"Hey kid, shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Almost. There's no one to tell us a story!"

"Story? Aren't you getting a little old for it? You know your grandma stopped telling us stories when we were about your age."

Eli stuck his bottom lip out, and when he could see it wasn't working he crossed his arms. "Please? Mum's with the neighbor down the street and dad's out back working on something for Teddy because he's gonna be over tomorrow night."

"Oh, that. Well, what kind of story do you want?" He asked as he allowed Eli to take his hand and drag him up the stairs to their bedroom, where Sam was laying on his back on the bed looking at a magazine.

"Let's see," Ron said, holding out his hand for the magazine, and Sam turned red as he handed over Witch Monthly, the article advertised on the cover reading, "Top ten things witches look for in a wizard." Ron read it out loud and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't listen to this. If you want to know the top ten things then ask your dad or me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but that's not the kind of bedtime story I came up for."

Sam sat up, looking interested, and stuffed the magazine back under his bed as Ron handed it back to him.

"Are you gonna tell us more about dad when he was at school?"

"Dad been telling you old school stories again?"

"Nope," Eli said as he threw himself down onto his bed with a bounce and got under the covers. "Mum told us last night about Easter holiday in yours and dad's first year."

"Oh, you mean stories about your dad and grandpa Severus."

"Yeah. Know any good ones?"

Ron sat on the edge of Sam's bed and thought for a few moments.

"I guess I know one I could tell, from our second year. But I only know what he told me."

"Tell us uncle Ron!"

"Tell us!"

"Only if you promise to go to sleep."

"Promise."

"Ok, then. Well, it was the summer. Your mum told you then about the Muggles your dad lived with? How much?"

"They were mean," Eli supplied.

"Real mean," Sam finished. "But that's really all she said."

"Well, that's all I'll say then."

Using his hands to animate the story, Ron started with, "It was the summer between first and second year, and Professor Snape had been sent to check up on your dad, because Headmaster Dumbledore had owled him, but he hadn't owled back."

* * *

The heat was unbelievable, and Severus had been forced to stop in a phone booth in Little Whinging to cast a spell to banish his black robes, and place a cooling spell on his long, dark shirt and pants. He cursed softly that Dumbledore had sent him on such a pointless mission. It wasn't bad enough that he'd had to put up with the brat and his failing potions and explosive detentions, but now his private vacation time was being breached as well.

Severus strode with purpose down the sidewalk of the distinctly Muggle neighborhood towards Four Privet Drive, determined to be sure the brat was alive and bratty as ever, and then return to his blissfully free day of reading Potions journals and not thinking about Potter whatsoever. He had no idea that this was not to be as he approached the house, identical to all the others, with a precisely trimmed lawn and perfectly trimmed flower garden. It figured that Petunia would keep her property so neat, she always was a neat freak. Just the thought of the pretentious woman left a sour taste in his mouth.

Steeling himself for what was sure to be an encounter that would set his nerves on edge and give him a headache, Severus rapped smartly on the front door and waited. And waited. And waited. After two minutes, another set of knocking, and another three minutes, he scowled and noted that the car in the driveway was gone. Probably on vacation and the Headmaster's aging owl had not delivered his messages to the brat at all. Figures, just another mission that had turned out to be a waste of his time.

Severus descended the three stairs from the door and was partway down the walk when he heard running water in the back, possibly from a hose, and what sounded like a whimpering dog. Just the neighbors in the back, he tried to tell himself, but his curiosity was peaked nonetheless, and he let himself in the side gate, being sure that nobody had seen him lest they call the police. That was the last thing he needed at the moment.

There was another whimper just before Severus came around the edge of the house to find Potter kneeling down next to the garden hose, trying to wash blood off of the palm of his hand.

"Ahh... darn it." The boy said to himself in response to a sting of pain. Severus watched him silently for a moment more as he took in his condition. He had a bloody gash on his forehead which appeared to be covered in dirt and congealed already, as well as several bruises on his left arm.

"Potter?"

Harry startled at the sudden voice of the unexpected visitor and dropped the hose as he jumped up from his position on the grass and stood straight. Severus was impressed with the sudden respect he had just received, or perhaps it was fear, he noted as he came closer and saw the boy's eyes.

"What has happened?"

"Fell," Harry said, eyes never leaving his Professor's.

"From where?"

Harry motioned behind him to where he knew the ladder lay from where he had been thrown into it when he had failed to clean the gutters to uncle Vernon's satisfaction.

"And what were you doing on a ladder?"

"Threw a Frisbee on the roof." Another monotone answer as his eyes stared hard into the Potion Master's.

"I see."

Severus looked to Harry's still bleeding hand and asked, "Where are your guardians? Why are they not tending to you?"

"On vacation," Harry said on automatic.

"Without you?"

"It was to Southend-On-The-Sea to see Aunt Marge. She doesn't have room for everyone to come. Only my aunt and uncle sir."

"And your cousin?"

"He's still at school sir. Summer school."

Severus waved his wand and a thick handkerchief appeared from thin air. He handed it to Harry who quickly wrapped it around his dripping hand and bit his lip.

"Am I to understand you are staying here alone Potter?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"Well, twelve's the legal age in the Muggle world sir, to be left alone at home I mean. And aunt and uncle have only been gone a day." Harry tried to stare dead into his Professor's eyes, hoping he knew little about the Muggle world and wouldn't catch the lie.

"This is unacceptable Potter. You will come with me to have your injuries tended to."

Before Harry could say anything Professor Snape had gripped his arm and he felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs as they began to spin. Only a moment later they appeared in a busy waiting room someplace Harry knew had to be magical with the manner of people that were about.

"Sir?"

"This is St. Mungo's, the wizarding hospital of London. Sit. Now." Harry sat in the chair that was nearest him and watched miserably as his Professor went up to the window to speak to a nurse clad in white, supposedly to admit him and have him seen about his injuries.

What was going to happen when Snape figured out that he was lying? He would take him back to the Dursley's and by then they'd be home from getting ice cream. They'd taken Dudley because aunt Petunia said he'd been ‘traumatized' by the scene he'd witnessed and needed cheering up. Harry knew better though, as Dudley had been the one who'd snuck up the ladder when Harry'd gone inside to get uncle Vernon to inspect his work. Dudley had thrown a few handfuls of leaves and garbage into the gutters and then laughed as his father came down the ladder and tossed Harry into it.

Harry looked down to his ripped shirt. It had been the only one he had left without holes or tears in it, and now it was ripped at the collar and down near the bottom hem where he'd been grabbed.

Snape came over, looking irritated and stood in front of Harry. "It will be some time until you will be seen. They are backed up and are short handed."

"Yes sir," Harry said, keeping his eyes averted and holding his injured hand, injured palm facing up. It had already bled through the handkerchief, and Harry wondered if he would be in trouble for ruining his Professor's handkerchief as well.

Harry tried to keep his mouth clamped shut, despite the questions he wanted to ask about the various ailments that people seemed to have around him, such as the enormous fish latched onto some man's head, or the woman with purple hands, or the child that was completely green from head to toe, including his hair.

After they'd been sitting for nearly twenty minutes, Harry trying desperately not to fidget so as not to irritate the man next to him even more, a nurse called them back to a small room and told Harry to sit on the bed before leaving.

Harry looked at the unnaturally tall bed with no sheets or blanket and wondered how in the world he was going to get up there with his injured hand. A quick look around showed no step stool, and he bit his lip anticipating the trouble he'd be in when the nurse came back with the doctor. He heard an irritated sigh behind him and turned to realize that Professor Snape was still in the room with him.

Before Harry knew what was happening, and before he'd even had a chance to flinch back at the sudden movement, Snape had caught him up under the arms and lifted him onto the bed. He was just giving an astonished Harry a look that clearly read, ‘not a word to anyone' when the door opened and a healer came in with a teal shirt and pants with a golden Snitch pattern.

"What seems to be the problem then?"

Harry held up his hand and the healer looked at it carefully before also examining the gash in his head.

"Take a tumble lad?"

"Down a ladder," Snape clarified from where he stood with his arms crossed behind the healer.

The healer raised a brow but at seeing who had spoken didn't say anything. Weird, Harry thought. Is the healer afraid of him too?

In just a few minutes the two gashes had been healed and the healer had rubbed a cream on Harry's other bruises on his arm. "Those should be gone by morning," the healer said with a smile. "Try not to climb any more ladders this summer kiddo."

"Yes sir," Harry said, and pushed himself down off the bed, glad that he no longer needed Professor Snape's help.

Ten minutes later, after watching a nurse fill out some paperwork, Professor Snape and Harry reappeared in Little Whinging in the back yard.

"I cannot allow you to stay here by yourself," Snape informed him in an irritated tone.

"I expect you to be back here in five minutes with all of your things."

"Where will I go sir?" Harry asked, astonished that his lie was going to make it possible to get away from the Dursleys for at least a little while.

"Assuming they are amenable, I will take you to the Weasley's home until such time as your relatives return from vacation."

Having to resist the urge to jump for joy, Harry ran into the house, jiggled the lock to the cupboard under the stairs until it clicked open like he knew it would, and then pulled out his trunk of school things. He was back outside in less than two minutes.

"And your familiar Mr. Potter?"

"My owl is already at the Burrow sir. I sent her a few days ago."

"I see. Grip my arm then."

Harry hesitated, but then did as he was told, and he and his things were gone.

* * *

Your dad told my mom and dad that his aunt and uncle were going to be on vacation for the rest of the summer, and he got to stay with us until he went back to Hogwarts. It ended up being a pretty decent summer thanks to Professor Snape, but we'd never say that back then, Ron finished, noting that Eli was asleep.

"Dad's uncle threw him around?" Sam whispered with some seriousness.

Ron gave him a serious look. "I don't know if you're supposed to know that or not. It's best not to say anything to Eli when he wakes up tomorrow if he doesn't remember that part of the story."

"You can trust me uncle Ron," Sam said, and Ron tussled his hair before turning the light out. "I know I can. Wouldn't have told you if I couldn't. Now go to sleep before your mum and dad have my hide for keeping you up so late."

"K. Night uncle Ron."

Ron made his way down the stairs and out to the shed in the back yard where Harry tinkered with something on the workbench.

"Nearly done with that thing yet?" he asked in lieu of a greeting.

Harry looked up and grinned. "Not nearly. Going to be up half the night finishing it. Not every day my godson turns 20 now is it?"

"Not every day he moves in with a girl either?"

Harry raised a brow. "Yeah, didn't see that one coming this early. He only moved out last year into his own flat."

Ron shrugged. "You and Ginny got your own flat at twenty."

"We were married though."

Ron grinned. "You know Ted. Quite the lady's man you've raised there Mr. Potter. Besides, I think he mentioned something to Hermione about wedding bells sometime in the near future."

Harry stopped what he was doing and leaned on the workbench. "That rascal. Can't even tell his own godfather first?

Ron grinned. "Cheer up mate. Hermione's persistent, remember? Bet he said it to make her stop pestering him."

With a shake of his head Harry said, "Saw your silhouette up in the boy's room. They rope you into telling a story?"

"St. Mungo's, 2nd year."

"Hm... come help me with this dratted thing."

As Ron came over to help, Harry pondered on the incident himself. He supposed it was inevitable that his children find out about the Dursley's eventually, but he'd hoped to forestall their questions until later. It seemed they were going to hear them now however since Ginny had interested them in how Severus had adopted him when she'd told them that first story the other night.

Maybe he'd talk to them some tomorrow when Teddy came over. That boy always did enjoy hearing stories of his old school days. Yes, he had just the one to tell too.