denied him your company. In the end Harry, would have resented me for it," Severus said.

"That's just it! If situations had been reversed, I would have stooped that low," Black admitted. "Hell, I did. The worst part about it was, I was hoping that you would make Harry miserable. How sick is that?" Severus could hear the honest self-disgust in Black's voice.

"But I'm not apologizing for Harry's sake. I'm apologizing because I owe it to you... and it's long overdue."

Although Severus was overcome-after all, he had been waiting over twenty years for an apology-he managed to keep himself impassive... barely. "Black... I don't know what to say."

As if he were feeding him lines in a play, Remus leaned in and whispered to Severus. "The appropriate thing to say here would be 'apology accepted'."

Severus leaned back and whispered, "And what if I don't accept his apology?"

Severus was aghast when Remus actually shoved him towards Black and said, "Oh, do get on with it, already!"

Severus regained his footing as he gave one last contemptuous glare towards Remus before grudgingly turning to Black. He swallowed and said, "Apology accepted."

Black grinned widely like a Cheshire cat and exclaimed, "Great!" He threw out his hand to Severus. "The name's Sirius, by the way, and this is my friend Remus."

Severus was hesitant at first, but reluctantly accepted the handshake and said, "Severus... It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance... Sirius."

Harry stood, staring out the window of the billiard room. It faced the front of the manor and Harry could see the gardens and the greenhouses that were only about fifty meters away from the main house. Unfortunately, the tents were obscured by a wall of ivy.

Harry was a bit worried. He had been so angry with Sirius, he was hesitant to invite his godfather to the celebration. What was so concerning was his father had insisted on inviting Sirius after he had found out about the wine. Yesterday, Harry didn't want anything to do with his godfather. Now Harry couldn't help but be worried for him.

"What do you think they're doing down there?" Harry asked of no one in particular.

Harry looked to find Ron standing next to him. "How angry was your dad?"

"Honestly, I can't remember when I last saw him so angry," said Harry.

"Poor Sirius," the twins lamented in unison, though Harry thought they looked more amused than sorry. They seemed to be having a great time at the dartboard. They could throw sharp objects in the house and Mrs Weasley didn't yell about it.

"Now, now. I'm sure Severus will keep his temper in check," said Mr. Weasley. He was bent over examining the custom-made snooker table. "Harry... why is one table longer than the other?" he asked concerning the two billiard tables in the room.

Distracted, Harry didn't register Mr. Weasley's question at first. "Huh... Oh." He turned away from the window and walked over to the gaming tables. "Dad says that one is for playing snooker and the other, shorter one is for American billiards. Don't ask me the difference. Dad hasn't taught me how to play yet."

"The craftsmanship on these tables is amazing," gawked Mr. Weasley. "I can't believe Muggles can accomplish this kind if artistry without magic." The feet of the tables were like huge black horse hooves that curved into horse heads that held up the base of the tables. The tables were made of mahogany with teak inlay. The felt was smoke black. The woven pockets were black leather.

"Dad said he had them made after his grandfather died."

It was only yesterday when Harry had that conversation with his father, but the topic went far deeper than billiard tables.

It was Saturday and Harry was finally out of his pyjamas and actually wearing a comfortable tee shirt and jeans. For the first time since being poisoned, Harry was feeling his old self again.

Harry was certain that the earth must have flipped over on its axis. Harry was in his father's lab catching up on his potions practicals. He was actually enjoying himself as he always hoped he would. As he worked on his Draught of Peace and he found out that when he wasn't being hounded by his father, he really did have a talent for brewing.

That's not to say his father wasn't watching him. His dad was at a separate table; he, too, was dressed for comfort in a simple white linen shirt and grey slacks. He even had his hair tied back. He was working on Remus' Wolfsbane Potion and he could not risk his hair getting into the brew. Every now and again Severus would look up to make sure Harry was proceeding accordingly and kept a close eye out for how much hellebore syrup and powdered moonstone Harry added to his potion.

Harry and Severus worked on their projects in companionable silence for nearly an hour. Ironically, it was Severus who was getting fidgety. He almost slammed his knife on the table when he said, "Harry..." Harry started at the sudden break in silence. "Do you mind if I play some music? I find it helps me to concentrate better."

Harry was a bit surprised at his father's strange request. It explained the music he was listening to in the cottage a few weeks back. He wondered if his father would start singing again, but he only said "Sure-play whatever you like, Dad." Harry was a bit disappointed when he heard classical music begin to play. It wasn't bad, though. It reminded him of flitting butterflies or a babbling brook. His disappointment faded when he admitted to himself he really liked what he was listening to. It was actually very relaxing.

"What is this, Dad?" Harry asked as he casually stirred his potion to the rhythm. "I feel like I'm floating down a river."

"Very good, Harry," his father said with a hint of surprise. "It is called Vltava, by Bedrich Smetana. It was inspired by a river. This was one of my mother's favourite pieces."

"I like it," Harry said.

"What other music do you enjoy?" his father asked.

Harry shrugged as he began to bottle his potion. "I don't suppose I really know. The only music I ever heard regularly was some noisy screeching rubbish that Dudley used to listen to. The only feelings that inspired were headaches and nausea."

Harry missed the incensed look in his father's eyes at the mention of his relatives; he was still talking about music. "Sometimes, I would hear music when I went to the park... but I never... well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to pretend he was tired rather than having just shed a tear. He listened to what surrounded him, allowing the flowing melody to wash away the bad memories.

"What doesn't matter, Harry?" his father pressed.

Harry put his glasses back on. He exhaled a deep breath and said, "It's nothing, really... I just didn't care about the latest trends and music as much as other kids, I guess... I mean... I never really fit in with anybody."

"I find that hard to believe, Harry," his dad said. "You made friends here at Hogwarts easily enough."

"Yeah...but I belong here, don't I," Harry tried to reason. "Out there... In the Muggle world... I was too different."

"Harry... Muggles and wizards are not all that different. I grew up almost completely in the Muggle world myself until I was nearly ready for Hogwarts. Your mother felt quite comfortable in both worlds. Why do you feel you were too different to belong?"

Harry shrugged, really wishing he could be floating down the river with that music rather than having this conversation with his father. "I suppose because my aunt and uncle always told me so," he said quietly.

"If I know Petunia, she did not phrase it so delicately." Something in his father's voice suggested to Harry that he was holding something back, but Harry didn't know exactly what.

As the music began to race faster, so did Harry's heart. Harry wondered if it was reacting to his emotions. "Dad... the Dursleys are behind me. I'd rather not talk about them right now."

Harry's racing heart came to a screeching halt when he saw his father cast a Stasis Charm over his cauldron.

"Harry, I think it's time we talked about your aunt and uncle."

"I don't want to."

"Harry... How did you get your black eye this summer?"

Harry froze. Where the hell did that come from? "I already told you..." Harry said, trying to cover his nervousness, "I stepped on the garden rake."

Harry had avoided looking at his father. That is, until someone removed the phial he was holding from his hand and a gentle hand turned his face upward to meet obsidian eyes. "Harry... do not lie to me."

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Harry practically whispered. He turned his gaze downward and began studying the lines in his empty hand. Anything to keep from looking at his dad.

"How often did Vernon Dursley hit you, Harry?" His tone indicated that he would accept nothing but the truth. Something told Harry he wouldn't get away with a lie if he tried. The best he could do was to try and downplay what happened.

"It didn't happen very often... I usually had to do something really bad to provoke him... Usually, my punishment meant skipped meals or extra chores. Mostly I just made a point to try to avoid them."

"There's nothing a child can do that could ever warrant black eyes, broken bones, or starvation, Harry. I would wager their precious child never received such punishment," his father spat.

"No." Harry shook his head and sniffed, blaming his runny nose on sneezwort. Surely his father kept some somewhere. Did sneezwort actually make one sneeze? "Dudley never got punished for anything. All he had to do was blame it on me, even if Uncle Vernon saw everything with his own eyes. It was if it somehow magically became the truth if Dudley said it was... more often than not, Uncle Vernon or Aunt Marge would encourage Dudley to bully me anyway."

"Aunt Marge?"

"Vernon's sister. Not calling her 'Aunt' was one of the 'cheeky offences' that would get me the back of the hand."

Harry watched as his father shut his eyes and his face tensed with anger. He could tell his dad was holding everything back. Harry felt guilty for being the cause of his father's pain. "Did Petunia ever have a hand in this?" his dad asked.

"No... she just set my chores and generally reminded me that I was a freak and a burden on her family," Harry said truthfully. "Other than that, she tended to ignore me and let Uncle Vernon do as he saw fit. What it boiled down to is that they hate magic and wanted me to forget that magic even existed."

"I find it amazing that words can sometimes sting more than the hand," his father said sadly. "I admit to my own guilt in this, but Petunia's actions, or lack of thereof, was abuse-as surely as if she struck you with her own hand. She was entrusted with your care and she betrayed that trust... How could she take out her animosity towards her sister on a mere child!"

A strange look came across Harry's father's face, as if he had been stuck by an invisible hand.

"Dad? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Harry...Here I am, raving on about Petunia's crimes... crimes I'm just as guilty of committing myself... I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Dad, we've already been through this. I told you already that I forgive you. Aunt Petunia was supposed to love me... you had no idea who I was... for you, I was just some snotty student who..."

"Harry... enough," Severus sighed. "Do not attempt to defend my past actions. I was wrong and all of the apologies in the world will never be penitence enough... I hate to admit it, but there are times I feel I am channelling my grandfather," he said as he rubbed his temples.

"Was your grandfather really bad?"

Severus lifted his eyebrow as if he said, 'Oh, yes'.

"Harry... sit down, son." His dad gestured to a work stool by the table and conjured another for himself. "What I am about to tell you, only two other people have ever known. I'm sure you can surmise who they are."

"Mum and Professor Dumbledore," Harry said without hesitation.

"Yes," Severus said. He sat opposite Harry. Harry knew what his father was about to say was important as the older wizard leaned towards him. "I want you to listen to me, Harry and let me finish. I rarely speak of my past... I'm sure you understand it is something I do not enjoy dwelling upon."

"Then why do you want to make me talk about mine?" Harry asked, not meaning to sound as bitter as he had.

"I may not speak often of my childhood, but I have come to terms with it. I do not deny the past. You, too, must come to terms with your past, Harry."

Harry straightened himself in his chair and folded his arms protectively across his chest but remained silent as his father began his story. "Harry... I'm sure you recall that I came to live with my grandfather when I was ten."

Harry nodded. "That, and that you lived close to Mum before then."

"Yes. I met your mother at the time I needed a friend the most." His dad took a deep breath before continuing his story. "Harry... when I was a little boy, I was very close to my father. I never learned the circumstances of how my parents met and fell in love, but I do know that they had loved each other. I have fond memories of family outings in the car. I remember my dad carrying me on his shoulders and taking me to the pub on occasion after he returned from work at the mill."

"He would take you to the pub?" Harry asked. Not sure if he heard correctly.

"Oh yes-my mother would fuss about it, but all I had to do was give a convincing cry and she would give in. I was quite the little manipulator. Slytherin from birth, I suppose. My father would have a drink or two over a game of snooker or Nine Men's Morris... exchange a few off colour jokes with his friends and we were home by nine."

Harry knew the story was about to turn sad as the bittersweet smile on his father's face turned to something darker. "Then one day, things changed. I was too young to understand at the time. All that I knew was that my father suddenly became a very harsh and bitter man."

"Did your dad know your mum was a witch?" Harry thought maybe that revelation would explain the sudden change in his grandfather.

"Surprisingly enough-he did. My mother never denied her magical heritage, but she chose to live the Muggle life. After I came to live with my grandfather, I understood why... But I digress... The reason things had changed was because the mill had shut down, my father could not find work and he took his sorrows to the bottle."

Harry scrutinized the pattern on the parquet floor as he listened to his father's story. "How bad did it get?"

"Bad enough for the neighbours to call out the constables from time to time. My parents' fights became the stuff of legend in Spinners End."

''Did he ever hit you and your mum?"

"He hit me once. The only time I ever saw him hit my mother was the last... after I blasted him through the kitchen wall with a burst of accidental magic. After that, things were better again for a brief time," Severus told Harry. "I did not find out until years later that, after my fit of accidental magic, my father had started to seek counselling for his alcoholism and anger management."

"Why couldn't I protect myself when..."

Severus reached out and touched Harry's hand and Harry felt comforted by the gesture. "Harry, I never stood up to my father when he raised his hand to me. Nor did I stand up to my grandfather. I felt that I somehow deserved it. It was in defence of my mother that I lashed out."

"I had no one to protect."

Severus looked as he had been hit in the gut, but he nodded in agreement, "Yes."

"Is that how you got this?" Harry was pointed at his own nose, but referred to his father's distinctly crooked one.

Severus touched his nose. "No... this was courtesy of my grandfather." He dropped his hand and continued his story. "I was very confused over my father's behaviour. I thought that perhaps I had done something to make my father hate me. I took me years and countless talks with your mother to make me realize that I had nothing to do with my father's anger. I did nothing wrong, and neither did my mother."

"At least something good came out of it."

"It was too little too late. Soon after that, my mother died when she was hit by a car on her way home from the market," Severus said, taking another deep breath as he listened to his mother's favourite symphonic poem. Harry didn't know it, but his grandmother, Eileen, would sit Severus on her lap and tell him the music's story as it unfolded. It was getting to the part about the mermaid's midnight moon dance.

"You can surmise that my father took back to his bottle. When my grandfather came around to claim his only living blood relative, it did not take much to declare my father as unfit... It was true... my father was in no shape to care for me."

"Did you want to go with your grandfather?"

"No, I did not," his father answered emphatically. "I had just lost my mother and I wanted to take care of my father. Neither did I want to leave behind my only friend."

Harry could definitely understand about not wanting to leave a friend behind. True friends were far too precious indeed. "I bet Mum was really sad to see you go."

Severus nodded. "It was the first time I ever saw her cry."

"If your grandfather disowned your mum, why did he suddenly want you?"

"Basically, he realized that he would have no more children himself and he desperately wanted an heir. Prince Manor has magical stipulations. It can only be passed to those with blood ties. Augustus could not name another heir if he wanted to. Apparently, he had been trying to steal me from my parents for years. It wasn't until my mother's death that he was able to win custody."

"Why didn't he just take his daughter back?" Harry asked curiously.

"He made the offer but she would not go back. Part of the stipulation was she had to give up her husband. Mum refused to give up on Tobias."

"What was it like living with your grandfather?"

Harry could see a chill run up his father's spine. "I'm sure you can relate when I tell you he did everything he could to try to make me forget my Muggle heritage. I was not permitted to even mention my father. This..." Severus tapped his crooked nose, "...was the result of me writing to your mother soon after I arrived at Prince Manor. A full-fisted blow to a ten-year-old child."

The tone of the music playing was becoming as turbulent as the subject.

"Your godfather was correct in his assessment that I knew a great deal of Dark Arts by the time I entered Hogwarts. It was at my grandfather's insistence that I learn them; his punishment for failure was... severe. He would call me a worthless Squib, threaten to break my fingers in my wand hand... called me a disgrace to the House of Prince."

Harry didn't know why he had to know, he just did. "What did he try to make you do?"

"He tried to force me to cast a Cruciatus Curse on Cassie. I refused."

Harry felt stricken with horror. What fiend would teach a ten-year-old to cast a Cruciatus? Especially on a poor, unsuspecting house-elf.

Severus shook his head. "Fortunately, I started Hogwarts the following year and met up again with your mother at Kings Cross."

"I bet she was happy to see you." Harry managed a little smile. This story desperately needed a happy ending.

"Yes... yes, she was. Your grandmother Evans made quite the fuss over me, as well. It felt good to be loved again," Severus said with a smile.

"Did you ever get to see your dad again?" Harry felt a little sad for his grandfather. Tobias was finally seeking help when his wife was killed in a mindless accident, and then had his only child taken away from him.

"Yes," Severus nodded. "In the summer of my third year, I asked my grandfather if I could stay the summer with the Averys. He agreed. I stayed with Avery one week then I took my leave and sneaked over to my father's home. He was so happy to see me, but he was ill. I could tell by his pallor that he was in the grips of cirrhosis of the liver. He refused treatment, saying that he was ready to be with Mother. I stayed there that summer. Lily helped me to take care of him. We even managed to talk him into seeking treatment for my sake. Mr Evans would take him to see the doctor. We did manage to go to the pub and play some of the old games a couple of times."

"Did he get better?"

Severus shook his head. "He died later that year. Mr Evans sent me word at Hogwarts. The school gave me leave to attend his funeral and I did. When my grandfather found out, I received my first Cruciatus when I came home that summer."

Harry was stunned. "Your own grandfather?"

"That was a particularly bad summer. I never filed a complaint over the uses of an Unforgivable because I thought I deserved it. I felt like I abandoned my father. He needed help, and I let my grandfather take me away. I felt like I drove my father back to his bottle...To make matters worse, Voldemort was beginning to make his move that summer and my grandfather was keen to have me represent his family amongst Voldemort's Death Eaters. I fought ferociously on that point. I received more hexes and curses from Augustus that summer than I have ever received at the hands of the Dark Lord."

The music was once again becoming placid.

"By the time I returned to school for my fifth year, the headmaster noticed something was wrong. He mentored me and treated me as his own. As infuriating as that old coot can be, I will be forever grateful for that. The following summer, Dumbledore offered me a Potions Internship. It managed to keep me from my grandfather's clutches for one more summer... In fact, I never saw him again."

"When did he die?" Harry already knew that his great-grandfather had died before his dad left Hogwarts.

"Spring of my sixth year. He died in the same Dragon Pox outbreak that killed Abraxas Malfoy. I was of age and everything had passed to me. The first thing I did was commission a Muggle snooker table and had it installed at the manor in memory of my father." Severus smiled as the music faded away. "I believe I've told you the rest."

Harry walked over and put his arms around his father. "You never deserved what he did to you."

Severus returned the embrace and patted Harry on the back. "And neither did you."

Harry pulled out of his father's arms. He almost wiped his running nose on his upper sleeve, but remembered his father's handkerchief. "I know."

Harry was glad for the change in subject when his father asked, "You haven't been out in several days. How do you feel about a walk by the Black Lake with your old man?"

"Sounds great! Let me go put on a jumper." Harry scrambled out to go change.

"And change that bloody tee shirt, too!" Severus yelled after him.

"Harry, your library here is absolutely brilliant!" Harry turned abruptly to see Hermione panting with excitement in the doorway. Ginny stood next her, looking absolutely put out for being dragged into something as boring as a library. Mrs Weasley was behind them. The manor was massive and Harry was sure Mrs Weasley thought the girls would get easily lost.

"Do you think Professor Snape will let me borrow this copy of Arabian Nights?" Her eyes were practically pleading as she grasped a green leather-bound tome to her chest.

Harry was about to tell her to ask his dad when everyone jumped at the sound of a *POP*. It was Cassie. No one was used to the comings and goings of house-elves yet. "Master Harry, your father says to remind you that the rest of your guests will be coming soon."

"Thank you, Cassie. We'll head up to the library now to greet them," Harry said as Ron put up his snooker cue and the twins put the darts back in their case.

"No, sir. Not the library, sir," Cassie said. "The guests will be arriving in the Grand Dining Hall. It has the only Floo that will fit the professor called Hagrid.

It was a fine gathering. Harry had been allowed to make the guest list. Along with Hermione and the Weasleys, the rest of Hogwarts' Heads of House and Hagrid, there was Neville Longbottom and his esteemed grandmother and his Great Uncle Algie, and Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks. Originally, Harry had wanted to exclude his godfather from the celebration, but after Harry explained to Severus what had happened to the wine, Severus had insisted that Black be invited. The headmaster was conspicuously missing.

The children, with the exception of Neville and Hermione, who were sitting on a bench in the flower garden reading Arabian Nights, were playing a game of Swivenhodge over the ivy wall. The adults sat at a long table in the shade of one of the white tents having tea, enjoying tea.

"...He said that he had found something of terrible importance and it was imperative that he speak with Lucius Malfoy right away," explained Minerva.

"The headmaster said nothing else on the matter?" inquired Severus.

"Nothing," Minerva replied curtly.

"I wonder what could have been so important to warrant Albus missing an occasion such as this," Remus wondered.

Severus wondered the same thing. "Whatever it is, if he is meeting with Malfoy it does not bode well. His business undoubtedly has something to do with Voldemort." Everybody at the table squirmed at Severus' bold use of the name.

"What do you suppose...?" before Arthur could finish his sentence, a horde of teenagers descended upon the adults with broomsticks in hand. Harry led the way.

"Dad-all of us have talked it over and we're ready to eat now," Harry announced.

Severus' eyebrow cocked up at his son's bold proclamation as he surveyed the pack of ravenous teens. "Indeed! Who am I to deny food to a mob of half-starved teenagers armed with brooms?"

"Great! Come on guys," Harry proclaimed as he waved over the adolescent horde. The children ran over and propped their brooms against the ivy wall and made a beeline for the buffet tent.

Severus ushered the adults over to the buffet tent. "If we are to have any hope of eating, I suggest we make for the buffet now."

"With that lot, we'll be lucky if there's a grape left to divide amongst us," Molly chimed.

Sirius, Severus, and Remus cleared their throats at the same time. Sirius looked especially pale.

When they reached the tent, something unexpected happened. Sirius Black seemed to take over the proceedings. "Will everybody please gather 'round!" he called out.

When everyone had gathered under the tent, Sirius directed, "Harry, come here and stand next to Severus."

There was an audible gasp as Sirius called Severus by his given name. Harry stood next to Severus, dumbfounded. A lot had changed while Harry was in the house with his friends. It was Severus' and Sirius' gift to Harry.

On the table behind them was a large chocolate cake filled with orange cream. There was no writing on it. In front of the cake were three unopened bottles of wine.

"Sirius-Remus-as Harry's godfathers, will you join me in the honour?" Severus indicated to the wine.

The gathering had fallen silent. Harry could hardly breathe. Since when was his father on a first-name basis with Sirius and Remus? And when did he make Remus his godfather?

The three wizards each opened a bottle of wine, poured out small amounts of wine into the glasses and passed them out to all of the adults and Harry. Harry's friends had been given a special punch the house-elves had made for the occasion.

Harry thought that there must be something special about the bottle his father opened. Although there was still wine in the bottle, only he, his father, Sirius and Remus had received a glass of it. Harry would ask about its significance later.

Sirius stepped forward and made an announcement. "Severus: as godfathers, Remus and I claim the first toast."

Harry nearly fell over when his father nodded his acknowledgment. He wanted to ask Ron and Hermione if all of this was real, but he was afraid to wake up from a wonderful dream. But he had to admit, even his friends looked like they had stepped into some strange alternate reality.

Remus spoke first.

"Harry-standing before you are two men who have loved you since the day you were born. The night Lily and James died was the saddest day in our lives. Not only did we lose our best friends, we lost you as well. It would be another twelve years before we would see you again. I know I personally was astonished over how you were so much like your parents. Blessed with Lily's beautiful nature and cursed with James' bad hair." A wave of giggles passed through the congregation. Harry blushed with embarrassment. "There was always something haunting about you, Harry-as if something was missing, Something that, no matter how much any of the rest of us tried, we could never fill that void for you." There was a soft murmur of acknowledgement, especially from the adults.

Sirius cleared his throat and continued with the speech. "Severus, needless to say, when I found out you were Harry's father, I could shite a brick."

"SIRIUS!"

The entire crowd erupted with laughter. Now Harry was really embarrassed.

"Sorry, Molly-I mean, I was astonished. I refused to believe that my childhood nemesis could ever do right by James' boy. But perhaps that was the problem... that's why nobody else could fulfill Harry's needs, because we treated Harry like James' boy. But Harry was never James' boy. He's your boy. It's obvious to all of us now and not just because Harry is beginning to look like you. Now that I think about it, there has always been a little bit of you in Harry. Despite what popular opinion has to say, you are good for Harry. I don't think there is a single person amongst us who can honestly say that they've seen Harry happier. It's clear that he's been good for you too... Hell... I don't ever recall ever seeing you happy before you discovered your son. So everyone-raise your glass to the Snapes and their continued happiness."

Remus shouted "To Happiness!"

"HEAR, HEAR!"

Harry had a hard time keeping the tears back. It was hard to believe these people were here to support Harry and his dad.

Harry's dad was the next to speak. Harry had never seen Severus Snape look so nervous. He looked like a niffler in a room full of kneazles.

"Harry and I wish to thank all of you for coming today and expressing your support. To be honest with you, this little get-together was Harry's idea and I have no idea how those two..." his father pointed to Sirius and Remus, "...bamboozled me into making a bloody speech. So make a bloody speech I will. As you all know, I am not a demonstrative man and keep my privacy guarded. After certain events, I had convinced myself that I neither wanted nor needed a family. Harry has happily proven me wrong. Without hesitation or repentance I proclaim to anyone who can hear my voice, I am proud to acknowledge my new friendships, I am proud to call you son, I am proud to be your dad... I am proud to call us all family."

Harry could scarcely breathe when his father ended his speech. He hardly noticed his father flick his wand towards the cake. The collective awe of his friends brought Harry back into reality.

Words had appeared on the cake. Words he never thought would come from his father. Welcome Friends and Family to Snape Manor.

Harry couldn't believe it. If he'd known this was going to happen, he would have had Sirius steal something from his father much sooner.

Suddenly Sirius and Remus raised their glasses and both proclaimed loudly, "TO FAMILY!"

"TO FAMILY!"

Harry drank to his family. Before he knew what happened, he was wrapped in a large embrace from his father with the people he loved most in the world cheering them on. Harry could honestly say it was the happiest day of his life.

Severus looked down the hall, impatiently waiting for his son to make his grand entrance from his bedroom. If the boy were much longer, they would be late for breakfast. "Harry...are you ready?"

An impatient voice called from the other side of the door, "On the way out, Dad."

Severus' patience began to wear thin. He marched down the hall to the boy's room. Just as he reached for the knob, the door swung open. Harry gave a final adjustment to his Gryffindor robes. He wasn't paying attention when he ran directly into Severus.

"Oomph!" Harry's glasses flew off his face and he clumsily caught them. "Sorry, Dad.".

"Are you quite ready, yet?" Severus asked impatiently. Was getting ready on time really too much to ask of the boy?

"Yeah, Dad. Let's go." The boy didn't sound too convincing, but Severus had this conversation with Harry the night before. Harry was anxious to get back to his old routine.

Severus followed his son into the sitting room and to the front door. "You have all your assignments?"

"You know, you really don't have to be such a mother hen about..." Harry stopped short of the door. "Shite!" He looked guiltily at Severus and back to his room.

"I thought as much," Severus muttered as his son flew down the hall.

Severus waited for Harry with the door open to the dungeon. It was the first day the dungeons had been opened since the incident with the quill.

Less than thirty seconds later, Harry scurried past him as the boy unceremoniously stuffed two rolls of parchment into his rucksack. Severus huffed and shook his head in disbelief at the lack of care Harry showed his work. That was one habit Severus was determined to change.

"Thanks." The oblivious child just grinned as he looked up to Severus.

Severus warded the chamber and walked alongside his son down the dark corridor. "You know, Harry, I've heard rumours that the Potion's Master deducts points for sloppy work."

"I'm sure my dad would have something to say about that," the boy said cheekily.

"I think you've taken too many lessons with Mr Malfoy."

"Can't say I disagree with you there," Harry answered back.

Severus rolled his eyes. He unconsciously ran his fingers through Harry's hair, regretting its length. "I think a haircut is long overdue," he lamented.

Harry scoffed and looked at him in disbelief. "Look who this is coming from? Don't you think that's the cauldron calling the kettle black?"

Severus' cut a look at Harry and he mumbled under his breath, "Your mother preferred long hair."

Harry looked as though he were choking back a laugh.

It was quiet as they approached the Great Hall. Breakfast had already started. Harry gulped down a chunk of air. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face down the school again, but it wasn't as if he had a choice.

Thankfully, the doors were left ajar. He could slip into the hall without too much attention. His dad stopped him just before going in. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Harry folded his arms protectively over his chest. He wasn't really sure where the anxiety was coming from. Harry peeked around the corner, looking at the sea of people. When he turned to his dad again, he shook his head. "No...I'll be okay."

His father looked doubtful as he gave Harry a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "You're quite sure?"

Harry gave a quick nod and a tentative smile "Yeah." He was determined to do this, no matter how scared he felt.

His dad exhaled heavily and dropped his hand, 'Very well, but if you need me for anything, do not hesitate. Even if I'm in the middle of a lesson. Got it?"

Harry felt a little bolder knowing he could turn to his dad and his smile brightened a bit. "Got it. If we're going to have breakfast sometime today, we better get this over with. Now shoo!"

His father looked at him, taken aback. He waved Harry off towards the Great Hall. "Fine then. Go have breakfast with your little friends. I'll see you later in class."

Harry was going to answer with another retort, but his father had already swept away in a flurry of cloak. He smiled to himself and slipped into the hall.

He found himself lucky. Everyone was too engaged in chatter to notice Harry's entrance. Harry smiled because Ron and Hermione thought enough to sit themselves closest to the door. Neville Longbottom sat across from them intently engaged in conversation. His friends had saved just enough room for Harry at the end of the table.

Harry slid quietly next to Hermione. Apparently too quiet because he startled her and she called out, "Harry!"

For a moment, the Great Hall went eerily silent, as if all the sound had been sucked out of the room and all eyes turned to Harry. Then, the room erupted with thunderous applause.

It was a good thing Harry wasn't claustrophobic, because he was suddenly descended upon by a mass of humanity. Guys were offering handshakes and girls were trying to hug him. Well wishes and accolades echoed through the hall. Ron, Hermione, and even Neville managed to break through and push back the crowd in an effort to keep Harry from being crushed in the melee.

"Back off the lot of you. Are you trying to kill the poor bloke, again?"

Harry thought he should know the voice that carried itself over the crowd, but he couldn't quite place it.

Other students looked back to see where the voice had come from. The crowd parted and Harry recognised the face of Teddy Nott, of all people. His dad told him that Nott's father had sent him a post and to expect to hear from the Slytherin. There seemed to be about a dozen others standing behind him, all from different Houses. It struck Harry as odd that Nott had become the default leader of the Death Eater's children. Harry thought it would have been Malfoy. To the rest of his classmates, they must have looked like a motley crew. Outside their own group, only Harry knew what these particular children had in common.

Ron and Neville manoeuvred themselves in front of Harry with their wands by their sides. When had Neville become so tall? Harry put a hand between his friends and gently parted them. "It's okay guys. They're not here to start anything."At least Harry hoped they weren't. Between Ron and Neville by his side, and his father and Remus glaring down from the head table, a few ill-chosen words could turn things very ugly, very quickly.

Harry could see the debate raging inside the boy in front of him, when unexpectedly, Teddy Nott extended his hand. "Potter. Glad to see the berk was sloppy to the last," he said callously. "And we...," he indicated to the children behind him, "...want to offer our thanks to you and your old man...for everything you're trying to do for our families."

Most of the crowd had moved back to their House tables, but those who remained looked confused as to what Nott was talking about.

"We haven't done anything yet," Harry said as he accepted Nott's handshake. Harry looked around. There was more he needed to say, but there were too many ears about.

Nott looked around seemingly aware of the same thing Harry was. "That's okay. You always seem to manage to do the right thing in the end. We can talk later."

Harry noticed Malfoy sitting alone at the Slytherin table, jabbing the food on his plate. "Sure," Harry said agreeably. "Bring Malfoy along next time, would you."

Nott looked over at his House table then back to Harry. "I don't know if he'll come. He told us what was going on, but it looks like his father doesn't believe...you know." Nott's eyes cut a quick glance to his left arm as he almost imperceptibly twisted his wrist.

Harry's subtly nodded his understanding. It was so slight, he looked as though he just blinked hard.

"Right then," Nott said as he looked down on the Gryffindor table. "Suppose we better let you tuck-in."

Harry and his friends sat back down at their table as everyone dispersed. Once everybody cleared out and went about their business, Neville leaned over the table and whispered, "What do you suppose that was all about?"

"Don't worry yourself over it, Neville," Ron said as he put three large kippers on Harry's plate. "It's Harry's and Snape's affair. We need to just leave them alone to their own business."

Hermione dropped her fork on the table, staring agape at Ron.

"What?" Ron said as he looked about, cluelessly.

Fred and George leaned in from across the table, "Excuse us, Little Brother...,"
"...but we've never known you to be so..."
"Rational." Ginny finished her brother's sentence.

Harry internally laughed at his best friend's conflicted face as he simultaneously wondered how he was going to eat so much food. Poor Ron honestly didn't know if he had been complimented or insulted.

Harry just shook his head and smiled, "Ron is just full of surprises."

"Thanks, Harry...I think?" Ron said and he began to tuck into his second helping of breakfast that morning.

Harry grinned and took a lusty bite out of one of his kippers. He couldn't believe how scared he had been just to walk into the hall. He had to admit. It was a balm to sit down and have an ordinary breakfast with his friends.

Severus watched from the dais as a throng closed in around Harry. Severus had his hand in his robe, twitching over his wand. Teddy Nott and around a dozen children, all belonging to Death Eaters, boldly approached his son. Age be damned, he would forever curse the next person to threaten Harry.

Lupin was sitting in the chair beside him. Severus could see the muscles in the werewolf begin to tense. It was good to know that there was at least one teacher ready to jump to his aid.

Minerva eyed them with ill-disguised suspicion. The rest of the staff seemed equally ill at ease. No one else seemed to think there was anything amiss. "Severus? Remus?" Minerva looked down at the crowd of children below. "Calm yourselves. You heard them. They're just welcoming Harry back."

"Silence, woman!" Severus hissed under his breath while keeping his eyes locked on the scene below. He ignored her offence.

Severus was perfectly aware of Harry's near-death experience and his relationship to him had been the hottest topic of gossip at Hogwarts all week. Of course, there had been theories and conjecture over Harry's relationship with the hated Potions Master, but most of it had been sympathetic. And it appeared that no one else hated Harry enough to want him to die. But as any good spy knows, things are not always what they seem.

Down below, Severus could see Messer's Weasley and Longbottom placing themselves protectively between Harry and Mr Nott. Harry had said something to his two friends and boldly stepped out to confront the Slytherin boy. It heartened Severus to know that Harry had such ardent defenders. It appeared that at some point, Neville Longbottom found his inner lion.

The exchange did not take long and seemed to end peacefully. But the hairs still stood up on the back of Severus' neck. It was Lupin who snapped Severus back to reality. He gave a quick tug on the sleeve of Severus' robe. Severus had to remember not to leer at the man.

"Come on, Severus. They obviously intended no ill will."

"I will never make an assumption to anyone's intent towards Harry, again," Severus said as he finally took his seat.

In their quarters and at the manor, Harry had been under constant surveillance by trusted individuals. Now that his son was back out among the general student population, Severus could not help but to be on his guard. Already, he was itching to down the Calming Draught he had pocketed this morning.

"Under the circumstances, I would call that a wise decision," Lupin conceded as he spooned granola into his porridge. "He seems to be in good spirits." Lupin pointed his spoon towards the Gryffindor table.

"So, I see," Severus said as he buttered his toast. He hadn't even noticed that he was scraping a hole in his bread.

"Well it's good you see something," Lupin said through his irritating chuckle. "You do actually intend on having some toast with that butter?"

Severus looked down at his intended breakfast with disgust and dropped his toast and knife with more force than he needed. As he wiped the crumbs from his hands, he felt the tap of a familiar bony finger on his shoulder.

"I'm in no mood today, Minerva."

"Oh, shut it, Severus. You didn't hurt my feelings," Minerva said pithily. "I only wanted to make you aware of one of your snakes." She pointed out the lone blond at the Slytherin table and headed off to prepare for her first class of the day.

Malfoy sat alone, his head down, staring at something in his lap. He appeared to be reading. The boy's face was pulled tighter than a drum.

"I see he received his letter," Severus said to no one in particular.

Lupin's brow furrowed. "His letter?"

Severus remembered that Remus was next to him again. "Humph...Yes, Lucius couldn't reveal certain things to Draco in the event his post was intercepted."

"So, the boy thinks..."

Severus nodded gravely. "Yes. I will speak to him before the day is out." He took a last swig of his coffee. Yes, it would be best to talk to the boy later. Since he did not have breakfast, Severus was guaranteed to be in a right foul mood this morning. Woe be to his morning classes.

"Poor boy," Lupin sighed. "You mean to tell me that he thinks..."

"...his father has set other priorities above him," Severus confirmed.

Severus knew what Lupin was thinking and he agreed. mr Malfoy's peers had received reassurances from their parents that they would defy the Dark Lord to keep them safe. Malfoy looked to have no such reassurance of his father's priorities. Ironic. There was no one putting themselves in more danger for the sake of their child than Lucius Malfoy at that very moment.

"Well, if you don't say something, I will," Lupin declared.

Severus boldly strode into the Gryffindor common room. The loud music and boisterous teenage chatter came to an abrupt halt.

It was good to see that fatherhood had not softened him enough to tarnish his infamous reputation amongst the student population. Severus' presence filled the entire room as he stood menacingly over the dumbstruck teenagers.

"Where is Harry?" He asked without preamble.

Ms Weasley was seated at a corner with two of her year mates 'studying'. Though how anyone could study amongst the ruckus, Severus did not know. Apparently, she was the only person present who was brave enough to speak up. "He's up in his dorm studying." Severus' eyes scanned the room at the little miscreants. So much for Gryffindor courage.

"Thank you, Ms Weasley." Severus swept up the stairs to the boy's dorm. Behind him, he could hear the collective release of over two dozen held breaths. He smiled to himself as he ascended the stairs.

When he reached the fifth-year boy's dorm, he could hear laughter and loud explosions emanating from the other side. Studying indeed.

Severus gave two loud knocks on the door and the laughter ceased. The door cracked open and a face peaked out from around the other side.

"Holy Shite!" Mr Finnegan shrieked like a first-year. He backed up so quickly, he fell arse backwards over Neville Longbottom.

"Hey!" Longbottom cried out in protest.

"Dad!" Harry hopped up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the rest of his dorm-mates. He looked down at his hands and hid the cards he was holding behind his back. "Wha...what are you doing here?" Every boy had the hoods from their robes pulled over their heads. There were discarded wrappers from sweets and crisps lying about. They looked more like a cabal planning the overthrow of the world, than a bunch of teenagers playing an innocent game of Exploding Snap.

Weasley and Thomas looked as if they were afraid to move. Nice try. But no matter how they tried to fade into the walls, they couldn't escape Snape's stony glare.

Severus eyes shifted from student to student as he surveyed the room. His demeanour changed abruptly when he said simply, "Harry, come with me."

Harry gave Neville his cards and tossed his robe on the bed. As he followed Severus out of the room, he waved to his friends and said, "Goodbye."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You're not being marched to the gallows, Harry."

One last look into the dorm of stunned teenagers and it seemed as if Harry's friends would need some convincing. Severus laughed inside. Not so much that he had terrified a bunch of teenaged boys, which he had to admit was quite satisfying. But it did his heart good to see Harry so carefree with his friends. Severus knew Harry wouldn't have many moments like this. He hated to break up the game.

Harry stayed two steps behind as they descended the stairs. "Am I in trouble?"

"Why? Should you be?" They marched past the students in the common room, carrying on their conversation as if no one were there.

Harry still hadn't answered as Severus held open the painting for him. His eyes narrowed as the boy passed, seemingly thinking of what he may have done wrong during the day.

"I'm not in trouble for what we were doing in the dorm am I?"

"What were you doing in your dorm?" Severus asked with a feigned interest.

Harry said defensively, "We were only playing Exploding Snap."

"We'll have to see, then, won't we?" Severus answered mildly. "I'll decide whether or not you deserved to be punished once I see your marks."

Harry gulped. He made a mental note to hit the books once he returned from wherever it was his dad was taking him. "Where are we going?" He asked so he could change the subject.

"To find someone," his father answered allusively.

Harry noticed they were heading towards the dungeons. They were obviously on their way to the Slytherin common room. He came to the only conclusion. "We're going to talk to Malfoy."

"And to think I once doubted your intelligence," his father quipped.

Harry felt a little annoyed being dragged out of his game. Remus had already told Malfoy about the potion. What did his father need him for? Sure, Harry intended to speak with Malfoy later, but that was with all the Death Eater's kids. No doubt, Malfoy looked bummed that morning. But was it up to Harry to play therapist?

Once again, they stood in front of the small portrait. Once again, his father muttered a Latin password and the door appeared. This time, the password was different. Obviously changed so Harry couldn't sneak his way into enemy territory.

Once again, Harry followed Severus and an uneasy silence hung in the already dreary room.

His father got directly to the point, "Has anyone seen Mr Malfoy?"

The Slytherins looked to each other, clearly puzzled. Pansy Parkinson spoke up. "We haven't seen Draco since Transfiguration, Professor?" Indicating the fifth-years standing behind her.

"Does anyone know where he may be?"

A third-year boy stepped forward. "I think I saw him head in the direction of the owlery about an hour ago, sir"

"Thank you, Mr McDonald," Severus said. Harry's father nodded politely before abruptly turning on his heal and heading out the door again. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation and followed his father.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this is all about?" Harry cried out as he tried to catch up with his father. He knew Professor Snape had a proclivity to sneak up on a student before they even realised he was there, but Harry never witnessed the speed and silent grace that his father possessed when he was really in a hurry. He wondered if something like that was hereditary.

They exited the castle and continued their silent trek to the owlery. Harry tried his best to keep up, but his father had to stop once to let Harry catch up. When they did stop, his father finally answered, "Let's just say we are on a mission of mercy."

Well, that wasn't what Harry expected to hear. At least not from Severus Snape. But then again, should he really be surprised by his father anymore?

As they approached the owlery tower the sun began to set beyond the Highlands. Halfway up the spiralling staircase to the owlery, Harry and his father nearly stumbled over Draco Malfoy. He sat on a step with an envelope in his hand. Harry couldn't remember ever seeing someone look so pitiful.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Malfoy said as he wiped both cheeks with his sleeve. "I'll be on my way back to the common room now." Harry turned his head, pretending not to see. Malfoy had always been so proud. Yes, Draco Malfoy had a tendency to turn the bile in Harry's gut nearly every time they met. But something just seemed perverse in finding Malfoy like this.

Severus looked down at Malfoy. There was an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. "Mr Malfoy, we actually came here looking for you."

Malfoy looked up with surprise at his Head of House. Then he noticed Harry was there, too. The glare from Malfoy's grey eyes was as hard as ice.

"Why don't we find someplace where we all can speak comfortably?" Severus offered. The professor offered Malfoy a hand up, but the boy just looked at it, as if he expected his professor's hand to shock him if he touched it.

Malfoy looked at his Head of House and then again at Harry. He looked as though he didn't know who to trust anymore. For the first time ever, Harry could relate with Draco Malfoy.

"Gentlemen, come with me," Severus directed.

Harry kept his gaze on Malfoy. Malfoy looked at him, seemingly at a loss. Harry shrugged and said, "We go with him."

Looking resigned, Malfoy eased his way up and followed behind Harry and his father.

Harry was a bit surprised they headed in the opposite direction of the castle. Severus was leading them into the stands of the Quidditch pitch, instead.

They climbed the stairs in silence until they reach one of the teacher's boxes.

"Why are we up here?" Malfoy asked snidely. Apparently, their walk to the Quidditch pitch was long enough for Malfoy to lose his melancholy and regain his snark.

"So we can be far away from walls with ears," Severus said as he indicated for them to sit down. "That, and it is a lovely night to watch the sunset."

Harry snorted, as he and Malfoy hesitantly took seats as far away from each other as they could. His father looked at him with surprise. "What was that for?"

Harry chortled, "You've had too many meetings with the headmaster."

Severus' eyes narrowed with annoyance while Malfoy gaped at him with disbelief.

"Harry," Severus said seriously, "I brought you here because you need to understand what is going on." Harry sobered. Severus was trying to tactfully tell him that he needed to shut up and listen.

Harry had a good idea what this was all about. Mr Malfoy couldn't have his Mark removed yet. No wonder Malfoy looked so dejected. What would that do to a guy...thinking your parents didn't care enough about your safety? Or even worse, that they could make a willing sacrifice of you?

Malfoy glared at him from the other side of the bench. Harry had no doubt he was returning the same icy stare. Harry still wasn't sure how much Malfoy could be trusted. It didn't matter that they were on the same side of the war. Sometimes the past was harder to recover from than mamba venom.

Malfoy finally broke the awkward silence between them when he snapped, "I wasn't breaking any rules! The ban was lifted on owls over a week ago!"

Severus looked a Malfoy intently, trying to meet his eyes, but Malfoy would have none of it. Harry wondered if the boy thought his Head of House was trying to use Legilimency on him. Harry couldn't blame him for thinking that way. "You were sending a post to your father," Severus said, matter-of-factly.

Malfoy's head hung low. He seemed to be studying his hands as they lay in his lap. "So, what if I was?" He said meekly. "Last time I checked it wasn't a crime to write to family."

Harry watched his father as he sighed and scooted closer to his student. The man leaned in closer to Draco and said sympathetically, "Mr Malfoy...Draco." This time Malfoy did look up. "You will not find answers with your father...not yet, at any rate."

Malfoy's mask of defiance fell. Just when Harry thought he couldn't pity the boy anymore, Malfoy's face morphed from misery to mortification. His grey eyes glistened and trembled with barely held back rage and tears.

"Are...are you trying to tell me that he wants to do this. That he's willing to k...kill..."

Severus broke Malfoy's question, "No! Lucius loves you very much. He'd risk anything to keep you safe."

"Then I don't understand," Draco said in exasperation. "Pott...he," he said as he jutted his chin towards Harry, "...actually rid you of your Dark Mark. He's offered to help anyone who wants to leave the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord really wants to kill first-borns, why would my father agree to stay when he has a way out?"

"Draco, your father has no more desire to serve the Dark Lord. He's..."

Malfoy finally exploded. "Don't feed me a line of bullshite, Professor! I know what he did!" Malfoy pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "Nobody can deny that you are free of the Mark! My father," Malfoy jabbed his finger into his chest for emphasis, "told me not to listen to the Headmaster's 'stories'. Well, it's not a story, and say what you will about my father, he's no idiot! It's obvious! He'd rather play sycophant to that...that...FREAK, than protect his own wife and son!"

Malfoy had screamed the word 'Freak' so loudly, that the word echoed throughout the stands.

Harry honestly felt sorry for Draco Malfoy. Harry would have much preferred to stay alone his whole life, knowing that his parents died to protect him, than believe for just one moment, that they would willingly give him over for a blood sacrifice.

Severus looked awkward. Harry could almost see his brain searching to look for the right words.

"Draco," Severus said delicately. "Before Harry freed me from the Mark, your father agreed to take on my former role as a spy."

Draco eyes narrowed with suspicion and disbelief. "You were a spy?"

"Yes. From the beginning," Severus admitted. "Your father agreed to take my place after we found out about Voldemort's call for sacrifices, but before we realised that Harry could remove Dark Marks."

"But why?"

"Look at Harry, Draco."

Malfoy turned and looked at Harry. It seemed he had forgotten that Harry was even there. "I see your point." Then he turned back to Severus and asked, "Why can't he just give it up like you did? Potter...He can remove father's Mark!"

Harry didn't like that. He didn't want to be blamed for Mr Malfoy's choice to become a spy. He couldn't force Mr Malfoy to have it removed.

"His choice is not that simple, Draco," Severus explained. "Although those who choose to have their Mark removed will no longer have to worry about the Dark Lord's influence, they will still be in grave danger. They will be targets. Many may have to go into hiding. As long as your father remains in the Dark Lord's good graces, he is buying time, and feeding us valuable information that could lead to the Dark Lord's imminent downfall. No one is safe, if the Dark Lord returns to full power."

Malfoy sniffed and nodded. "But am I safe around him? Can I go home?"

Harry could see the palpable regret on his father's face. "I'm afraid not. For now, the safest place for you to be is Hogwarts. Your mother can see you, though."

Malfoy looked up to the sky, as though he were trying to hold his tears back. "Right," he said gustily. "Right."

In an abrupt change of topic and attitude, Malfoy turned to Harry. Now it was Severus' turn to eavesdrop. "So, Potter...Damn! I don't even know what to call you anymore."

Harry shrugged, "Well, my name is Harry."

Malfoy cringed at the thought, and so did Harry, if truth be told. "That would never work."

Harry agreed. "Why don't we just keep it simple and you can just call me 'Snape'."

Malfoy shook his head in disbelief, but seemed resigned, anyway. "Fine. 'Snape' it is. I'll just have to remember not to call you 'Professor'."

"You know, I was going to tell you about your dad until I had that run-in with Goyle's little gift," Harry said.

"Yeah, about that," Malfoy said nervously. "I want to apologize for that. I don't know what I was thinking bringing something like that into a school."

Harry did. Malfoy was trying to impress his friends and professor. "It's okay." Harry could truthfully say it, because it was. "But look. I'm sorry about Crabb and Goyle."

If scepticism were a weapon, Malfoy's eyes would have dropped Harry like a Stupify hex. "Goyle tried to kill you. You hated them both."

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "But you didn't. They were your friends. And who's to say Goyle acted on his own. His father could have put him up to it or he could have been bewitched. Anyway...I don't know what I'd do if I lost Ron and Hermione. I'm sorry."

Malfoy seemed to take it all in when Severus interjected. "It's fortunate for you, Draco, that Harry's nature takes after his mother, rather than his father."

Severus finally arose and dusted off his trousers. Harry and Malfoy followed suit. It was getting darker and the first stars were appearing in the sky. Severus turned back to Malfoy before they left. "I believe, it should go without saying, Draco, that if word of this gets out to the wrong people, your father's life is as good as forfeit."

"I know, Professor." Some of Malfoy's bravado had returned. "Like my father, I'm no idiot."