Harry gulped.

Yup, he doesn’t sound happy. Nope, not at all.

“Uh… it’s open…”

The door swung open. Snape stood in the doorway, his hair disheveled. His chest rose up and down in deep breaths. A bead of sweat slid down his temple. Nostrils flared; the light in his eyes grew furious. Harry shrunk back against the desk.

I am so dead.

Snape took long strides towards him – ignoring the others – and bent down, gripping Harry by the shoulders. In one swift movement, Snape pulled him to his feet. Weakness bore down on Harry; the only thing keeping him off the floor was the firm grasp Snape had on him.

“Have you gone stark raving mad?!” shouted Snape, spittle flecking Harry’s face. The man heaved a deep breath through his nose. “I heard everything – the entire school heard. Capturing Umbridge—do you have any idea what the consequences of such an action are? The ministry isn’t going to stand for this and expulsion will be the least of your worries!”

I’m pretty sure by this point the school herself wouldn’t let that happen…

Yeah, I shouldn’t tell him that, though.

“With the way things are now with Fudge, you could very well be thrown into Azkaban for this.”

Fear pressed at Harry’s heart at that thought, but it was quickly eased with a memory, words with power in a deep voice.

‘You will be protected.’

“What in Merlin’s name are you thinking?”

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He knew what he wanted to say to the man – but the words seemed weak to his thoughts and resolve.

“Wait. Excuse my inaccurate wording,” snapped Snape in an angry drawl. “It has become exceedingly evident that you are not thinking at all.”

So… when is he going to start threatening detention?

“Well? Answer me! What is going on in that atrophied brain of yours?”

For a moment, fear settled into Harry’s heart. But as he looked up into the man’s dark eyes, it disappeared. Snape was afraid of something. It was so subtle, but he could see it there in those emotionless eyes – to Harry, he could see what others hadn’t been able to see.

Sweat still adorned the man’s temples. His chest heaved for breath, yet he didn’t stop his tirade. His hair was ruffled, windswept, clinging to the sweat on his face. He hadn’t bothered to move it away. And, perhaps, Harry could faintly feel a hint of trembling in the man’s hands as they clutched his upper arms.

The man ran here. Snape had come to Harry running. An adult had rushed to him, both worried for him and angry at his actions – because said adult feared those actions would bring harm to Harry.

All previous adults in Harry’s life had been merely annoyed because he displeased them in some way or cause trouble and discomfort to them. The Dursleys had been the first and the worst in this category. The other teachers had been less worried about Harry’s welfare and more irritated over the fact he’d broken a rule. Of course, he knew the teachers would be concerned if something actually hurt him.

But this was new to Harry, having an adult worry for him, champion for him – and truly be invested in him.

Was this what a parent was supposed to be like?

It wasn’t a parent who catered to the every whim, like his aunt did for his cousin.

It wasn’t a parent who facilitated their child in being unkind to others, like his uncle did with his cousin.

It wasn’t a parent who slapped him for asking a question. It wasn’t a parent who beat him for waking them up with a nightmare. It wasn’t a parent who starved him, who locked him in a cupboard, who denied him simple pleasures like toys – and who even denied him love.

The cost of being mean and cruel was the same as being kind and loving.

This man was his parent now, his father. Snape had adopted him because he had wanted Harry – they were family. He would not be like Vernon Dursley. He would not be like Petunia Dursley. He would not even be like Sirius –  and nor would he be like James and Lily Potter.

Severus Snape was his own man.

And that man was his father now.

He had a father.

Of course, Harry had known this when he had said yes to the adoption. It was a given. But as Harry had zero experience of what a father was like – a good father – he hadn’t fully understood what it meant.

This was a gift beyond all measure.

Strength filled Harry’s heart. In all his anger and fury, Snape would listen to him. They weren’t the same as before. They weren’t simply teacher and student, with their pasts tainting their futures. They weren’t consumed with hate and old boyhood grudges. No, they had moved on and beyond those old bitter crutches.

He’s my Dad. He’ll listen to me. Because I’m worth something to him.

I have a Dad.

And that made all the difference.

“I wanted to change things,” whispered Harry. He looked up at those dark eyes, hoping the man would understand his feelings. “I didn’t want to stand by and let things happen to me any more. I wanted to act before I was thrown into the center of something – like I always have been in the past.”

Harry inhaled. The hands on his shoulders squeezed lightly. Such a small sign encouraged him onward.

“I refuse to stand by injustice any longer,” said Harry, vigor entering his voice. “If I can do something, then I’m going to make a difference. Because if I don’t, then nothing will ever change. That’s how Vol—uh… the… That’s how the Dark Git was able to cause so much destruction before.”

Ron snorted. Draco appeared torn between disconcerted and amused.

“I can’t go out there and fight in a war, because I’m only fifteen,” said Harry. His tone dropped; he whispered, so only Snape could hear him, “Sometimes I want to, but I’m scared. I know I’m not good enough. I’m not trained. I only escaped this summer because of dumb luck. Cedric was better than me and he didn’t escape.” Harry swallowed, inhaling for a moment. The tension in the man seemed to dissipate. “But I can do this,” he said, looking back up at Snape. “I can rebel against a terrible teacher. She was going to torture Luna with the Cruciatus Curse! An unforgivable curse! Not having a proper defense teacher is exactly what the Dark Git wants – well, I’m not letting him win.”

You’re not going to win, Voldemort. You’ve torn our world apart, a world I should’ve known about since I was young. And for what? You have zero good reasons for this.

You might think we’re just a bunch of kids.

But we’re not going to stand for this.

Strong arms pulled Harry into a firm chest. The comforting scent of herbs filled his senses. He wrapped his arms around the man, clutching the back of his robes with everything he had. Warmth filled Harry’s heart. He’d experienced a touch of this feeling, ever so brief: when Sirius had asked Harry to live with him.

This man cared in the same way.

As Snape released him, Harry caught a glimpse of the others. His face flushed slightly, but he was going to tell them everything eventually anyway. Ron was doing an excellent impression of a trout. It seemed as if Hermione would burst with pride. Draco looked thoroughly confused.

And Luna beamed with delight.

“Very well,” whispered Snape.

Harry’s strength buckled beneath him. There were cries. Snape caught him before he hit the ground.

“Harry,” gasped Snape. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, that’s a long story,” said Harry in an exhausted, soft tone. The man set him against the desk, a hint of worry in those dark eyes. “Something else has happened.”

The man sat down on the floor, adjusting his robes. He gave Harry a determined look.

And so Harry told him.

Snape was relatively quiet through most of the story. The others gathered around Harry as well, interjecting a few things here and there to fill in details. Draco’s sarcastic drawls were a breath of fresh air amongst Ron’s passionate points and Hermione’s analytical comments. Harry hoped this newfound, tentative friendship wouldn’t be broken.

Luna was silent through all of it, but her presence at his side was more than enough. It was like she’d always been his friend. Her gentle support was a nice contrast to Hermione’s sometimes overbearing support and Ron’s occasional underwhelming support.

She suited their growing group well.

“Foolish boy,” whispered Snape, sighing at the end. He ran a hand through his long hair. “I fear you have bitten off more than you can chew.”

Harry smiled. A muggle phrase. “Will you help me?” he asked softly. 

An amused smirk, a borderline smile, lifted the man’s features. “Rest assured, Mr. Potter, I will not do the work for you.”

Oh. Am I still a Potter? Or am I a Snape now?

Ah, well. Questions for another time.

“You have added to your work load, Harry,” said Snape, his tone dropping somewhat. “Your plate was already full with extra Potions work and three years of Ancient Runes, along with all the rest of your usual school work – and OWL year is not easy. On top of this, you’ve added the load of running an entire school. This comes with its professors and its students. It was already a full time job before, but now with your added changes, it will be that much more difficult.”

Harry held his breath.

“But, yes, I will help you,” whispered Snape; a glow entered his eyes, one that Harry had never seen in an adult before – at least, not when looking at him.

Was that a hint of pride?

He didn’t know.

“I’m sure Professor McGonagall would dare not leave her precious lion without the help he needs,” added Snape, his tone becoming sardonic. “She’s your deputy Headmistress. You’ll need to consult with her often.”

Harry nodded.

“All right, enough of this lounging on the floor,” said Snape, getting to his feet with a few grunts. Once on his feet, he huffed in annoyance, as if offended by the indignity of being on the floor. Somehow, Harry knew the man was exaggerating his displeasure. “This is still a school. The four of you better get back to class before I start handing out detentions like a certain old man hands out lemon drops.”

Harry let out a low laugh as Ron scrambled out of the room with a quick, “See ya, mate!” Hermione and Draco followed not far behind. Luna left last with a wave and a smile. The door of the office closed shut.

Snape huffed again.

“All right, let’s get you into bed.”

“Wait, what? But I—”

“Bed rest,” said Snape, glaring at him. He helped Harry to his feet, supporting him with an arm around the back. “You were already on thin ice when it came to your health. The last thing we need is a relapse with this latest development. Bed rest first and then we’ll take on the world.”

Harry smiled, leaning against his side. He reveled in the support. As they began to walk towards the door of the office, a truly wonderful amazing thought crossed his mind. He grinned and looked up at Snape.

“Hang on,” began Harry. A delighted, roguish look danced inside his bright green eyes. “Me being the Headmaster… Doesn’t that mean I’m your boss now?”

Not even the man’s burning glare could silence the mischievous giggle.