“I do apologise, Professor,” Amelia Bones said into the silence that followed Harry’s statement.  She shot Albus an accusing glare as she continued, “I was led to believe that Albus had told you about my… particular expertise in the area of blood magic as it pertains to wards.  If you will, please take a seat and I will attempt to explain exactly why I was brought here and what I wish to do.”

Madam Bones made a show of holstering her wand, and took one of the large, squishy seats that Albus preferred, which sat in front of the banked fire.  When Severus remained standing, she raised her hand, palm up, in a placating gesture.  “Please, Professor.” 

Magic still swirled impatiently in him, seeking an outlet. He ran a shaking hand over his face, trying to collect himself and to contain the pain that still clouded his judgment.  Madam Bones, obviously noticing his distress, said kindly, “Professor, please indulge the boy.  A little magic wouldn’t go amiss, I believe.”

Severus gave a curt nod and without preamble, cast Scourgify.  Papers and feathers swirled in the air before floating to the Headmaster’s desk in a not quite neat pile and his magic calmed enough to allow Severus to begin reconstructing his Occlumency shields.  He sank bonelessly into the chair as his nervous energy gave out.

Harry, who had held onto the ridiculous feather from the Phoenix, softly exclaimed, “Brilliant!”

Severus shot the boy a repressive glance, and then directed his attention to Albus.  The man seemed extremely pleased with himself, considering that his omission to Severus had been noted by none other than the Head of the Auror Corps.  Dumbledore met Snape’s gaze, becoming suddenly sober as he realised his triumph had been noticed by his spy.  With Severus’ attention still directed at Albus, Snape said, “I do apologise for my reaction, Madam, you can understand, I hope, from whence my confusion came.”

“Of course,” she said rising from her seat and began pacing in front of the fire, her body causing the light from the fireplace to fluctuate and her shadow to grow bigger and smaller in a sickening way.  Severus closed his eyes as she spoke, “Professor, I studied blood magicks as used in the Americas and Asia as my thesis project.  Albus brought me here to not only ensure that Mrs Potter’s manipulation of your blood oath was, in fact, effective, but also to quell any rumours that might occur due to your past affiliations.  As you know, young Potter here has a godfather.  Normally, that situation wouldn’t warrant my involvement in the matter, but since the godfather in question is incarcerated in Azkaban as a Death Eater, and since Albus assures me the boy is…important… if You Know Who returns, it is imperative that we establish your claim without any question.   I have no intention, Professor, of using any of this information against you in any way.”

She stopped close enough to Severus that he smelled her dusty, floral-scented fragrance.  When he opened his eyes she said, “If you will allow me, I will cast a series of diagnostic spells that will give me the information I need, and you and Mr Potter can be on your way.” She slid her wand back into her palm.  “I do believe you said you both had an appointment later this afternoon…”

Severus considered her statement for a moment.  If her intent were truly what she stated, and since his own traitorous mouth had ensured he would not be shot of Potter anytime in the near future, he saw no reason not to allow her access.  He finally said, “Very well.  Just get it over with quickly.”

Madam Bones let out a pent-up breath before moving to stand before him.  “If you would, Professor and Mr Potter, remain completely still whilst I cast these spells.  They will connect your magic, young Harry’s magic, and any blood magicks enacted upon both of you to a particular colour of the spectrum.”

She drew a deep breath and then began the first of several incantations.  White light washed over him and Severus saw it coalesce around him.  After a second spell, a greenish-black miasma formed over Severus’ left arm where the Dark Mark had been cast.  A third, azure light came after the third spell casting.  Tendrils of the blue light covered Severus and then it seemed to seek out the boy.   A strong filament of pure blue light appeared to bind their energies together.  Madam Bones, whose eyes had shut during the last spell, opened them, wand still held aloft.  After moments of observation she said, “That’s odd.  Do you see this Albus?”

The Headmaster’s troubled gaze followed where she was pointing, the same ugly green-black gash that had shown over Severus’ Dark Mark had formed over Potter’s scar.  It pulsated in its own rhythm, seemingly separate from the harmony of both Severus’ and the boy’s magic.  The Headmaster finally answered, “I don’t believe I have ever seen anything quite like it in one who wasn’t Marked...”

“I think I can begin to see why you believe He might be not quite as dead as he seems.”  Madam Bones said as she leaned closer to Potter.  The boy began to squirm before obviously remembering he was to remain motionless and so he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, apparently to still himself. After observing the magic for some moments, Madam Bones then turned her intense gaze to Severus.  “In spite of this anomaly, Professor, I will, if asked, report that your claim on the boy is legitimate, and that you have the necessary wards in place to protect him more than adequately.  Your magic is joined with his as it should be.  As your bond grows stronger, the wards will become nearly unbreakable.  Mrs Potter truly did craft a thing of great beauty when she utilised the blood bond from your childish whims.”

The Auror cancelled the spell with a small flourish of her wand and a quiet Finite.  Severus stiffly inclined his head towards the Headmaster.  “If that is all, Headmaster, I think Mr Potter might be in need of a small break before we go to the infirmary.”

“Yes, my boy,” Albus said absently, his attention obviously focused inward for the moment. “Madam Pomfrey is expecting you both soon.  We will meet later to discuss the particulars of settling Mr Potter into his new life… and your duties as well.” 

As soon as Severus stood, Potter rose also, taking his hand as if it were the most natural thing to do.  It took Severus aback to realise that he was no longer alone, and would not be solitary for some time.  He wondered fleetingly of what the boy’s presence would do to his greater role as spy, if the Dark Lord did, in fact, return.  He dismissed the thought before it fully formed, sure that it was one of the many subjects to which Albus had alluded when he had dismissed them. 

Severus and Harry made their way through the halls with little incident.  If any student thought it odd that the feared Potions Master would have a small child attached to his hand, they did not give voice to their concerns for the child’s welfare.  He wasn’t well-liked outside of Slytherin and for good reason. He did not foster friendly camaraderie with the students under his care, simply because it was impractical.  A friend could not berate a student for nearly blowing up a classroom quite as well as a hated professor could.  Not that he would actually consider befriending most of the dunderheads that passed through his class.  As a result, his demeanour did much to ensure that his potions classes had very few injuries and no deaths since he had taken over, with the added bonus that he and Potter could make it to their dungeon abode with little fuss and no interference.  

The only pause they had was when another Weasley, the oldest this time, smiled and waved at the little boy.  Potter responded by crowding his little body closer to Severus, nearly making both of them trip.  Snape said, more sharply than was strictly needed, “I’m sure you have better things to do than to accost small children in the hallways, Mr Weasley.  No doubt you haven’t even started on your Potions essay.  It is due at the end of next week, as I recall.”

The Gryffindor, to his credit, merely smiled cheekily and went on his way, heading in the direction of the Library.  Severus thought he knew his students too well sometimes. 

Potter waited by the door as Severus whispered the password to his quarters.  He supposed he would have to set his wards to admit the boy without a password.  He was well aware that young children didn’t have the mental capacity to remember large amounts of information.  There were several wards that Severus could choose from that would be appropriate to admit a small child whilst keeping the world at large at bay.  He would also have to ensure the wards were only one way.  He would not have Potter running amok at all hours, especially not after the boy’s identity was revealed to the student body.  As ridiculous as it seemed, the small boy who still clutched Fawkes’ feather as if it were a talisman or good omen, was still hated in some corners of the wizarding world, and Severus knew not all the hatred emanated from Slytherins.

There was also the small matter of Potter’s schooling.  Severus knew he would not be able to give the boy the attention he deserved in his lessons.  Since most wizarding families hired tutors or schooled their children themselves, and the small Hogsmeade School was out of the question for security reasons, another alternative would have to be arranged.  He supposed he would have to rely on his mother to take the boy to the primary school in Cokeworth, which would be less of a danger to the boy since most of Snape’s former brethren would never expect Severus to trust Muggles with the boy’s education.  The boy would have to Floo back and forth between Hogwarts and Spinner’s End. It would be a hardship on them all, but education was too vital an area of development to ignore

He would send an owl to his mother to get her input.  He would also send some funds and the child’s clothing size so she might purchase the necessary uniform and such so the boy would be able to attend school as soon as Severus was able to establish guardianship of the boy in the Muggle world.  He would have to retain some sort of legal representative, one who dealt in both Muggle and Wizarding law.  Perhaps Lucius would be able to recommend someone.  Severus resolved to fire call him this evening, whilst of course, omitting the reason for his need, when he asked Malfoy.

“Sir?” the boy asked, effectively slicing through Snape’s thoughts with his childish lisp. 

Severus stopped his absent pacing, fixing, what he hoped was a benevolent expression on his harsh features. “Yes, Mr Potter?”

The boy took a small step back, both lips sucked into his mouth, his face tilted down.  He clasped his hands in front of him, fingers tangled together before asking, “I was wondering… I mean… when do I have to go home?”

Noting the boy’s choice of words, Severus considered his options.  The bald truth, while it would be expedient, might not yield the calmest of scenes, and indeed, might cause more harm than good.  Snape motioned the boy to sit on the same sofa he had occupied that morning.  The boy complied, his legs sticking off the rough horsehair surface, looking at Severus owlishly.  Snape sat in the same chair he had occupied that morning, his posture straight. He began, “Mr Potter…”

“Why do you call me that?” the boy asked, sucking his bottom lip in, worrying it with his little white teeth.  “I mean… it’s my name, but… well, no one ever calls me that.”

“Very well then, Harry…”  Severus paused for effect.

“Aunt Petunia calls me Worthless Freak, but only at home.  When we’re out, she says my name just like you said it, like it tastes bad in her mouth,”   Potter added.  “Uncle Vernon just calls me Boy sometimes, but mostly he just sla-- never mind.”  The boy clamped his lips shut, alarm crossing his features as he cut the supply of information off.  Severus would get to the bottom of just what Lily’s beastly family had done to her son. 

“What did your Uncle…Vernon, was it?  What did he do, Harry, that caused you to quit speaking so suddenly?” Severus felt his patience, always thin, fraying even more under the onslaught of useless information.

The boy shrugged.  “Nothing, really.  They just say… I’m not to talk about what goes on at their house, or I’ll be sent into Care with all the other horrid, freakish children that tell lies on their families.”

Severus digested this for a moment before saying, “Harry, how would you feel about never having to return to them again?”

The boy’s face crumpled and sudden tears threatened to spill from his bright eyes.  “Oh.  But---but I didn’t say anything!  I don’t want to be sent away.  Please, Mister… Sev’rus… don’t let them get rid of me!  Care is for bad little kids and I’ve been good, I promise I have!”

As much as it galled Severus to utter, he reassured the boy, “You have acted in an exemplary manner, Mr…Harry, under the most trying of conditions.”

Potter remained dejected, “I’m sorry, Sir, I guess… I am ex-expellery.  I’ll try harder, though, I really, really will.”

“Pot-- Harry,” The boy sniffled loudly before he ran his pullover’s sleeve under his nose.  Severus pulled a handkerchief out of his robes, and brandished it under Potter’s nose.  “Don’t do that.”

Potter shot a look up to Severus, and the Potions Master made note of the glittering tracks of tears coursing down the boy’s face.  He settled stiffly beside Potter on the couch, unsure exactly how to proceed.  His own personal history had few examples to show him how to comfort anyone, much less such a small creature who was obviously in distress.   Severus’ own mother had abandoned giving him false hope of the gentleness of life when he was fairly young.  Severus settled for placing a wooden-feeling hand on the boy’s shoulder.  “Harry, the word is ‘exemplary’ and it means you’ve done… very well… given the situation that Pet—in which your aunt placed you.”

“Yeah but…,” Potter said as he slid out from under Severus’ hand.  “I know I can be horrid.  Sometimes when… I get upset or scared… things happen.”

“What sorts of things?”

“Well,” Potter licked his lips, obviously deliberating whether to trust Severus or not. He finally said, “The reason Uncle Vernon told Aunt Petunia to get rid of me was that I got in trouble at school. I-I didn’t mean to… It’s just that Dudley and Piers were Harry Hunting and I knew I’d get clobbered for sure if they caught me… erm… cos I did better on the spelling test than Dudley did, and well… somehow I ended up on the roof of the school.  I mean one minute I was running and the next, I felt this twisty thing in my tummy and head… and … anyway, I was just up there.  It was brilliant, really.”

Good Lord in Heaven!  The boy had Apparated at such a young age, Severus thought as he schooled his features to calm acceptance.  It would do neither of them any good if the boy saw just how very impressed Severus was at the story.  He finally said, “That, young Potter, is what we wizards call accidental magic.”

“I’m not a wizard.” The boy picked up the garish feather which he had put aside during his narrative.  “Am I?”

“I thought you understood this morning, when I told you how your mother and father were wizards, that you understood you were one also.”  Severus attempted a mock teasing tone, one that fell flat as the boy looked away, his shoulders once again hunching over, his figure shrinking. 

“Okay,” Potter finally said, before adding, “Can I have a drink of water, Mr… Sev’rus?”

“You may. Hold out your hands,”  Severus commanded as he summoned a small tumbler from his largely unused bar, a gift from Lucius on the first anniversary of his employment at Hogwarts.  He cast Augamenti as the heavy glass plunked firmly into the boy’s small hands.  Harry barely held onto the crystal, but managed to after flash of naked terror crossed his features.  After the boy had schooled his expression to one of blank calm, Severus added, “And, P—Harry, my name is simply Severus.”

The boy giggled at little frantically at that, saying, “That’s a silly name, like Simple Simon, only it’s Simply Severus!”

Severus’ ire rose until he remembered making similar juvenile remarks before his own humour had been quashed by grinding poverty and his father’s brutal temper.  He finally answered, “And you are a silly boy.  Now, we’ll have a small lunch before we go to our second meeting of the morning.  You barely ate breakfast, as I remember.”

As Severus rose to summon Merry he thought he heard the boy mutter, “Two meals in one day!”

&*&*&

They finished eating, and at Severus’ command, Potter procured a diversionary toy from his room, the ridiculous dragon which he had apparently dubbed Simon after their talk before lunch.  

The walk to the infirmary was punctuated by the boy’s obvious curiosity and awe at the nearly sentient portraits and other commonplace wizarding artefacts which littered the hallways.  More students were about and had obviously caught wind of the boy that was attached to their dour Potions Master.  Severus heard several groups of girls (Hufflepuffs!) coo and giggle as the two passed. Only one group (his own upper year Slytherins, for Merlin’s sake!) ventured more.  Vera Montalvo, a dusky-skinned half-blood of Spanish descent, waved at Harry and offered, “If you ever need any help with your cute little boy, Professor, you can count on me.”

That proclamation was uttered with a becoming blush, an emphasis of her décolletage with a slender hand, and a disturbing fluttering of lashes that left Severus at once confused and irritated.  He resolved then and there to never have need of the girl’s offered services. “Is there something wrong with your eyes, Miss Montalvo?  You seem to be blinking entirely too much.  Perhaps a trip to the infirmary is in order, or perhaps the library, seeing that your Transfiguration essay is due tomorrow and I have it on good authority that you haven’t even started it yet.”

The girls behind her pushed and giggled as the Seventh year’s heightened colour mottled and she shot him a wounded look.  She hurried off, to the derision of her schoolmates, who remained long enough for Severus to raise his eyebrow and give a downward quirk of his lips.  Once the warning was given, he knew that he had taught them well enough to hurry after their sister in arm; else they would risk detention and docking of points. 

The rest of their journey was uneventful. 

When they reached Poppy’ demesne, Harry asked, “Sev’rus, what are we going to do here?  More wizard stuff?”

Severus opened the double doors with a flick of his wand, a trick that he knew from experience that would produce awe in the young and uninitiated, and smirked as the boy dutifully exclaimed, “Cool!”

“We are here to see Madam Pomfrey, the school mediwitch, who will be giving both of us,” Damn Albus Dumbledore! “Medical exams.”

Potter stopped, digging in his heels against the polished, hardwood floors.  “No!  Aunt Petunia… she says that I’m not to go to the doctor! She says… I’m a freak and they’ll take me away and do all sorts of painful stuff to me like they did on that one ET thing in that film!”

Severus halted, leaning down in front of Potter.  He’d had enough of the lies and bullying of Petunia Evans for one day.  “Look around, Mr Potter.”

The boy, even in his state of panic, looked around owlishly.  Severus continued, “That vile woman, your aunt, is not present, is she?”

“No, sir.”  The boy’s breath hitched as he answered.

“She did, in fact, leave you on my mother’s doorstep with little care about how you would be received, did she not?” Potter nodded again with a little less conviction.  “Therefore, I am now your guardian, and I can assure you that at no point will I ever allow anyone to harm you, ET or no ET.  Do you understand me?”

The words knocked the edge of the boy’s panic, and as he finally gave another gulping sough of breath.  “You… you mean you’re going to keep me?”

“I suppose so, since your mother saw me fit enough to do so, even after…” Severus cut off that painful train of thought before he could voice it. “Yes, and furthermore, I do believe I am obliged to, since you won’t relinquish my hand from your grip.”

“Wha…,” the boy began, then as Severus shook their joined hands slightly, Potter shot him a cheeky grin and said, “Oh, sorry, Sir.”

“It’s no imposition, Harry.  Now come along so that we might get this over with.  I have a great deal of business to attend after we leave here.”

Potter willingly followed him.

Poppy greeted them from her office, her starched white apron gleaming in the lights falling through the mullioned windows as she bustled out into the infirmary.  “Hello, young man, and you too, Mr Potter.”

Severus battled the impulse to roll his eyes heavenward as she took his arm, leading him toward an area of the room cordoned off by clean white curtains on a metal framework.   “I see the Headmaster has finally found a way to get you into my clutches.”

Potter stuck closely to Severus’ side as the nurse began her bustling, bidding them to sit on separate exam tables. “Now, Harry, I’m going to be doing some magic around you to get a good idea of your general health.  It won’t hurt, I promise.”

Harry shot the mediwitch a dark look, his brows drawn down fiercely. He remained next to Severus’ table.  “They said that when I got my jabs for school.”

“Well, I can see you’re a natural sceptic,” she smiled at the boy, even as she manouevered Severus onto the closest exam table.  “So, what I will do is cast the tests on Severus so you can see he’s not in any discomfort, and then I will do the same to you.  Will that be alright with you?”

The boy clutched his ridiculous plushie closer, but gave a jerky nod of assent.  Poppy turned her full attention on Severus, saying sotto voce, “Don’t pull your usual nonsense, Severus.  You have an example to set with little Harry here.”

Severus bit his tongue to keep from giving her a blast of the vituperation she so richly deserved.  He finally said through gritted teeth, “Yes, Madam.  I am well aware of my role in this little theatre you and Albus managed me into.”

“Good.”  She patted his shoulder then quickly gave him a slight shove.  “Lie down and get comfortable.” 

She pulled a quill and a roll of parchment out of her voluminous apron pocket, and set them on the bedside table.  Once everything was arranged, she cast the spell, a soft white light issued from her wand and covered her patient’s body,  “Now, Harry, the quill there will write down what the spell ‘sees’.”  She turned to the boy, admonishing Severus with a tart, “Just relax, Severus. It’s only a little diagnostic spell.”

Severus was distressed to note that the spell had changed colours over his hands and the quill’s scratching picked up speed as the spell did its work.  He tried to close his eyes, but the tension in him rose.  Suddenly he felt something soft against his hand.  He craned his neck to see the blasted plushie had been placed against it.  The boy’s wide green gaze met Severus’, and the boy said, “Simon says you might need him more than I do.  Cos you look really scared, Sev’rus.”

Poppy covered a snort of amusement with a cough. “I think you’re right, Harry.  Severus is very afraid of me.  Isn’t that the oddest thing you’ve ever heard?”

The boy smiled shyly back at her and nodded.  Poppy motioned him over to the other exam table and settled him onto it with the ease of experience.  She laid out her tools and cast the same spell.  “Now all we have to do is wait, you two.  I’ll be back in ten minutes to check on you both.”

&*&*&

The boy’s spell finished first and Severus was heartened to realise that, while he had obviously been neglected and emotionally abused, he was relatively healthy.  He was slightly myopic and had a good deal of astigmatism, but those problems could be dealt with relatively easily.  Potter did show evidence of a few past injuries that were troubling but the boy refused to speak about how they had happened, beyond, “I was clumsy.”

Poppy told the boy, “Well, now that you’re all done, perhaps you would like to use those colours and that paper I have set out for you over there.”

She pointed to an area outside the curtains and watched as Harry sat down to draw, his tongue between his teeth.  She turned to Severus, her expression as he could remember it being since the war.   She sat on the table as she looked over his results.  Once done, she asked, “How long have you been dosing yourself with willow bark?”

Severus considered remaining mute, but answered, “A few months, and perhaps as long as a year.”

“Describe you pain.”  She ordered, shuffling the parchment to a new section and rolling the top as she went.   “Is it sharp, dull, grinding, stabbing? Do you ever feel feverish around your joints?”

“Poppy…”

Pomfrey said just as acerbically, “Severus…  just tell me.”

“My pain, most days is manageable, and yes, sometimes my joints are hot to the touch, especially in my hands and knees.”

Poppy sighed heavily, “How often were you tortured by that madman, Severus?”

He bristled.  “That is beyond the scope of this exam, as you damn well know, Poppy.   I refuse to talk about that time.”

“How often, Severus?”  She placed her hand over his and patted it.  “You know this information will go no further.”

“Often enough.” 

“Severus…” she warned.

Snape gritted his teeth, loathing how he felt when he had to talk about that time.  “Once or twice a week from the time I was nineteen to just before the war ended.”

Poppy looked as if she might cry, her placid professionalism cracking only briefly before she mastered herself.  “Well, dear, there’s no easy way to tell you this, and you have never been one for sugar-coating, so I suppose I’ll just blurt it out.   You have a particularly aggressive case of rheumatoid arthritis that seems to be made worse by the severe nerve damage from whatever curses that mad bastard you followed sent your way.  There’s really nothing I can do for it but give you stronger pain medication.”

She rose, once again assuming her calm demeanour.  “Eventually, you’ll need assistance for your day to day tasks, but for now, I’m going to prescribe laudanum for you, and I will cast a monitoring spell to ensure you’ve taken it, young man.  There’s no sense in you suffering needlessly, especially now that you’ve got a little boy who depends on you.”

She strode to the curtain, her back to him before she said, “I’m sorry, Severus.  I wish I had better news for you.”

It was only after she left that he realised he still had the damned plushie, and that he held it clutched to his chest.