"You know he only bought you presents because he had to."

Harry turned to find Calen leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. It was the first time he'd come to see Harry in his room, though he was careful not to step over the threshold.

"Did you want to play a game?" Harry asked. He picked up the stack of cards he'd gotten in his stocking that sat beside his pile of new books on the desk.

"As if Potter."

"You don't have to call me that you know," Harry said. He knew he would agitate him by staying calm, and while he didn't want to agitate him, he also didn't want to get angry, that never turned out well (expect for that time in the alley in London he reminded himself).

"Call you what?"

"Potter. My name is Harry."

"But you're still a Potter. Notice that? When he found out I was his son we went to the Ministry that day to change my name."

"Was there a reason you came by?" Harry asked. He could feel his face heating up. He set the stack of cards back down and pulled over the Potion's text he'd been reading.

"No, no reason Potter. " With emphasis on his last name again, Calen smirked. "What happened to you out there in London anyway?"

Harry ignored him but Calen kept on. "I mean, really, where was your family, you know, your real family, the ones that cared about you?"

No answer.

"Noticed you didn't get any presents from them. Was it all a rouse so you could come here and get loaded up with gifts for Christmas from a rich family?"

No, it's all a rouse so I can take over the world, thought Harry snarkily and then wondering where that thought had come from. He stood up, grabbed his new black jacket and red gloves and moved past Calen. When he was down the hall, without turning his back he swished his wand and had the satisfaction of knowing the door had just closed and locked and probably hit his brother in the arse.

Harry made his way down through the house and to the front door, so mad that he forgot to tell his father he was going out.

It was cold out and the ground was covered in snow, but the chill didn't bother him like it did on the streets, because now he had warm clothes and shoes and hope filling him, even if he was mad at his brother. Why hadn't his father taken him to the Ministry yet? He said Harry would be staying there from now on, and he'd gotten Christmas presents and clothing and books, but that didn't mean he'd been fully accepted. Maybe his father didn't want him to have the last name of Snape.

Harry sighed as he headed in the direction of the frozen lake, but veered off half way there to investigate the edge of the forest. He liked being outdoors and had always wanted to explore the Forbidden Forest, but it was ominous and forbidden and there were too many rumors of child eating monsters. This looked like an ordinary enough forest though. Maybe he could just walk in a little ways and see what was in there. In any case, if he got eaten by a werewolf or something else, he didn't think his father would mind too much, since he was still just a Potter, and he knew for certain that Calen wouldn't care.

Without thought to where he was wandering, Harry made a few circles, though he could always still see the edge of the tree line where the white snow shone brightly, and in the distance he could see the house.

It was quiet and peaceful out here and he liked it. He liked the feeling of being judged and beholden to nobody, and felt his anger slowly ebb away, though was dismayed to find it replaced by doubt. Maybe this was all a dream and he was still unconscious somewhere at Privet Drive, or even worse, it wasn't a dream and he never really would find a place here with his father and brother. Yes, that would be worse, to be in the midst of them and never have a place amongst them.

"Harry."

Harry turned quickly to find his father behind him. He noted that while he was wearing a longsleeve shirt, he had no coat or gloves.

"Sir?"

"I remember asking you to let me know when you leave the house."

"I'm sorry sir," Harry said. He couldn't detect any anger in his father's voice, but typically doing something wrong meant an adult was going to thrash him, so he felt on edge.

"Calen said you left and I followed your tracks. I thought you might have been lost by the way you went in circles."

"Was just thinking," Harry said.

"About London?" his father hazarded, and Harry scrunched his nose up and looked at the ground, hands in his pockets. No, not about London.

They were quiet for a few moments and Harry registered that his father didn't seem irritated at his lack of a response this time. Finally he looked up and asked, "Do you want me?"

The man seemed taken aback. "Want you?"

Harry looked down again.

"As my son? I do."

This brought Harry's eyes up to his again. "Why haven't we gone to change my name then? When you found out about Calen, you went that day. It's been a couple of weeks now, and, and I thought-"

"Harry," he took a few steps forward. "You are my son and I do want you. I heard what you said to Calen a few days ago in the family room, and I want you to know that I do not think more or less of you than I do of him. You were injured and still recovering and I didn't think a journey into London would do you any good. I had intended to take you to the Ministry before our return to Hogwarts."

"Oh." He felt a little foolish now.

"Harry, I- I am still unaccustomed to being a parent. It is not an excuse, but as Calen has found out over the last few months, I am still adjusting to dealing with twelve year old boys."

Harry paused, thought of something to say, thought better of it, and then said it anyway. "Don't you deal with kids every day at school?"

"At Hogwarts I preform the role of teacher and disciplinarian. I am not asked to take the feelings of students into account when I say or do something."

Harry looked at his father's face then and for the first time felt like he was talking to a man, a real human being instead of an unapproachable, foreboding professor. He felt almost like he was talking to August. It was kind of nice.

"You're not so bad when you're not a disciplinarian," Harry said, being careful to enunciate the word so he didn't sound foolish by using it.

"No, I don't suppose so." Severus almost let a smile come to his lips but kept it at bay. Harry wasn't so bad away from school either.

"Lunch will be in an hour, but I have some time before I need to get it started. Would you like to keep walking?"

Harry thought about it and then nodded. "I haven't seen the grounds really yet."

"Then I will give you a tour. This is Dundee Wood. There are no magical creatures here, but there are wildcats and foxes, and a young wizard would be well advised to keep his wand on him while visiting."

Harry nodded and they continued on. They didn't walk very far in terms of distance across the vast property in the hour they had out in the cold, but they did crest a little hill at the edge of the wood that looked out over the frozen lake, and Severus pointed out various features of the land they owned.

Back inside Harry was pleased to find that Calen was nowhere in sight, and went to his room to get the book he'd been looking at before he'd been interrupted. He sat on his soft bed and read for ten minutes before he heard his and Calen's names being called, and went into the hall. Calen came out of his own room and gave Harry a look he couldn't discern, not angry or smug, but not happy either, and they walked downstairs, Harry a few paces behind his brother. In the dining room they found their father setting out three plates and a tray with sandwiches.

"Sorry boys, I was planning on something else but I'm not feeling well."

Calen's head snapped up. "Are you getting sick?" Harry couldn't help but notice the panic that was in his brother's voice.

Severus waved him away. "I'll be fine, just a cold."

Calen gave him a wary look. "Are you sure?"

Their father locked eyes with Calen and then said gently, "I'm sure."

Harry watched the exchange back and forth with some curiosity and wished he knew what it was about and wished he had that sort of connection with their father, and even with Calen. Calen was worried and their father had the ability to calm him with a look and a few gentle words.

Calen watched their father all through lunch and their father worked hard to suppress a few coughs, which Harry really didn't think sounded that bad. Twice Harry had had pneumonia already from being left outside in the cold at the Dursleys and he was surprised he hadn't caught it a third time after being on the streets for almost two weeks. Harry would know if his father's cough sounded like pneumonia.

At dinner Harry helped in the kitchen and Calen continued to keep a close eye on their father, who now looked like he was also nursing a headache with his coughs and sneezes.

"Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" Calen asked cautiously as they ate their rice.

"I will be fine," and he gave Calen another reassuring look, this time in a more stern way that Harry and Calen both knew meant ‘stop asking'.

The next day Calen was still hovering and was not the only one to notice their father was looking worse. He spent most of the day on the couch and Harry insisted on cooking the meals since they'd given the house elf the rest of the Christmas break off.

By the third day when they'd gone down to breakfast, their father wasn't there at all and they went back upstairs to find him in bed.

"I'm fine," he said at Calen's anxious look.

"You're not fine," Calen said stubbornly and Harry had to agree. He could usually take care of his own injuries ok to keep himself alive, but he never really knew what he was doing, and had no idea how to take care of a sick person.

"I may have the wizarding influenza."

Calen crossed his arms. "You should go to St. Mungos."

"It will pass. If it is the influenza it will be over in four days."

"It'll be mostly over in 4 days but you're still gonna be sick."

Severus looked sternly up from the bed at his son and said, "I will be fine," enunciating every word. "There is a potion for the influenza in the stores in the kitchen pantry."

Harry and Calen brought him breakfast and lunch, but by dinner he was feverish and sleeping and not well enough to talk to them.

"This is your fault!" Calen said angrily, rounding on Harry when they checked on him at dinner time.

"What did I do?" Harry was surprised. It's not like he'd snapped his fingers and made him sick.

"If you hadn't have gone off into the woods he wouldn't have gone out looking for you without a coat!"

"And whose fault is it I left my room? Who was taunting me and trying to make me feel bad? Who told him I went out to the woods?"

Calen's face grew hot then and Harry took a step back, preparing to be hit in the hall outside their father's room, but Calen pushed past him angrily and out of sight. Harry went to his room, skipping dinner and sat in his chair, ignoring all of the new things he'd gotten for Christmas that were meant to keep him occupied.

Calen was right, it was his fault. But was just the flu, it couldn't be that bad, could it? And yet Calen seemed very agitated over it. You couldn't die from the wizarding flu could you?

As it turned out, you could die from the wizarding flu if it was bad enough. Harry had spent the evening reading through healers books trying to figure out what his father had come down with and was dismayed to find out that if it didn't clear up by day four, or if his father got too dehydrated, he could indeed die. Calen already knew, apparently he'd read about it before Harry had gotten to the books.

Harry searched the house for Calen the next morning and finally found him in a brewing room under the kitchen (a room he didn't know existed until he found the open door at the back of the pantry leading down the stairs).

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

Calen looked up, irritated. "Nothing you can help with. You've done enough already."

"I just wondered," Harry said.

He was about to climb back up the stairs, but Calen pulled him back with, "I'm trying to make more potion for the flu. We ran out last night."

"Do you know how?" Harry asked.

"OF COURSE I KNOW HOW!" Calen snapped loudly at him. He slammed the spoon he'd been using to stir down on the table.

Harry stared at him. "Look, I'm sorry he's sick, but he chose to go out without a coat on. I didn't make him get sick."

"You make EVERYTHING bad happen," Calen shouted. "Everything bad that happens is YOUR fault! The holiday was ruined because of you, he's sick because of you, my life is messed up because of you!"

"How did I ruin Christmas? You got all kinds of presents."

Calen glared at him now. "You can try to fit in here all you want Potter, but he's my father, not yours. I'm tired of saying it so take a hint. After we went to London we were going to go away on a trip to a lodge, but no, we had to stay and take care of poor sick pathetic Potter, didn't we? And then you stroll in and collect your nice new broom, and presents from August and your friends, and if you're really going to be happy you'll end up killing MY father by the time you get back to Hogwarts! Then I really won't have a parent will I?"

Calen was breathing heavily and Harry was too even though he hadn't been yelling. So that was it, was it? Calen's mom had died and he was sure their father was going to die too. And as much as Harry hated to admit it, it was in part his fault that he was sick.

"Well, so sorry to inconvenience you King Calen, because I wanted a brother and a father and a life like I never had before. So sorry to ruin your trip so that I didn't have to keep sleeping on the frozen ground behind a trash can stuffing newspapers up my shirt so I didn't freeze to death at night. So sorry I came and got Christmas presents for the very first time in my life, and got to eat three meals a day and got to have a room all my own instead of sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs practically on the floor. So terribly sorry to have to come here to get healed because someone told lies to their daddy and got me kicked out of the castle for Christmas so I had to go home and get beaten the second I got off the train. Yeah, that's right," Harry said at the look that had come over Calen's face now, though Harry couldn't distinguish it. It wasn't pity. Maybe it was surprise. "King Calen doesn't get to have it all sometimes. Well guess what, this is the first time in my life I got to have it all, ever. But don't worry, you don't want me here, I'll go back out into the cold. And when your daddy wakes up and feels all better, you can tell him where I am and why I'm not here."

Harry turned and stormed back up the stairs. He ran all the way out of the basement and up to his room on the second floor and grabbed his coat. He put on his new heavy boots and warm hat and mittens and dashed back down the stairs and out the front door. Ok, so maybe he wasn't going to run away, he was no fan of living on the streets, but he definitely felt trapped and hurt and angry all at the same time right then and just wanted out of the house. When he got back he'd just stay to himself in his room and wait until their father got better. Calen seemed pretty capable of handling it, and didn't seem to want Harry around to help take care of him. Harry was pretty sure Calen had stayed up with their father all night last night and wouldn't have let Harry stay in the room without starting a fight.

It wasn't until Harry was a good ways beyond the house that he realized there were warm wet tears streaming down his cheeks. The biting wind was making the tear trails burn and he wiped angrily at them. Why did Calen have to be so selfish anyway? Harry didn't want to steal anything away from him. Why couldn't they just share? It's not like Harry was going to demand 100% of their father's time and money, in fact he'd be happy if he could just have a little of his time and no new things at all. He'd really gotten along quite well up to this point with no money, but he didn't like the thought of continuing on without anyone to care about him. No, he didn't want that at all.

Harry was deep in thought as he roamed around the grounds, at first very fast and eventually losing steam and slowing down. He hadn't paid any mind at all to where he'd gone or how far from the house he was, and didn't notice until he heard a strange cracking noise. Frowning, Harry looked around. It wasn't quite the sound of a twig breaking, and he wasn't in the woods. He turned on the spot at another large cracking sound and spied the house a good distance off, but couldn't spot the frozen lake. It had snowed pretty heavily in the last few days and everything was just a white blur... oh. The lake.

With a third large crack, Harry barely registered that the solid ground was suddenly gone beneath him and that he'd been plunged down into icy water. The shock of it alone made him confused and took his breath away. His arms flailed under the water and his hands tried to find purchase on anything at all that was solid, but he was aware that his boots had filled with water now and were trying to pull him down into the icy depths.

Please please! He thought frantically, and finally his hand found the surface of the ice where he'd broken through and he pulled himself up. Gasping for breath as the sharp cold air met his lungs, Harry scrambled to pull himself up, but the ice continued to crack in the silence of the desolate snowy landscape and break away.

How was it possible to be so tired already, Harry wondered as he struggled just to hold on, let alone pull himself from the water. All his energy had been sapped away by the cold but he was certain he'd only been in it for a few moments, no, had it been minutes, or maybe hours? His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't decide if the water had confused him or if the cold was actually freezing his brain.

"Please," he tried to call out, but it came as barely more than a whisper. "Please please." He willed his father to get up out of bed and come save him, or August to suddenly appear and pull him up, but there was no one.

I'm going to die, Harry thought. I'm actually going to die. This is it. I'll never see my father again, or my friends. I'll never get to sleep in that great warm bed under that warm blanket again. I'll never get to finish that book about the boy and the axe. I'll never be loved.

And then when Harry was about to let go because he couldn't hold on any longer, a hand appeared and grabbed his wrist. Harry tried to focus on whose hand it was but he couldn't, he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Grab on!" The voice sounded like Calen's, but Harry knew Calen was in the basement and even if he weren't, he'd never save him. He couldn't see Calen's face either, just the hand. Harry took hold of it as best as his frozen fingers would allow and struggled to climb up onto the still breaking ice as the hand pulled him up. It seemed like hours trying to fight to get onto the ice, but when he was finally there he did see Calen lying flat on his stomach.

"Don't try to stand up!" Calen warned, and Harry didn't dare disobey. He knew the ice was still cracking and he and Calen could fall back in at any moment.

Calen grabbed Harry's hand and began inching backwards, still on his stomach. It was slow going and Harry tried to help but he felt like he was going to freeze solid. Somehow it was colder here in the snow with the wind than it was in the icy water.

"Come on," Calen urged and finally stood up and tried to get Harry up. They were the same size though and Calen had difficulty getting Harry up. There was no way he could carry him.

Harry felt unaware of what was really going on around him. One moment he was being lifted up in the powdery snow and the next he was stumbling and falling face first to the white world, and the next he was in the entry way to the house and Calen was stripping him naked of his soaking wet clothes.

"So cold," Harry said.

"So stupid," Calen replied and Harry allowed himself to be stood up and lead naked through the house to a downstairs bathroom, where Calen dumped him unceremoniously into a bathtub and began to fill it with what Harry thought was scalding hot water.

"Too hot!" Harry cried out, but Calen slapped his hand away from the tap.

"It's on cold. I can't put hot water in until your body temperature has come up. Leave it alone!"

Harry sat back and Calen disappeared for a few moments, coming back with a clear potion which he dumped into the water. He left again and Harry began to shiver. That was odd, why hadn't he been shivering before?

It felt like hours to Harry before Calen came back again but was only a few minutes. Calen turned the tap up a little and warmer water came out.

"How do you know to do this?" Harry asked.

"I read more than Potion's books," Calen snapped. "Unlike you I want to do better in more than one class."

"You already had him," Harry said. "I was still trying." He didn't elaborate but he didn't need to and he knew it. Calen knew what it was like trying to win a father over, only while Harry was still trying to win a father's approval, Calen was trying desperately hard to keep it.

Calen and Harry sat silently in the bathroom for a long time, Harry gradually warming up and Calen continuing to drain cold water from the bathtub and add slightly warmer water.

"None of your fingers or limbs are turning black," Calen said.

"I'm assuming that's a good thing?"

"Unfortunately."

"I feel awful."

"It's your own fault. Why'd you have to go and walk on the lake? The ice won't be thick enough to walk on for another month and that's only if it's cold enough."

"The snow was covering everything. I've only been on the grounds once. I didn't realize I was on the lake until I went through."

Calen shook his head, looking disgusted.

"Well after today I'm not taking care of you. He's really sick up there, he's hallucinating. I can't keep an eye on him and on you. I'm not a healer yet."

"A healer. Is that what you want to be?"

"Maybe." He left and came back with another potion, this time pink and dumped it into the water too.

"I don't know what I want to be," Harry said.

"Maybe I don't care," Calen said.

Harry looked over, feeling dizzy and tried to focus on his brother's face. "Maybe you didn't have to save me from the frozen lake. But you did."

"So what, I'm not a murderer. I saw you fall through from the kitchen window."

"Huh."

When Calen finally emptied and filled the tub for the last time and then left and came back with a pair of Harry's clothes and his robe and slippers, Harry said, "Thanks. For saving me."

Calen gave him a look and then blew air out of his mouth, sort of like Harry thought a bull might blow air out of his nose, and then left. Harry dressed and weakly made his way to the family room where the decorated tree was still lit up. He collapsed onto the couch and went to sleep, glad that he hadn't died. He was glad he'd had a brother to save him from drowning.