S.S.

Severus Snape stalked through the corridors, his robes billowing out behind him. Patrolling at night was a hideous waste of his time and not something the Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry should be required to do. However, it was the last night of term and in a few short hours he would be blissfully free from students for the summer.

The knowledge that this was the last patrol he would be required to perform for the year made the chore tolerable. He didn't dare hope to catch any wandering students tonight as they were all eagerly awaiting the summer, though he wouldn’t deny that he relished the idea of catching Potter out past curfew, particularly because he knew damn well that he had something to do with Black evading capture.

H.P.

Harry had patiently waited for the snores of his roommates to fill the dormitory before slipping on his father's invisibility cloak, creeping out of his four-poster and slipping down the stairs. He'd wanted just one night of freedom before he was sent back to the Dursleys. So, at one-thirty in the morning he could be found sitting on the floor of a disused classroom on the seventh floor, his invisibility cloak discarded beside him.

This was the room he’d found the Mirror of Erised, where his parents had seemed most real. Even though it was gone now, it was the place where he’d been nearest them. They’d been just out of reach. If they were going to be able to hear him anywhere, it’d be here.

He checked the map, and the coast was clear. Filch had long since gone to bed and Mrs Norris was in the dungeons, most likely looking for a spider to eat. Snape was on the sixth floor, probably heading for Gryffindor Tower and hoping to lose them some points before the next year had even begun.

He’d spent all day pretending to be excited for the summer with his housemates, and though Ron and Hermione knew how he really felt, they just didn't understand about this summer. They didn't understand why this time it was so much worse.

"Hi, Mum," Harry breathed. The word felt odd to say, unfamiliar in his mouth. "I don't know if you can hear me or if you’re listening… but if you're up there you might be, especially considering what happened this year."

S.S.

Severus paused on the seventh floor. One of the classroom doors he’d checked previously was slightly ajar. Standing still, with the castle silent, he could hear the faint sound of a child talking. He smiled grimly. Gryffindors out of bounds meant they’d be starting the next school year in minus points, and these students would be dicing flobberworms come September.

He stalked closer, his footsteps inaudible, and the voice became clearer. Potter. This was too good. But there was no sense rushing in; it couldn't hurt to hear what the Golden Trio were plotting.

Too often the headmaster dismissed Severus’ concerns about the boy’s rule-breaking and arrogance. Not this time.

"I almost had it," Potter whispered sadly. "I wished for thirteen years that I could live anywhere but with the Dursleys. And I know I have Hogwarts, Mum, but I don’t want to go back to them every summer.”

Snape frowned. The child wasn’t talking to either Weasley or Granger; he was talking to Lily. The fact that he was not only James Potter’s son hit him full force. He had promised to protect the boy for her and he was; someone had to stop the child from breaking rules and parading about the castle as if he owned the place, and so what if he got a little satisfaction from his small revenge?

Curiosity held him in place. He wanted to hear what the child would say to Lily.

"I thought this was it. I should have known it was too good to be true when Sirius offered to take me in. He’d have let me ask about you and dad. All Aunt Petunia ever said was that you died in a car crash and dad was unemployed, and that wasn’t even true. And I know I don't know Sirius, but he wouldn’t have been worse than the Dursleys. He was dad's best friend and he actually wants me to live with him. That must count for something." Potter's voice picked up volume. "It's not fair." He punctuated the final word with what sounded like a kick to a chair from the sound of the legs scraping against the stone floor.

“I know I have Hogwarts and Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys. And I know things are better than they were; I've not been in the cupboard for three years, and it’s only for the summer anyway."

Something twisted in Severus’ stomach. His instincts were telling him that Potter was not exhibiting warning signs, but sending up a flare. This wasn’t right. Severus had been cruel, harsh and spiteful towards Potter, but the arrogant child needed taking down a peg or two. He’d had been coddled for eleven years in the muggle world and then hero-worshipped when he rejoined the wizarding one. Now, there was a flaw to his logic. What if he was wrong?

"It was just so close," the boy whispered sadly. "I know you can't fix this even if you can hear me. I mean the whole cupboard thing wouldn't have happened, or the bars on the window fiasco, but maybe you could pull a few strings. Ron said something about the Quidditch World Cup…"

Severus Snape stood outside the classroom, frozen in place, as he considered what he’d heard. The Potter he knew, the arrogant, rule-breaking, cheeky brat wasn't the same boy who was in that classroom. Lily would be crushed if she could hear what her son had said, and she would move mountains to make sure he was safe. He owed Lily – he'd made a promise.

He heard Potter stand up and walk towards the door. Severus Snape turned on his heel and left.

S.S

Severus sat nursing a drink in his private quarters thinking over the night's events. He was by nature a brooding man and after last night it seemed that he had more reason to brood than ever. He could not simply dismiss Potter's words, he owed Lily better than that, he owed her child better than that. It was just a pity that the child was that insufferable Potter. Trust Potter to intrude into his life, it was so typical of the boy to constantly attract trouble and danger.

He himself grew up in a household of neglect and abuse and he could not overlook a child who could possibly be in that position, not if it was in his power to prevent it, even if that child was Potter. He could hear his voice again in his mind. 'I haven't been in the cupboard for three years!' What did that even mean? And 'that bars on the window fiasco'… As a spy Severus' gut feelings had become quite significant and not something to be easily overlooked and those were not phrases that one should calmly associate with childhood.

What kind of household even had bars on its windows? He had to concede that it was possible that the boy's childhood was not what he had imagined it to be, but that did not mean he would excuse Potter's behaviour, nor defend the child's arrogant, rule-breaking attitude. He would do this for Lily and no other reason.

His mind was made up; he would have to get to the bottom of this situation and he would do so quickly. Satisfied that he made a decision and planned a course of action, Severus downed his remaining fire whiskey and retired to bed where memories of Lily haunted his dreams.

---

Severus Snape waited patiently for the Hogwarts Express to pull into King's Cross. He stood a little away from the crowd of parents, scanning their faces, hoping to spot the Dursleys. He could remember Petunia's bony horse-like face from his youth, it was highly unlikely that she would have changed much even after all these years and so he was certain that he'd recognise her. He, in turn, did not want to be recognised by them, not now, and so he pulled back further into the shadows.

Even as the train pulled into the station he still had not found the Dursleys, so instead settled for waiting for Potter to indicate who they were himself. As the 'Golden trio', as he scathingly referred to them, disembarked from the train they were quickly surrounded by the whole red haired Weasley clan. Luckily, with Harry's dark mop of hair it was quite easy to keep track of him. It seemed to him that he was having some trouble locating his family himself, and as the boy search the station his eyes suddenly locked with his own. The boy's expression changed to one of confusion and defiance before he continued his search. Severus arched an eyebrow smugly, obviously the miscreant did not appreciate seeing his potion master outside of Hogwarts. The feeling was entirely mutual.

Soon enough he was watching the skinny boy drag his heavy trunk towards the far end of the station. It was no wonder he could not find Petunia; skinny as she was, she was completely hidden by her large beefy husband and what he could only assume was their own son. The boy was simply massive; he was at least five times the size of Potter. There was simply no way that those two boys could have grown up in the same household! He put the question out of his mind, readying himself to analyse the interaction between Potter and his relatives, only to find that there would be no interaction. Upon seeing Potter's approach the large man grunted something unintelligible before the family abruptly turned and left. They had not seen Potter for a whole year, yet they did not offer a smile, or a hug, nor did they take the child's trunk after watching him quite obviously struggle. Severus was painfully aware that Potter spent every holiday at Hogwarts- a fact that had always grated on him, it had seemed he was never to be rid of him. He surmised that the child may well have made the correct assessment of his relatives' affection toward him.

H.P

"Took you long enough," Uncle Vernon muttered angrily when he finally reached the car. Harry gritted his teeth hard to stop himself from biting back a scathing remark as he tried and failed to lift his trunk into the boot. The Dursleys were obviously still annoyed from last summer when he had accidentally blown up his Aunt Marge, and instead of helping him get the trunk into the boot they had simply got in the car to wait. He could see Dudley grinning and eating an ice lolly through the rear window trying to irritate him. Harry was getting more and more frustrated when he couldn't lift the trunk, but on his fifth attempt the trunk lifted so easily he was afraid that he'd done accidental magic again and almost dropped it onto his own foot.

After putting Hedwig in the car and sliding in himself he had to listen to Vernon's mutterings about him 'attention seeking' all the way to Privet drive. This was going to be a long summer.

By the time they had reached the house Harry's patience had worn extremely thin. As Harry pulled his luggage through the door Dudley had barrelled through, knocking him out of the way and he landed heavily on the sharp corner of his trunk and he barely managed to stifle a few choice words. Arm smarting, Harry gritted his teeth once more as his Aunt hissed, "Quickly! Stop dawdling outside." Irritated at the injustice, although not finding it at all unexpected, Harry stepped inside. The minute the door shut his trunk was snatched out of his grasp and hauled into the cupboard under the stairs.

"No." He had had enough of this, it was bad enough that he was standing here in this awful house that he hated, they wouldn't take his trunk away, not this time. He lunged to grab the handle and pull it back out before the door was shut. "It's mine, I'm taking it to my room." He met his uncle's gaze defiantly, refusing to be worried even as he saw a malicious spark in the larger man's eye.

"You can have your blasted trunk boy, but it's going in the cupboard. You want it, you can go back in there and Dudley can have his room back." Vernon was smirking, knowing full well that he would refuse. Harry bit his lip, staring down at his trunk.

"No."

It wasn't worth it, he would just have to steal it back later when they were distracted like last year. He relinquished his grip on the handle with extreme reluctance and watched with sullen eyes as Uncle Vernon clicked the cupboard's lock into place.

---

Severus Snape had followed Harry Potter. His first impression of the Dursleys had not satisfied his curiosity nor eased his worries and so he continued to watch them as they departed from King's Cross. The Gryffindor Golden Boy continued to struggle with his trunk all the way up to what he assumed was the Dursleys car. Instead of lifting it into the boot for him, they merely continued to ignore him and Potter appeared entirely unfazed by this treatment even as his cousin sat grinning at him from the backseat of the car, clearly enjoying watching him struggle. There was no way the scrawny child would be able to lift it up all by himself and he could see the boy was becoming frustrated by his lack of success. Deciding he wasn't going to see much more in the car park of a train station, he found himself casting a feather-light charm, startling the child so much he almost dropped it in surprise before pushing it further into the boot.

As soon as the Dursleys were out of sight Severus apparated to Privet Drive and disillusioned himself before casting a silent alohomora on the front door. The house was exceptionally tidy, typical of a middle class suburban family who were doing well for themselves; the kind of home he would expect a woman like Petunia Dursley to live in. He noted that the living room had on its mantle many pictures, not one of them containing Potter. The only child you could tell grew up in the house was that blond boy from the train station. If he hadn't seen them earlier, and he didn't know better, he would not have believed it to be Potter's home.

'Bars on the window fiasco… ' The memory of Potter's words sent a jolt through him and he went in search of Potter's room. As he reached the first floor landing he noticed that there were four doors to choose from and one of these doors was far more conspicuous than the others. On this particular door two locks and a deadbolt were fitted. Severus' stomach turned, it was the door of a prisoner. Worse than the locks on the door were the implications of the cat flap; as far as he was aware Potter was in possession of an owl and there was no evidence that any sort of pet lived in this house.

"How deep is your sister's resentment, Lily?" he murmured quietly.

Severus ventured into the room that he knew with certainty was Potter's. It was a depressing sight; the bars on the window didn't allow too much light in, and the room was devoid of anything personal. One of the bars on the window was missing and there was a large scratch on the sill, which made it appear as if it had been pulled out from the outside. The room was lined with broken toys, which Severus found odd; they ignored the child, treated him like a prisoner and yet he had been spoilt rotten with toys that he had clearly not appreciated or taken care of? Another mystery. There was nothing on the walls except what appeared to be a home-made calendar where Potter had marked the return date to Hogwarts the previous year.

This certainly explained one of Potter's comments at least, but he was no closer to figuring out the cupboard comment.

Soon enough the crunch of the gravel outside indicated that the Dursleys had arrived and Severus was careful to remain out of the way, while at the same time keeping Potter in his view. He watched from the top of the stairs as the family ignored the boy struggling with his heavy trunk save to hiss out an admonishment as Potter was finally coming in the front door. The overweight oaf of a child then clearly shoved Potter back out of the way causing Harry to trip. He knew that in any other family behaviour like that would lead to a telling off or some sort of punishment, but the skinny woman merely gave the boy an indulgent smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

Severus could see the boy was hurt; his eyes were watering and his teeth were gritted tightly, but he remained silent and made no complaint. Severus was beginning to wonder if he'd have to watch Potter slowly drag his trunk all the way up the stairs to his bedroom and was beginning to lose patience with the situation when the boy's uncle finally grabbed it from him, but instead of taking it up to his room he simply opened a small cupboard under the stairs and threw it in, causing Potter to lunge for the handle.

He watched as he stood up to his uncle, acting for all the world like the Potter he knew; the obstinate, defiant Gryffindor that he was. Severus was soon distracted from his musings about Potter's behaviour when he heard the boy's uncle's words. "You want it, you can go back in there and Dudley can have his room back." It all clicked- the toys along the wall upstairs had not been Potter's at all, he had moved into the other boy's room… 'I haven't been in the cupboard for three years!' Severus' jaw dropped. Unless he'd made some grave error Potter had been living in a cupboard. Lily's son grew up in a cupboard! What was even worse was that at the foolish Muggle's words Potter had glanced back at the cupboard, as if judging whether or not it was worth it.

Severus' blood boiled. Lily would not have endured this, she would have been livid! Her own sister forcing her son to live in a cupboard under the stairs! Petunia Evans had been many things, but to be capable of this? His eyes sought out where she stood in the kitchen absentmindedly cleaning the worktops, her own son lolling against the doorframe watching as his Father locked away Potter's belongings. He knew now that he had seen enough that he could not allow this living situation to continue, Lily would never forgive him for permitting this kind of behaviour, but what to do? Go to Dumbledore and demand what exactly? He was drawn from his musings as shouts erupted at the bottom of the stairs.

"Get out of the way, boy!" The large man was attempting to get at the owl cage, causing the bird inside to screech indignantly as the child sought to shield the cage from his uncle.

"No! You're not locking it, she needs to get out!" Potter yelled back furiously.

"You're not sending letters to those freaks from that-that school," the boy's uncle snarled, reaching for the cage around Potter.

"Get- off- it," Harry said, pushing the cage further behind him and out of his uncle's reach. The massive man growled menacingly, then grabbing Potter furiously by the arm, he shoved him roughly aside, causing Potter to trip and land in a graceless heap on the floor. In an instant Severus was down the stairs, fully visible, his wand drawn and pointed at Vernon Dursleys's heart.

"Touch him again, muggle, and you won't live to regret it," he hissed venomously. He waved his wand towards the little cupboard, slamming it open and making the other child waddle from the room, no doubt realising there was a dangerous wizard in the house.

Petunia rushed into the hall at the sound of the cupboard slamming open and screeched when she saw Severus. "YOU!"

"Petunia," he sneered darkly in return.

H.P.

Harry stared from the floor in shock; he'd been at the Dursleys for less than twenty minutes and suddenly Snape was standing in the middle of the hallway! Invite the Malfoys over and you'd have everyone who hated him all in one room! He barely noticed Snape defending him, only regaining his senses at Aunt Petunia's shriek. He looked between his Aunt and his teacher frowning.

"Wait, what-" Before he could finish his question his uncle rounded on him once more, and from the floor he looked a lot bigger and he was hard pressed not to visibly flinch.

"How dare you bring one of your lot here!" he roared angrily, the vein in his neck pulsing rapidly.

"I didn't bring anyone-" Harry began furiously, before being abruptly cut off.

"The hell you didn't, you ungrateful freak-" he started, his face inches from Harry's own, until he was abruptly thrown from Harry and slammed into the wall opposite. Petunia shrieked, close to hysterical.

"Freak? FREAK, Dursley?" Snape looked dangerously angry as he glanced back at Petunia, Uncle Vernon pinned helplessly to the wall with a sticking charm. "You never got over it did you?" he snarled at Petunia. She looked too frightened to talk and she just stared open mouthed at Snape, her hand clutching her apron.

"Potter, wait in the living room," Severus barked at Harry.

"What?"

"It was a simple request. Now. Get. Out." he replied coolly, his wand still pointed steadily at Uncle Vernon.

"No, I want to know what's going-"

"OUT!" Snape yelled, causing Harry to back up a few steps. He sent a furious glare at Snape before relenting and stalking into the living room. Snape slammed the door shut and cast a thorough silencing charm on it.

S.S.

"I know how you raised the boy, Petunia, you were to raise her son as your own! Lily would turn in her grave if she knew what you've done."

"Been telling tales has he?" she answered, finally finding her voice. "We took him in, clothed him, fed him, we didn't ask for him. We didn't want a freak in our house."

"You always were jealous of Lily; she was so much more than you Petunia, so much better." Severus fingered his wand threateningly, trying to decide whether it would be worth it to curse them.

"ENOUGH," Vernon roared, spit flying everywhere. "GET OUT! Take the damned boy with you!"

"Believe me Dursley, I will," he said softly, stalking slowly towards the man. "But I'd say we have some things to straighten out… I'll be back." He lifted the silencing charm on the living room door. "Come, Potter."

H.P.

Severus Snape strode out the front door and Harry hurried after him, not entirely certain that Snape was the lesser of the two evils.

"Sir, what the hell?" Harry bit out once the door slammed shut behind them.

 

H.P.

Snape, his least favourite teacher, had just appeared in his relatives home, screamed at them, attacked them and then demanded that Harry leave. Now, he stood outside their front porch clad in his usual billowing black robes, visibly seething and completely ignoring Harry's question. He tried again.

"What's going on? Did Professor Dumbledore send you here? Did something happen? Why—"

"Merlin, Potter, be quiet," Snape spat. He peered up and down the street before striding away from number four. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder, not bothering to check whether or not Harry would follow.

"No." He stood still, one hand holding onto his trunk and the other holding Hedwig's cage. He wasn't going anywhere until Snape told him what was going on.

The Potions Master whirled around, staring hard at Harry. "I do not have time for your childish tantrums."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, despite Snape's rapidly fading patience.

"I would have thought that even with your inferior intelligence you would have surmised our destination," Snape replied scathingly.

"Hogwarts?" he asked uncertainly, not daring to hope that he could be going back so soon. For a moment Snape's expression began to falter but in an instant his impassive mask was regained.

"Indeed. Now I suggest that you follow me." His tone left no room for argument and with hope of escaping the Dursleys for good this summer, Harry did as he was told.

After Snape found a quiet alley to disapparate them from (and that was an experience he hoped never to have to relive), Harry found himself staring up at the gates of Hogwarts. Had he been standing alongside anyone else he would have thought that he was dreaming. But what if he was just in trouble? He wouldn't put it past Snape to drag him back to Hogwarts just to punish him for some petty misdemeanour. Or maybe something had happened to Sirius… His stomach clenched. He couldn't bear it if anything happened to his Godfather.

They walked up to the castle in silence after Harry had asked yet again what was going on and Snape told him he could keep his mouth shut voluntarily or be put under the silencio charm until he saw fit to remove it. Harry recognised the vicious gleam in Snape's eye that seemed to say that if he had a choice the charm would be permanent, and so he spent the walk up to Dumbledore's office with his jaw clenched tight.

"Jelly tots," Snape reluctantly bit out through gritted teeth to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's staircase. Harry grinned behind his back, his head suddenly filled with the image of Snape maniacally stirring a cauldron full to the brim of jelly tots, and he struggled to hold back a laugh at the Potions Master's expense. 

"Stay here," Snape ordered, once they'd reached the top of the spiral staircase.

"What? No!" Harry whined, well aware that he sounded like a petulant child but past caring. 

"It looks like Gryffindor will be losing points before the school year has even begun. What a shame." Seeming satisfied that his threat would be enough to make Harry obey, he strode into Dumbledore's office without knocking, slammed the door behind him and more than likely cast a silencing charm on top of that, because try as he might Harry couldn't hear a word through the door.

S.S.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted calmly from behind his desk, appearing unperturbed by the abruptness of his arrival. "What brings you here in such a hurry?" His eyes searched out Severus' own from behind his half moon spectacles.

"Don't," Severus hissed. "Don't try that with me, Headmaster."

Concern flashed in his employer's eyes. He was not known for his kind demeanour but it was unusual for him to be so irate without cause. "Severus, do try to remain calm. What has happened?"

He glared before spitting the name of his most hated student. "Potter."

The older man sighed wearily. He had obviously been expecting something a little more serious than having to listen to another rant about the son of Severus' childhood nemesis. "It's the holidays. What can the poor boy have possibly done now?"

Ignoring the headmaster's assumption, Severus spoke in a low snarl. "When you left him with those people, they said they would look after him as if he was their own? You gave them a choice?" He enunciated each word of the last question carefully to make it clear that he knew exactly what choice they were given and he did not deem it to be such.

"They were not forced to take him in, Severus, the wards would not have worked had that been the case. You are aware of the conditions." His employer did not betray any hint of surprise at the direction of the conversation.

"I know how the blood wards work. You do not have to agree to care for the child, you do not have to want him, you just have to take him in." He paused, allowing the headmaster to ponder the implications of his words. "You checked on him? You monitored the child that you put in their unwilling care?"

"Arabella Figg has kept an eye on Harry. She would have warned me if there was any cause for concern." 

"And what would you deem to be cause for concern?"

"If he was in any danger, I would have been alerted." This time it was the headmaster who paused. "I need not answer to you, Severus. I might remind you that you have not always had Harry's best interests at heart."

"No, you need not answer to me. Tell me, if Lily stood before you now, would you honestly tell her you did the best you could for her son?" 

"Harry has grown to be all we could have hoped for. She would have been proud of who he is," the older wizard said. 

"That isn't what I asked you," Severus replied coldly.

"He needs the blood wards. I am ensuring his continued protection; you know the danger the child could face." 

"I swore to protect him and I cannot let this lie."

"It is for the best, Severus." Those calm words cut through Severus' cool façade in an instant.

"I will not ensure his protection by subjecting him to another kind of harm. Do not spout that 'greater good' nonsense to me, not with her child." He breathed deeply trying to regain control of his temper.

"I could have given him to any wizarding family, many would have happily taken him, but he needs those wards. He hasn't had the life he could have had, but he is safe," Dumbledore replied, standing up as though to end the conversation or bring it under his control.

Severus shook his head. He wasn't going to be cowed. The headmaster had known what kind of life the child had been subject to and still had the gall to try to justify his decision. "The child has bars on his window. He lived in a cupboard for ten years. I've no children of my own, please tell me, is that normal?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"It is irrelevant. The wards are my priority; they will ensure his safety." Dumbledore's tone implied the conversation was over.

"She died for him and this is how you treat her sacrifice?" Severus questioned softly, glaring at the older man.

"What do you propose I do, Severus?" Dumbledore asked heavily.

"Bring him here. The castle is secure."

"And who do you suggest takes guardianship of the boy over the holiday?"

 

S.S.

He had not considered who the replacement carer for the boy would be over the holidays, but surely someone at Hogwarts would be able to keep an eye on him. He was aware that the boy seemed to be on good terms with Hagrid...

"Hagrid and the boy get along, surely he could take him."

"Really, Severus? Hagrid is our gamekeeper. His job carries on over the holidays, not to mention his quarters are outdoors with nowhere for Harry to stay. That would not be entirely appropriate, would it?"

Severus did not think it wise at this stage to mention that the Dursleys had hardly been appropriate guardians for the child either.

"The wolf then, he was fond of the boy."

"Remus has found himself without work," the headmaster said, giving him a pointed look. "He needs time to find employment. You are also aware that with his lycanthropy it would not be possible for him to be Harry's sole guardian over the summer."

"Are you telling me that you cannot think of a single soul that resides in this castle that would be capable of minding the boy for a matter of weeks?"

"You are aware that although we live in the castle with our students during the year we each have lives and families of our own. There is only one person available for the task," he answered, looking intently at Severus over his interlaced fingertips.

"No." 

"Severus."

"No!"

"With no one to take care of him here, he must remain where he is."

"He is outside this office." Severus almost smirked, despite the dire predicament he found himself in.

"Then it seems you have volunteered yourself."

"You once gave that boy to people who did not want him and it did not go well. Do not make the same mistake again."

The headmaster looked up at Severus over his half-moon spectacles. "You have taken a great amount of interest in Harry's welfare and I trust you completely. Hagrid will of course be on the grounds and I'm sure you are welcome to contact Remus."

Severus almost laughed at the prospect of contacting that blasted wolf.

"You're leaving me with no choice… how ironic."

"You have a choice, Severus."

"I do not consider that an option."

The headmaster sighed as if Severus was being wearisome and unreasonable. "I think we've left Harry outside for long enough, don't you?"

"Do not tell him that this was down to me," Severus said quietly.

His employer inclined his head. "As you wish." 

H.P.

Harry had been standing outside Dumbledore's office for a good twenty minutes getting more and more frustrated by the second. Why was no one telling him anything? And why was he standing outside of Dumbledore's office when it was perfectly clear that Snape and Dumbledore were discussing him? If they were going to take him back to the Dursleys they would be livid when Harry turned up again, and if Harry wasn't staying with the Dursleys why would Dumbledore make him take the train all the way to London? He was silently debating whether to start pounding on the door or whether to wander off and entertain himself just to irritate Snape when the door in question opened, revealing a smiling Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry," he greeted cheerfully. "Do come inside. Lemon drop?"

"No, thanks, sir."

His eyes darted to Snape who was standing beside Professor Dumbledore's desk looking as menacing as ever, although seeming much calmer than before.

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry directed the question at the headmaster, carefully ignoring Snape.

"It has come to our attention that your home life leaves a lot to be desired. You once expressed a wish to remain at the castle over the holidays," he stated slowly, watching Harry intently.

"Yes, sir."

"Then you will be happy to hear that you will be remaining here this summer."

"Really?" Harry couldn't help the wide grin that broke out on his face. He wasn't going back!

"Professor Snape and I were just discussing the details before you came in."

Again, Harry glanced at his dreaded potions teacher. What did he have to do with anything? Snape was the last person who wanted to be bothered with Harry over the holidays.

"What details, Professor?"

"You will of course need to have an adult to take care of you. The castle is not quite run the same over the summer, my boy. We do not normally make provision for students, as you are aware." Professor Dumbledore seemed to hesitate a fraction. "We have come to the decision that it is best that Professor Snape is appointed your guardian over the summer."

Harry's face fell. "Snape?"

"Professor Snape," the man himself snapped.

"But why?" he asked, gaping at the headmaster.

"There is no one else in the castle better suited to taking care of you over the next few weeks. You will stay with Professor Snape in his quarters and he will be responsible for you."

Harry's eyes widened further at the thought of Snape being responsible for him for the whole summer. It was a nightmare — the man hated him.

"Are we quite finished, headmaster?" Snape asked coldly.

"Indeed, Severus."

"Come, Potter." He swept out of the office with a very reluctant Harry Potter trailing behind him.

Harry pondered his summer moodily. He was saved from the Dursleys and Dumbledore was letting him stay in the castle and literally the only thing that could ruin it for him had happened. It was so unfair! Snape and the Dursleys could form some sort of club of people who hated him…

Snape would no doubt be the same as the Dursleys, blaming him for everything and acting as though sharing the same air was offensive. He certainly wouldn't want Harry around; maybe he would try to lock him away too. Would Snape even have a room for him? Harry shuddered, picturing himself locked in the potions store cupboard all summer.

Their footsteps echoed in the long dungeon corridors. Harry vaguely recognised where they were from his trip to the Slytherin common room in second year, but they quickly passed it by, eventually reaching a thoroughly nondescript painting of a tree. Snape stepped close to the painting and when he murmured the password, Lilium, a small snake wound itself out of a hole in the tree before the portrait swung aside to admit them.

Despite being underground Snape's quarters were obviously charmed to have windows, though it still was still gloomy. The wooden furniture was dark and the sofas and wallpaper were grey. If you looked closely there were small snakes a shade lighter in the paper. It was drab but comfortable looking and fairly homely. There were three doors leading off from the living room but they were shut, so Harry settled for leaning quietly against his trunk and waiting for Snape to speak.

"I do hope my quarters meet the Golden Boy's expectations," Snape sneered. "The kitchen is the door on the left and we will eat at the table, not anywhere else. My rooms are through the door on the right. You have no right whatsoever to enter them, under any circumstance. You might be used to going wherever you please in this castle but that will no longer be the case. Is that understood?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes," he ground out.

"Your room is the door across from us. Come." He showed Harry into a room which was a little lighter and friendlier than the living room. "This is the guest bedroom, and—" he pushed open a door on the left "—the guest bathroom. I expect them to be kept clean; your laziness will not be tolerated here." Snape's silky voice was causing Harry's blood to boil and he bit his tongue, hard, to stop himself from saying anything rude in return. He couldn't quite help himself, though.

"I'm not lazy."

"Manners, Potter. Stay in here and unpack. I will call you out for dinner in one hour. I expect you to be finished and—" he glanced at appraisingly at Harry who was wearing one of Dudley's old t-shirts that was far too long and jeans that were torn and frayed at the bottom from where he had repeatedly trodden on them, "—appropriately dressed." 

Harry carefully put Hedwig's cage on his desk before turning around and kicking his trunk one Snape had left. He sat on the bed seething, unpacking the last thing on his mind. Snape's attitude to him was clearly the same as ever. Why he would ever have agreed to take him in? Unless he had plans to make his summers even more miserable.

A good half hour later he was no closer to figuring out how he had ended up in Snape's quarters but his stomach remembered the promise of dinner and he had no desire to find out how similar Snape would be to the Dursleys if Harry defied him. He unpacked, finishing with fifteen minutes to spare and realised that with all his stuff put away this room looked more like his own than any other had. He brushed that thought hastily aside with something close to a shudder.

He still had to get changed into something 'appropriate'. His clothes were pretty much all the same, either too big or too worn. Had Snape told him to change on purpose in an attempt to humiliate him? He quickly threw on his school robes. At best, Snape might not comment on it.

A few moments later, Snape knocked on Harry's door. "Why, Potter, are you wearing your school uniform?"

"Because you said to get changed…sir," Harry said, trying to keep his voice even.

"I asked you to dress appropriately. It seems you cannot follow even the simplest instructions. Get changed."

"What?" Harry was at a complete loss for what to do. All his muggle clothes were pretty much the same and he'd already changed into his robes. He didn't have anything left. What did he want him to wear? And who had a bloody dress code for dinner in their kitchen in the first place? You'd think he'd invited Merlin to dinner the way he was going on.

"I suggest you rethink your attitude before you join me for dinner. Five minutes," he said in what Harry recognised as his 'detention' voice.

He stared despairingly down at his clothes. Why did it matter to Snape what he wore anyway? He picked out his last Weasley jumper, curling his fingers into the warm wool. He couldn't wear this; it wasn't even appropriate for the time of year let alone Snape's ridiculous standards for his quarters. Maybe he just didn't want him to have any dinner… Well, that was fine, he'd gone without a meal or a hundred at the Dursleys. He wouldn't starve to death missing one measley little meal. He'd just sit here and… his eyes scoured the room, searching for inspiration. There, right, he'd read his broom manual.

S.S.

That was how Severus found Harry, lying on his stomach on his bed, still in his school robes, absentmindedly flicking through his broomstick manual.

"Mr. Potter," Severus began silkily. "Was there something difficult about my request for you to get changed and eat dinner?" At his words Harry shut his book and sat up with his arms folded, glaring in the opposite direction.

"Can you dress yourself?" Harry shot him a furious glare, but said nothing. "Answer me."

"Yes," Harry replied sullenly.

"Yes, sir." Severus was getting very annoyed, very quickly. He'd expected resistance from the Gryffindor but not quite this amount and not over something as ridiculous as dressing smartly. He strode forward to the wardrobe and opened the doors, pulling out every item of clothing until they were all piled up on the bed. He hadn't remembered teenage fashion being quite so hideous when he was the same age.

"Potter, are your relatives aware that you are not a small elephant?"

H.P.

Harry stifled a snigger. "Yes… sir."

Snape looked if possible even angrier as he glared at the offending heap of clothes. "Which of these clothes were bought specifically with you in mind?"

Harry glanced at the pile, feeling his face flame at the question. "Mrs Weasley knitted two of the jumpers," he admitted with what he hoped came across as a careless shrug. Snape's lips thinned, reminding Harry of his aunt when she spotted a speck of dust on her shelves. The Potions Master was probably about to start yelling.

Instead, Snape billowed out of the room, soon returning with a white short sleeved shirt and black trousers which he thrust at Harry.

"I shrunk them, so they should fit you. Put them on and come eat dinner."

S.S.

He waited for Potter to return at the table, thinking over their dispute. He'd assumed the boy's refusal to don suitable attire was some sort of statement or ploy for attention, but it was clear now that those people had not provided for him at all. Potter's life was being revealed to be less and less what he anticipated and the thought was... unsettling.

He waited for him to finish eating before raising the matter. "Mr. Potter, it was not my intention to give you a task that you could not complete. You are permitted to inform me if, for some reason, you are unable to complete a task that I set you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"The clothes that you are in possession of are not acceptable. We will remedy that tomorrow."

Harry looked up at him, giving him another of his confused looks before returning his eyes to his plate.

"As I have mentioned, while you are living with me you will abide by my rules. You will have a schedule. I will not have you wandering the castle whenever you please. You will eat three meals a day, complete your homework to a good standard — not the usual drivel that you hand in — and you will complete chores. Is that clear?"

The boy nodded mutely, dragging his fork across his plate, obviously irritated. "You will get your schedule tomorrow. Be up for breakfast at eight."

 

S.S.

Severus Snape was confused, having awoken up that morning to the memory of taking in his least favourite student, Harry Potter. He groaned at the thought of a whole summer stuck with the blasted child. Every day for the next few months would be unbearable. He had no idea how to entertain a child, nor any desire to do so. He was certain that leaving the boy in his sole care would lead to an insurmountable amount of tension and anger for the both of them.

It was seven thirty in the morning when Severus made his decision to contact Remus Lupin. It was not something he wished to do, but a short amount of contact with the wolf could give him a Potter free day at least once a week, and a change of scenery would be good for the child. Plus, contact with someone who could stand the sight of him would surely bring a welcome change to the boy's summer.

"Remus Lupin's study," Severus announced, sticking his head through the fire, leaving himself in an undignified position on the floor. After the spinning stopped, he found himself looking at the tired wolf's shins. "Lupin, I'd like a word." At the sound of Severus' voice, the other man jumped, clearly startled, before standing up and walking around his desk to address his floating head.

"Severus, this is unexpected."

"May I?" Severus asked impatiently, raising a single brow.

"Of course." Lupin stepped back to give him room and Severus stepped out of the fireplace. He glanced around the room, taking in the worn and shabby furniture. "How are you?" Lupin asked him, his tone measured and polite. Severus' lip curled in disdain.

"This isn't a social call. I need to speak with you about Potter."

"About Harry? Has something happened?"

Severus considered his response carefully. He did not want to get into a discussion regarding the boy's family when he had not discovered the extent of their neglect, nor did he want the wolf to believe that it was in any way down to him that the Potter brat was now living with him in the castle.

"The headmaster has decided that the boy must stay with me at Hogwarts over the summer. It is not an ideal situation as I'm sure you can imagine." He let disdain creep into his voice as he spoke.

Lupin frowned. "Why is he staying with you? I thought he lived with his aunt and uncle?"

"I suggest that you take that up with the headmaster. No doubt he just couldn't say no to his golden boy," Severus replied, rather proud of his evasion.

"Severus…" Lupin began reproachfully.

"I need you to take him at least once a week."

Lupin's eyebrows shot up. "Take him?"

"Yes. Take him somewhere outside of the castle for the day. It should not be an issue; you have no other commitments," Severus replied.

Lupin frowned, no doubt at the reminder that he no longer had a job, but nodded quickly. "That sounds fine. Do you have a day in mind?"

"Saturdays. Should you find work you will be able to keep taking him without interrupting his schedule." He was pleased, although not surprised that it had been this easy. The wolf had become quite fond of the child and would no doubt want to 'save' the boy from him.

"I'll come through the floo and take him from there. Tell Harry I'm looking forward to seeing him."

Severus departed for his own quarters through the floo. He had fifteen minutes left before Potter was due for breakfast and he wanted to have his schedule prepared for him. Sitting down at the table, Severus quickly drafted an outline for Potter that would keep him suitably busy so that not even he could not get into the mischief that he was usually capable of during term time.

H.P

Harry woke up disoriented in an unfamiliar room. The events of the day before slowly came back to him and his face flushed with embarrassment. Snape knew that he'd never had his own clothes, that the Dursleys weren't bothered enough about him to get him any of his own. Would he use it against him to humiliate him in front of the Slytherins?

He quickly threw on the same shirt and trousers that Snape had given him but it was weird to be wearing his professor's clothes. Snape's probably have them burned when this was all over.

His teacher's behaviour last night had been odd to say the least. He would never have thought in a million years that Snape would agree to take him in – the man loathed him. He'd been his usual cold and cruel self, but at the same time he'd given Harry a room, cooked him a meal, and even given him some of his own clothes. He probably had to do a lot of that stuff. After all, Dumbledore knew Harry was there and he would hardly let Snape chop him up for potions ingredients. Snape was probably just trying to keep him happy.

He entered the kitchen dead on eight to find Snape sitting at the table reading the paper. They ate in silence as they had the night before and the Potions Master didn't say a word until Harry put his spoon down.

Snape slid a piece of paper over to his side of the table and Harry leaned over to inspect it.

"I have written down your schedule. This will be followed from Sunday to Friday."

8am: Breakfast

9–11am: Homework

Free time

1pm: Lunch

2–4pm: Studying

Free time

7pm: Dinner

8–10pm: Reading/Quiet activity

10.30pm: Bed

"Studying?" Harry looked down at the schedule with something akin to horror. At least the Dursleys left him alone to wallow in his misery; they didn't plan his day to the hour.

"Was that a question you were attempting to frame, Mr. Potter?"

It took all of his willpower not to roll his eyes. "Why does it say studying, sir?" he asked again, this time looking up at his teacher.

"Your school work in my class last year was nothing short of abysmal, a standard I don't doubt is mirrored in your other courses," Snape replied.

Abysmal! He scowled darkly. If he was bad at potions it was because that greasy bat was always breathing down his neck. Harry continued looking at the schedule 'Quiet activity'? How old did Snape think he was? He thought it better to let it go when he considered the possibilities for his free time.

"Can I go out in the free time bits?"

"You may go to visit any teacher, the library, the owlery or go outside in your free time on the condition that you let me know where it is that you are going. You may leave a note on this table, or ask a house elf to do it for you if you are out. Also, at the end of your allotted time for homework I would like you to leave it on the kitchen table for me to go over. You will make a real effort or you will be redoing the work until I deem it to be of a high enough standard."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Some holiday this was turning out to be. "This says Sunday to Friday, sir?" Snape stared at him and Harry sighed, thinking dark thoughts about evil nit-picking professors. "Why does it say Sunday to Friday, sir?"

"Saturdays the wolf will relieve me of your presence for the day."

Harry's eyes widened. He was going to see Professor Lupin! It was rubbish that he'd resigned; he was the best teacher they'd had. And he'd known his parents and Sirius so he'd probably have loads of stories about them. Plus, the fact that he'd get to be away from the dungeons for a whole day was a massive bonus.

"This morning we will disregard the schedule as we must remedy your clothing situation. There is no reason for you to dress in rags."

"Are we going to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked hopefully.

"We will floo to the Leaky Cauldron and visit Madam Malkin's. I assume you are fond of muggle clothing?" Snape asked, and Harry nodded.

"We will also have to shop in muggle London. I take it you are ready to depart?"

"Yes, sir."

---

Harry stepped through the floo first, gracelessly tumbling out on the floor of the leaky cauldron, closely followed by Snape who strolled serenely out of the fireplace. "Quickly!" the professor snapped.

Harry got up, dusted himself off and reluctantly followed his teacher, waving merrily at Tom the barman on the way out. Snape opened the entrance to Diagon Alley and billowed up the street. He walked quickly, in long strides, evidently trying to reach his destination as fast as possible and Harry struggled to keep up. As they passed by the bank he called out to Snape. "Professor. Wait."

He jogged a little to catch up. "I don't have any money on me," he gasped, holding his side as he felt a stitch forming, and cursed Snape's speed. He was probably doing that on purpose too, torture by forced exercise. 

"Thank you, Potter, for yelling down the street to inform me of your current financial situation," Snape replied, turning to continue up the street. "Come, I want to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"I can't buy anything without any money, can I?" Harry asked angrily. Why did Snape have to make everything so hard?

"Adjust your tone, Potter," he snapped. "As arrogant as your father before you…" he muttered turning away.

"Shut up about my dad."

Snape whipped round, eyes flashing in anger. "You dare speak to me like that, you insolent…" Harry backed up as the Potions Master loomed over him, but he refused to look away. He wasn't going to listen to him bad-mouthing his dad. Snape stepped back, seeming to collect himself and hissed, "You've lost your free time today. Another word out of line and it will be all week. Come, now."

Harry didn't dare refuse but why should he have to put up with Snape constantly putting him and his father down? Harry was distinctly reminded of last summer with his aunt Marge and tried to remain calm. He didn't even want to imagine how angry Snape would be if he accidentally started to inflate him. Still, he had no money on him! What was the point in even coming out if he couldn't buy anything? Maybe this was some part of a ploy to humiliate him about his lack of clothes... Why wouldn't he just listen to him instead of getting angry?

S.S.

The boy's rudeness was intolerable. He opened the door to Madam Malkin's, still seething.

He didn't want to answer the boy's questions about money; he would not tell the boy that he'd be buying the clothes for him and he would not answer to a child, especially if that child was Potter's. He was doing this for Lily. The boy was too young to be paying for his own clothes. It was his guardian's place to take care of his needs and clearly these particular needs had never been met. He had made a promise to Lily, and he would provide for the boy's needs as necessary, but that did not mean that the child needed to be made aware of it.

"I don't have any money on me. I need to go to Gringott's," Potter repeated, looking up at Severus. "…Sir," he finished, after taking in his warning glance.

Severus cursed inwardly at the stubbornness of the child. "Mr. Potter, your relatives should have bought you appropriate clothing; we are merely here to rectify the situation. You do not need to pay for the clothes."

"Someone has to pay for them, sir. My relatives aren't going to buy them. I have enough money, I just need to get it out." Severus was getting increasingly annoyed as Potter continued to argue, but the last thing he needed was to draw attention to them in the middle of the shop.

"Potter, you will not pay for clothes; you are a child. Do not concern yourself with the matter."

"Can I help you?" A young man wearing robes with 'Madam Malkin's' stitched in small letters on the front addressed Severus brightly. He scowled.

Upon the assistant's arrival Potter's hand had shot up to his hair, his fingers tugging at his fringe. Severus turned back to the sales assistant. At least his arrival had distracted Potter enough to get past the payment issue. "Yes, he needs a whole wardrobe." He indicated the boy. "Everything. Take care of it." 

Severus watched as Potter and the young sales assistant covered the whole store. The boy looked a lot happier but curiously kept flattening his fringe while he chatted and nodded to the young man.

Sooner than expected they were done and Severus was at the till paying for the clothes.

"This is everything?" he asked, indicating the modest assortment of clothes on the counter.

"Yes, it usually takes longer but he wasn't fussy. The only thing he took interest in was the socks. Your Neville's a good boy." Snape raised an eyebrow at the name, looking over at Harry who had elected to stay with the socks rather than face Snape before it was absolutely necessary. He ignored the reference to Potter as his. Snape was distracted from his study of the boy again by the sales assistant.

"Would you like to take all these with you, or have them delivered?"

"Have them sent to Hogwarts," he answered curtly.

"Neville, we're leaving."

H.P.

Once outside the shop Snape looked down at Harry, "Neville, Potter?"

Harry just shrugged, not wanting to justify himself to Snape. He didn't need to give the man another excuse to put him down. He just didn't want the boy to know who he was; the wizarding world acted a lot different to The-Boy-Who-Lived than they did to regular people and it was a lot nicer talking to people if they weren't gawping at him in awe.

Harry was looking forward to going into muggle London, at least. He'd been there when he'd travelled to Diagon Alley but he'd never really seen much of it. Snape, on the other hand, gave the distinct impression that he was not looking forward to the trip in the slightest.

"Back so soon, Mr. Potter?" said Tom as they entered the Leaky Cauldron.

"We're going into muggle London," Harry replied, smiling.

"Morning, Professor," Tom nodded at Snape.

Snape pulled out a chair from the nearest table. "Sit. Do not move and do not talk to anyone else. I will be back in two minutes."

"I'll keep an eye on him, Professor," Tom supplied. Snape nodded and left to change his clothes.

Harry was forced to walk alongside Snape in muggle London. The roads and streets were far busier than in Diagon Alley and Snape was clearly on edge as he steered him as quickly as he could to the shopping centre. Harry noticed that Snape looked slightly less intimidating than usual in his muggle clothes, though apparently he kept to the theme of black no matter what he wore.

How come Snape was so used to the muggle world anyway? When Hagrid had taken him to London he seemed quite excited by everything, but Snape seemed unfazed by it all.

"Stop dawdling, Potter," Snape snapped as Harry gazed around the large building, taking in all the different store fronts. "I don't have all day."

Harry bit his lip when Snape stared at him expectantly once they'd reached the clothing section of the department store. He had no idea how much to get, what to choose, how much to spend... Plus, it was distracting to shop with your potions teacher glaring at you. He addressed Snape, his eyes on the floor. "What do you want me to get?"

S.S.

Severus realised a little belatedly that Potter seemed rather at a loss and cursed his muggle relatives for making this process more difficult. He paused for a moment to think. "Six tops and four pairs of trousers, minimum. You have twenty minutes."

He watched Potter gaze uncertainly around the store for five minutes, then for a further five pick things up only to put them back again after seeing the price tag. "Today, Potter," he said, grabbing a shirt from a rack next to the boy and holding it up to him, judging the size. Potter stood stock still, gaping at him. "Yes or no?" he asked roughly. 

"Err, yes, I guess." Snape nodded and threw the top into his arms. They carried on in the same way until Snape was satisfied that they'd got enough.

H.P.

Harry was feeling distinctly odd. The man was picking out clothes for him, he was actually picking out his clothes! It was a relief and a bit of a shock when his teacher started picking things out for him, but he hadn't really known what he was allowed to get. As they queued for the till he looked doubtfully at the tags. Each item was around £20 or £30.

He opened his mouth to say something but Snape had been watching him out of the corner of his eye. "One more word about money, Potter, and you'll find yourself under a silencing charm until I get it through your thick skull to stop questioning me," he hissed, so that the nearby muggles couldn't hear.

Harry sent him a furious glare. He wouldn't! If the school was paying for all this and they thought that the Dursleys would repay them, then they were dead wrong. They would never pay for any of these clothes and it was better Snape knew that now so that Harry could just pay it all back.

It probably wasn't a good idea to defy Snape in public. He had no intention of getting told off in front of the entire high street, so Harry bit his tongue, for now at least.

---

S.S.

It had been a rather strange morning, Severus mused as he prepared lunch after sending Potter to begin his homework. The boy had been argumentative and rude, just as expected, but he did display some intriguing behaviour. The flattening of his fringe, which could only have been to hide his scar, not to mention the use of a fake name in the same instance. It didn't match the fame hungry Potter that he taught at Hogwarts, but perhaps there was a reason that he did not want that boy to know who he was. It didn't necessarily mean anything.

Then there was the issue with the money; the boy would just not let it go. He had assured him that he had no need to pay for anything, yet he had insisted, even when he knew he was making him angry. He wondered why it was so important to him. No child really thought that much about money, especially one with a vault full of gold.

He turned around to place the sandwiches in the middle of the kitchen table, stopping short when he spotted Harry standing in the doorway.

H.P.

He knew Snape would be mad if he brought the money thing up again, but he just had to explain. Snape would be even angrier if he thought that he had kept the truth from him and the Dursleys would be really angry if they had to pay for all of those clothes. It was all right for Snape, he never had to see the Dursleys again if he didn't want to. He'd rather face Snape's wrath right now, than the Dursleys' when they saw how expensive that lot had all been.

He'd faced worse than an irate potions professor since he'd been at Hogwarts. "They won't pay the money back, sir," he said. He saw the professor's expression turn dark and ploughed on before he could hand out some sort of punishment before he understood. "Just let me pay the school's money back. I'm going to have to give it back anyway when they refuse and this way you don't have to ask them. Please don't ask them, it just makes things more... difficult." He stopped twisting his hands together. He felt pathetic but he didn't want to see the Dursleys again with this hanging over his head, and if they did pay for his clothes they would surely get rid of them as soon as he went back, or sell them just to spite him.

He couldn't fathom Snape's expression when he replied. "You are aware that you are living with me this summer, Mr Potter." Harry looked at him and nodded. "A verbal response is necessary."

"Yes, sir."

"Then it is of no consequence how your relatives," he spat the word with disgust, "react to anything concerning you."

"When I go back–" Harry started, but Snape cut him off.

"You will not go back, Mr Potter." Harry ignored that particular response before moving onto his next argument.

"I'll owe the school the money anyway–" Yet again Snape did not allow him to finish.

"Mr. Potter, there is no intention to demand your relatives reimburse the money. The money is spent and nothing is owed, so sit down and eat your lunch. When you finish you will remain in your room until dinner; your punishment from this morning stands," he stated coldly, sitting across from Harry and disappearing behind a potions journal.

 

H.P.

He'd been living with Snape for three days now. The day after they'd gone shopping had been odd; it was the first time that he'd really taken a look at the clothes that Snape had picked out for him and he had to admit that he liked them. They were easily the nicest clothes he'd ever owned. Snape had insisted that he throw out the horrible clothes that the Dursleys had given him and it hadn't taken long for him to have the whole lot banished. It was a liberating feeling, but Snape likely just wanted to stop him cluttering the place up.

Snape wasn't around other than for mealtimes and to return his homework with an indecent amount of red scrawl all over it. Harry followed suit. In his free time he made sure that he was as far as possible from the dungeons for as long as possible. Sometimes it was even possible for parts of the day to pretend he wasn't living with Snape. Occasionally, he would run into a teacher on their way in or out, but other than that he was living a solitary lifestyle and he soon realised that he hadn't heard from anyone and was unlikely to be able to if he didn't tell them that he wasn't staying with the Dursleys. He had yet to reply to Sirius' letter from the train journey, so he decided that in the afternoon he would write.

Sirius,

Thanks for the permission slip! It'll be great to be able to go to Hogsmeade without my invisibility cloak and without getting in trouble afterwards. Ron says thanks for the owl – he was really chuffed. I'm writing because I wanted to tell you that if you want to write to me this summer, I won't be at the Dursleys. You can write to me at Hogwarts instead. I hope you're enjoying wherever you are.

– Harry

He reread his letter. That sounds fine. He didn't have to tell Sirius he was staying with Snape seeing as he'd probably just get angry. It was obvious they hated each other and if Sirius kicked up a fuss they might make him go back to the Dursleys this summer and he didn't want that at all. It was best all round if he didn't find out.

Harry finished his letter in good time and had plenty of time left to head up to the owlery and get it sent, so he grabbed another piece of parchment and quickly scribbled 'Gone to owlery' and threw it onto the kitchen table. He took his time getting there. He loved wandering the halls of Hogwarts, even if it was completely deserted. He loved feeling amongst so much magic, it was so un-Dursleyish.

These were the same halls that his parents had walked down twenty odd years before. They would have seen the same paintings and hurried by the same classrooms that he did every day. It was probably his biggest connection he had to his parents, besides the photo album that Hagrid had given him in his first year.

He reached the owlery and called out to Hedwig. She was easy to spot amongst the plain brown school owls and Harry smiled as she flew down to join him. "Hey, have you missed me?" Hedwig looked pleased that he had finally come to see her and nipped his finger affectionately. "I have a letter for you to send," he told her as he tied it to her leg. He stroked her gently before she flew off. She was usually the only living creature that actually liked him during the summers at the Dursleys. In the dungeons there was nobody who liked him and it was more than a little depressing.

He gazed out the window enjoying the summer weather, glad to be anywhere that wasn't the gloomy dungeons. As he stared out over the grounds he saw Fang and Hagrid emerge from the forbidden forest, making their way over to Hagrid's hut. Of course! He could visit Hagrid. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?

He ran all the way from the owlery to the main doors, dodging peeves as he hovered overhead blowing raspberries. He secretly thought that Peeves was happy that he was here for the holidays, but maybe that was because he had a target for his mischief. Luckily, he couldn't get into the teacher's quarters, so he was safe, at least for the most part.

The grounds were just as deserted as the castle but he walked cheerfully as the sun beamed down and he made his way to Hagrid's hut. After several booming barks from Fang, Hagrid opened the door. When he looked down, he seemed surprised to see him.

"HARRY! I wondered when yeh'd be down ter see me 'n Fang. Come in, come in. Calm yehself Fang," he said, holding the boarhound back from bowling Harry over.

"Sorry I didn't come over earlier but I saw you and Fang from the owlery and figured it would be a good time to say hi." Harry looked around happily, settling himself by the, thankfully extinguished, fire.

"Yer always welcome, Harry. So what're yeh doing at Hogwarts fer the summer? The Dursleys bin given yeh trouble?" Hagrid looked concerned as he settled into the armchair.

"Um, well I'd barely got there when Snape turned up and brought me back to the castle. So you didn't know that Dumbledore'd changed his mind?" Harry asked, patting Fang on the head and wiping the dog's drool off of his trousers.

"No, but he does what he thinks is best. Yeh gotta trust the man, Harry. So yeh're the only student up at the castle?"

"Yeah, it's a bit weird. I'm really glad that I get to stay here though."

"Yeh're not staying up in the tower, are yeh?" Hagrid asked, frowning.

"No, Dumbledore put me with Snape in the dungeons." Harry pulled a face.

"How're yeh getting on with Professor Snape?"

"As well as I can, I think. He hasn't killed me and used me for potions ingredients yet," he joked.

Hagrid nodded but he didn't look happy. "Would yeh like a rock cake?" he asked.

"Umm." Harry was too polite to refuse and found his hands full of Hagrid's notoriously bad cooking.

S.S.

Severus was brewing in the dungeon's biggest potions lab. It was his favourite place in the castle; it was his room, peaceful and quiet, a place where he could truly brew without distraction. He had orders from the infirmary and with the responsibility of looking after Potter for the summer there was a risk he would fall behind with his schedule.

Living with the boy was not proving to be as bad as he had first thought. In truth, he hadn't actually spent any time with him other than at mealtimes, which were a tense affair at best, and to give him back his homework. It was a situation he was desperately hoping would continue. This way he fulfilled his obligation to Lily but didn't have to face the doppelganger of James Potter.

Hearing a knock at the door, he looked up, putting a stasis charm on the potion. He wasn't expecting anyone and most people knew not to disturb him when he was brewing.

"Enter," he called. He frowned in displeasure when the door opened to reveal Albus Dumbledore. He hadn't spoken to the headmaster since their discussion about Potter. As far as he was concerned he either was not taking him seriously or did not believe his issues with the boy's living conditions were significant and both of those options left him...displeased.

"Severus, good afternoon," the headmaster said solemnly.

"Headmaster," Severus replied shortly.

When it did not seem as if anything else was forthcoming from the Potions Master, his employer spoke again. "It would seem we have some issues to discuss. I have an apology I would like to make. Perhaps we could discuss this in a more comfortable setting."

"My quarters might be more appropriate." He banished his potion, as the stasis charm would not last against interference and it wouldn't be the first time that peeves had exploded one of his cauldrons.

They walked in relative silence the short distance to Severus' quarters and they both waited until they were seated in his living room before resuming their discussion.

"Severus, I would like to apologise. I fear that I may have been so blinded by my desire to protect Harry from the threat of Voldemort that I did not take your concerns as seriously as perhaps you deserved."

Severus was rather taken aback by the apology. "Indeed. Your apology is accepted."

"I'd like to check up on Harry before I leave the castle for a few weeks to complete some errands."

"I take it you desire to have the conversation now?"

"If at all possible, my dear boy."

Severus went to the kitchen table to find out where Potter was. "Tippy," he called out, causing a loud pop and a house elf to appear before him. "Go to the owlery and inform Mr. Potter that he needs to return here as soon as possible." With that he returned to the living room. No sooner had he sat down than the elf had reappeared.

"Professor Snape, sir?" the elf asked timidly.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Potter is not in the owlery, sir." The elf looked quite frightened, as if she feared that she would be blamed for Potter's disappearance. Severus scowled darkly.

"That will be all. Go back to the kitchens."

He strode over to Harry's door, knocking loudly then opening it to reveal an empty room. His scowl deepened.

"It would seem that Potter believes himself to be above my rules," he muttered angrily.

"Now, Severus, don't be too hard on him," Dumbledore said calmly.

Severus dismissed his words with a sneer. "If he finds himself willing to obey any of my rules he is due to return in thirty minutes."

H.P.

Harry left Hagrid's with his hands full of the rock cakes he hadn't wanted to refuse and an extremely big grin on his face. It had been great to see Hagrid and to be able to actually talk. They had spoken about tons of things, Buckbeak, Quidditch and all the creatures Hagrid was preparing to use in classes next year. Harry was a little worried by the latter topic but decided that nothing could be as bad as Norbert. He had found it hard to keep from smiling as he pretended he had no idea where the hippogriff was, but much as Hagrid might miss Buckbeak, he knew that Sirius would be taking good care of him.

He arrived back in the dungeons with five minutes to spare and was feeling rather proud of himself for getting so much done that day. When he entered Snape's quarters he was surprised to find Professor Dumbledore sitting on the sofa and an extremely irate potions master glaring at him.

"Harry, my boy, do sit down," Dumbledore said, smiling at him over his half-moon spectacles.

"Oh, um. Okay." 

Snape turned and left to go in the kitchen, probably to make dinner or finish it as it was seven and he usually had it made and on the table.

"You'll have to wait a little longer to eat Harry, I came for a quick word," Dumbledore said, following his gaze.

Harry put his rock cakes on the table, brushing the crumbs off his hands. "Ah, Hagrid's rock cakes," Dumbledore commented with some amusement.

"Yeah, I couldn't finish them there," Harry grinned back.

"I myself prefer something a little sweeter… To the matter at hand, Harry. How are you settling in here?" 

"Good, I guess," Harry hedged.

"You and Professor Snape are getting along well?"

"Uh, sort of."

"It would seem that Remus has informed your Godfather of your new living arrangements," Dumbledore informed him delicately.

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh." By the tone of Dumbledore's voice he half expected Sirius to burst in at any moment.

"You are aware that Professor Snape and Sirius do not get along very well."

"Yes, sir," said Harry, barely containing a snort of amusement at the understatement of the century. Dumbledore, seeming to understand, nodded his head.

"If you could write to Sirius he would be reassured that you are, in fact, quite all right."

"I sent him a letter today but I just said I was staying at Hogwarts."

"It is just enough that he's hearing from you, I'm sure. Anyway Harry, I must go, I will be away from the castle for a few weeks." He stood up and moved towards the door, turning back to Harry once again. "Do listen to Professor Snape. Goodbye, Severus."

"Bye, sir," Harry said, watching him leave. He hadn't noticed Snape reappear in the living room and the man still looked angry.

"Potter! Kitchen. Now."

What was he so mad about? He was sure he hadn't done anything to make him angry. He half wished Dumbledore would come back; Snape wouldn't be able to dish out his usual diatribes or unreasonable punishments if he were there to see it.

"Absolutely typical behaviour from the famous Harry Potter. Too much of a celebrity to follow the rules," Snape snarled.

So it was him he was mad at… He tried to think of what rules he was meant to have broken but came up blank. "I came back on time."

Snape continued as if he hadn't spoken, spitting out the words more harshly as he spoke. "You must be aware of the rules, Potter. You were capable of remembering them when you left my quarters."

Harry frowned but caught sight of the note on the kitchen table and realisation dawned. "Oh!" he exclaimed with wide eyes. He looked up at Severus's scowl. "Oh," he repeated quietly.

"Oh, indeed."

"But I just– I forgot!"

"A likely explanation. Of course, you have always believed yourself to be above the rules," Snape said and Harry recognised the look of loathing he wore in potions class. His own anger bubbled under the surface at Snape's unjustified cruelty.

"I don't think I'm above rules." 

"Really, Potter?" Snape questioned dangerously, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, really," Harry snapped back. He realised when the words left his mouth that he may have gone too far but he held the taller man's gaze.

"Get out." Harry didn't need to be told twice.

S.S.

Of all the rude and arrogant things that boy has done! He dares, he dares talk back to him after he took him in and bought him clothes. He does what he has always done, blatantly disregard rules put in place for his safety. Time and time again he crosses lines put in place by better, more intelligent people for his own protection. The boy is exactly the same as his father was. He too thought that mere rules were utterly beneath him.

After a few minutes of angry brooding Severus noticed that the boy's plate of food remained untouched. He had no desire to call the boy out and have him eat at the table; he didn't think his temper would survive the boy's presence any more that evening.

His bedroom door wasn't shut completely and Severus opened it silently to see Potter sitting on the edge of his bed staring at a single point on the floor. Potter ran his hand through his hair wearily and shut his eyes, not realising that he was no longer alone. Severus cleared his throat, causing his head to shoot up and he stared back at him with wide eyes. Severus put the plate on the boy's desk. "You are grounded for the remainder of the week. You will not leave these quarters. I obviously cannot trust you to follow the rules regarding your free time, therefore you have lost it. After you've eaten, I want you to write down the rules I gave you when you came here and explain their importance."

The boy gave no indication that he had heard Severus, choosing to resume staring at the floor. He wondered why he went to such extremes to protect this boy. Perhaps the headmaster was right; he would be better off with his relatives. As he turned to leave he heard an intake of breath as if the child was going to say something, but he heard nothing so just shut the door.

H.P.

He didn't want to go back to the Dursleys; he couldn't get sent back there. Part of him wanted to apologise and try to fix everything just so he could stay but Snape was wrong. He wasn't all the things that he accused him of and it was unfair of him to rip him to shreds every time he stepped slightly out of line – and he always got so personal. The man was an absolute git! He hadn't even meant to break the rules; he'd just made an honest mistake.

Harry wasn't so hungry any more and ignored the food but figured he might as well do Snape's stupid work.

1. Don't go in Professor Snape's room. This is important because he clearly has something to hide he wants me to respect his privacy and stay out of his way.

2. Eat at the dinner table as long as it's convenient to Snape. He smirked as he wrote that particular line looking at the meal sitting on his desk. It is important because it is good manners to eat at the table and I might spill food if I eat it somewhere else.

3. Give in my homework after I do it. This is important because Snape isn't happy unless he's insulted someone else's work at least once a day he wants me to do my work properly.

4. Tell him where I'm going in my free time. This is important because he would have to waste time looking for me if he didn't know where I was.

He couldn't think of anything else so just abandoned the list by his plate of food and decided to vent his frustration by writing to Ron instead.

Ron,

Hey mate! How are you? Say hi to everyone at the burrow for me. I'm not at the Dursleys this summer because Dumbledore's letting me stay at Hogwarts. It's not all good news – I'm living with Snape! It's horrible, Ron, you have no idea. I need help or I'm going to go mental. Write back soon.

– Harry

Now that he was grounded he wouldn't be able to go up to the owlery. Maybe he could use his invisibility cloak to send his letter or get a house elf to help… Just as he was formulating his plan Snape returned.

"I asked you to eat your dinner." Harry looked away from him, folding his letter, unwilling to see how angry Snape was now that he'd disobeyed him yet again. He did as he was told though, picking up his fork and toying with his food half-heartedly. He continued ignoring Snape as he read through his list. It was unnerving to have him read through it right in front of him. Snape was silent for a long time. Maybe he'd made the man even angrier, or Snape had always hidden the fact that he was the world's slowest reader.

"This is incorrect, Mr. Potter," Snape said in a calmer voice than he had spoken in all evening.

It is not! Harry bit his tongue, hard.

"Take your plate and bring it to the kitchen." Harry reluctantly complied, not eager to spend more time in Snape's company.

When they reached the kitchen, Snape flicked his wand at Harry's plate of food and Harry could feel the heat coming off of it. "Eat. Now. I will talk and you will not interrupt."

He placed Harry's list between them on the table. "I require you to tell me your whereabouts in this castle for your safety. This is a magical castle, it is in itself a dangerous place. During term there are many teachers and students and you are free to roam at your leisure. Now, there is just me. If you get lost or hurt or go missing, there is just me. Do you understand?" He spoke evenly and clearly as if willing Harry to understand a new concept.

He would have thought Snape would love it if he went missing in the castle never to be found. It'd be like Christmas come early for him. Snape was still waiting for a reply though, and he did sound oddly sincere. Did he understand any of this? "Yes, sir," Harry lied. 

 

H.P.

Harry had spent a very dull week inside Snape's dungeons as both of its occupants continued to do their utmost to keep out of each other's way. Harry still hadn't sent his letter to Ron, and with each passing day he was becoming more and more anxious to send it. It wasn't particularly because the sentiment of the letter was that important but it had been almost a week since Harry had left the Dursleys, and considering the events of the summer after his second year, his friends got quite anxious if they hadn't heard from him. If he waited any longer they might actually decide to go there to make sure that he was okay. If wizards turned up on the doorstep of number four again the Dursleys would be livid, and when Harry had to face them again they would be even angrier with him than when he left, which would be saying something.

He needed that letter sent and he had a plan. He was putting the finishing touches to his homework ready to give in at eleven. He had been working on this piece of homework on and off for days and he was going to do an amazing job, Hermione style, so that Snape would hopefully be in a good enough mood to let him send his letter.

He dipped his quill in the ink pot and tapped it absentmindedly to get rid of the excess, staring at the parchment thoughtfully. He'd already done a foot more than what was assigned and he'd written it extra neat. Doing any more would probably be going too far; it wouldn't be worth it even if he did get to send his letter. He could hardly believe that Hermione did this on a daily basis. How could Snape not be impressed?

He went to the kitchen and put his essay in the middle of the table as he did every day. Today, though, instead of going back to his own room, he was going to stay in the living room. That way when Snape marked it, and presumably decided it was the best he'd get out of him, he could ask him about his letter right away, before the man found some reason to be angry with him. It was bound to work.

He had a lot of time left to burn and he couldn't just sit around doing nothing until he put the final part of his plan into action. In the corner of the room, Snape had a chessboard set up as though ready to play. Though, who he ever played with was a mystery. 

Harry ran into his own room to grab his own set. His weren't that experienced but you needed two sets to practice properly, he'd seen Ron at it. He wasn't all that into chess, it was more Ron's thing, but he did enjoy making the pieces beat each other up. That would pass some time until Snape came back to make lunch.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was embroiled in a vicious battle between the two sets of chess pieces. He'd named all of Snape's set as various Slytherins and his own as Gryffindors. If anyone cared to notice, it wasn't so much a battle as a systematic Slytherin slaughter, but this way it was actually fun. Harry had learnt how to play games by himself when he was young out of necessity; with the Dursleys he would have died of boredom otherwise.

"G4, Seamus, take him out!" Harry watched as the pawns wrestled and 'Seamus' dragged 'Goyle' off the board. "Right, well, Crabbe's gone mental because he can't live without Goyle… Suicide mission to F3. Dean goes in to finish the job… hit him. What are you waiting for?" he scolded one of his pawns.

"Having fun, are we?" Snape asked, peering over his shoulder. Harry yelped and jumped up so suddenly he knocked the chess board over, scattering screaming pieces all over the floor. Harry moaned, looking at the mess. He knew that his face was crimson. How long Snape had been listening to his chess battle? At certain points it had gotten quite silly and he hadn't exactly asked to use it.

"You are aware that is not the correct way to play chess, are you not?"

Why wasn't he screaming at him or grounding him? He'd touched his stuff and the Dursleys hated when he touched their stuff. What's worse was he'd gone and dropped it all over the floor. Snape was going to go mental any second. He'd never get his letter sent at this rate.

"I'm sorry."

Snape rolled his eyes, seeming unaware of Harry's mounting confusion. "Clean it up, Mr. Potter, and refrain from that kind of idiocy in my presence. Lupin has asked me to inform you that he will arrive at 10 o'clock tomorrow to pick you up. I suggest that you are ready to leave promptly."

Harry gaped, not able to believe his luck. No detention or threats to cancel his day out with Professor Lupin? Maybe he still had a chance to get up to the owlery after all.

S.S.

Severus had returned to his quarters to check up on the boy. He'd made a habit of returning regularly to make sure the boy wasn't sneaking off in his invisibility cloak to get out of his punishment.

It was peculiar to see the boy at ease when he thought no one was watching. He had no adoring fans to entertain here. Potter was clearly used to entertaining himself, but his apology was odd. Of all the things he decided to apologise for, he chose to do so for something entirely unnecessary. It was obvious that he thought he was doing something wrong; he had an unmistakable look of guilt on his face.

He intended to mark Potter's work ready to give back at lunch. His homework so far had been average at best, though it was far better than what he usually gave in after the summer. After the scene he had witnessed at his relatives household he assumed that Potter wouldn't have had much of an opportunity to complete summer assignments if his trunk was being locked away every year.

Cutting his musings short, he looked over the assignment on the table. It was his own and he'd only asked for three feet. Unfurling the parchment he saw that Potter had given him at least four and surprisingly it was in the most readable writing he had seen the boy put on parchment. What was he up to?

He marked the work they way he would any other and there was still a fair amount of red ink on the page. It was obvious that the boy had made an actual effort but he wasn't going to commend him for something he ought to do in the first place. He quickly put some sandwiches out and waited for Potter to join him. When he came in he ate his food quickly, without taking his eyes off of his plate.

"Your work, Mr. Potter." Severus slid the parchment over to his side of the table. He was curious to find out what had caused the boy to make a true attempt at the assignment. The boy gave it a thoughtful once over whilst eating and he seemed fairly pleased, despite the fact that Severus had not been generous at all.

Suddenly the boy cleared his throat. "I know I'm grounded–" This will no doubt be it... "–but I need to send a letter. Is there any way I could get it sent today, sir?" He spoke boldly and Severus wasn't sure if it was because he was confident of getting his way or if it was just his Gryffindor side coming through.

He was a little intrigued that the boy had gone to quite a special effort all so that he could have a letter sent when he only had to wait until the very next day before his grounding was over and he was free to go to the owlery. He would find nothing out if he acquiesced straight away. "As touching as your devotion to your little friends is, Potter, you may send your letter yourself tomorrow."

Severus' curiosity was piqued as Potter drew in a sharp breath behind gritted teeth, evidently trying to rein in his temper before he answered. "Please, sir. I'd really like to send it today."

He could quite easily have the letter sent that day but the boy's effort and agitation made him certain that he ought to know the reason behind his request.

"May I remind you of our conversation a few days ago? I informed you that if you felt you could not obey my request you may explain to me why." Severus regarded the boy somewhat coolly as he took quite some time to give him an answer.

"My friends think that I'm with the Dursleys and I haven't written to them yet."

"Try again, Mr. Potter. That was not an adequate explanation." It's like pulling teeth.

Potter huffed and it was clear that he was battling between his desire to not give away too much and his wish to get his letter sent. "They'll be worried and they can be rash. They might go there to check up on me."

So that was it. His friends must be somewhat aware of Potter's treatment at the hands of his relatives. He did wonder what exactly made the boy fear that they would go to the Dursleys' in search of him and why that would be so terrible, but he could not give an adequate reason why he would pry further. "You are in luck. I had intended to take care of some correspondence this afternoon. Leave the letter on the table." With that he swept off back to his lab.

H.P.

Well, that hadn't gone too bad. He'd have his letter sent after all. For a second there he thought that he'd done all that work for no reason. He grabbed the letter from his desk drawer and threw it on the table. He'd considered writing a separate one for Hermione but asking Snape to send two letters might be pushing his luck.

---

The next morning Harry woke up with a wide smile. He wasn't grounded any more! Feeling optimistic about the weather, he grabbed a t-shirt. He had no idea what Professor Lupin had planned, but any change of scenery was a good thing.

He couldn't help but bound into the kitchen, and his foot tapped repeatedly on the floor as he wolfed down his breakfast. Snape sneered at him over his newspaper.

"Try to eat like a human being, Potter. The headmaster would be irritated with me if I allowed you to choke to death." Snape rolled his eyes as though he couldn't understand the headmaster's thought process.

He didn't let Snape bother him. Quite frankly he couldn't care less if Snape was in a bad mood; his whole life must be one long bad mood.

After breakfast he sat on the sofa opposite the fireplace waiting eagerly for Professor Lupin to arrive. 

S.S.

The boy was irritatingly happy this morning, obviously excited to be leaving. His table manners had been more appalling than usual and now he sat in the living room practically bouncing off of his seat. Severus too, was awaiting Lupin's arrival, although with a lot less excitement. He was going to see off the boy before enjoying his blissfully Potter-free day.

He sat on a separate sofa finishing off the daily prophet but he could still see Potter fidgeting out of the corner of his eye.

"If you can't sit still, you can go to your room," he bit out, casting an angry glare at his student. They sat in a tense silence after that, neither speaking and both looking angry until the fire turned green, expelling a smiling Remus Lupin.

"Harry!" he greeted warmly as the boy in question jumped up excitedly.

"Hi, Professor."

"Remus, Harry," Lupin corrected. "I'm not your teacher any more. Severus, is there a particular time you need him back?"

"By six if you don't intend on feeding him, otherwise nine will be fine," Severus replied curtly.

"Dinner won't be a problem. I'll have him back at nine."

Severus nodded unconcernedly and left for his most peaceful day since term ended.

H.P.

After tumbling out of the floo, Harry found himself in Remus' study. It was obvious that his former teacher was struggling financially; the furniture was worn and shabby and the walls colourless. It was very different from the burrow, which was vibrant and full of life, and it didn't look as if Remus made a special effort trying to make the house more homely.

"It's not much, but the garden's quite big and the weather's nice so we can sit outside and you can tell me about your summer so far," Remus said, stepping out of the floo behind Harry and leading the way through the house.

The garden was surprisingly wild and Harry was glad to be out in the sun and fresh air. He settled on the grass, lying on his back, looking up at the sparse few clouds. Remus sat down on the ground next to him instead of bringing seats out.

He cleared his throat quietly, watching Harry closely. "So, why are you not staying with your aunt and uncle?" he asked, looking serious.

"I don't know. I've asked Professor Dumbledore if I could stay at Hogwarts before but he's always said no. But then this year I went back to the Dursleys and I'd barely been there twenty minutes when Snape came and took me back to Hogwarts." 

"Professor Snape brought you back?" Remus pressed.

"Yeah, I suppose Dumbledore sent him."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "How are you two getting on?"

"Uhhhmm. I don't know," Harry answered, screwing up his face in thought. He didn't want to say they weren't getting along seeing as Sirius had already kicked up a fuss and that might make it worse. Plus, he hadn't been much worse than expected. He said horrible things a lot, and he made it quite obvious that he didn't want him around...

Remus cut Harry's musings short. "Is it better staying with Professor Snape than your relatives?"

"Oh, yeah, it is. He feeds me and stuff and he leaves me alone mostly. Dumbledore says there's no one else who can look after me this summer."

Remus frowned which was weird because he hadn't said anything bad about Snape really. "Don't hesitate to contact me or Sirius if you need anything. If it had been possible either one of us would have taken you."

"Yeah, Sirius offered…" Harry began but changed his mind, not wanting to talk about that. "Dumbledore said Sirius was mad because I'm staying with Snape." 

"Sirius can be a little hot-headed sometimes. He's finding it a little hard to look past his schoolboy grudge. He just wants what's best for you," he said wearily and Harry suspected that he'd had to hear a lot about it from Sirius.

"I'm OK though. I want to stay at Hogwarts, and I'm fine with staying with Snape if I don't have to go back."

"Don't worry, Harry. Professor Dumbledore and I have had a bit of a word with him. I know that you'll be fine with Severus."

He summoned some lemonade, pouring Harry a glass. They spent a good afternoon in the garden with Harry telling him about getting grounded all week and his embarrassing chess game. Remus in turn told Harry about his father and Sirius' school days.

Remus decided they would go out for a walk in the evening, saying that Harry needed to stretch his legs. "Is there anything you'd really like to do this summer?" 

"Like what?"

"Somewhere you want to visit or something you want to do."

Harry thought quite hard. He hadn't really been anywhere interesting before he turned up at Hogwarts seeing as the Dursleys never took him anywhere apart from a trip to the zoo when they couldn't get anyone to take him for the day. Dudley did a lot of things in the holidays and at weekends; he went to the cinema or bowling or ice skating. The ice skating only happened once though; it was probably too much physical exertion for him. Harry had gone with the Dursleys to pick him up though and it looked fun.

"I kind of want to go ice skating, I guess," he replied, his shoulders rounding self-consciously.

"Hmm, well that'll only take a couple of hours, so we should think of something to do for the rest of the day. Maybe we ought to do it for your birthday."

Harry grinned. That would make it the closest thing to a birthday party he'd ever had.

He was sad to leave when nine o'clock rolled around. Snape must have heard them come through because he stood waiting in the kitchen doorway.

"I see you've brought him back in one piece," he said coldly, as if he had been hoping for the exact opposite.

"Severus, I'd like to speak to you for a moment before I go," Remus said as if he hadn't spoken. Snape nodded tersely and Remus turned back to face Harry.

"It was great seeing you. I'll be here same time next week," he said, briefly squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks for today, Prof- Remus," he replied with a grin.

S.S.

He rolled his eyes. They were seeing each other in seven days for Merlin's sake. "Go to your room." Potter detached himself from the wolf and gave a short wave goodbye. Severus waited until the door closed fully before turning back to Lupin.

"I'll get straight to the point. Why did Albus give you guardianship of Harry for the summer?"

"That is between Potter and the headmaster. I would not know," he replied dismissively.

"Severus, please. I know you collected him from his relatives. You must have some idea."

He made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. Potter had obviously spoken to the wolf; it would be pointless to carry on the lie. It would be far worse if Lupin decided to speak to Albus and found out that removing Harry from the Dursleys' care had been his own idea.

"You have some concerns?" he deflected.

"Harry said something, I don't think he realised… Severus, should I be worried?" It was obvious he already was, so it was fairly pointless to ask. What had the boy let slip to cause the werewolf to have concerns?

"What did he say?"

Lupin hesitated, unsure as to whether he should reveal what Potter said, but seemed to quickly make up his mind. "I asked him whether living with you was better than living with his aunt and uncle and he said that it was because you 'feed him and stuff'."

Eloquent as ever. "That is… new," he replied carefully. Lupin paused for a moment, tiredly running his hand through his hair.

"I think it would be good for all of us to speak together, you, me, Albus and Harry. I want to know what exactly those people did to him…"

"The headmaster is away from the castle. Perhaps something can be arranged when he gets back."

 

H.P.

Harry woke up early on Sunday morning, well rested and happy after his day out with Remus. His mood improved further when he groggily dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast and Snape nodded towards the centre of the table where a single letter lay. Reading his own name in a script that he'd only ever seen once before, Harry grabbed it excitedly, tearing it open before he'd even touched his food, causing Snape to glare at him darkly. He quickly raised a spoonful of cereal to his mouth to satisfy his grumpy potions teacher, then turned his attention back to Sirius' letter.

He hesitated before unfolding the parchment. What if Sirius was angry with him for not telling him that he was with Snape? He push his apprehension back and smoothed out the parchment.

Harry,

I hope you're doing good kiddo. This is just a short letter to tell you that I'm returning to England. I don't want to be far from you while you're staying with Snape. He's dangerous. I want you to promise me that you'll be on your guard at all times; keep your wand on you wherever you are. You can write to me or Remus whenever you want, for anything. If that greasy git steps out of line, let us know.

Reply to this as soon as you can and I'll let you know when I get back into the country.

Keep safe,

Sirius

He knew that Sirius and Snape disliked each other, loathed each other was probably more appropriate, but Sirius saying that he was dangerous seemed odd seeing as Remus had said that he trusted Snape… Maybe Sirius was just overreacting. He'd just have to reassure his Godfather when he replied. Whatever Remus and Dumbledore had said to him hadn't worked to calm him down, which didn't bode well for him if Sirius kicked up a fuss and he had to go back to the Dursleys.

Sirius meant well but he knew how to look after himself; he'd been doing it for as long as he could remember. He wasn't about to let Sirius ruin one of the better things that had happened to him in a long time.

"I don't provide you with food in order to decorate the table." Harry glanced up distractedly, tearing his gaze from the letter. "Put. It. Down." Harry huffed but complied, determined to wolf down his food as quickly as possible so that he could reply to Sirius.

Snape seemed to be in a worse mood than usual. He definitely wasn't always the brightest in the morning, but the look on Snape's face was darker than he'd seen it in a long time.

S.S.

Severus Snape was in a decidedly bad mood ever since he'd seen that there was a letter for Potter in the post. He would have recognised the hideous scrawl of the Weasley sidekick and one could not mark one of Granger's epics without being able to do the same. He had a good idea whom that letter was from and the idea of Black intruding where he was certainly not wanted made his blood boil.

Black would no doubt regale the boy with stories of his and Potter senior's rule-breaking past. He would no doubt want to fill the child's head with his dangerous pranks. He proved himself fully capable of premeditated murder when he sent Severus to the shrieking shack and a man like that shouldn't be allowed near a child.

Potter was enough like his arrogant rule-breaking father as it was, he didn't need that blasted dog being any more of a bad influence. Whatever the imbecile had written was clearly enthralling as the boy just couldn't put his letter down and he couldn't get away fast enough. Not that that was a problem. He wouldn't argue against having decidedly less Potter around.

Severus returned yet again to his quarters before Potter was due to be back for lunch in order to check the boy's homework, as was his new habit. The boy's last attempt had been, in truth, fairly impressive, for Potter that is.

He dragged the parchment towards him, sneering in disgust as he read through what seemed like less than a half-hearted attempt at the charms assignment. He did not even dignify it with his red quill. He noted that Potter was currently in the owlery and so he waited, seething, for him to return. If Potter thought that he was going to accept such slipshod work from him, he had another thing coming. It had been mere hours since the child had received that damned letter from the mutt and already his behaviour was worsening.

H.P.

Harry had spent the majority of the morning constructing a carefully written reply to Sirius, admittedly to the detriment of his homework, but it was never good enough for Snape and he could just redo it later. He really wanted to get the letter to Sirius before he made it back to England. He couldn't bear it if the closest thing to family he had got caught just because of him, and when he was perfectly safe, too.

He also wanted to find out exactly why Sirius thought that Snape was dangerous. Remus wouldn't tell him seeing as he obviously didn't agree with Sirius.

He re-read his letter as he climbed the steps to the owlery.

Sirius,

I got your letter. Please don't come back here, I'm really okay. Dumbledore's at Hogwarts and I see Hagrid all the time, plus I see Remus every Saturday for the whole day. I'm really not in any danger, even if Snape wanted to kill me. I really don't think he's a danger to me though. Dumbledore and Remus both said they trust him and he's saved my life twice – if he wanted to do me in he could have just not saved me. What makes you think he's dangerous?

I know you don't like him and I don't either. He's a nasty, greasy bat but I really want to stay at Hogwarts this summer. Don't worry about me – I really don't want to risk you getting caught.

Best,

Harry

That was as persuasive as he got. He had no idea what else to put to make him stop worrying and not come back. 

Harry smiled as he reached the top of the staircase, this was his first visit to the owlery since he had been grounded the week before and Hedwig was obviously put out by his disappearance. "Sorry girl, Snape wouldn't let me out to see you, but I promise I'll come by more."

She flew down towards him, hooted once and nipped his finger. He wasn't entirely sure he was forgiven as she'd bitten quite hard but it would do. "I have a special job for you. Get this to Sirius as fast as you can." He carefully attached the letter to her leg and sent her off out the window before hurrying quickly back to the dungeons. He didn't want to be late and risk another grounding. Honestly, anything could set that man off and he'd looked so angry that morning…

Harry hurtled into the kitchen and threw himself down at the table just in time for lunch. This time, however, it was not out and prepared as per usual. Snape preferred to have it ready so that the meal started and finished as quickly as possible, probably so they didn't have to spend any time together as opposed to him having anything better to do.

Harry looked up in confusion and met the Potion Master's furious glare. What had he done now? Snape seemed to be trying to make Harry squirm by remaining silent so it was up to him to break the silence. "Sir?"

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape held out Harry's homework as if it was something disgusting. Harry could see where this was going; he really hadn't thought it would be a big deal. Evidently he was wrong.

"Err, that's my charms homework," he said, shifting in his seat. Snape stood abruptly so that he loomed over Harry, who refused to shrink back. Honestly, he'd do it again if it was that big of a deal.

"You think yourself above my rules, Potter? Rules shouldn't apply to famous Harry Potter." He seemed to relish saying his surname, as if he was throwing a particularly hurtful insult.

"I don't think that," Harry replied indignantly.

"Your arrogance is astounding."

"I'm not arrogant!" An angry flush rose in Harry's cheeks but it was obvious that Snape wasn't finished.

"You're just as big-headed as your father before you, a mediocre wizard getting by on a meagre amount of talent at Quidditch," Snape spat viciously.

"I'm not," Harry yelled, standing up. "And he wasn't mediocre. My dad was a great wizard, everyone says so." At Harry's words Snape's face contorted into a particularly hateful glare.

"Your father was a vile bully just as you're nothing but a vile, little boy."

"SHUT UP," Harry roared at him before escaping to his room, trying desperately to control his temper.

"POTTER." Snape stormed into Harry's room, slamming the door open so that it banged against the wall. "You dare scream at me in my quarters? I will not tolerate it."

Harry couldn't care less how angry Snape was. How could he call anyone else a bully? He was the biggest, pettiest bully he'd ever laid eyes on. "You're a hypocrite! Whatever you think of my dad, you're a hundred times worse."

At Harry's words Snape's face transformed into a mask of pure anger and loathing. He hadn't looked so angry since the shrieking shack incident. Fury was etched in every line of his face. It occurred to Harry, a little belatedly, that he might have pushed Snape too far.

It seemed as if things were moving in slow motion. As Snape drew his wand out of his robes, Harry instinctively stumbled backwards, catching the back of his foot on his desk chair and losing balance. He registered a sharp pain as the side of his head smacked into the edge of his desk and he threw out an arm to stop his fall. He stared, eyes wide in shock, at his teacher as he sat sprawled out on his bedroom floor.

S.S.

Severus intended to draw his wand and burn the poor excuse for homework in front of the brat, but instead could only watch as Potter retreated from him, managing to fall over his desk chair and hit his head, hard. He quickly scanned the boy for injuries, his eyes resting on the side of his head where a large bruise was already forming and blood dripped from a scrape, evidently from where he'd caught the edge of the desk.

His eyes met the wide green eyes that were staring up at him, eyes so much like Lily's, and suddenly he felt ashamed. Her eyes were watching him with a mixture of shock, fear and pain. The boy had never looked less like his father; he looked like the vulnerable child that Severus had known he was when he had brought him back to Hogwarts. And all because of a poor attempt at his homework. But that wasn't the entire truth of the matter; he had been unfairly taking his anger and bitterness about Black on the boy.

He did not hesitate to kneel in front of the child, but as he swept closer Potter flinched back again, banging his head against the desk and he groaned in pain. Severus waved his wand in a swift but complex gesture and an orb appeared beside his head collating information.

Severus watched it intently as he rattled off questions. "What is your name?" 

"Harry," Potter answered softly, his voice coloured by confusion.

"When is your birthday?"

"The 31st of July."

"What is the address of your aunt and uncle's home?"

"Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. What are you–?"

As Potter began to speak the orb glowed green and Severus held up a hand to signal that he should be quiet and the boy fell silent. Severus read the report carefully, checking for any signs of serious injury.

"It would appear there is no internal damage. Do you feel sick or dizzy?" 

"No, I'm okay," he replied quickly. Severus nodded and reached for his chin to attend to the injury on the side of his head, but Potter pulled back. "I'm okay," he repeated.

"I need to see to your injury, Mr. Potter," Severus said calmly, keeping his frustration at the boy's uncooperative behaviour from his voice.

He reached again for the boy's chin, tilting his head to the side to assess the damage to his head. He wordlessly healed the cut and spelled away the blood. It was quite clear that the boy was just as uncomfortable as he was being in such close proximity. He held himself rigidly and determinedly looked away as Severus worked. He certainly hoped it was discomfort and not fear that he would lash out.

The bruise would require a salve to take care of the pain and swelling, which Severus summoned from his own rooms. Opening the jar and still holding Potter's chin firmly in one hand, with the other he rubbed the salve as gently and efficiently he could onto the bruise. It was obviously very painful as the moment he began Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Severus would have expected him to complain but he remained silent. When he was finished, the boy looked much better and he released him from his grasp.

"Thanks," Potter said quietly, making careful study of the carpet. The Potter he knew would not thank him for healing injuries that he must blame him for causing.

"Any other injuries?"

"No, I'm fine. Really," Harry insisted once again.

"Go to the kitchen. It is still time for lunch." He watched the boy leave and pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was not going well at all. He brought him here to protect him and to give him the chance at a comfortable childhood without neglect and hatred. He was supposed to be keeping his promise to Lily's memory, to protect her sacrifice. Was it possible that he was making this a poorer arrangement for the boy than his relatives had? If that was the case then all of this was in vain, but he would not take the boy back to those people. He, at least, has provided the child with clothes, food and a room, which is more than those muggles did. But unless he changed the way he dealt with the boy then this situation was not going to work. Not to mention the fact that it was undignified to be screaming insults at a child.

Was he much better than the relatives he took him from? He did not have to like the boy, he did not have to be nice to him, he could just... not hurl insults at him. Lily would be satisfied with that.

He sat down opposite Potter contemplating what he wanted to say, but the child spoke instead.

"I'm sorry. I'll do it again." He looked nervous but sincere, which threw Severus off. He hadn't expected an apology, not least after the argument they had just had. He had gotten sidetracked by his own hatred of the boy's father and that ridiculous dog. His reaction had been grossly out of proportion to the boy's transgression. The boy was just like his father but if he was going to make this situation work, for Lily, he would have to rein in his temper.

"You certainly will be doing the essay again. You showed me last week that you are quite capable of completing your homework to a high standard. All of your summer work will be just as thorough, although you may stick to the requested number of feet." He worked hard to keep his voice as calm and neutral as possible. After all, he still had to speak to the boy about the incident and it would be rather ridiculous to begin another argument before that could happen.

"Yes, sir."

"I'd like to make something absolutely clear, Mr. Potter. I will raise neither a hand nor wand to you in anger, no matter how much you irritate or disobey me. Undoubtedly you will continue to do both. Is that understood?"

The boy looked embarrassed as he stared at the table and mumbled a vague 'Yessir'. There was a pause. "Sorry."

"I heard you the first time, Mr. Potter."

"No, I meant for– in my room–" He looked too embarrassed to continue and chose to continue his in-depth study of the tabletop. If Snape was a man of lesser self control his jaw might have dropped. The boy was apologising for falling over. Potter could easily blame him for the incident, but instead he was apologising.

"There is no need to apologise for hurting yourself. I'm not telling you off."

The boy didn't reply but he did look up, giving his teacher an odd look before going back to staring at the table. It was becoming a habit of his. 

Severus summoned two plates of sandwiches and placed one in front of the boy.

"Can I fly this afternoon? After I've done my homework again…?" Potter asked hopefully.

"Your free time is yours to do what you wish."

"So I'm not grounded?" he asked disbelievingly.

"No, Mr. Potter, you are not grounded."

H.P.

He shouldn't have given in his work like that; if only because he should have realised that Snape would go completely mental considering his last piece was comparatively fantastic, which just made this one look terrible. Snape didn't have to completely lose it though; it wasn't even for his class.

And why did he have to bring his father up all the time and then insult both of them? Was he just bitter because people liked his dad and they had been rivals? Snape thought he was arrogant and he was wrong about that, so he had to be wrong about his dad too. But he hadn't expected Snape to just forget that they were in the middle of a huge argument just because he'd hit his head and now he was being weirdly civil towards him, as if neither of them had been screaming at the other.

He sat at his desk in his room completing his homework. Charms wasn't so bad; it wasn't as difficult as transfiguration or as complex as potions. At four o'clock he looked at his work. It wasn't as good as his potions work had been, the charms textbook didn't have nearly as much information on its subject as the potions one did, but he had tomorrow morning still to finish so he dashed towards the kitchen, grabbing his Firebolt on the way, and wrote a note.

Professor Snape, I'm going to the Quidditch pitch for the afternoon.

It was a lot more polite than the usual notes he wrote.

 

H.P.

It was late in the evening when Harry opened his letters from Ron and Hermione. It was the first time he'd been disappointed to receive a letter from his friends. He'd been hoping for a reply from his Godfather. It had been over a week since he'd sent his letter and he'd still not had a reply. Remus had told him not to worry about it, but in the kind of tone that said he didn't want Harry to worry because he'd be doing it instead.

Would Sirius get his letter before he came all the way back or had he already been caught and that's why he hadn't replied? 

He opened his letter from Ron first, smiling automatically at the sight of his messy handwriting.

Harry!

Tough luck, mate. How did that happen? I can't believe you have to live with the greasy dungeon bat. It sounds like the worst thing that could happen to anyone. I wish you could stay with us instead.

I wrote to Hermione to tell her the news. She's not round here yet – she's coming over later on in the summer. We might be getting tickets to the Quidditch World Cup final, so hopefully when you come and visit we'll all be able to go!

Ron

The Quidditch World Cup final, that would be amazing!

He turned his attention to the neater script of Hermione's letter.

Harry,

Ron wrote to tell me that you're at Hogwarts this summer. I know that you're with Snape and you two don't get on but it's really an excellent opportunity for you. You can go to the library whenever you want. Try not to lose your temper. I hope you can stay with Ron over the summer so I can get a chance to see you, though maybe Professor Dumbledore will let us stay at the castle this summer. I'd love to visit.

Write soon,

Hermione

She didn't seem that sympathetic and it wasn't always him who lost his temper. It would be nice if they could come up to the castle though, but Dumbledore wasn't going to be back for a while, so he wouldn't be able to ask for weeks. There's no way that Snape would agree to it, but Dumbledore might...

He briefly considered writing replies but decided it was too late in the evening and instead wandered into the kitchen to make himself a hot chocolate. He took his drink and flopped onto the sofa with his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages, ignoring Snape. The man had been busy working the last couple of days but hadn't seemed to mind when they shared a room as long he didn't bother him.

He'd tried harder to be more polite after the way Snape had looked after him. It seemed he was taking this guardianship thing quite seriously even though he hated him, and Harry knew that Snape hated him. The thing was so did the Dursleys. They hated him and treated him like dirt all the time, but Snape hated him and gave him food, took him to get new clothes, let him have his own room, looked after him when he hurt himself and always explained why he didn't want him to break the rules – after he'd screamed at him, sure, but it was more than the Dursleys did.

Things were going quite well here since their last argument. If things kept going like this and he didn't get Snape too mad maybe he really wouldn't have to go back, as long as Sirius didn't kick up a fuss. If only Dumbledore had explained why he'd been taken from the Dursleys. He'd only said that 'his home life left a lot to be desired' but Dumbledore'd always known the Dursleys didn't like him much, and it wasn't like anything different had happened. If he changed his mind on a whim he could just as easily change it back. 

"Mr. Potter, stop the sighing, now," Snape scolded wearily as he made a note on the parchment in front of him. Harry hadn't realised he'd been making any noise and fell silent. He was exhausted and snuggled further into the chair with his book and took a sip of his drink.

"Owww," he complained as he scalded his mouth.

Snape's head snapped up. "What did you do, Potter?"

"Buhnt my thongue," he answered, sticking it out trying to cool it down and blinking back the tears from his eyes.

"Blow on it," Snape ordered seriously before returning to his work.

"Yes, sir," he grinned. He really was taking the guardian thing seriously.

S.S.

By the time he had completed his work for the evening it was well past midnight and his eyelids were heavy. As he stood, casting a spell to gather up his parchment, his eyes fell on a sleeping figure curled up on the sofa. He hadn't realised that the boy had fallen asleep here and not gone to bed. He looked incredibly small asleep on the sofa, his book lying forgotten on the arm of the chair, snoring softly.

He could wake him up and make him go to bed, or he could leave him where he was. It couldn't be that comfortable on the sofa and he surely hadn't been sleeping that long. He may as well get him up.

"Potter," he called, but he just mumbled quietly in his sleep and curled up tighter, digging his glasses into his face.

Severus sighed. He carefully plucked the glasses off the child's face and put them on the table then summoned the boy's duvet and placed it on top of him. "Ridiculous child," he muttered, before going to bed himself.

H.P.

Harry awoke to bright sunshine and groaned, burying his head under his duvet and settling down to sleep once again.

"Get up, Potter." What was his uncle doing in his room? Wait, wasn't he at Hogwarts? Why was his uncle at Hogwarts?

"Wha'?" he mumbled, blinking blearily. Suddenly the covers were unceremoniously ripped off of him. "Hey," he yelled before he realised who the big black blob folding his duvet was. "Professor Snape?"

"Breakfast, now, Mr. Potter," the blurry professor ordered, stalking from the room.

Harry waved his hand around looking for his glasses on his bedside table. After about fifteen seconds he realised that there wasn't a bedside table next to him and he wasn't in his bed. It was another ten seconds before he realised that he was on the sofa and that he must have fallen asleep in the living room.

---

A few days later Harry tumbled into Remus' study only to find a widely grinning Sirius Black waiting for him.

"Sirius," Harry exclaimed as the man himself grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him over.

"How are you, Harry?"

"I'm good, but what are you doing here? I said I was fine."

"I came to make sure, kiddo." 

"Let him breathe, Padfoot. Come on through, Harry." Remus sent an exasperated look to Sirius and guided Harry out into the living room. When they were all seated, Harry turned his worried gaze onto his godfather.

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be here? The ministry's still looking for you, aren't they?"

"Don't worry about it. I've got it covered," Sirius answered with an unconcerned grin, which did nothing to placate Harry. It was clear that Remus agreed with Harry, but he looked happy to have his old friend around.

"How are you then?" Sirius asked, sobering quickly.

"I'm fine," Harry repeated. "Didn't you get my letter?"

"How is he treating you?" Sirius asked, ignoring Harry's question. Why did he keep asking him how he was? He's already said he was fine. Harry felt his temper rise. It was bad enough that people kept making decisions without him, but if people weren't even going to listen that was almost worse.

"What's this about? I've said I'm fine a million times already." He shot a look at Remus. "You said it was okay that I'm staying with Snape."

"It is all right," Remus replied calmly before turning to Sirius. "Harry's said he's fine, so stop now."

"Remus, I'm just making sure, he was a Death–"

"Don't," Remus cut him off with a warning look.

"What? What's going on?" Harry asked quickly.

"There's nothing going on. Your godfather is just concerned." Remus glared at Sirius, an edge creeping into his voice. This wasn't going well at all. He'd been so excited to see Sirius but he was doing just what he was afraid of. Why wouldn't he believe that he was okay? 

"I'd rather stay with Snape at Hogwarts then go back to the Dursleys. Can we just leave it?" Harry asked seriously. Sirius frowned, opening his mouth to speak before he was quickly cut off by Remus.

"Padfoot, can I have a word quickly?" Remus stood up and nodded towards the kitchen. "Sorry, Harry, bear with us for a couple of minutes."

Sirius stood reluctantly and followed Remus out of the room. Harry couldn't contain his curiosity and after a few seconds crept towards the kitchen door to see if he could hear anything. He grinned – Remus hadn't thought to cast a silencing charm.

"–to stop with the third degree, Padfoot."

"I don't trust him, Moony. I don't want him near Harry."

"Dumbledore trusts him, and I trust him. Things have changed these last twelve years."

Sirius snorted. "Snivellus hasn't changed. I saw him, Moony, the evil, slimy little…"

"Forget about Severus. I'm worried about Harry," Remus cut him off.

"So am I!" Sirius threw back at him, his voice rising.

"This isn't about Severus. Why do you think he's with him in the first place? Children aren't taken away from their guardians for no reason." There was a long silence.

"You think those muggles–" Sirius' voice lowered and Harry couldn't hear him through the door, although it was painfully obvious what he was saying. "Have you asked Dumbledore?"

"No, he's been away from the castle. He won't be back for a couple of weeks. I suspect that–"

Harry stepped away from the door. Remus was implying that he'd been... mistreated or something. Merlin, it was nothing like that! Sirius would never let this go now. He was bad enough when he heard about Snape, and they were so far off the mark. Sure, he didn't get on with the Dursleys, and he had a bit of a rough time of it there, but it wasn't like what they thought.

Suddenly, he didn't want to be there any more. He didn't want to see his godfather or Remus, not with them saying those things, thinking that he couldn't look after himself, jumping to conclusions... He couldn't bear the thought of them looking at him differently, talking to him in that awful tone of voice.

He dashed back to the study, throwing the floo powder into the fire and calling out 'Professor Snape's quarters!'

He fell out of the fire onto Snape's rug, only to find the man himself sitting in the chair opposite the fire. Snape usually spent his Saturdays in his potions lab or gathering ingredients and, judging by the expression on his face, the Potions Master hadn't been expecting to see him either. Harry's stomach dropped.

"Potter, what exactly is the meaning of this?" Snape asked coldly when it became clear that Remus wasn't going to appear.

"Uhhm I just, I forgot my Firebolt," he lied quickly. Snape's eyes darkened and he stood, looming over Harry.

"Lupin allowed you to return here unaccompanied?" 

"Uh…He's waiting for me…"

"Don't lie to me, Potter. Does he know you're here?" Snape snapped.

Harry was saved answering as a panicked Remus Lupin stepped out of the fireplace. Relief washed across his features. "Harry! Thank Merlin," he breathed. "Sorry about this Severus," he said, throwing a glance to the Potions Master. He hadn't intended to scare Remus; he'd just wanted to get away and he definitely didn't want to tell Remus that he'd been eavesdropping.

"I don't know."

"That's not good enough. You can't just disappear like that; I had no idea where you'd gone." Remus sighed. "Severus, would you give us a minute."

"No," Snape snapped. "He's not returning with you. You obviously can't keep him under control."

Remus frowned but replied calmly, "I'd like to speak to him. Give us a minute, please."

As he spoke, the fireplace flared green yet again and Sirius strode out. "Moony, is he here?" His gaze fell upon Harry. "You're here." He pulled him into his grasp but he let him go as his eyes landed on Snape. "Snivellus," he sneered. Snape whipped his wand out in response and Sirius did the same.

"Black," Snape hissed with loathing.

Harry's eyes widened in panic. Sirius was going to ruin everything.

"Padfoot, go back. I said not to come," Remus said, grabbing his arm and trying to get between the two men.

Sirius completely ignored his friend. "Since I'm here," he growled, shrugging Remus off.

"Sirius–" Harry started.

"I've got my eye on you, Snivellus–"

"Stop it. STOP IT," he yelled, abruptly cutting off his godfather's words. All eyes fell on Harry and everyone was silent. How had everything gotten so messed up? "Don't fight, just go." He shook his head, at a complete loss for what to do, still hearing the awful way Remus was speaking about him.

Ignoring Sirius' reproachful call, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. What had he done? Snape was going to be livid. He was already mad that he'd flooed here, then lied about it and now his godfather, the one person he may well hate more than Harry himself, had turned up and yelled at him. Remus was angry that he'd left and he'd just screamed at his godfather, who he'd rarely ever seen. It was a complete disaster!

S.S.

"Get out of my quarters," Snape hissed, wand raised and pointed at Black's chest. Oh, how he'd love to curse the mutt. He had him in his grasp; he could just let his whereabouts slip to the ministry.

"You can't stop me talking to my godson," Black barked.

"I think that you'll find that whilst he is in my care, I can."

"This isn't helping Harry. Just go Sirius." Severus and Black exchanged a glare of deepest loathing before Black disappeared through the floo.

Instead of following, Lupin remained where he stood. "Severus, I'm not going to wait for Albus to return to the castle, I want to know about Harry's relatives." He looked determined; he wasn't going to give this idea up in a hurry. If Severus agreed to speak to him he might be able to put off their discussion with the headmaster and he wouldn't need to hide that he was the one who set up this whole situation.

"If it will prevent these ridiculous displays, then fine." 

"Can I come back through this evening?"

Severus gave a terse nod, not looking forward to Lupin's presence in his quarters for a second time that day.

H.P.

He'd really gone and done it now.

Snape strode into his room and regarded Harry coolly. "Do you have anything to say?" 

"I didn't think it would be a big deal. I just wanted to come back."

"You did not think it would be a big deal?" Snape repeated slowly.

"I didn't go anywhere else. I just came here," Harry said defensively.

"You struggle with floo travel at the best of times. You could have fallen out of the wrong grate and no one would have known where you were."

Harry was reminded of his first time travelling by floo when he had ended up in Knockturn Alley and, though it happened years ago and was an extremely unlikely eventuality, he had to concede that Snape did have a point, a teeny tiny point.

"I– You're right, sorry."

Snape looked taken aback for a moment as if he'd just jumped in and foiled his argument.

"Be that as it may, you are grounded for the rest of the day for your transgression. You will not be returning to Lupin today."

Harry nodded, relieved. That was one less thing to deal with… "Yes, sir."

"You are aware, Mr. Potter, that I will not tolerate lies. You have lied to me more than once today so I suggest that you do not do so again. What was the cause of your misbehaviour today?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He had no intention of telling Snape why he left. It was none of his business. It was bad enough Remus thought those things; he didn't need to put the idea in Snape's head too.

"I'm not interested in what you want, Potter."

"You don't want me to lie," Harry answered stubbornly.

"You need to learn the importance of honesty. I'm confiscating your broomstick until you see fit to tell the truth."

"What? No! It's mine." He couldn't take his Firebolt. That wasn't fair.

"Accio Potter's broom."

Snape stalked out with his Fire bolt, slamming the door shut behind him. Harry swore loudly and kicked his desk chair. It did absolutely nothing to help and neither did the following three kicks.

S.S.

It wasn't long before Lupin returned to discuss Potter. He wasn't looking forward to this conversation at all but he had thought of another advantage of involving the wolf. The minute he found out about the boy's treatment he would be in complete agreement with Severus about keeping him from his relatives. Albus had conceded that he may have been wrong, but he would feel safer having his corner fought with others. He focused on the wolf as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"Thanks for seeing me so soon. Where's Harry?"

"His room," Severus answered shortly. He placed a silencing charm on the kitchen door, seating himself opposite the wolf. He knew very well that the boy could take easily to eavesdropping.

"What do you know?" Lupin asked seriously.

"I do not know the extent of what Potter suffered at the hands of his relatives. I have only a vague idea."

"Just tell me." Lupin said quickly, looking as if he was bracing himself for the worst.

Severus took a breath and a moment to organise his thoughts. "It is clear that his basic needs were not properly met. You brought it to our attention that he may not have been fed properly." He inclined his head. "He was never bought his own clothing nor did he have anything appropriate when he came to live in my quarters. You may have noticed that the school has rectified that," Severus lied smoothly. "He was not given a room to sleep in. It seems that he lived for ten years in a cupboard. The bedroom he lived in after he started Hogwarts had bars on the window, a catflap on the door and there were multiple locks on the outside. His possessions were locked away every summer. We have reason to believe his relatives were at least heavy handed with him, but we don't know to what extent he suffered physical abuse."

Snape heard his own words in his head, and hearing it all said like that just made it real. As he watched Lupin's horrified reaction he realised for the first time that this was Potter he was talking about. The boy who was in his room, just a few feet away, was the boy he was discussing and yet he never treated him as such. He had every intention of protecting Lily Evans' son when he took the child from his relatives but somewhere along the way he ended up living with James Potter's and he had lost sight of what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh, Merlin." Lupin put his head in his hands. "How did we not notice?" 

"He does not know why he was taken away or how much we know," Severus finished automatically.

"Why didn't Albus tell me or Sirius? Why weren't we told?" 

"I suggest you take that up with the headmaster. I cannot fathom his decisions," he answered vaguely.

Lupin left quickly. He mentioned something about telling or not telling Black and having another discussion soon but Severus was too deep in his own thoughts to take much notice.

After Lupin's departure he sat by the fire replaying his time with Potter so far. He had spent so much time noticing the boy's similarities to his father that he had not been taking into account the boy's past when dealing with him. Was there more he should be doing?

He didn't have anything to give a child, especially not a neglected and abused child, and even less so a child that he hated. Well, he couldn't exactly say that he hated the boy. He certainly hated that he reminded him of James Potter and the child did try his patience, but perhaps hatred was stretching it a little.

"Sir, I want my broom back." Potter interrupted his thoughts, standing boldly in front of him in the middle of the living room.

"You are aware of the conditions, Mr. Potter," Severus replied.

"I'm sorry that I lied."

"Noted. However, an apology is not enough to get you your broom back."

The boy balled his fists up and looked as if he was trying to decide whether his broom was worth it. He evidently decided it was as he blurted out, "I didn't want to stay there any more."

"That much is evident. You'll have to try a little harder," Severus struggled to keep his tone impassive. He didn't want to sound angry and stop the boy from telling him the truth.

"Why does it matter why I left?" the boy replied angrily.

"It matters because it caused the display of idiocy I witnessed this morning," Severus yelled back, failing to keep his own anger in check.

"Why should I tell you anything?"

"It is my unfortunate job to be your guardian and your welfare is my business."

"You don't want to be my guardian. You don't want to know why I left."

"No, Mr. Potter, I don't want to know, I need to know. I'm in charge of your wellbeing and protection and you're making my job exceedingly difficult."

He must have gotten through to the boy because he was silent once again, furiously glaring at him. "I heard– I thought– Sirius wouldn't listen to me. I'm fine here and he won't believe me." Severus could tell that that was not the complete truth but was interested enough to let it go.

"Why is his disbelief particularly upsetting for you?"

"I don't want to have to go back," he admitted, staring intently at a point on the wall three feet to the left of Severus' head. What the boy needed was reassurance.

"I assure you that you will not be returning to your relatives. Black's opinion is of no consequence."

"Professor Dumbledore might change his mind if Sirius complains about me living here."

"The headmaster will not change his mind, Potter. The decision was final."

"But–"

"No, go to bed. You can have your broom back in the morning. You will remain in my care for the entirety of these holidays, so I would suggest that you do as you're told."

 

H.P.

He hadn't wanted to tell Snape anything the night before but at least he hadn't told him the real reason he'd freaked out. Remus had completely the wrong end of the stick; the Dursleys didn't like him but it wasn't that big of a deal. He'd dealt with Voldemort twice since starting Hogwarts, and he'd killed a basilisk, for Merlin's sake. If he could handle all that then he could handle a few muggles.

He sighed and wandered in to the kitchen to see Snape waiting for him. Normally, he had his nose buried in the paper or a potions journal.

"Morning, sir," he said warily.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I trust you remember that we start your remedial potions today."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied glumly, dropping heavily into a chair and toying with his cereal.

"You need to be ready at nine o'clock and waiting in the living room. You can use ingredients from my stores for now, so just bring your cauldron and textbook," Snape ordered, then disappeared behind the Daily Prophet. Though why he bothered reading it at all was a mystery when every time he did he would snort derisively or mutter angrily about the state of the Ministry and the ridiculous writers employed by the paper.

When Harry finished, he made to leave the room, but before he reached the door Snape called out. "Your broom is in the living room. Put it away, please."

"You're giving it back?" Harry asked incredulously. He'd said he would but Harry had half expected him to find some other reason to confiscate it before the day was through.

"You're giving it back, sir," Snape repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"You're giving it back, sir?"

"I told you that I was confiscating it until you told me the truth and I believe that we covered that yesterday." Snape turned his attention back to his newspaper.

"Oh. Cool! I mean uh, thanks, Professor," Harry replied.

---

As nine o'clock rolled approached his good mood faded. He didn't even need to do extra potions work. He wasn't any worse than anyone else and no one else was doing extra work in the holidays. The reason he wasn't doing any better was that Snape always graded him unfairly and constantly breathed down his neck. Now that he was having one-on-one tuition with the man it was only going to get worse.

Then again, Snape was being better towards him. He wasn't constantly putting him down and he did just give back his Firebolt. 

"You have everything?" Snape asked.

"Uh, yeah, I think so."

"Follow me."

Snape led the way back to their usual classroom. Snape banished the majority of the workstations to the sides of the room so that only one remained, directly opposite the teacher's desk.

"You will be re-brewing the potions we covered this year until you can complete them to my satisfaction. I expect you to read the passage in the textbook before you attend class, you can do that before you start today, then gather your ingredients and begin. After each class I would like you to write about any mistakes you made and why they occurred as well as any improvements you could make to your work. You can hand that in to me in your next lesson. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied evenly, despite his irritation. He was practically doing the whole potions course again and for no reason. Not to mention that the man was giving him homework as well. it was bad enough that he had to do these lessons at all.

Snape continued, oblivious to Harry's rapidly deteriorating mood. "Today you will be brewing a shrinking solution. Start by reading the textbook."

Snape busied himself with his own work while Harry flipped through the pages of his textbook. He didn't even need to read it; he could remember that lesson well enough. He'd had to help Malfoy with his ingredients, despite the fact that Malfoy's injury had been faked, and Snape had tried to poison Neville's toad, Trevor. That lesson he hadn't even brewed the potion badly. It hadn't been perfect but it was okay.

He grabbed the ingredients and set up his cauldron. The quicker he got this over with the better. Then he could go flying for the afternoon.

"Stop mutilating those roots, Potter," Snape growled as Harry chopped the daisy roots roughly. He hadn't realised that he had been taking his anger out on the roots so obviously, but just glared at Snape as his teacher vanished them and replaced them with a new, uncut set of daisy roots. "Start them again and stop with the attitude, boy."

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped, the word 'boy' getting under his skin. His uncle called him that, like he was worthless, like he was nothing at all to them.

"Don't push your luck, Potter. You had better calm down and think before you speak," Snape hissed. The silent 'or else' quite obvious and Harry could see nothing but the teacher who revelled in humiliating him at every opportunity and who had hated him from the moment he laid eyes on him. 

S.S.

Severus watched covertly as the angry teen continued to treat his ingredients as if they themselves had personally insulted him. Did the blasted child not realise why they were even there? Unless he had some secret desire to continue with these lessons for the rest of the holiday, which he was certain he did not, the child was making, if possible, less effort than usual.

He had decided to make a conscious effort with Potter to take into account his treatment at the hands of his relatives. It had been hard for him to see that he was the same child who he had sought to save once Potter had come to live in his quarters. All he could see was his father and his habit of breaking the rules laid down to protect him.

He had not foreseen how much of a challenge this would be. He'd imagined now that he'd had this revelation of sorts it would be easy. After all, over the last couple of weeks the boy's behaviour had steadily improved, but yet again the boy was trying his temper.

Potter's anger at being referred to as 'boy' was curious. He'd spoken his surname with more venom in the past and insulted him with far more cruel and imaginative adjectives without eliciting that strong a reaction. He'd have to watch him closely.

H.P.

Harry continued the potion in absolute silence, his previous good mood having completely evaporated. When he was just finishing up, Snape sneered down at his cauldron.

"What do you call this, Potter?"

"Shrinking solution, sir," Harry replied through gritted teeth.

"If you believe that then you have both sabotaged your potion and failed to read your textbook. Is that the case?"

"No," Harry ground out.

"No, sir," Snape corrected.

Harry remained defiantly silent. Any thoughts about how his teacher's behaviour towards him had improved had disappeared from his mind as he stared down the Potions Master.

"I warned you, Potter. You're grounded for the rest of the day."

Harry made to leave the room but Snape stopped him. "These lessons will be continuing every day until you've completed the course. If you wish to have any free time this summer then I suggest you think very carefully about your attitude."

Harry gathered his cauldron and left without a word, slamming the door shut behind him.

He wasn't going to put up with this. Snape was just doing this to torment him. He had spent every potions lesson for the last three years putting him down and now he got to do it all summer.

S.S.

The potions lessons continued in the same vein as the days went by. The tense atmosphere was not merely confined to the potions classroom. What small steps forward they had taken were entirely erased. If he'd thought he'd seen defiant and obstinate before then he was sorely mistaken. It seemed as though the child thought he had some sort of point to make. He did everything in a stony silence, and when he was spoken to he stared defiantly back. Severus was fast losing his patience. 

"Potter, stir it clockwise, not anti-clockwise. Did you even bother to read the instructions?"

"Yes."

"Yes, sir," Severus corrected.

"Sure," Potter shrugged.

"Don't you dare, Potter. I'm growing tired of this attitude," he growled, looming over him. Potter pointedly ignored him and resumed stirring his cauldron.

"Potter!" Severus snapped, not accustomed to being ignored, nor willing to tolerate the boy's obvious disrespect.

"What?" he replied insolently.

Severus tried to contain the urge to throttle the infuriating child. Potter had changed since they started the remedial potions lessons but he had no idea what had caused such a regression in his attitude.

"Looks like you've lost your free time again. Get out of my sight."

Things came to a head the third potion lesson that week.

"What is this?" Severus asked, looking down at the cauldron in disgust. It wasn't a terrible attempt at the potion but if the boy would stop taking his adolescent tantrum out on the assignment he would have done a lot better, and Severus was in no mood to take any prisoners.

"A boil cure potion. You set it at the start of the lesson, sir," Potter responded, staring past his potions teacher, barely suppressing the frustration in his voice.

"It is much too thick to be a boil cure potion. It looks like this will be another fail for you." 

"What a surprise," Potter muttered to himself, clearing away his equipment.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'what a surprise'. As if it would be anything other than a fail!" 

"If you make an actual effort perhaps you could brew a passable potion."

"I do make an effort," Potter replied defensively.

"You'll have to work as hard as everyone else. Your fame makes you no exception with me. I will not give a passing grade when you fail to read instructions, chop your ingredients haphazardly and pay so little attention that you've allowed it to cool before stirring." 

"No exception?" Potter laughed, although it was clear he found no humour in it. "I am the exception with you. What about our first ever lesson?"

"If you had opened a book before turning up to my class the questions would not have been a problem," Severus replied angrily. He knew exactly what lesson the boy meant. How he'd longed for an opportunity to put him in his place, looking so much like his father but with her eyes.

"No one else knew the answers apart from Hermione and you didn't even want to listen to her."

"If you do not do the reading then you deserve to be called out for it. You cannot brew a potion without bothering to read about it's ingredients." It was a weak justification. It had been an easy way to put him in his place, and to let him know that he wasn't a celebrity in his classroom. 

Potter scoffed and spoke in a much quieter voice, filled with anger. "You hated me the moment you laid eyes on me, what did I do to deserve that?"

There was silence. Potter was vulnerable and Severus had made a commitment to take it into account, to see more than the child's father or his sheer obstinance and refusal to do a single thing he's told, no matter that Severus is giving up his summer to catch him up in potions.

"How much I like or dislike your character has nothing to do with your skill or lack thereof in this subject," Severus eventually answered.

"My work is no worse than anyone else's and you treat it as if it's the worst you've ever seen."

"Then work harder so that I have nothing to criticize."

"I could be perfect and you'd still find something wrong. Why try harder for you when nothing is good enough?" Potter replied, frustration colouring his voice as he began to lose his temper once again. "Anything I do is just an excuse for you to humiliate me."

"You don't get to question my methods, Potter. Enough!" There was silence as the pair stared each other down.

Potter broke the silence. "Why do you hate me?" He looked Severus in the eye boldly.

"Potter, this is not an appropriate time for this discussion." This was not even remotely going well but at least he knew now why the boy was struggling so much with his anger since these lessons began. He didn't want to engage in this conversation with the child. He would not lie to him.

"No, come on, I want to know," the boy challenged. "You hate me, the Dursleys hate me. I'm not allowed to ask questions but I know damn well why they hate me. I know it's not the same reason for you, so tell me, what did I do?" 

"Potter–" Severus started.

"Tell me."

"Potter-"

"TELL ME," the boy screamed.

"I believe I've told you many times before what I think of you," Severus answered coldly.

"Yeah, you have, thanks, sir," he replied sarcastically. "But you hated me from the moment you saw me at the feast, and in your first class. You didn't know me."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he answered honestly.

"God, at least they hate me for me. You– you were going to hate me anyway," the boy spluttered.

It was time to take control of this situation before it got any worse.

"Sit down, Potter."

"No, I don't have to–"

"Sit down."

The boy unwillingly complied. Severus did not speak right away and as Potter sat there in the quiet his face seemed to lose it's colour and he looked more than a little anxious.

"I will not accept this behaviour from you. I have been exceptionally lenient with you but it stops now." He took a moment to assemble his thoughts before continuing. "Before I met you I had preconceived notions about your character and since I taught you in my class I had not been dissuaded from those notions. However, since you came to live in my quarters I have been made aware that there are aspects of your character that I am not acquainted with. I do not know you, Mr. Potter; therefore, I do not hate you.

I am also quite aware that I have been dealing with your potions work in a strict manner this summer. I assumed that you would have anticipated it considering how I dealt with your homework earlier. I expect your best, Mr. Potter, and I know when you're giving it."

"Oh." Potter said staring at his hands, his expression carefully blank.

"Indeed. Now I suggest you clean this up – the muggle way. You'll be completing lines this evening seeing as losing your free time does not drill the message in. I want five hundred lines reading 'I will show my guardian respect at all times.'"

---

H.P.

He hadn't meant to bring up the Dursleys. He didn't want to feed whatever thoughts people were having about his treatment at the hands of his relatives. Snape hated him and Dumbledore still made him take Harry in, so it wasn't like it was a big deal or anything.

He couldn't believe the man was letting him get away with screaming at him. The moment he'd stopped he knew he was in for it. It was some strange stroke of luck that he'd gotten away with it. Well, almost get away with it.

His hand ached from writing lines and he took a break to count how many he had done. Three hundred and forty two – this was taking forever!

"Lunch, Potter. Have you finished your lines?"

"Not yet, sir," he replied with detached politeness.

"The headmaster has sent word that he will be returning to the castle early next week."

Harry didn't know what he was expected to say. Snape didn't say anything else nor pay him any attention for the rest of the meal so he guessed it was okay to say nothing.

---

Harry waited anxiously for Remus to arrive as Snape flipped through a potions journal. Remus had been pretty upset with him for running away and he'd pretty much missed his entire visit. On the other hand, he really wanted to see him and Sirius again, he hadn't really spent any time with his godfather yet and he couldn't wait to.

The fireplace flared green and Remus stepped out, smiling. "Harry do you want to go get your broom? Sirius thought it might be nice if you guys went for a fly today."

It was as if last week hadn't happened. He grabbed his broom and gave Snape a vague wave goodbye as he disappeared through the floo.

"Hey, Harry!" grinned Sirius, giving him a brief one-armed hug. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Harry replied, desperately hoping that Sirius wouldn't bring up Snape again.

"Good, let me know if, you know, you're not," he said awkwardly. Harry figured that Remus must have given him a hard time after how he'd gone on about Snape last week but was infinitely grateful that he didn't bring up the Dursleys.

Remus took a while to come back through. Snape was probably giving him a hard time or moaning about what a pain Harry was being. 

Sirius transformed into a great black dog and ran around the guardian barking and wagging his tail in excitement. Harry laughed as he chased his tail in a circle before transforming back.

"Come on, show me some moves on your Firebolt," Sirius challenged, launching himself into the sky on his own broom and tossing him a battered quaffle.

Remus stepped through the floo and followed them outside. He didn't join them in the air, instead transfiguring some sticks into rings and floating them to roof level.

"Don't go too high. I've got wards up so people can't see you, but you should feel if you're leaving them," Remus warned.

Harry spent a very enjoyable afternoon playing one-on-one Quidditch with Sirius. He ended up howling in laughter when Sirius desperately tried to block the quaffle from going through his own hoop and ended up throwing himself into a tree and he declared himself 'a little rusty.' Remus refereed but spent the majority of the time on the ground. Apparently the full moon had been a couple of days before and he was still worn out, but he looked in high spirits.

As the three of them sat eating in Remus' living room he looked up. "Sirius and I will be coming up to the castle later this week."

"Are you coming to see Dumbledore? Snape said he was coming back in a couple of days."

"Yes, we'll be going to see him. We've got a couple of things to sort out. We might stop by on you and Severus." Harry looked over at Sirius to see him scowling at his plate but saying nothing.

"Have you guys asked Snape?"

"Yes, I had a word with him after you came through."

"Oh. Good," Harry grinned.

Sirius spent the rest of the evening regaling Harry with stories of the marauder's youth, carefully leaving Wormtail out from all the stories. When Harry returned to Snape's quarters it was in much higher spirits than when he'd left.

 

S.S.

Severus resolved to speak to the headmaster as soon as he got back. As the days after their latest row passed it seemed as if the boy was retreating into himself. He was far less at ease than he had been before, if you could describe his previous behaviour as relaxed in any way. He often found himself on the receiving end of some very odd looks as if the boy was trying to work out a difficult puzzle. At the time he thought he'd done a fair job of allaying the boy's anger and at the same time evading the issue but it was clear now that the atmosphere had taken a turn for the worse by leaving the accusations unanswered and hanging over them both.

The boy's words kept replaying over and over again in his head. He knew exactly what Lily would have said had she heard the words of her son and he hated the thought of disappointing her. The boy was right, he had hated him, loathed him in fact and had made it extremely obvious to him. Back then he had not seen it as an issue, but now that he could not help but see that he was Lily's child and not exact copy of James Potter, it was a problem. There was too much hate, too much history for him to do the boy any good. It was becoming glaringly obvious that a child with his background needed support and care and he couldn't give that even if he wanted to. Not to mention that the child would not accept it, not from him, not now.

He departed for the headmaster's office after checking where Potter claimed to be that afternoon. He would have to persuade him to look for someone else to take care of the child. He had promised to do what's best for Lily's child and he wasn't it.

The headmaster showed no surprise on his arrival, merely inviting him in with a sweeping gesture. "I was not expecting a visit so soon," he commented lightly.

"I am not equipped to deal with this child," he burst out, not bothering with pleasantries.

"I'm sure you're doing an admirable job," he replied, seating himself behind his desk, seemingly unfazed.

"I'm not good for him. He needs someone else– the wolf, anyone."

"You know very well that Remus cannot take him," his employer said firmly, fixing a stern glare on the Potions Master. "What exactly is the problem?"

As if he didn't know. "I cannot give him what he needs. A child with his background needs support and care–"

"And you know that. You've identified his needs and I believe you more than capable of delivering."

"I'm telling you that I'm not. There's too much bad feeling, too much history."

"Have you seen that you were wrong about Harry?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I concede that I may not have been entirely correct about how he grew up, but it makes no difference." 

"It makes a world of difference. You know that your treatment of Harry for the last three years has been cruel and harsh but you justified it because you thought his character merited your actions. Concede that you were wrong in your assumptions and in your actions."

"I have told him that I do not hate him and do not necessarily know him. It is not enough, he needs more than that."

"You're right. He needs an explanation and honesty, and he needs to have a level of trust in you."

Severus looked at him as if he had suddenly grown an extra head. "I didn't mean from me. He needs more than I can give him. I will not explain myself to a child."

The headmaster looked disappointed. "Severus, you claimed that you wanted what's best for Lily's child."

"That is still the case–"

"Then you know what to do."

"I will not– it would do no good," he spluttered.

"Clear the air with the child, no raised voices, no anger. Swallow your pride, Severus. He has a great capacity for forgiveness."

"You're happy to give the boy second best? You won't even look for a better place for him?" 

"I believe I do know what's best for him," the headmaster said by way of a dismissal.

Severus fumed as he left the headmaster's office. He hadn't even tried to come up with a better situation for he child. He cared as little now as he had done at the beginning; Severus should never have been given the boy.

Explaining himself to the child would do no good, and there was too much bad blood for something like that to even work. As if something as simple as a conversation could do away with years of hatred.

Upon entering his quarters he slammed the portrait shut behind him and at the noise Potter's bedroom door quickly clicked shut.

H.P.

Harry sat on a bank of grass overlooking the lake, his Firebolt laid out beside him. His thoughts were too muddled for even flying to fix.

When Snape had sat him down to speak to him and had given him his explanation it had initially quelled his anger somewhat. He'd never had anyone talk to him like that after going off at them; it was nothing the Dursleys had ever done and they certainly would never have let him get away with challenging them, even if it was justified.

But after having a chance to think about it he felt a bit like he'd been Slytherined out of a real answer. So Snape had hated him because he thought he would be just like his dad and now for some reason he thinks that might not be true? If he doesn't hate him now because he doesn't know him, what if he decides he does know him and still doesn't like him? Harry hadn't suddenly changed this summer.

Was Snape just going to go back to humiliating him at every opportunity if Harry turned out to be just what he'd thought along? He didn't think he'd want to stay here if that was the case, not at all, but would going back to the Dursleys be better? He wouldn't be able to see Remus and Sirius if he wasn't at the castle... And what if when Snape decides he was right about what he thought of him, then decides he couldn't stay any more? He could probably do that–

"Harry, is everything okay?" Remus appeared beside him. He'd said he was coming to see Dumbledore but he didn't think he'd see him out in the grounds.

"Uh, yeah," he replied distractedly. "Hi."

Harry stared out over the lake and Remus didn't fill the silence right away. Instead, he sat down on the grass beside him.

"What's the matter?" Concern coloured his voice.

"Snape." 

"What's brought this on? I thought things were going well."

"They were, sort of. Things were getting a bit better, loads better than at school and stuff," Harry said, fiddling with a blade of grass.

"Then what?" Remus asked.

"We started remedial potions last week."

"I didn't know you were failing."

"I'm not failing! I'm not great at potions, but yeah, I don't need to do the lessons. I don't know why I have to do them."

"Sorry, carry on."

"It just reminded me of being back at school, you know, when he used to make fun of me in front of everyone and put me down all the time and I just lost it after a while. We had this big row. I wanted to know why hated me and treated me different to everyone and then he said 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'. That was his explanation, that was it."

"He shouldn't have said that to you."

"He said he didn't hate me any more because he doesn't know me."

"Right."

"Then I sort of got worried because I really yelled at him and it's not like he owes me anything. I mean, if anything, I owe him because he's letting me stay with him and everything."

"Harry, no. He can't treat you however he wants just because he puts a roof over your head," Remus said passionately. Harry frowned and shook his head.

"Yeah, but it's not like he wants me there."

"It doesn't give him any right to treat you poorly. If you're living with him, then he's agreed to take you, and if that's the case he has to look after you and treat you kindly. There's no two ways about it," he said firmly.

"He doesn't have to, though," Harry insisted. Sure it would be nice if he wasn't a huge burden to the people he lived with, but he was and he knew what to expect.

"No, Harry, he does. I know you two don't get on but I expect him to do his best with you besides that."

Harry chose to ignore Remus' line of argument. He just didn't get it. "Is it really just because of my dad?"

"To say that they didn't get on would be an understatement. I haven't discussed the issue with Severus, so I can't speak for him, but I would say yes for the most part."

"That's not fair."

"I know," Remus replied sadly. "I've got an appointment with the headmaster. Do you want me to get Sirius?"

"No, don't tell him. He'll get upset and I need to sort this out. Just don't say anything." He didn't need any more complications. A big fight between Snape and his godfather might just be enough to get him kicked out of the castle for the rest of the summer.

"I won't tell him anything you don't want me to, but he's always happy to see you and you could use cheering up."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, okay then."

---

S.S.

How had he gotten himself cornered in his own quarters by Lupin of all people? If he hadn't been so distracted by his conversation with the headmaster he probably wouldn't be in the presence of the infuriating wolf. 

He'd opened the door to the quarters and the wolf strode in as if he owned the place. It was so out of character Severus wondered for a moment whether he'd imagined it. "He's not here," he said, assuming the man was there to speak with Potter.

"I came to talk to you," he'd replied shortly and without the air of politeness that he usually carried.

Now Severus found himself in his kitchen, alone, with what appeared to be a less than happy werewolf.

"Harry told me about your row," the wolf announced, leaning back against the kitchen counter and blocking the exit.

"Which?" Severus sneered. He had a good idea to which he was referring but they had their fair share of arguments.

"What I take was your last," he replied calmly, pouring himself a glass of water and taking a sip before continuing.

"Harry's a lot like his father. It's amazing really considering they only had a year…" he trailed off as if he was lost in thought. "He's got most of his good qualities; he's loyal, brave, intelligent. He's more mature than James was at his age, more careworn, wouldn't you say?" The wolf seemed to speak casually but there was an edge to his voice.

"I wouldn't know." It was obvious that the wolf had some agenda but Severus did not feel inclined to play along, nor did he appreciate the reminder of the boy's father.

"You would know," he growled angrily. "He's not his father. I loved James, but I know what he did, what we did, was wrong. Harry would never treat anyone the way we treated you; he doesn't have it in him. James' worst qualities didn't make it to Harry. He's his own person and he deserves to be treated like it."

"I have admitted that I may have been wrong about the child," Severus hissed through gritted teeth.

"Harry told me as much. I just wanted to make sure you understood. I think Harry deserves more–" Severus cut him off before he could finish. He wholeheartedly agreed. If he thought of what Lily would have wanted all he could think was that she'd want her son as far from him as possible.

"As do I, which is why I wanted to find another home for him this summer. The headmaster disagrees; he wants him to remain with me."

Lupin sighed, leaning back against the counter once more. "I spoke to Albus earlier too. It was you who made the decision to take him away from his relatives." 

Severus froze. The blasted man had told him. "He had no place telling you," he ground out. At his words Lupin's expression softened.

"He didn't tell me. All he said was that he couldn't elaborate on the details, so it obviously wasn't him," the wolf replied, looking a little apologetic. "It was just a hunch…Harry had already told me that you were the one who went to collect him and you knew so much about his life with the Dursleys."

"I trust you'll keep this knowledge to yourself?" Severus said coldly.

"Why?"

"The child should believe the headmaster cared enough to take him out of that home. He shouldn't have to know how hard I had to fight to persuade Albus that this was for the best."

"He wanted to leave him there?"

"The bloods wards were very important to him. He would rather he was protected from the Dark Lord, should he return, than his relatives."

Lupin frowned, putting his glass down. "Put aside your grudge, Severus. James is dead and now you have a petty vendetta against a thirteen-year-old boy who never even knew the man, who was neglected by his own relatives and needs to feel safe."

Yet another person who somehow thought he could give the boy something more. "I told you that I am not the person for this."

"You're all he's got. If I could take him I would, in a heartbeat, but I can't. I won't have him living in another unhappy situation this summer. Just clear the air, talk to him– do whatever it was that Albus said to do."

"Lupin, I am not equipped to deal with the child."

Lupin looked a little apprehensive as he spoke again. "Severus, we went to school together. You and I both know that your own home life-"

"Don't," Severus cut him off with a shout. He had no right, no place bringing anything to do with his childhood up. "Get out," he barked.

It was clear that Lupin knew he'd overstepped the mark and made to leave. "Harry was quite insistent that I tell you he's in the castle with Sirius, and Albus knows he's here before you say anything." With that he left.

H.P.

Sirius had been thrilled to see Harry midweek but he couldn't stay in human form in the castle in case he was recognised by one of the teachers who occasionally stopped in. It wasn't that bad though. Sirius ran ahead up the shifting staircase, barking loudly.

"Shhh," Harry said, laughing and pulling out the marauders map. "Ah no, she's gone into Filch's office." This pronouncement had Sirius bounding down the corridor in excitement. "Hold on," Harry yelled, chasing after him and almost knocking over Remus.

"What's going on here?" Remus smiled, looking between Harry and the excitable dog.

"We're after Mrs. Norris," Harry answered, grinning as Sirius ran back up the corridor and barked at Remus.

"That cat's a menace," Remus laughed. "Not that I approve of you two terrorizing her."

"We haven't caught up with her yet," Harry said, looking again at the map. "She's still in the office."

"Sirius and I have got to go, but we'll walk you back to Severus' quarters."

Harry's face fell and Sirius butted his hand with his head. He'd taken the task of cheering Harry up very seriously all day, not that it had been to difficult for him, his excitement at seeing Harry again and having the run of the castle was contagious and Harry fast forgot his anxiety while they were messing around.

"Right, we'll see you in a few days. Send us a note if you need anything," Remus said, smiling reassuringly. Harry thought he looked a bit like he didn't want to let him go back in to Snape, so he just smiled, but it felt more like a grimace.

"I'll be fine."

Sirius jumped up on him as a goodbye and Harry patted his head. "See you later."

It was supposed to be dinner time but when Harry went to the kitchen he found that it wasn't ready. Snape was the kind of person who really stuck to their routine; it was always a bad sign when he wasn't following the schedule.

Snape had his arms crossed as he glared at the opposite wall. Had Remus stopping by to tell him where Harry was made him angry? He didn't have a right to be – Sirius was his godfather and if he wanted to see him he could.

He decided to just brave the man's wrath and say something. "Sir?"

It took a moment for him to react. He looked at him for several long seconds before he spoke. "Dinner will be late today. I'll call you when it's ready." 

S.S.

Severus had been deep in thought when the boy had arrived. How is it that he always got stuck in these situations? First, he attempted to protect the boy from his vile relatives and then he got landed with him for the whole summer, and now when he knew that the boy needed more appropriate care from someone better suited to the role, he was told that he had to step up and talk to him. The very idea was ridiculous. He couldn't let this issue continue, that was for certain. If the headmaster was not in fact going to try and find another place for him, then perhaps a civil talk wasn't completely beyond him.

He used his wand to direct a knife to cut up the vegetables and with another flick he heated oil in a pan. Was the boy truly that unhappy here now? Could the argument have affected him that much? If the wolf had not sought him out he would have waited for the issue to pass. After the way the headmaster reacted to the news of his relatives he did not entirely trust his advice. Potter's behaviour had improved somewhat and that was really all he wanted. He gave him food and a room, clothed him, ensured he kept up his studies... He didn't ask to take the boy and he'd already done more for him than his previous guardians had.

Potter had been so comfortable here that he had ran away from his beloved godfather because he feared that if he complained in any way he would be sent back to his relatives. Now, apparently he had gotten to the stage that he would risk worrying his godfather, or the wolf at least, and Severus knew that in the boy's mind that meant risking being taken away. Maybe he did have some sort of responsibility; he did have to protect the emotional wellbeing of the boy. He could give the talk a try at least.

With that thought in mind he went to fetch the boy for dinner.

The boy sat and ate in silence, although Severus did note that he kept shooting him worried looks. He spoke only when he was certain the boy had finished eating. The last thing he needed was for him to waste away under his care.

"Is there something on your mind, Mr. Potter?"

"No, sir," he replied quickly, obviously eager to escape from the table.

It was clear he'd need some coaxing to speak his mind. "Fine, Potter. There is something on mine which concerns you. I had believed our dispute last week to be resolved, but clearly that is not the case."

"What? But I have been better."

"Yes, you have," he said with a nod. "But I may not have been as clear with you as you deserved. I think we should have the discussion again, calmly." 

"Are you serious?" The boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Quite."

There was a silence, and no doubt the boy was trying to work out if he really could speak plainly. He took a deep breath and steeled his gaze before beginning. "You can't just decide you hate someone and then put them down all the time and make their life miserable. I was only eleven."

"I believed very firmly that you needed to be taken down a peg or two. It was not just that I believed you were just like your father. I assumed you had been brought up as a spoiled, pampered celebrity."

"I didn't even know I was famous until I met Hagrid. I didn't even know I was a wizard! I thought my parents had died in a car crash."

Severus gritted his teeth, not in anger at the boy, but at the outrageousness of the lie. 

"I looked at you, saw your father and took my anger out on you, but my assumption about how you were raised was wrong, as was my assumption about your character."

"What if it's not?" He challenged. "You said you don't hate me because you don't know me. What happens when you get to know me and you figure out I am just like him?"

"You are not your father. I do not wish to discuss him with you," Severus said firmly, trying to keep his tone even.

The child crossed his arms. "Fine. What happens when you get to know me and you don't like who I am?" That was the crux of his fear. There was anger about his cruelty and the unfairness of it, but this was what was keeping him awake.

"I will provide for you as your guardian, no matter my opinion of your character. I do not think it will be an issue, when you are not trying my temper your presence is not wholly unwelcome."

"Oh."

Each time he said something even vaguely complimentary the boy seemed lose track of his argument.

He rapidly picked up a new thread. "Why do I have to do remedial potions? I'm not failing and I'd do better if you weren't breathing down my neck or letting Malfoy throw things in my potions."

"Ensuring you do your homework and that you're reaching your potential is your guardian's job. I'm aware that your potions grades could be higher because you produced a thorough and intelligent essay with no help from Granger."

The boy took in his explanation, though the expression on his face showed exactly what he thought of the idea of living up to his potential in potions. "No one else has to study in the summer."

"The multitude of private tutors charging exorbitant fees will be disappointed to hear that," he deadpanned before answering more seriously. "You will not spend the summer in my care and then hand in mediocre essays. Nor will I allow you to fritter away the entire length of each day when I could spend a couple of hours rectifying your poor performance in my class. I do not believe it is unreasonable to expect you to be productive for two hours each day."

"The Dursleys never made Dudley study," Potter argued, but he seemed more perplexed than angry.

"Your relatives are not the standard I wish to be judged by."

 

S.S. 

Severus' quill scratched furiously across the parchment as he made notes. What with one thing or another this summer he'd had precious little time to work on his own project. He pursed his lips together in irritation as the portrait swung shut loudly and Potter flopped down onto the opposite couch.

He turned his attention back to his work, frowning in concentration. But when he looked up to open a potions reference book, caught the teen's eye. Potter was watching him curiously and evidently took his momentary distraction as an opportunity to interrupt his peace.

"Sir, what is all that?" he asked, waving an arm to encompass all of Severus' notes and texts.

Severus' eyebrows rose in surprise. He had expected him to ask about dinner or some other selfish, trivial issue. "This is something of a project of mine to adjust one of the more common pain relieving potions," he answered, returning his gaze to the book.

"Adjust it how?" Potter asked. If Severus had less self control he would have blinked in confusion. Why was the child be interested in his work, of all things? Once he found out it was potions related he should have been suitably put off inquiring further.

"You wish to know what it is I'm working on?" Severus asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

Potter nodded, leaning back on the arm of the couch. "Adjust it how?" 

Severus noticed the casual tone but decided not to comment. The boy had only just begun to speak comfortably in his presence. It seemed overly petty to request the boy use his title at every opportunity if he wanted him to be content in his quarters, and he did. He had accepted that it was his own fault that the boy was staying with him and he must fulfil his duty to ensure that the boy was healthy and comfortable. It was easier to think more favourable thoughts towards the boy when he did not only see his father in him.

"There are certain limitations to the common pain relieving potion that is currently available. I'm trying to make it more useful."

"What kind of limitations?"

He would have to be careful how he replied. While he was appreciative of the interest that the boy showed, he did not wish to fully disclose his project.

"The potion we use now can only be used after the pain has begun; it is by no means a preventative for pain. There is also a limit to the circumstances where the potion can be used and there are certain spells and injuries that it cannot help."

"What will your potion do?"

"If I succeed then it will work as a short term preventative of pain from certain spells and injuries." 

"How long do you think it will take?" Potter asked curiously.

"It depends. A long while yet, Mr Potter."

The child listened more carefully to his explanation of his own project than he did in class. It was almost a shame that he could not discuss it further but he wasn't going to disclose that the limitation he was attempting to lift was its ability to prevent the pain of the cruciatus curse. It wasn't a suitable topic of conversation for a thirteen-year-old, especially when his parents were killed by an unforgivable curse. 

He had been working on this particular project for many years but had paid it much less attention until the Dark Lord had become active once again. Although he remained without a corporeal body, it was only a matter of time until he returned to his physical form, and with Pettigrew's escape the Dark Lord would have a willing servant once again. Feeling the threat increase, he had renewed his work with fervour.

If the boy could talk quite pleasantly about potions, he supposed he ought to find out what was going on in the child's life.

H.P.

Harry could feel a headache coming on but dismissed it. He'd had an exhausting day practising his quidditch moves, and he probably just needed sleep.

He couldn't help grinning. It was only a couple more weeks until his birthday and he was really looking forward to his promised day out with Remus. They'd decided that it was far too risky for Sirius to join them but it was still going to be really good. Remus was taking him ice skating and then they were going to do the whole London tourist thing. Remus had thought it odd that despite living in Surrey he'd never really seen the city. 

"Potter, I'm speaking to you, do me the courtesy of listening," Snape said with more than a touch of annoyance.

"What?" Harry said automatically, looking up in confusion. Snape looked impatient as if he was waiting for some sort of response. "Sir," he amended quickly, not wanting to get him in a mood with him.

"Something on your mind, Potter?" Snape asked, eyebrow raised.

"No," Harry answered quickly and Snape frowned. "Really. I was just thinking about next week."

"What about next week?" Snape asked, as if him being happy about something was something bad.

"Remus is taking me ice skating and to London for my birthday." 

"Indeed," he replied thoughtfully, before tossing down his quill. "Preference for dinner?"

"Not that hungry."

"You'll eat three meals a day in my home, Potter. I suggest you stop filling up on Hagrid's attempts at baking."

Snape wasn't a bad cook. It was probably something to do with being good at potions but Harry picked at his food half-heartedly. His headache had only worsened as the evening wore on, not to mention how tired he was, and since when did it get so hot? The pounding in his head increased and Harry excused himself from the table wanting desperately to just curl up in bed and sleep.

 

---

 

It was absolutely boiling! He tiredly threw his duvet on the floor and groaned into his pillow. It was too hot and his head was killing him and he'd gone to bed because he was exhausted, only to spend the whole night not sleeping. 

He struggled to eat his cereal while Snape read his paper. If he had learned anything from the Dursleys, it was that they didn't want to be bothered by something as stupid as a bit of a headache and Harry had no desire to irritate Snape now that they were getting on a little better. Besides, he'd just think he was trying to get attention or something if he complained.

His scar twinged and he rubbed his hand wearily over his forehead. Was it just because he had a headache, or was it something more? Voldemort couldn't be around now; there was barely anyone in the castle and Dumbledore was around. He couldn't think clearly, his head hurt that much. It probably meant nothing.

Somehow Harry found himself trailing after Snape for yet another potions lesson. Since their last argument they'd both made more of an effort. Harry tried not to look so annoyed about having to do it, and he could tell that Snape had slightly more patience with him. He still snapped at him when he was doing something wrong but he didn't insult him and he always told him what he should do instead. It made it a million times easier to do your work when your teacher wasn't hoping that you'd fail.

"Stop. Stir it twice clockwise then once counter clockwise," Snape barked at him from across the room.

"What was I doing?" Harry asked. He was surprised he was still standing, let alone able to stir in two different directions.

"Once clockwise then twice counter clockwise."

"Right," Harry answered, rubbing his eyes tiredly and groaning quietly. His scar twinged again and he winced as the pain intensified. Not just a one off, then.

"You are not paying enough attention, Mr. Potter," Snape chastised.

"I'm trying." Harry added the beetle eyes and continued stirring. The pain in his scar flared again and his hand jumped to his forehead.

"Enough. Evanesco." He hadn't even noticed that Snape had come to stand in front of him.

"What?" When he opened his eyes, his cauldron was empty. He hadn't been doing that badly, had he?

"You added beetle eyes before the knotgrass; it was beyond repair. Sit down."

Harry sat, trying to ignore the pounding of his head.

"What exactly is the problem?"

"Nothing. I'm fine, Professor," Harry lied.

"Are you in pain?" Snape pressed.

"A bit, I guess." His scar twinged yet again and he lowered his head onto the desk. The sensation of cool wood against his scar was a relief.

"Utterly ridiculous behaviour. Head up, now," Snape ordered impatiently.

Harry reluctantly complied, but the sight of his professor raising a hand to his forehead made him jerk back automatically. "What are you doing?"

"I'm attempting to ascertain whether you have a temperature."

"'M okay. I don't need–"

"I suggest you stay quiet if telling the truth is beyond you. You feel quite warm." Snape looked at him for a moment before seeming to come to a decision.

"Are you well enough to stand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said dragging himself off his stool. He made it all the way into Snape's quarters following his teacher, who mercifully kept an unusually slow pace. He sank gratefully onto the floor in front of the door, the burning of his scar increasing as his headache worsened, and the room swam before his eyes.

S.S.

The boy was ill. It was obvious in hindsight that there was something wrong with him – he'd barely eaten the night before. Potter followed him through the portrait hole but instead of going the last few feet to the couch, he sank onto the floor and dropped his head into his arms with a groan.

"Potter–" Severus began but thought better of it. If he could have stood there was no doubt he would have done so. He was at a loss. As a teacher he could send sick children to the infirmary; their care was never solely in his hands. Now he was completely out of his depth.

He couldn't leave him on the floor, so he picked him up and carried him the short distance to the couch. He was remarkably light for a boy about to turn fourteen.

"Sorry," Potter mumbled.

"What exactly are you feeling?" he asked, kneeling so that he was on level with the boy.

"Tired. My head hurts and my scar hurts," Potter answered through gritted teeth, furiously rubbing his scar which looked painfully red. He pulled Potter's arm away before he could hurt himself further.

"The pain in your head, is it a sharp pain or an ache?" Severus asked slowly in what he hoped came across as a patient voice. The boy's scar hurting him was not a good sign; in fact, it was very worrying news indeed.

"Both. Scar hurts and my head aches." The boy was clearly being affected outside of just having a high temperature and a headache. He wasn't sure that his pain relieving potion could cure pain caused by curse scars. Tears began to leak out of the corners of the child's eyes and he was sucking in his breaths sharply. He wordlessly summoned a vial of pain reliever and a fever reducer and uncorked both.

"Drink this," he ordered and Potter grabbed the vial from his hand without a second thought and downed it. "One more." He held out the second.

Potter's breathing evened and he calmed almost instantly. "Thanks, sir."

Severus nodded tersely in response. "How do you feel now?"

"Better." Severus did not need to be a legilimens to know that he was telling the truth, but he rolled his eyes nevertheless at the boy's ability to state the obvious.

"Is there any pain in your scar?" he amended.

"Um, not really," Potter answered.

Severus turned to face the fire and sighed. He'd have to floo the headmaster; he really was beginning to detest speaking to the man about Potter.

The boy started to get up, mumbling tiredly. "Sorry, I–"

Why was he getting up? Did he have no common sense? "What do you think you're doing?" Severus hissed, though with far less venom than usual, causing Potter to blink at him in confusion. "Lie down, for Merlin's sake," he said, exasperated.

He summoned Potter's duvet and pillow. "Go to sleep." He handed him the pillow and laid the duvet over him. The boy looked bemused but his eyes shut as soon as his head hit the pillow. Potter's glasses were pressed into his face so Severus pulled them off, setting them on the side table.

He threw some floo powder in the fire and called the headmaster through.

"Severus, is this urgent?" he asked before spotting the sleeping teen on the sofa. His expression softened in understanding.

He didn't want to risk waking Potter up since he had just gone to sleep and so Severus led the way through to the kitchen, shutting the door quietly behind them.

"Is Harry unwell?" the headmaster asked, seeming genuinely worried about the child. Severus managed not to snort aloud. Of all the trouble that plagued the boy, the headmaster was concerned about him napping in the afternoon.

Severus recounted Harry's behaviour and symptoms to the headmaster. "I gave him a potion to lower his temperature and a pain reliever to rid him of his headache. What worries me is that he was complaining about his scar. The pain had not completely subsided before he fell asleep but the pain reliever did seem to cause some improvement."

Dumbledore appeared to think for a few moments before responding to Severus. "You need not fear that he is too unwell. I do not think that the pain in his scar is a symptom of any illness."

"You think the two are unrelated?" That would be quite the coincidence.

The headmaster shook his head. "No. Harry's scar is quite unusual. It seems that it is something of a link between Voldemort and Harry. In his first year, when Voldemort was using Quirrell's body, his proximity to Harry caused him pain." Severus nodded to indicate that he was following. "As we've already discussed, with the aid of Pettigrew, Voldemort's strength will be slowly increasing and that may well cause the link between Harry and Voldemort to strengthen. When Harry's defences are down, such as when he is ill, he will likely become more susceptible to pain in his scar."

"We can rule out Voldemort being close by?" After the Quirrell incident three years before he wasn't going to rule out proximity just based on assumption alone.

"Yes, my boy," he assured him, as if he knew what he was thinking. The headmaster headed serenely towards the kitchen door. "I'm sorry to excuse myself so soon, Severus, but I have a meeting with Minister Fudge. We have some conditions to discuss for the tournament this coming year. Do let me know if there are any more episodes with Harry's scar; it is definitely something we need to monitor carefully."

H.P.

Harry awoke to find himself lying down on the sofa with a very blurry Snape working on the chair opposite. He felt loads better than he had earlier; his headache had gone completely and his scar had gone back to normal. He had a more pressing problem – he had no idea where his glasses had got to. He felt really vulnerable without his glasses and stood up to try to find them, but as soon as he was on two feet Snape spoke.

"Stay sitting down or go to bed, those are your options," Snape said without taking his eyes off his parchment.

He must be joking. "I'm looking for my glasses and I was just asleep, I don't want to go to bed."

"You need rest, Mr. Potter," Snape snapped back at him, summoning his glasses and thrusting them towards him.

"I don't need to rest any more, I'm better," Harry said, waving his arms for effect.

"One, do not argue with me. Two, I gave you a potion to temporarily reduce your symptoms. It was by no means a cure so I suggest you get some rest before you aggravate your condition."

Snape probably did have a point, but Harry was used to looking after himself. The Dursleys had never been very hands on when he was ill. In fact, compared to the Dursleys, Snape had been positively caring. The man had gone above and beyond. He didn't have to do anything at all and yet he'd given him potions, let him sleep on the chair, and practically put him to bed.

He turned crimson with embarrassment when he remembered that Snape had actually picked him up at one point. He was probably annoyed that he hadn't thanked him already. If the Dursleys had ever done anything like that for him...they wouldn't, but if they had, they'd be really annoyed that he hadn't been appreciative. 

"Professor?" Snape looked up from his work and so Harry just went ahead. "Thanks, uh, for earlier."

"There is no need to thank me. I'm you guardian, your health is my responsibility."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, but you didn't have to do anything for me. It wouldn't have killed me."

"You are entirely incorrect–"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "It would have killed me?"

"Of course not."

"Oh. Well, I meant that you could have just let me deal with it."

"For the love of–" Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a breath before speaking and his voice was strained as if he was holding back extreme frustration. "Potter, while I appreciate your thanks, I am obligated to care for you when you are unwell. It is the least you should expect from your guardian."

Harry frowned in confusion but Snape looked like he was in one of those moods where he didn't want to be argued with, so he dropped it.

"Sir, do you think it matters that my scar hurt? Should I tell Dumbledore?"

"Professor Dumbledore, and no. I spoke to him while you were asleep. It is not a cause for concern."

"What did he say it was?"

"There is no need to concern yourself about it," Snape said, and this time there was an edge to his voice.

"Voldemort's not nearby is he? I mean, it happened last time because he was on the back of Quirrell's head," Harry persisted.

"Don't say his name, and no, he is not nearby."

"Dumbledore told you, so why won't you tell me? It's my scar!" Harry knew he was being petulant but it wasn't fair. He'd been nearly killed by Voldemort three times and Dumbledore always, well, sometimes, answered his questions.

Snape sent him a long harsh glare.

"The headmaster informed me that it is nothing to worry about. He also informed me that you are aware of your connection to the Dark Lord." He paused for confirmation and Harry nodded eagerly, surprised that Snape was willing to actually tell him anything. "It would seem that due to your illness you became more sensitive to the connection."

"I've been sick before and my scar's been fine."

Snape paused and it looked as though he was unsure how much he should be saying, so Harry ploughed bravely ahead.

"Is it because he's getting stronger?"

"What would you know of the Dark Lord's strength?"

"I know he's going to come back," Harry said boldly.

It seems that his words dispelled any hesitation that Snape had. "It would seem that with his increase in strength and your defences down it made you more receptive to the connection that you share."

He didn't like the sound of that; he didn't want to become more receptive to anything to do with Voldemort. It sounds like his scar is going to become some sort of satellite that only picks up on Voldemort signal. "Is it going to happen more?" 

"I cannot say. I'm simply relaying the headmaster's hypothesis. I would assume that as long as you are in good health then you should not experience any discomfort. I will expect that you will put any thoughts about the Dark Lord out of your mind; I do not want you to concern yourself with it."

"I can't just put it out of my mind." Is he mental? How can he just expect him to ignore the fact that Voldemort could return and soon?

"There are much older and much wiser wizards who will take care of it. There is not much for a thirteen-year-old wizard to do," Snape sneered.

"No one was saying that after I fought Quirrell, or killed the basilisk or destroyed Riddle," Harry replied.

"You should never have done any of those things."

"If I hadn't Volde– He–" Harry fought not to roll his eyes at having to avoid the name. "Would have gotten the stone and Ginny would be dead!"

"You continually put yourself and your friends in danger. Any one of your teachers could have handled the situation far better and yet you throw yourself into danger with no thought of the consequences," Snape hissed angrily at him.

"I did think about the consequences," Harry replied defensively, "Vol–He could have gotten the stone and come back and Ginny could have died," he repeated.

"You could have died because of your own foolishness. The only reason you're alive today is because of sheer dumb luck."

"I had to help," Harry insisted stubbornly. "And we did go to a teacher. Lockhart tried to obliviate us."

"Then find another, competent teacher. It is not up to you to fight the Dark Lord or basilisks. It is up to you to go to school and do your homework. You make the task of protecting you very difficult."

"I don't need protecting," Harry threw at him.

A dark look crossed the Potion Master's face. "That is where we disagree."

S.S.

"Lupin, a word," Severus said, gesturing to the kitchen as soon as Lupin stepped out of the fireplace. Potter gave him a puzzled look, but he ignored him.

"Just a minute, Harry," Lupin said to Potter as he followed him to the kitchen.

"Is there a problem?" The wolf asked politely, but with a hardness to his voice that said he hadn't forgotten their last conversation.

"No. I just wanted to inform you that you need to keep an eye on Potter. He was ill this week and nothing short of collapsing where he stood would get him to admit to being in pain."

"Is he still unwell?"

"Obviously not. The boy is waiting in the living room holding a broomstick."

"Was it anything serious?"

"No, but he's been experiencing pain in his scar. If it happens again while he's with you, let me know."

"Careful, Severus, you're beginning to sound like you care about him," the wolf said with what Severus suspected was a teasing tone.

"I don't appreciate your humour, Lupin."

"What does the pain in his scar mean?"

"It was caused by his illness and the Dark Lord's increase in strength, but I'm concerned that as the Dark Lord grows stronger it could happen while he's perfectly healthy, and so I need you to keep an eye on him."

Lupin nodded in understanding. "Have you spoken to Harry about his relatives?"

Severus frowned. Why on earth would he be the one to speak to the boy? True, they could now hold a somewhat civil conversation and he did... Well, he did not want the boy to be unhappy and he wanted to protect him from harm, but out of all the adults in the child's life he would probably still be the worst candidate to bring up the his relatives.

"It's hardly my place. It would be far better coming from you or Black." Severus scowled at the thought of the boy's godfather, spitting his name.

"I would feel much better approaching Harry about it if we could be honest about what we know of his situation."

"I'm sure you could find some way around it," Severus replied unconcerned. "If the boy wishes to discuss his relatives with you then I'm sure he will do so."

"You don't think it's important that Harry talks about it?" 

"Yes, I think it is important that he talks about it, but there is no reason for him to be aware that you already know how they treated him," Severus repeated impatiently. He could not understand why this was such an issue for the wolf, nor why he insisted on discussing it with him.

"You're going to have to tell him at some point," Lupin said, walking back towards the living room.

"I don't have to do anything. Do not presume to tell me what to do in my own quarters," Severus hissed.

"I'll keep an eye on Harry," Lupin promised, ignoring Severus' anger which was only more irritating.

H.P.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. As soon as he flooed through Sirius had pulled him to his feet and handed him a butterbeer.

"We're having a bit of a celebration," Remus answered, stepping out behind him and accepting a glass of firewhiskey.

"Moony finally got himself a job," Sirius announced happily, giving him a congratulatory pat on the back, managing to make Remus spill most of his drink. The man didn't seem too bothered, rolling his eyes and spelling the floor clean.

"Well done, Remus. That's great," Harry said sincerely. He'd been looking for work since Snape made him resign.

"It's nothing special but it's something," Remus replied, acknowledging Harry's words with a nod of his head.

"It's also a bit of a goodbye from me–" Sirius started and Harry's smile faltered. He'd barely had any time with him and now he was leaving. Sirius raised his hands. "Just for a couple of weeks. Remus is going to be busy at work and he's taking you out for your birthday next week, so it's a good time for me to sort some things."

"Like what?" Harry asked glumly.

"Nothing special, kiddo. Dumbledore doesn't want me around here too much, so I have to sort somewhere else to stay." Sirius shrugged, trying to look as if it was no big deal, but he was obviously unhappy at being asked to leave.

"Why can't he stay here?" Harry asked, looking over at Remus.

"I'd love to have him, Harry, but we can't risk him getting caught. People know we used to be best friends and they distrust me because I'm a werewolf. We can't afford to arouse suspicion, especially with Wormtail out there."

Sirius' expression darkened considerably at the mention of the only other living marauder and he knocked his drink back and forced a smile. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I'm thinking of going somewhere near Hogwarts. That way I can keep an eye on you."

"You don't need to keep an eye on me," Harry replied indignantly.

"Remus told me what you kids have been getting up to. Fighting basilisks, Harry?" Sirius countered with a sly grin, regaining some of his previous good mood. 

Remus smiled slightly. "I couldn't keep him in the dark about that one."

"I don't do it on purpose," Harry retorted, returning his grin.

"I envy you, Harry. Having adventures, facing danger, really living," Sirius said wistfully. His reaction was the complete opposite to Snape's. It was a bit weird that the closest thing he had to a parent didn't mind him throwing himself into danger, but Snape, who used to hate him, got so mad about it. He wasn't sure what was better, Snape being oddly protective or Sirius thinking his near death experiences were exciting. Then again, Snape saved his life in his first year, maybe he just wanted to make sure he didn't do it for no reason.

"Don't, Padfoot," Remus scolded weakly. "Ignore him, Harry, he's a bad influence."

"So, Remus, where are you working?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"I got a muggle job working in a bookshop."

"How come you got a muggle job?" 

"Werewolf prejudice makes it difficult to get a job in the wizarding world and it's something you have to declare by law when you apply. Getting a job in the muggle world is easier, but the exchange rate is atrocious and I can hardly list teaching at Hogwarts as my last job."

"I can see Moony working in a bookshop. He always had his nose in a book at school," Sirius teased.

"You were like Hermione?" He could see Remus being a bit like Hermione, but then she'd never have made the marauders map.

"Not quite." 

"Come on, Harry, let's have a game," Sirius said, gesturing to Harry's broom.

Harry ran out into the garden after him, eager to get up into the sky. It could be weeks before he saw Sirius again and if he couldn't stay here he might not be able to play quidditch with him for a long time. "Two against one is it?" Sirius called out as Remus joined them.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Padfoot, I'm more of a liability than anything else," Lupin said, chucking the quaffle to Harry.

---

Harry threw himself onto one of Remus' armchairs. The springs dug into his back but he was too exhausted to move.

"I'm going up for a shower. Don't eat 'til I get down," Sirius said, ruffling Harry's hair as he passed him.

"'kay," Harry replied, ducking away from his hand.

"Severus said you were ill this week," Remus said, as soon as Sirius had left the room.

"It was no big deal. I just had a headache and then my scar hurt," Harry shrugged.

So that was what Snape wanted to talk about before they left. It was a bit weird that Snape was talking about him to Remus, he never used to do that. It wasn't even like it was that big a deal; he was barely ill.

"Severus took care of you?"

"Oh, yeah. When he saw I was ill he gave me potions and looked after me." 

"You didn't ask for anything?" Remus asked, frowning. "I'm sure he'd have given you a potion if you'd asked."

"It was just a headache," Harry replied easily, peering round the door hoping to see Sirius return so that he could eat something.

"If you were at your aunt and uncle's and you felt ill, would you have asked for anything?" Harry's eyes narrowed. What kind of question was that? Remus hadn't said anything about the Dursleys after the whole flooing back to Hogwarts incident, but now he was bringing it up again.

"No. It was only a headache."

"If you're unwell, would you ask me or Sirius for help?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?" Harry asked defensively.

"Yes, it matters a lot." Remus said seriously. "If you were unwell, would your relatives have looked after you?"

"I don't know. They wouldn't let me die or anything." Why couldn't Remus see that he didn't want to talk about this? Everyone knew the Dursleys hated him, absolutely everyone! Now, suddenly, everyone wants to talk about how much they hated him. It wasn't a big deal; it was an unfortunate fact of life. No one wanted to say anything when the Weasleys rescued him and no one cared about why he ran away last year, but now suddenly people want to talk about how the Dursleys treated him and make it sound like–.

If that wasn't bad enough Remus had some mental idea that he was some sort of victim. He'd fought Voldemort twice, he'd killed a basilisk but Remus thought that he was being– he thought that he couldn't look after himself! Besides Dumbledore or someone would have said something in the past thirteen years if there was something really wrong. Dumbledore knew about the cupboard under the stairs, and the Weasleys knew about the bars on his window. If it had been that bad he wouldn't have been left there.

"Harry, if you want to talk about–"

"Where's Sirius?" Harry interrupted, trying to cut Remus off before he could carry on talking about his relatives. "Shouldn't he be back by now?"

"Harry, if you're not ready to talk about it we don't have to right now. I'm just trying to help you."

"There's nothing to talk about. I know what you think," Harry replied, irritation creeping into his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I heard you talking to Sirius a couple of weeks ago and you're wrong about why I'm not there. Dumbledore just changed his mind. He knew they didn't like me and he changed his mind about me having to stay there. Nothing changed or got worse there or whatever you're thinking. You don't have to worry about it."

"I'm sorry, Harry. You were taken away because of how they treated you. I've spoken to both Albus and Severus," Remus said patiently.

"No, you're wrong. That doesn't make any sense. The Dursleys have treated me the same every time I've been with them. If it was because of how they treated me then why would Dumbledore have waited until now?" Not to mention why was Dumbledore giving Remus all the answers and not him. And what the hell did Snape know?

"Harry–" Remus started.

"No, look, the Dursleys don't like me. They hate me, but that's it. They can hate me if they want to; it's hardly a crime is it?" Why couldn't Remus just understand?

"What they did to you was wrong."

"You don't know what they did to me," Harry replied furiously, his voice rising.

"What's with all the yelling?" Sirius asked from the doorway. He looked at Harry and Remus. "Is this about Snivellus?"

"No," Harry yelled. Why was everything about Snape with him?

"What's going on?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know why it's such a big deal to you," Harry threw at Remus who was beginning to look more and more concerned. Sirius' expression changed to one of instant comprehension.

"Did you ask him about his relatives?" 

"There's nothing to tell!"

"Harry, calm down. Please," said Remus and Harry felt a bit guilty seeing how tired he looked.

"I don't know what you think, but it wasn't that bad. I don't know why you think it's such a big deal," Harry said, shaking his head.

"We don't have to talk about it, but if you change your mind, you know where we are," Remus said quietly.

"Can I just go home? I'm really tired," Harry asked, avoiding looking Sirius in the eye. It was better he left early than end up arguing with Sirius as well, not to mention that Remus looked so weary.

Remus nodded but Sirius frowned. "You sure, Harry?"

"Yeah, sorry," Harry said, his shoulders hunching as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Come here then, kiddo. I'll come back soon, okay? I won't leave you with old Snivellus."

"Right, stay safe." He hugged him tightly back.

Harry and Remus went through the floo returning to Severus' quarters and Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I hope you're still looking forward to next week."

"I am, really. I can't wait." Harry said sincerely trying to muster up a smile, regretting arguing with Remus at all.

"See you in a week then, Harry. I just need a quick word with Severus."

S.S.

The first thing he noticed when the pair returned was that Potter was unhappy. He'd left in a relatively good mood but something had obviously happened, more than likely Lupin's attempts at talking to the boy had failed miserably. 

The wolf insisted upon speaking to him before he departed, so there they stood once again in the kitchen, discussing Potter.

"Yes, Lupin?" Severus asked, letting his irritation creep into his voice.

"It did not go well at all. I don't think he's ready to discuss this." 

"That explains his face. You are aware that I send him to you so that he can be around people that make him happy. This isn't the first time that he's returned here the opposite," Severus remarked pointedly.

It was obvious that Lupin was doing his utmost to rise above Severus' remarks and he continued as if Severus hadn't spoke. "Incidentally, I know why he left now, the first time."

This caught Severus' interest. He hadn't pushed for the whole story knowing that the boy did not trust him enough to confide in him. "I only got half the story, myself," he admitted.

"It was my fault. He heard me insinuating that he was being mistreated by his relatives to the point where he'd need to be taken out of their care."

It was a natural assumption to make. Why would Potter take it that badly?

"He's very insistent that they did nothing wrong to him," Lupin continued. "I obviously couldn't say anything, but I think he genuinely believes that they didn't overstep the mark. He mentioned that they hated him and obviously he says that he doesn't like them, but I don't think he realises how bad their treatment of him was. Either that or he's in denial."

This explains why he was upset. He was clearly confused – he knew they treated him badly but doesn't recognise it as abuse and would no doubt hate for people to think of it in that light.

"I think the fact that he doesn't understand why he was taken away from them is really confusing for him. You need to tell him, Severus."

"I've said no countless times, wolf."

"I don't see why–"

"I told you before. Are you hard of hearing or just that dense?" Severus hissed angrily.

"I'm not buying that stuff about Albus not caring enough about him. It'll be worse for him in the long run if you don't tell him," Lupin persevered.

"It's my decision, Lupin. I'll thank you to keep out of it."

The wolf shook his head as he left, dropping a hand briefly on Potter's shoulder on his way to the floo.

Severus regarded the boy from the kitchen doorway. He sat on the sofa scowling darkly, staring into the fire, and quite clearly wallowing. That wouldn't do.

"Have you eaten, Mr. Potter?"

"No. Remus had food but I didn't get to eating it," the boy replied, as if worried that Severus would be irritated by Lupin.

"Go and sit at the dinner table. I'll make something for you." He wouldn't have the boy starve on his watch and this way he could keep an eye on him.

"You don't have to. I'm not that hungry," Potter replied, shrinking further into his seat.

"You need to have dinner," he said sternly. Must the child make everything an argument?

"I can cook it myself then. You don't have to cook just for me," he said as he reluctantly stood. 

Could he? You'd never know the child had any experience cooking from the way he mishandled his potions ingredients. "Kitchen, sit down, now." Severus ordered, pointing to reinforce the instruction.

The boy did as he was told, all but throwing himself into his seat.

"Is there something you would actually like to eat?" Severus asked, scanning the cupboards for something quick to make.

"Um, maybe just toast."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exhausting. "Don't be ridiculous. You like spaghetti, you can have that." 

"Should I help?" Potter asked from the table.

"I'm quite capable, Mr. Potter," Severus replied, summoned the ingredients he required. He'd been serious in his offer to cook for himself then. "How did you learn to cook?" 

"My aunt taught me," Potter replied shortly.

Did she now? "When did you learn?" 

"When I was little."

No doubt this was partly where Potter's insistence that he could take care of himself stemmed from. "Usually a skill such as cooking would mean you would have some aptitude for potions," Severus remarked as he pulled out the necessary pans and cutlery.

"I'm not that good. I mostly did fry ups and stuff," Potter mumbled tiredly.

Severus bit his tongue. Potter was revealing more than he intended but he would shut down if he knew the real reason Severus was prying. Petunia had a lot to answer for.

"To be able to cook anything at a young age is a bonus when it comes to potions. Come here," Severus ordered. Potter joined him in front of the oven, looking up at him warily.

Severus pulled the ingredients towards the both of them. "I have my ingredients. How do I prepare them?"

Potter looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Why are–"

"Just answer the question, Potter, before I lose my patience," Severus snapped, though his tone lacked any real anger.

He heard the boy sigh angrily but he answered the question. "Um, you need to cut up the onion first." Severus did as he said and then stopped.

"Now what? Talk me through it." He gestured to the remaining ingredients.

"Put it in the pan, with oil then heat it. Not that high," he exclaimed as Severus deliberately lit a too large flame under the pan.

Severus let the boy take over, merely following his instructions and occasionally making a comment or error to prove a point. It seemed that it was taking the boy's mind well enough off his disastrous day with the wolf as Potter became more animated. "You have to stir it in, Professor." Severus gave it a casual stir then put the spoon down. "No, you have to stir it in properly."

"There's a proper way to stir things?" Severus asked in a mock surprised voice, raising an eyebrow. You'd never have thought so with the careless way Potter stirred his own potions, he refused to appreciate the small steps that went into brewing.

He didn't expect the boy to smile and nod at his words. He continued to let him dictate how to cook the meal and watched with a confused kind of satisfaction as Potter cheered up, getting more and more excitable.

"Ah, no. We haven't put the carrots in," Potter exclaimed loudly as Snape finished making the sauce, picking up the offending vegetable.

"Why is that a problem?" Severus asked.

"They take longer to cook, so we can't put it in now."

"Go and sit down. I'll dish it up."

H.P.

"I get it, Professor," Harry said as his plate was set in front of him.

"What is it that you 'get'?" Snape replied, sitting down opposite. He hadn't expected him to sit with him while he ate seeing as he hadn't made any for himself.

"Cooking's a bit like potions," he replied, twisting the spaghetti round his fork.

"And?" Snape replied, arching an eyebrow.

"You have to cut things up the right way or it'll come out wrong. Like you can't just put half a mushroom in; you have to cut it up," Harry said, shoving another forkful in his mouth.

"Anything else?" Snape replied, throwing a sheet of kitchen roll across the table at him as he looked on in disgust at the way Harry inhaled his food.

Harry finished chewing before answering. "Um. You have to do it in the right order otherwise it won't come out right. I knew that anyway though."

"Indeed?" Snape replied as if re-counting every potion of Harry's he'd ever vanished.

"Well, I never figured how you chopped it up was that much of a big deal because it's not like cooking dinner. It just looks like it all gets thrown in and turns into a potion," Harry said, waving his fork at his dinner. "But I figured about the order thing."

"Do you think you'll do any better this week, Mr. Potter?" Snape said, spelling the pans into the sink.

Harry had an idea that might be good. Snape probably wouldn't want to do it though.

"It wasn't a rhetorical question, Potter."

"Maybe, like, if you– I could do what we just did for the potion and you could tell me if I'm doing it wrong or something," Harry suggested, not looking up from his plate.

"If it would help you learn that way, I would not be averse to trying it," Snape replied carefully.

 

H.P.

Snape was sorting through the mail when Harry dropped into his seat for breakfast and as he reached for the cereal a letter zoomed across the table towards him. "Ron!" Harry exclaimed happily, recognising the writing on the parchment.

He read the letter at the table. His friend's untidy scrawl was difficult to read but Harry couldn't use that as an excuse to put off dealing with its contents. 'Ask if we can come to the castle already! Hermione won't stop going on about it and I want to see you, mate.'

It wasn't that Harry didn't want to see Ron and Hermione– he did! It had been ages, after all. It was just that Snape would never go for it, but he supposed he wouldn't be much of a Gryffindor if he didn't at least ask. Harry was mulling over how best to approach Snape when a filled bowl of cereal was thrust under his nose.

"Eat something, Potter. Potions is in fifteen minutes."

He knew exactly how he was going to ask Snape. If he impressed Snape enough, he would realise that it was a great idea for Harry to invite his friends to Hogwarts and he'd love to look after another two Gryffindors as well as Harry for a day, or something along those lines at least.

"Ready, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked.

Snape watched him as he set up his cauldron and laid out his supplies.

"Brew it yourself while you talk me through it. Hopefully this way I will be able to determine how much you've actually taken in and stop you from making your usual errors," Snape said, crossing his arms.

"Oh. Okay," Harry replied nervously. It was going to be far more difficult to impress him if he was going to be quizzing him at the same time! "Um. I have to crush the beetle legs first." Snape said nothing, continuing to watch him sternly so Harry went ahead and began crushing them before putting them to the side and uncorking the vial of leech juice. "Right, now I have to–"

Snape cut him off abruptly, slamming the book open onto the desk and pointing to the first line of instructions. "Crush the beetle legs finely. What would happen if you put them in like that?"

"It would be wrong…?" Harry guessed.

"And why would it be wrong?" Snape bit out impatiently.

"Uhhm because." Harry drew out the words for as long as possible trying to come up with a good reason.

"It should be obvious. It will blend with the other components at the correct speed if they are ground finely," Snape said, retrieving Harry's pestle and mortar and gesturing for him to continue grinding.

"Oh."

"So what would happen if they are not ground finely?" Snape questioned as though toncheck he'd really been listening.

"Um, it would take longer to do that bit and that would screw up the timing for the rest of it," Harry said.

"You need to work on your vocabulary, Potter, but yes, you are correct."

"I am?" Harry said grinning.

"I wouldn't get used to it, if I were you," Snape replied without venom.

They continued in the same manner throughout the lesson with Snape quizzing him on each step of the process and Harry realised that he knew more about potions than he thought.

"I get potions more this way. How come we can't do it like this all the time?"

"You can get all this from your textbook if you bother to actually read it," Snape remarked pointedly.

"I read it, but it's not the same as doing it practically."

"Potter, in case you haven't noticed potions is an incredibly dangerous subject, your friend Longbottom should be evidence enough, and it is my unfortunate job to teach you, as well as to ensure that you don't seriously injure yourselves. That is why we cannot do this all the time."

"Neville's not that bad." He felt obliged to defend his fellow Gryffindor. After all, it wasn't entirely his fault.

"Longbottom is appalling. Perhaps if he learnt to follow instructions he wouldn't be such a disaster."

"You freak him out," Harry replied, annoyed.

"And I was under the impression that Gryffindors were supposed to be brave – you're stirring too fast."

"Oh." Harry slowed down.

"Turn the heat off." Snape summoned an empty vial and scooped up some of the potion. Snape inspected it carefully and seemed to struggle internally for a moment. "This is… satisfactory." That was quite a compliment from Snape, and he seemed to want to say something else but settled for just nodding before sweeping from the room.

It was all going according to plan. His potion came out great, so now all he had to do was actually ask if Ron and Hermione could come to the castle.

S.S.

The boy was actually better than he'd thought. His laziness was the only thing stopping him from excelling. If he put the knowledge he had to good use when he was actually brewing instead of getting distracted or rushing, then his potions would be far better than just 'satisfactory'.

Lily had a natural aptitude for potions. She was good at all subjects, of course, but she was truly gifted at potions, beyond even his talent.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had been his subject. It didn't matter that the school was teaching how to oppose dark forces; he'd simply lived and breathed the dark arts. It was powerful and intoxicating and it could give him everything he ever wanted. But potions had always come a close second. It couldn't give you power but it could give you a wonderful feeling of absolute control, and control was exactly what he needed.

Lily had discipline but she also had creativity. She could get the feel of a potion and know just what to add to make it that much better. She had fantastic intuition and it had been inspiring to watch.

Potter could have something of his mother's gift if he had an ounce of passion for the subject. Perhaps he could have had an interest in the subject had his teacher given him the freedom to develop some. Instead, the boy had inherited his idiotic father's love of flying around on a glorified stick, a pointless passion if ever there was one.

Snape frowned as he heard two different voices coming from the living room and found the headmaster and Potter chatting on the sofas. 

"–he left. He said he wanted to stay somewhere near Hogwarts," Potter said.

"It is imperative that he finds somewhere else to lay low. We cannot risk him getting caught," the headmaster replied seriously. No doubt they were discussing the boy's dog. Severus lip curled; it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he got caught…

"Yeah, I suppose," Potter replied shrugging. "Oh! Sir, I wanted to say thanks," he said suddenly as if he'd just remembered something.

"For what, my boy?"

"The money from the school, for my clothes," he said, waving his arms as if to show the headmaster the clothes in question. Severus' eyes widened and he cleared his throat to announce his presence. Potter whipped around, spotting him. "Hi, sir."

"I'm not quite sure what–" the headmaster began.

"Headmaster, is there something you wanted?" Severus asked, interrupting him quickly.

"Ah, yes. I just came to inform you that we're having a staff meeting on Thursday about the plans for next year."

"Right. Potter, go to your room," Severus ordered. 

"But–"

"I'd like to speak to the headmaster, Potter. Leave now, please," Severus said in a tone that brooked no arguments.

"Fine. Bye, sir," Potter said, giving a wave to the headmaster and sending a frustrated glare to Severus.

"Severus?" His employer raised a questioning eyebrow once the boy had left.

"I bought the boy clothes and I told him that the school fund would pay for it because he wanted to buy them himself," Severus revealed, getting straight to the point.

"Why?"

"I couldn't let him pay for them; he's a child," Severus answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You could have told him that you would be the one paying for them. You are his guardian."

"He would not accept them from me and I do not want him to know that I am providing for him."

"Perhaps if you were honest about the whole situation then it need not be a problem."

"Don't be ridiculous. I will not tell him, and he doesn't need to know."

"Why is it so important to you to keep him in the dark?"

"I'm trying to do what's best for him."

"This is what's best?"

"I don't know. I know nothing about looking after a child and yet here I am. He needed clothes so I bought him some and I told him that the money would come from the school fund. That is what I wish him to believe."

"I will not lie to the boy, Severus." The headmaster held up a hand to prevent Severus from jumping down his throat. "I'm not saying that I will tell him the truth, but if he asks I will not lie. I suggest that you tell him the truth."

Severus chose not to enlighten the headmaster about what he thought he could do with his suggestions.

"I will see you on Thursday, headmaster. Thank you," Severus said, ending the conversation as politely as he was able.

H.P.

"Did he go?" Harry asked, opening the door to his room after hearing the portrait shut. Snape had a real thing about kicking him out of the room. He was in the middle of a conversation, and it's not like he got to talk to many people during the summer.

"Yes, he's gone," Snape snapped. Obviously whatever they'd discussed hadn't gone that well; his good mood seemed to have entirely evaporated.

"Oh. I was trying to say thanks for the clothes."

"I know, Potter, I was there, as was the headmaster," Snape drawled before taking a breath. "I'm sure he appreciates that you're grateful." It seemed a lot like he had no idea what he was talking about, so how could Dumbledore know he was grateful?

"I wasn't sure he knew what I was on about–" Harry tried.

"I explained what it was you were blathering on about, Potter. Drop it," Snape snarled, stalking to his own rooms and shutting the door firmly.

Maybe now wasn't such a good time to ask about Ron and Hermione... He supposed he'd have to wait a bit longer. This would be a lot easier if the man wasn't always angry. Why did Dumbledore have to come and get him all worked up?

---

S.S.

"Potter, I know you're excited but if you don't stop pacing I will stick you to the wall," Severus threatened. "And it will be with a permanent sticking charm." Excited didn't cover it. The boy had thought of nothing else all week.

"Sorry, sir," Potter replied, watching the fire eagerly, as if by staring at it he could make the wolf appear sooner. He'd put up with the boy's anticipation all week, the boy had marked it on the calendar in his room.

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Like what?"

Severus marked his place in his book. "A coat for a start. An ice rink will be cold, yes? The wolf can shrink it when you go to London." There was silence and Severus reopened his book, settling back down to continue reading.

"Uh, I don't have a coat, not a muggle one."

He sighed. That was an oversight. It was the summer and he hadn't thought of it, wanting to get out of the muggle shopping centre as soon as possible. He'd have to buy the boy one for winter. Severus strode to his own rooms and came out carrying a black muggle coat that he kept for his own brief excursions into the muggle world. "Come here," he ordered.

He put the coat on him to gauge his size, then shrunk it to fit him. "That'll do."

"Thanks," Potter mumbled, looking down.

"You need socks," he commented, sitting back down.

"I have socks," he replied, confused.

"I'm aware that you have socks," Severus snapped, eager to get back to reading. "I meant for the ice rink."

"Why?"

"You'll hurt your feet," he answered shortly. "Have at least three pairs."

"How do you know? Have you been before?" the boy asked curiously.

"No," he replied, giving him a 'does it look like I've ever gone ice skating' look. "I'm not completely oblivious to the muggle world, Potter." Growing up in the muggle world had given him various insights into these things. He'd never experienced it himself, but Lily had spoken about it and he had watched television.

"What am I going to do with three pairs of socks?" Potter asked, scrunching his face up in confusion.

"Wear them."

"No, I mean when we're done."

"I couldn't care less what you do with them."

"I'm not going to carry socks around all day. Can't Remus just use a cushioning charm or something?"

"There's going to be muggles everywhere, Potter," he replied, exasperated. "Wear extra socks so he won't have to risk doing magic in front of them." The child had no common sense.

"We've said socks so much it doesn't sound like a word," Potter commented, although it seemed more like he was talking to himself. "Socks."

Severus rolled his eyes, disappearing behind his book. He didn't have too long to wait before the wolf appeared and when he did, Severus noticed from over the top of the paper that Lupin was dressed far more smartly than usual.

"Hey!" Potter greeted him brightly.

"Hi, Harry," the wolf started, grimacing apologetically, seeming apprehensive. Severus thought that he could see exactly where this was going and he shut his book with a snap, glaring at the pair of them through narrowed eyes.

Potter was looking a little awkward but hopeful and he smiled. "Um, I'm ready," he said, waiting for Lupin to do or say something.

"Harry, I know I said I'd take you out today–" The boy's face fell. "–but something's come up. I promise you it will happen. I'll take you next Saturday."

"Is this because of last week?" Potter asked quietly, looking incredibly vulnerable and Severus cursed the wolf's timing. Of course Potter would think that Lupin cancelling on him was something to do with their previous row.

"No! No, Harry, its work. I wouldn't cancel on you for anything else but I've only been there a week and I can't afford to say no at this stage and my boss literally just rang. I promise that I'll make it clear that I can't do Saturdays in future." To his credit Lupin did look genuinely unhappy that he was cancelling on the boy, but the damage was done.

"Yeah, it's okay. Don't worry about it," Potter replied, nodding. It was evident that he was trying to make the wolf think he was fine but the boy was an open book.

"Thanks, Harry. Next Saturday, okay?" Lupin attempted to reassure him despite being eager to leave.

"Yeah." Potter gave a half hearted smile and shrugged.

"Lupin, a word," Severus demanded before the wolf could escape. He was going to give him a piece of his mind. That damned wolf knew he had to have his Saturdays free. He'd made a commitment.

"Severus–" Lupin said desperately, gesturing towards the fire. Evidently he was expected to leave right away. That wasn't Severus' problem.

"Lupin." Severus gestured to the kitchen angrily and Lupin took a fortifying breath before following.

"Do you have any idea how much Potter's been looking forward to this damned trip of yours?" Severus stated as soon as the door shut.

"Don't try to make me feel guiltier than I do already. I just got this job and you have no idea how hard it was to find one at all."

"It's rather late notice," Severus bit out, partly just to irritate the wolf, knowing that he was pressed for time.

"Severus it is one Saturday. It won't happen again and I'm still going to take him to London. It's just going to be a week later. I can see that he's disappointed," Lupin said impatiently, eyeing the door.

"Perhaps it was a mistake having you take Potter at all if you cannot keep your commitments," Severus hissed at him.

"Be reasonable. I have to go; I'm already late." Lupin slipped out the door throwing an apologetic look once more at Potter as he departed through the floo.

The problem for Severus was that he now had to take care of the boy for the day. Any other day, he could have just resumed their usual schedule and left Potter to his own devices for the afternoon, but the boy had been looking forward to this day for weeks. He couldn't have him wallowing in his disappointment all day.

He had planned to begin brewing his pain potion but it would likely take all day. That would have to be put off until the next weekend thanks to that flea-bitten wolf. He had no errands to take the boy on but he supposed he could just pretend, take the child to Cornwall, see the sea. He could use it as an excuse to pick up ingredients for his stores as well as distracting the boy.

Potter was still on the couch, staring into space, no doubt brooding over the wolf's behaviour. "Put your shoes back on."

"What?" Potter asked, looking up. "Sir," he finished, remembering his manners.

"Shoes, Potter. Put them on! It seems that you will be in my care today, so you will accompany me while I gather ingredients."

Potter didn't look particularly enthused by the idea but did as he was told nonetheless.

"Aren't we going to the forest?" he asked as they passed by the forbidden forest on their way out of the castle's main gates.

"No, not the forest."

"Then where are we going?" he asked, perplexed.

"You'll see when we're there. Hold my arm," Severus ordered.

"What?" The boy looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"This will be uncomfortable," Severus warned as he grabbed Potter's shoulder and apparated them to Cornwall.

H.P.

Harry felt just as awful as last time. It was like he'd been squeezed through a really narrow tube and he had trouble keeping his breakfast down as they landed on solid ground.

"Doesn't it get better?" he asked as soon as the queasiness passed.

"It can be quite uncomfortable when you aren't used to the sensation." Snape said, releasing his shoulder.

Harry took the opportunity to take in their surroundings. They couldn't be anywhere near the castle. They were on a small bay, which was cut off from the surrounding beaches due to the tide. The sand was golden and they were surrounded by high rocky cliffs that jutted out, cutting them off from the other beaches. It was far warmer here than it had been at Hogwarts and Harry stared with wide eyes at the sea.

"Wow," he breathed. He'd never been to the beach before, or seen the sea in person for that matter. "Where are we?"

"Cornwall, Mr. Potter. Porthcurno to be exact."

Snape walked towards the sea, seeming quite interested in the seaweed and Harry figured that must be what he came to fetch. He'd obviously put a spell on his shoes and trousers to stop the water from touching him as his clothes were bone dry. It was a blisteringly hot day and Harry was strongly tempted to take his shoes off and go in the water, but he held back.

"We're going to be here quite some time, Potter. You may as well amuse yourself instead of standing there looking gormless," Snape said, turning to look at him.

Harry took that to mean he was quite welcome to do whatever he wanted and hastily took his shoes off and let the water wash over his feet.

"BLOODY HELL!"

At his exclamation he thought he heard Snape stifle a snigger and when he turned to face him he was smirking. "Can't handle a little cold, Potter?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"You can talk; you're cheating," Harry muttered.

"I'm not here for a paddle, Mr. Potter, and mind your manners," Severus said, using his wand to send a small wave of water over the boy's legs.

"MERLIN! It's freezing, why is it so cold?" Harry gasped.

"It's not warm enough here to heat the water even if it feels mild," Snape answered, spelling seaweed out of the sea and putting it inside a transfigured glass jar.

Mild was an understatement. He walked further out, treading on seaweed and shells in the water as it got deeper. He figured it wouldn't matter seeing as Snape had already gotten his clothes wet.

"Don't go too far. You haven't been to the seaside before?" 

"No," Harry replied shortly. The Dursleys had taken Dudley a few times and he had always wanted to go, but that was always one of the things he would be sent to Mrs. Figg's for.

"Can't you buy seaweed from an apothecary?" Harry asked, changing the subject. He didn't want to think about the Dursleys.

"Why pay for an ingredient that I have the means to procure myself?" Snape answered, shrinking the jar and placing it in one of the pockets of his robes.

S.S.

Severus was having trouble thinking of what to do with the boy now that he'd gone through the farce of collecting seaweed. He seemed quite happy entertaining himself and Severus looked on as the boy picked up a small stone, trying and failing to skip it.

"You need a flatter stone," Severus informed him, divesting himself of his cloak then skipping one himself. Harry watched it bounce three times and grinned.

He tried again, this time with a stone like Severus', but it just dropped into the sea again. "I've never been able to do it. I've tried on the lake when the giant squid's not around," Potter said with a shrug.

"Try again. Watch first," Severus ordered, slowing down the hand movement so that the boy could see what he was doing before skipping the stone properly.

Harry tried again and the stone bounced off the surface once. "Did you see that? I did it, it bounced." The boy was clearly thrilled and Severus shook his head at his excitement.

"It did." Severus agreed.

"Sir?" Potter asked tentatively.

"Spit it out," he replied suspiciously.

"Can Ron and Hermione come to the castle one day this summer?"

Severus scowled at the thought of the boy's two sidekicks but he didn't have the heart to give an outright no after the boy's earlier disappointment. "Perhaps something can be arranged," he said, stressing the 'perhaps' so much that it sounded like he'd actually said 'when hell freezes over something can be arranged.'

 

S.S.

"Why is it, Mr. Potter, that two days after I take you to the beach I'm still finding sand in my quarters?" Severus asked, spelling sand off of the sofa.

"Um, sand gets around, sir," Potter replied, looking up from the letter he was writing balanced on his knees.

"Indeed it does if you bury yourself in it," Severus returned, with an irritated edge to his voice, crossing the room to sit on the other chair and read the Prophet.

"It was worth it," came the muttered reply, which Severus pretended not to hear.

Severus regarded Potter over the top of his newspaper. The boy looked unusually irritated that morning considering his good mood from the previous two days. He was certain that the boy had enjoyed his day at the beach and he was sure that he'd made up for the wolf's careless disregard of the child's feelings. It had taken Severus' threat of a grounding for the boy to stop with the 'thank yous' for taking him out for the day. Luckily the child was oblivious that it was all done for his benefit, which suited Severus just fine. He would then have to hear no end of 'thank you's' yet again if the boy was ever to find out.

H.P.

Harry was rereading his letter from Sirius, increasingly irritated with each line.

Harry,

What were you thinking leaving the castle with Snape? He could have taken you anywhere! I've told you not to trust him – there are things you don't know about him. Don't put yourself in danger by leaving with him again.

I know you were probably disappointed that Remus couldn't take you out. He was gutted too, but that's no reason to go anywhere with Snape. I want you to promise me you won't do it again.

I'll wait until I next see you to give your birthday present. I didn't get to see your face when you got your Firebolt. Enjoy your birthday.

Padfoot

Harry was pretty annoyed about the whole thing to be honest and so he figured the direct approach would probably be best. He loved his godfather but he could be really dense sometimes.

Padfoot,

Look, I get that you don't like Snape but I don't see why I can't go places with him. I live with him, so if he wanted to do me in he could do it here. It's not like he can go off somewhere else, kill me, then just come back to the castle without people getting suspicious. Not that it matters because he isn't going to kill me. Remus trusts him, Dumbledore trusts him and I trust him.

He's alright, you know. He's not nice all the time but we're getting on loads better and he's taking good care of me, and I had a great time at the beach. Honestly, it was really good and I'm not going to promise that I won't do it again.

Don't be mad about it. I can't wait to see you. Stay safe.

Harry

Maybe that's too harsh. He reread his letter. He couldn't believe he was standing up for Snape to his godfather, but he was being ridiculous. He'd known Snape for the last three years and the man had saved his life twice already. He may have hated him in the past but he couldn't deny that he was trustworthy, and now, what with everything, he didn't hate him as such.

What was more annoying was that his godfather didn't think he was smart enough to know who to trust or when he was getting into a dangerous situation. He wasn't an idiot. He'd been in enough life threatening situations to know when he was in danger.

"Stand up for me, Mr Potter," Snape said from beside him. What was he on about? Did he read his letter?

Snape obviously didn't expect a reply, busy as he was unwrapping a lumpy parcel. "Get up, Potter. I won't ask you again." Harry stood as Snape pulled out a black muggle coat and unzipped it, holding it out for Harry to put his arms into. He regarded Harry critically for a moment. "It seems to fit. Is it satisfactory, Mr. Potter?"

"My birthday's not for two days, sir," Harry replied, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"It's not a gift, Potter," Snape said, taking it back and folding it up. "It's a coat. I neglected to buy you one when we went to the shopping centre. I'm merely rectifying that."

"Thank you, sir. It's really nice," Harry said, taking it back off him. "Uh, have you thought any more about when Ron and Hermione can come to the castle?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "When, Potter?"

"Well, you didn't say no…"

"I did not, but neither did I say yes. I am still considering it."

Harry exhaled noisily. He wasn't disappointed… Well, he was. Snape was just putting it off so that he could say no later. Then again, that wasn't very Snape. He was the kind of man who liked to hiss 'no' in your face, but then maybe he was trying to drag out the disappointment.

"Don't stand there looking gormless, put it away."

H.P.

That night Harry awoke to yet a burning pain in his scar, shooting up in bed with a yelp that had Snape striding into his room not ten seconds later.

"I didn't mean to yell," Harry said automatically. His uncle had not taken well to nightly disturbances of any kind, not that there had been many, but he seemed to have unusually sharp hearing where Harry was concerned.

Snape stopped short at Harry's words, a dark expression crossing his face. "Calm yourself, Mr. Potter," he said quietly and Harry relaxed minutely, realising that he wasn't about to endure yet another argument on top of the pain in his head.

Snape knelt beside his bed. "You're irritating your scar. Does it hurt?" Snape pried his hand off of his forehead.

"N-no. No."

"Potter, I need you to tell me what's happened."

"Nothing happened, sir. I just woke up and my scar hurt," Harry said truthfully, trying to stop his hands shaking. Snape must think he was being a right attention seeking idiot.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Not five seconds ago you told me that you were not in any pain," he reminded him with a frustrated edge to his voice.

"It only hurts a bit. It's no big deal," Harry shrugged.

"I'll be the judge of what is and what is not a big deal, Mr. Potter."

Snape abruptly stood and left the room, leaving Harry to wonder if he'd offended him or something. It wasn't like he was upset about him leaving, he hadn't expected him to stay. It's not like he needed a cuddle or something stupid like that, but he couldn't help but wonder why he left so quickly. He supposed he didn't need to wonder, it was obvious, Snape found out what he needed to know and then left. Well, that was fine.

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his prickling scar tiredly. Why had it started hurting all of a sudden? That was what had him on edge, more so than the pain. He should probably ask Dumbledore or Snape in the morning.

Suddenly, Harry felt something cool on his forehead and he jerked back, slamming his head on his headboard. "Oww," he groaned, wincing. He opened his eyes and saw Snape next to him holding a damp flannel and a glass of water. Harry unexpectedly found a lump form in his throat but swallowed past it.

"Drink this," Snape said, putting the glass in his hand.

"Thank you," Harry replied, sipping it. Merlin, the man could be quiet when he wanted to be.

"I'm hesitant to give you a potion, but if you'd like a pain reliever I will summon one."

"It's okay, just stings a little now." He reached up to rub his irritated scar only to have his hand pulled down again. That was becoming an annoying habit. Snape pressed the cloth to his forehead again with his other hand on the back of Harry's head in case he slammed it backwards again.

"This is fine," Harry mumbled, closing his eyes. It felt really nice to have the cool cloth against his skin and to have someone do it for him. He didn't want Snape to leave but he thought he must be irritated enough as it was that Harry had woken him up.

"Sir? I'm sorry I woke you up."

"You did not wake me but it is of no consequence," Snape replied calmly, turning the cloth over before pressing it against Harry's scar once more.

"I know you're mad–"

"Ridiculous. I am not angry with you, and even if I did object to the hour I'm inclined to blame the Dark Lord, not you." He took the cloth off his head. "Is the pain gone?"

"Yeah, it's okay. Why do you think my scar hurt? I'm not sick."

"I can only speculate. I shall speak to the headmaster in the morning."

"But what do you think?" Harry pressed. It's not like he hadn't spoken to Dumbledore about it and he was there last time. He must be able to tell him something.

Snape stood before speaking. Harry guessed that it was because kneeling beside the bed was uncomfortable. Snape folded his arms and tapped his fingers against his arm thoughtfully. "Based on what I have discussed with the headmaster I would think that the Dark Lord was experiencing some very strong emotions tonight that broke through while you were asleep. I do not think that you would have felt anything had you been awake."

Harry nodded. "Right. Should we be worried about whatever it was?"

"I suggest that you put it out of your mind entirely," Snape said with a hard glare.

"But Voldemort could be up to something!" Harry replied indignantly.

"Do NOT speak his name!"

"Dumbledore does," Harry replied, irritated that Snape was dismissing the issue. Why does Snape even care what he calls him and why does he keep calling Voldemort the 'Dark Lord'?

"Professor Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard."

"Fine! He could be up to something really bad–"

"I assure you that you need not think on it. The headmaster will be alerted," Snape said with a note of finality.

Harry then realised that it must be his birthday now or almost at least. "What time is it, sir?"

"Time for bed, Mr. Potter," Snape replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Has there been any post for me?"

"I'm not checking the post at one o'clock in the morning, birthday or no birthday, Potter," Snape said, his tone coloured with irritation.

"You know it's my birthday?" Harry said incredulously.

"I'm not completely unaware."

"Oh. Can I check it?" Harry asked, swinging his legs out of bed.

"No, I do not permit you to wander around in the middle of the night unless you have need of me."

"But– look it's just this once, I'll go to sleep after."

"You can wait until morning to open your presents, Potter," Snape snapped impatiently. It was obvious that he was trying not to lose his temper.

"It won't take long," Harry entreated.

"Why, Potter, is it so important that you do it right now?" Snape asked through gritted teeth.

"I don't know."

"No. It will still be your birthday in the morning. Not another word." Harry shut his mouth, realising that it was futile to argue further. "Lie down," Snape ordered, as if he was certain that Harry would take to wandering. "Goodnight."

"Do you think it'll happen again?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows as Snape made to leave his room.

"It is unlikely, but I can give you some dreamless sleep. It should put you into a deep enough sleep that you won't be caused any discomfort should your connection bother you."

"Yes, please," Harry murmured sleepily. He didn't want Snape to think he was pathetic but he didn't want to sleep if he was just going to be woken up by his scar again.

Snape summoned the vial and uncorked it, holding it out for Harry to take. "One swallow."

Harry eyes drooped shut right away and he let himself go limp as he dropped back onto his pillows. He felt his glasses being plucked off his face and looked up blearily at the Snape shaped blob standing over him. "Thanks f'r the potion," he mumbled before sleep claimed him.

---

S.S.

Severus sighed and leant tiredly against the kitchen counter. It was eight in the morning and he'd just returned from speaking with the headmaster about Potter's scar. The man had little to add about the cause behind the pain except to add that yet again the Dark Lord was surely increasing in power and it was likely to be quite a frequent occurrence, but do let him know if it happens again...

Severus almost snorted in irritation. He hadn't been able to sleep during the night in case the boy needed him again that night, despite the potion he'd administered.

Truth be told, he was perhaps a little nervous too. It was the boy's birthday today and he had little experience celebrating birthdays. He couldn't care less for his own and he had no cause to celebrate others. He had on occasion seen Draco Malfoy on his, but the child was spoilt beyond compare and all Severus had to do was blend into the crowd.

He laid out the post on the kitchen table along with the boy's breakfast. He'd done a full English instead of giving the child just cereal. He wasn't entirely sure why it mattered to him that he was happy today. It must be that he wanted to set himself apart from the boys relatives. It was hardly likely that those muggles who wouldn't give the boy appropriate clothing would treat him kindly just for the sake of his birthday.

"Morning, Professor." Potter, for some unknown reason, chose to sit in the seat next to that which Severus had placed his plate, reaching forward for the plain cereal that Severus preferred.

"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered, summoning the box out of his hand and flicking his wand so that the plate of food was in front of him instead.

"It's mine?" Potter stupidly asked.

"It's your birthday."

"Oh. Yeah, thank you, you didn't have to–"

"It's breakfast, Potter, just eat it," Severus replied, waving away his thanks.

"Can I open my cards?"

Severus shot the boy an irritated look before nodding and pouring his own cereal.

He watched the boy as he opened a card with the gamekeepers writing and read it intently, smiling. He then stood it up, carefully, before opening the gift. He was as dissimilar to Draco as it was possible to get. Young Mr. Malfoy devoured his gifts, not even checking the tags. His gifts, of course, were far more lavish than the small pile adorning the kitchen table, which now consisted of three cards, a cake, a book, a box of sweets and some of Hagrid's homemade fudge. Potter was beaming as if they were the best gifts he could have hoped to receive.

Severus was not surprised that there was nothing from the boy's relatives, despite the fact that they ought to know how to contact the child at the castle considering he spent Christmas here every year. Black and Lupin appeared not to have sent anything.

"It would appear that you'll be waiting a little longer for the rest of your presents."

"Oh no, the Dursleys don't get me presents. Well, Uncle Vernon gave me a pair of his socks and a hanger once but to be honest I'd rather go without," Potter said, munching happily on his bacon.

"I was referring to your gifts from Lupin and your godfather."

"Oh. Sirius said he'd give it to me in person."

Severus nodded, not wishing to discuss Black further. He cleared his throat and summoned a box from his rooms. He and the boy were on barely good terms; he wasn't even sure the gift would be accepted. He had reasoned that he ought to get the boy something. He had been well behaved and they had been getting along a lot better of late. Besides, the boy's reprehensible relatives had clearly not allowed him to have a real birthday and he did not want to be compared to the likes of those people, so he could not hold the gift back now.

"Mr. Potter." Severus held out the box to the boy who stared at him dumbly. "Take it."

"I didn't– you didn't have to get me anything." It was clear that the boy was somewhat overwhelmed. After the coat issue a few days before he should have realised that the boy would be somewhat surprised.

"It's considered rude not to accept a gift."

The boy cleared his throat and took the box with a slightly shaking hand and unwrapped the plain green paper adorning the gift. He opened the box slowly and his eyes widened as he saw what was inside.

"Wow," he breathed, picking out the small golden ball.

"Don't let go of it; it's resistant to the summoning charm."

"It's a snitch," he said, looking at him.

"I'm glad you recognise it, considering you've been playing seeker for the last three years."

The boy put the little golden ball back into its box but didn't put it back onto the table. "Thank you. It's– thank you. I love it."

"You're welcome. Finish your breakfast."

H.P.

He really hadn't expected Snape to get him anything. He couldn't get his head around it. It wasn't just any old present either – he'd gotten him a snitch and he hated it when Gryffindor won at Quidditch. What he couldn't work out was why he'd bothered... Did he want some sort of favour? Snape wouldn't just buy him a snitch and expect nothing, would he? The Dursleys had never really done presents. Their acknowledgement of his birthday, if they ever remembered, was more of a joke than anything else. No one gave someone a wire hanger and meant it nicely. This snitch, though, wasn't a joke. It probably cost quite a bit. Why did he even buy it? He said he didn't hate him but that didn't mean he liked him, did it?

"Potter, would you care to join me for a game of chess?"

"What?"

"Chess, Potter. I believe it's time you were acquainted with the real rules of the game."

"I know how to play chess," Harry replied, mildly affronted.

Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry felt the colour rise to his cheeks, remembering when Snape had walked in on him playing his own version of the game.

"We're not doing potions today?"

"We can if you'd prefer."

"No, chess is good," Harry replied quickly. "I'm not very good at it though. Ron always wins when we play, he even beats Hermione."

"I must say I'm surprised that Weasley has a head for strategy."

"Yeah, well, he beat the giant chess set when we went to get the philosopher's stone. He even sacrificed himself to do it."

"That is very impressive for a first year."

"I guess there were three of us, so it was a bit easier to get past it."

Snape set up the board and laid his own pieces out. "Would you like to get yours or play with mine?"

"Um, yours. Mine don't like me much – they'd rather be Ron's." Snape nodded and finished laying all the pieces out. He gave himself the white pieces and gave Harry black.

"Forgive me if I don't name my pieces," Snape said, smirking.

"You ought to, sir, it's more fun," Harry replied, grinning.

Snape moved a pawn. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

"Um, I thought maybe I'd go and see Hagrid and say thanks for the fudge and then I guess I could go flying and take the snitch and practice for a bit," Harry considered, moving his own pawn.

"What would you usually do on your birthday?" Snape casually inquired.

"On my eleventh birthday I found out I was a wizard. That was the day Hagrid took me to diagon alley and we bought all my school stuff. For my thirteenth I got up at night and I opened my presents. I suppose that was the first time I started doing birthday stuff," Harry answered, suprising himself. If he'd been speaking to Remus he wouldn't have admitted that.

"The others?" Snape asked, studying the board for a moment before taking one of Harry's pawns.

"That one was Neville," Harry commented. Snape paused for a moment and Harry was sure he'd seen him smirk.

"I don't regret it in the slightest," Snape replied coolly before repeating his earlier question.

"Um, I didn't really do birthdays back then," Harry said, shrugging as he moved 'Seamus' one space forward.

"What was your reasoning behind that move?" Snape asked, looking at the board, perplexed.

"Dean and Seamus stick together, sir. That and you're going to take me if I move that one forwards."

"Your reasoning is flawed. Perhaps it was not you so much as your relatives," Snape replied. Harry frowned at Snape's attempt to continue the conversation.

"No," Harry replied, his face beginning to colour in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Snape looked supremely unconcerned, studying the board before drawling in a bored voice.

"Mr. Potter, I did meet them and you informed me that they gave you a used pair of socks and a hanger as a gift. It is your move."

Harry moved a piece, relieved that Snape wasn't making an issue out of it. He supposed based on what he said it was a logical assumption. "We don't get on, sir."

"Understandable."

Snape moved another piece. "We'll be dining in the Great Hall this afternoon."

"How come?"

"The headmaster thought you might appreciate it. Any member of the faculty staying in the castle will be there."

"He didn't need to do that for me," Harry muttered.

"Mr. Finnegan may well regret that move," Snape commented as Harry took one of his pieces.

"It was sacrificial, sir. I can't finish this game without taking any of your pieces. That would be embarrassing."

"It's not everyday that you turn fourteen," Snape said, returning once again to their previous conversation.

"It's no big deal, sir."

"I beg to differ, but no matter."

"I really like my snitch, sir," Harry said once again.

"I'm aware, Mr. Potter, but it is 'no big deal'."

---

After spending the majority of the afternoon with Hagrid he played with his practice snitch. It was great to finally have something to use when he went flying. He couldn't get into the school snitches so he'd just been practising his moves before, but now he could really practice playing. He played until he had absolutely had no time left and had to run back down to the dungeons to meet Snape.

"Get changed, Potter," Snape ordered from the doorway to his own room. Harry figured that he must have been brewing if he changed his robes. They were the same black robes he always wore, so it wasn't like he was dressing up for the occasion.

"What, why?"

"You've got grass stains all over you. You're not going to the hall like that."

"Oh. Fine, I'll be five minutes."

Harry threw himself into his room and got changed as quickly as possible before dashing out at the same speed.

When they reached the Great Hall Harry stopped to take in the sight. He'd never seen the Great Hall decorated for a birthday. There was only one table where the teachers were sat and hovering above it were five snitch shaped balloons and a large 'Happy Birthday Harry' banner. Harry's jaw dropped and he stopped in the doorway. He must have stopped for too long because Snape pushed him forwards slightly. "Just go sit down," he hissed quietly.

Harry was jolted back to his senses and he walked quickly towards the table and settled opposite Professor Flitwick.

"Hello, my boys. Happy birthday Harry!" Dumbledore called to them from a few seats down.

Harry turned to look at Snape who had taken a seat beside him and smirked at the fact that Dumbledore had referred them both in exactly the same way. "Thanks, sir."

There weren't many people in the castle. The only teachers at the table were Dumbledore, Flitwick, Sprout, Snape and Harry. Hagrid had been busy and seeing as Harry had seen him for lunch he couldn't begrudge him his absence. Professor Flitwick asked what Harry had got from his birthday.

"Um, I got some sweets from Ron, Hagrid made me some Fudge, Hermione got me a book and Professor Snape got me a snitch," Harry said, trying to remember if that was everything. "Oh, and Mrs. Weasley made me a cake."

"A snitch, Severus?" Professor Flitwick asked, obviously surprised.

Harry pulled it out of his pocket, not entirely sure why he hadn't left it behind.

"A practice snitch, even," Flitwick exclaimed. Snape didn't say anything but he looked irritated.

"Are they different?" Harry asked.

Professor Flitwick turned towards him. "There are slight differences in the charms on the two snitches. A practice snitch only works for one person and is attuned to their seeking style. It is used to improve your game."

"So it'll actually make me better? That's really cool."

"If you practice enough," Professor Flitwick nodded. "I'm surprised you're willing to improve the Gryffindor seeker's performance," he commented to Snape."

I am confident that Slytherin will continue to best Gryffindor no matter how much their game is improved."

"I suspect it's been nice to have the run of the castle," Professor Sprout chimed in.

"It's okay. I went to the beach on Saturday though, that was better," Harry responded, embarrassed to be the focus of attention, especially seeing as everyone around the table was one of his teachers.

"Ah, with Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, Professor Snape took me with him when he went to get some ingredients."

"Did he now?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Is there a reason we aren't eating, headmaster?" Snape said, changing the subject.

"We're waiting on Sybil, Severus."

"I didn't know you fetched your own ingredients, Severus. Does the school budget not cover them?" Professor Sprout asked.

"It was for a personal project," Snape replied coldly.

Harry noticed that Snape looked angry – angrier than he usually did in the company of other people, at least. Dumbledore looked almost smug at his discomfort and Harry couldn't help but think that Snape hadn't actually needed to go to the beach, they had stayed way longer than was necessary and Snape had only been summoning seaweed for about ten minutes. It was obvious that Snape didn't want people to know though, so he figured he should probably say something.

"We went to Cornwall to get seaweed."

"Enough, Potter," Snape hissed angrily.

"Seaweed, Severus?" Professor Flitwick asked and Dumbledore looked hard pressed to conceal his mirth. "I thought seaweed was used just for–"

"I've no doubt, Filius, that we could all learn from your expert potions knowledge. I wasn't aware that you continued the subject past O.W.L.," Severus said, throwing a harsh glare across the table.

Professor Flitwick fell silent. Harry glanced at Dumbledore who gave him a small smile. Well, if he wasn't sure before he was certain now. Snape had made up needing to go to the beach because Remus had to work. That was so... un-Snapeish. Harry didn't notice he was staring at the man until Professor Trelawney wandered in blathering on about her inner eye and Harry rolled both of his own.

"Oh, dear child, another birthday passed! I was crystal gazing–"

"No doubt, Sybil, but we'd all like to eat so perhaps we could order," Dumbledore interrupted, noticing that the look on Snape's face was murderous.

Order? Harry watched all the teachers pick up a card next to their plate, reading off the meal of their choice. Harry felt a bit self-conscious as he followed suit, seeing as everyone else had done it ten seconds earlier. The moment he had ordered the meal appeared on his plate and Harry began devouring it hungrily.

"Chew, Potter, it's not going anywhere," Snape said, giving him an almost disgusted look as he all but inhaled his meal. He could hardly help it if he was starving, could he? He'd been out flying all afternoon. Harry shot him an irritated look but tried to slow down his eating. It was a bit dull as all the teachers got absorbed into various conversations that didn't interest him in the slightest and Harry tried not to catch Professor Trelawney's eye in case she started predicting his death again.

"How are you getting on with your homework, Mr Potter?" Professor Flitwick asked once he'd finished his discussion with the headmaster. Harry had to choke down another massive bite of his food before he could reply, earning him another scowl from Snape who was steadfastly ignoring Professor Trelawney as she spoke at him.

"I'm all done."

"Already? That's marvellous. If you'd like me to look over it in the holidays you're quite welcome, Mr. Potter."

"That's okay, sir. Professor Snape's had a look for me." And he's mental if he thinks I'm doing another bloody draft, Harry finished silently.

S.S.

Severus' hand was itching to pull out his wand and silencio the idiotic woman sitting alongside him. She rarely dined with the rest of the faculty so why today of all days she decided to grace them all with her presence was beyond him and the woman just would not shut up!

Beside him, Potter choked on his treacle tart and the Headmaster shot him a reproving look. He must have said that last bit out loud... Perhaps he was more tired than he thought. At least the imbecilic woman had gone back to her food.

Potter yawned beside him and he needed no further encouragement to declare that it was time they returned to his quarters.

"Sir?"

"What, Potter?" Severus snarled as they walked through the dungeons.

"Nothing," came his rather sullen reply.

It was bad enough that Snape had to attend the damn meal. He lived with the boy, he ate dinner with him everyday, but they ridiculed him before there was even food on his plate. There was no doubt that the boy was suspicious, the way he kept looking at him was infuriating. As if he didn't know what potions seaweed was used in. He was the Potions Master in this school!

At least one thing had gone well that day. The boy had spoken to him and they'd broached the topic of his relatives quite successfully. Snape couldn't help but feel a small amount of smugness that he was the one talking to the boy about his relatives when the boy positively fled from the wolf and his godfather. They may not have gotten far but it was a step in the right direction.

 

S.S.

Severus Snape was at the end of his tether. Since that damned dinner the child wouldn't stop staring at him as though he were a puzzle he couldn't work out. If the child had something to say then he ought to spit it out.

"Stop. Now," Severus snapped across the dinner table as he dropped the boy's plate in front of him with an ominous clatter.

"I'm not doing anything!" Potter replied, utterly bemused.

"Go ahead, spit it out. I won't have this, Potter."

"What?"

"Either say what you want to say or take your dinner and get out. I won't have you gawping at me through dinner," Severus clarified. Perhaps the boy hadn't realised what he was doing, after all.

"Fine!" Potter exclaimed angrily. Then again… Severus thought inwardly, outwardly rolling his eyes. "I was going to ask if– and don't get mad– did you take me to the beach because you felt sorry for me?"

Severus stiffened and his eyes narrowed. "I did not."

"I know you weren't getting ingredients. I'm not stupid."

"You could have fooled me," he bit out before he could stop himself.

"Why is it okay for you to lie to me?" Potter threw at him accusingly, crossing his arms and retreating from his food as if it, too, had offended him.

"It isn't your place to question me!"

"It's obvious you're lying, and if you're lying about this then I don't see why I should believe you about anything," Potter said, raising his voice as his face coloured in anger. Severus stared back at him as the reasoning behind the child's anger clicked into place. He thought he'd dealt with the boy's insecurities about returning home.

Severus took a breath to calm himself. He'd rather not deal with the issue of the boy's relatives in anger. "I did not take you out of pity. I took you so that you would not stay indoors wallowing in disappointment."

"That sounds like pity, sir," he pointed out suspiciously.

"I do not care for your opinion or your tone," Severus replied dangerously. "You do not trust my word?"

"What?"

"Don't be dense. You said and I quote, 'I don't see why I should believe you about anything'. What were you trying to get at?" he asked, though he was fairly certain that he knew exactly what it was that the boy was questioning.

"I– Nothing." Severus' lips formed a thin line and the boy rethought his choice of words.

"I didn't think you were lying about it but I just don't–" The boy stumbled over his words, looking anywhere but at his teacher, as if he could somehow escape the conversation.

"Inform me what 'it' is, please," Severus interrupted coolly.

"Uh, notgoingbacktotheDursleys," the boy mumbled so quickly that Severus, despite knowing what he would say, could barely understand him. The boy reddened, although Severus wasn't sure whether he was embarrassed about the Dursleys or whether he'd get in trouble for doubting Severus.

"A coherent sentence this time," Severus ordered, knowing that he was making the conversation difficult for the child but wanting to talk about the issue properly seeing as he'd failed to allay the child's fears the last time.

"Not going back to the Dursleys, Professor," he repeated quietly, still avoiding his eyes.

"You think you're going to be sent back," he stated, leaning back in his seat.

"Yes." His eyes widened suddenly. "No! Sir, don't–" he stuttered, trying to cover his error.

"You don't trust my assurances on the subject."

"No, I do! I trust that you mean it and you believe it. I don't think you were lying…"

"But?"

"It's not up to you, sir. Look, Dumbledore changed his mind and had you take me away but he could just change it back. He hasn't said anything about it since that time in his office and he hasn't said anything about me staying somewhere else for good."

"You are not going back. Now that you are away from those people and we have been made aware of… certain things, your godfather, Lupin and I will not allow it."

There was silence as the boy processed what Severus revealed. "What things?" 

"Potter, I did see them with you. I was in that house before you were."

Potter's eyes widened and he visibly paled. "What things?" he repeated.

Severus stared calmly then spoke. "I witnessed your uncle shove you moments after you got in the house, and your aunt did not punish nor scold your cousin for hurting you. I saw your room, the bars, the locks and the catflap on the door. I heard your uncle when he took your trunk away." Severus could have stopped there, but he wanted him to realise that he understood his uncle's words perfectly. "I know about the cupboard."

"No." He wasn't sure if the boy was denying it or whether he just objected to him knowing about it.

"Potter–"

"No! You don't– there's nothing to–"

"Potter."

"I bet you loved finding out, I bet it was like Christmas come early for you," he snapped angrily, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face, and Severus found himself taken aback by Potter's abrupt rise of temper.

"POTTER," he shouted, causing Potter to stare back defiantly. "If I was happy to find out then I would not have a problem sending you back to that house and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Think for Merlin's sake."

Potter clamped his mouth firmly shut, avoiding Severus' gaze as if he realised how illogical that statement had been.

"Ridiculous boy," Severus muttered, knowing full well that the boy had reacted defensively.

"Don't call me that," he said quietly, still refusing to look at Severus. "Look, it wasn't this big deal…" he started.

"Is that why you are so very eager to return?" Severus asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We don't like each other. That's why I don't want to go back."

"How do you know they don't like you?" Severus asked.

"I've lived with them since I was one. I think I'd know if they liked me or not."

"Humour me."

"No. I'm done, sir," he said, pushing his plate further away and making to stand.

"Sit down."

"I don't want to talk about it!" 

"Then don't talk – listen. You will not go back." Severus spoke clearly and firmly. "It is out of the question. It is not just the headmaster's decision and we know enough that you cannot live with those people. I do not care that you dislike that fact, and I do not care that you did not want me to know. It is done and you are not going back."

The boy stared back in silence before standing. "I'm done eating, Professor."

"Go," Severus relented.

H.P.

Harry paced his room agitatedly. That conversation hadn't gone as it was supposed to; one minute they were talking about that beach trip and the next they were arguing about the Dursleys. He knew Snape had been there at his aunt and uncle's house, sort of. But he'd just appeared out of nowhere and it had all happened so quickly. He'd just assumed that Snape had apparated in to get him; he didn't think he'd lurked around taking in the scenery!

It was reassuring in a way that Snape was so adamant that he wasn't going back to the Dursleys, and if Remus and Sirius agreed then he supposed that maybe Snape was right. It was fairly obvious now where Remus had gotten his ridiculous notion that he was being mistreated though. Snape had obviously filled him in on what he'd seen… Still, it's not like he needed Remus feeling sorry for him and what right did Snape have to tell Remus anything? It wasn't his business, and who else was Snape going to tell?

Harry went back out to the living room to find Snape staring into the fire, occupied by his thoughts. It was unusual to see Snape brooding and without something to read.

"I believe we discussed the staring, Potter." Harry hadn't realised that Snape knew he was there and jumped. He steeled himself to go for it and say what was on his mind before Snape could do anything else.

"You shouldn't have told Remus."

"Perhaps. It seemed like the most appropriate course of action at the time," Snape replied without taking his eyes from the flickering flames.

Harry was surprised that Snape conceded that he may not have been right and frowned. Snape continued, obviously not seeing his expression. "It was up to me to judge what was the best course of action with your situation."

"There's no situation, sir," Harry ground out, frustrated.

"You can try to downplay it to me, Harry, but you and I both know that it is a 'big deal'," Snape replied calmly, his eyes finally leaving the fire to rest on Harry.

Since when does he call him Harry?

"Potter, if you do not desist with this ridiculous staring problem you seem to have developed, I'll spell your eyes shut." Harry did as he was told, though he was fairly certain he wasn't being entirely serious.

---

Harry couldn't help but pay more attention to Snape's behaviour over the next few days. He knew about the Dursleys but he didn't treat him any differently because of it. He'd definitely been his usual short-tempered self since he'd moved in. Snape definitely saw him differently in general now but was that because he felt sorry for him or because he'd gotten to know him better like he'd said?

"Potter, do you think I have nothing better to do than clean up after you?" Snape snapped from behind him as Harry put away his broom. Well, he definitely wasn't tiptoeing around him...

"No, Professor," he replied. Snape was being all right about it, really. He wasn't acting all weird like Remus was.

He was going out with Remus tomorrow. Hopefully he'd see Sirius too. He hadn't replied to his last letter and maybe he had been too harsh, but he wished people would recognise that he could look after himself. He didn't need Sirius telling him not to trust Snape all the time. Then again, if he was in Sirius' place and Snape was like Malfoy maybe he'd have a problem with it too. 

"Tidy up, now. Don't make me think twice about letting those damned Gryffindors visit here next week."

"They're coming? I'm allowed to have them over?" Harry said, almost not daring to believe it. Snape didn't look too thrilled about it and scowled darkly.

"The headmaster thought it would do you good."

Harry beamed. Finally, Ron and Hermione were coming over! There was nothing that could ruin his good mood now.

S.S.

Severus was apprehensive to say the least about the rest of the Gryffindor dream team traipsing around the castle under his care. He had not the slightest inclination to be the minder of the infuriating trio but the headmaster had been insistent, talking about how the boy would certainly need cheering up. If Severus was a less cynical man he'd still think the man was feeling guilty about Potter.

At least the boy appreciated the gesture, but maybe he should have waited to tell him in case the damned wolf let the boy down again this week.

Potter wasn't as excited by half this time. Severus assumed that part of him thought he'd be let down again and didn't want to get his hopes up. The boy in question wandered out of his bedroom and threw himself on the sofa opposite Severus.

"Sir, look, multiple socks," Potter grinned, holding out three pairs of socks as he shrugged on his winter coat.

"At least I can be sure something I've said has penetrated your thick skull," Severus commented, looking over that morning's paper to check the boy had brought everything he needed. "You don't need the coat now. Put it on when you get there."

The boy shot him an unreadable look before taking the coat off. A moment later the wolf stepped out of the fire, smiling widely at the child.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

The boy shot a look at Severus as if to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and Severus found himself nodding.

"Yeah, I've got everything," he replied standing up.

"I'll have him back here in one piece, Severus," Lupin joked lightly, causing Severus to scowl. He wasn't certain that was true after the amount of times the boy returned to his quarters less happy than when he left.

H.P.

The moment Harry got to his feet after tumbling from the floo, he was greeted by Sirius. Harry grinned up at his godfather, checking to make sure he wasn't angry with him.

"Morning," his godfather grinned easily back.

"I thought Dumbledore said you couldn't stay here?" Harry said, though his tone showed that he was glad that Sirius hadn't listened.

"Yeah, he did. I'm not staying though, just stopping by to see my godson," he said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, right. Cool."

"It's all right, Harry. He's not going to be here long, and we're off out anyway," Remus said, brushing soot off of his cloak.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, nodding slightly. He looked down at Harry's arms, noticing the heavy coat, and pulled it out of his grasp. "Nice coat," Sirius commented appreciatively, holding it up to look at.

"Professor Snape got it for me." Seeing his godfather falter slightly and scowl, he regretted his easy reply.

"He gave it to you?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"He said that he forgot it when we got everything else, so he got it for today."

"Did he pay for it?"

"Um." Did he? He didn't say that he didn't, so would he have just taken more money from the school? Can he just get money for whatever? "I don't know."

Sirius sent a look Remus' way that Harry didn't understand, but it was clear that he wasn't happy. Harry looked awkwardly between them until Remus cleared his throat and suggested they all catch up in the living room.

It was obvious that it was still playing on Sirius' mind but he was clearly trying hard to get past it for his sake. He spent an enjoyable morning with Remus and his godfather, listening to Sirius crack jokes that were occasionally interspersed with disparaging comments about Snape, as if he was trying to make a point. He wasn't surprised that when he was due to leave with Remus, Sirius pulled him to one side.

"Harry, look, don't take things from Snape." Harry wasn't sure whether he looked so uncomfortable because he knew Remus would object to him talking about it or because after Harry's letter he was uncomfortable talking with him about Snape.

"What?"

"Just don't accept things from him; he's your teacher. If you need something then come to me."

"I didn't ask for the coat. I didn't know I needed it," Harry replied defensively.

"I'm just saying that you can come to me if you need anything. That's all, all right? I'm your godfather, it's my job."

"Right," Harry answered glumly. "Sorry." He wasn't entirely sure why he was apologizing but he felt guilty for upsetting Sirius. He didn't need anything any more though, so it wouldn't be a problem, and it's not as if he hadn't been looking after himself until now. Why was everybody suddenly so concerned that he had everything he needed? He'd managed to get by until now, hadn't he?

"Look, I'll be here when you get back. Just have a good time."

"I thought you weren't going to stay?"

"Something's come up. I'll see you later," he said, leading Harry to Remus' study by the shoulder and earning an exasperated glare from Remus.

---

Remus passed Harry the skates. They were bigger and heavier than he'd thought they'd be and it took him a while to do them up. He stood, testing his balance on the foamy floor. He looked over at Remus and saw that he wasn't wearing any skates and Harry frowned.

"Well, go on then," Remus said, gesturing kindly towards the rink. He had no intention of joining him on the ice. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of adults out there. If he'd known Remus wasn't going to do it too then he wouldn't have asked to come.

If Snape had taken him then he probably wouldn't have come out either… Why was he even thinking about Snape taking him ice skating?

Harry still enjoyed himself despite the fact that Remus stayed at the sides to watch him. He fell a few times but managed to laugh it off. After five minutes he could support himself without the use of the wall and he spent a good hour skating around the edge of the rink. Remus hadn't gotten him big enough shoes to use all of his socks, so he'd only put one extra pair on and after the hour his feet were feeling decidedly painful, but he had no intention of letting a bit of pain ruin one of the only proper days out he'd ever had.

He dodged quickly around a couple holding hands and overbalanced, landing hard on the rink edge. He'd taken worse tumbles in the past and shook himself before attempting to pull himself up with the aid of the wall.

"You all right there, Harry?" Remus asked leaning over the edge of the wall to help him up.

"I went a bit fast," Harry said, grinning as he geared up to go just as fast again the whole way round. His back hurt a lot but he figured the pain would disappear in a bit. Everyone on the rink had a bit of a fall at some point, though they were usually with someone to help them out.

Harry looked around at the people on the ice as he zoomed past, and pretty much everyone had come with at least someone else. If Remus hadn't wanted to go with him, then why didn't he say something? He must've been bored this last hour and Harry would have done pretty much anything else.

They didn't spend as long in London as Harry would have liked, but he did want to see his godfather before he went back to Snape, so he didn't mind the day being cut short. Besides, it wasn't like he could do everything he wanted in one day anyway. There's just so much to see in London.

The London Eye was nothing compared to being on a broom so the height wasn't all that interesting and it was so slow. Remus had winced at the price but Harry didn't have any muggle money and he wouldn't hear of it when Harry tried to say he wasn't fussed. He'd only been in his job a week though so it was a lot of money, but he knew well enough from Snape that he'd likely not be keen on arguing about the price in public.

He watched Remus out of the corner of his eye and he did look quite tired. They hadn't been out that long though, maybe he was working too hard or was it close to the full moon?

"Hey! How was it?" Sirius greeted them as soon as they returned.

"It was great. Thanks Remus," Harry said.

"You're welcome." He followed Sirius into the living room and dropped onto the sofa beside him with an exhausted groan. Harry followed suit and sat too. It was a relief – his feet were killing him.

"So fill me in, then. What did I miss?" Sirius asked.

Harry left no detail out and by the time he was done, Remus was dozing lightly.

"He's all right," Sirius said quietly when Harry cast a worried glance at Remus. "He's always tired right after the full moon; he used to fall asleep in class sometimes."

Harry laughed. "I'd never be able to get away with that, Snape'd go mental."

Sirius snorted. "You know Snivellus was a right greasy oddball in school. And he was really into the dark arts." Harry didn't miss the pointed look. "We hated the dark arts; your father was dead against them and Snape." He couldn't help but wonder how dense Sirius thought he was. He knew his dad and Snape were rivals. He hadn't known for certain that Snape had been into the dark arts though but... Well, he had assumed as much seeing as he was a Slytherin. "James was great fun for giving him what he deserved," Sirius said, smiling as he reminisced.

Something about his wording made Harry frown. "What?"

"Snape and James were always fighting, not that Snivellus had anything on James. The things we used to do to him… Do you remember that time down the charms corridor?" Sirius directed the question at Remus, who blinked blearily. 

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"We waited until Snivellus was coming down the corridor," Sirius started, evidently under the impression that he was giving Harry some huge treat by telling this story. "His giant greasy nose stuck in some dark arts book. James used a tripping hex and Snape, I'm not joking, went flying into the girls bathroom," Sirius said, with barely repressed mirth.

"He doesn't need to hear those kinds of stories," Remus admonished.

"What did he do?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well, he was pretty mad about it. He tried to send a cutting hex at James but I disarmed him, so it was all good."

"No, I meant before that. Before you hexed him," Harry clarified, trying to avoid thinking about what it would mean if he didn't get the response he wanted.

"Nothing more Snape-ish than usual, though I swear his hair got even more greasy than usual that year."

S.S.

"Go AWAY," Potter's shout rang through his quarters punctuated by the slamming of a door, and Severus strode out of his own rooms to see the dog looking distraught.

"Black, get out!" Severus said.

"He's my godson and he needs me. I've a right to be here."

"Then why was he screaming bloody murder for you to leave him alone?" Severus snarled angrily. "OUT." He levelled his wand at Black's throat. "These are my quarters and Potter won't be leaving them to see you again if you do not get out, now."

Black looked as if he was about to argue but the wolf's timely appearance seemed to bring him to his senses.

"Come on, Sirius. He won't talk to you now. Let him cool off."

Severus watched them leave with narrowed eyes, wondering if it was worth it to ward the floo against them when a steady banging followed by strangled oaths began coming from the boy's room.

H.P.

Harry swore loudly each time his fist hit the desk, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm with each blow. They were supposed to be the good ones. Snape was supposed to be the bad one! Everyone lied, they lied. How could his father be good? He was no better than Dudley and his gang, four against one! No good bloody cowards.

Someone grab his arm, stopping his fist before he could smash it into the desk again and Harry spun around in their grip, ready to lash out, only to be met by familiar black robes.

S.S.

He'd been ready for Potter to attempt to hit him when he spun round fist raised, but instead, the boy had ended up latching onto his robes with his free hand. Severus wasn't exactly sure what to do; he'd never had a distraught teenager clinging onto him him before. Potter made no attempt to pull his arm out of Severus' grasp and the boy's fist was starting to bruise and swell. He may have fractured one or more of the bones in his hand.

"Potter?"

"No, no, no," Potter yelled angrily, taking harsh shuddering breaths. "You were right," he gulped. "You were right. Every– everyone said he was good!" He ground out through gritted teeth, dropping his head.

Severus said nothing, standing completely still as Potter gulped noisily, taking deep breath shuddering breaths. The fourteen-year-old boy was holding onto him for some sort of comfort, his head resting lightly against his chest.

"I hate him– them," Potter said, with more than a little venom.

"What happened, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked. What had Black done? If he'd laid a hand on the boy, he'd regret ever breaking out of that prison.

"S-Sirius said– he told me about you. He was laughing, he said they– my dad made sure you got what you deserved," Potter was so angry he was struggling to speak clearly but Severus could make out enough to understand him and his grip on the boy's arm tightened. Potter's head shot up and he shoved against Severus not realising he was only pushing himself back.

"I bet you're thrilled. You were right, he was horrible. You wanted me to find out! N-no one else told me."

"I'm not thrilled, Potter."

"You kept telling me! You wanted me to know."

"I did not think that your father's behaviour would upset you. I believed that you were very much similar."

"I'M NOT." 

"I know, Mr. Potter, but I do not require your self righteous anger on my behalf."

"It's not just for you. You're not the only one who–" Potter cleared his throat and dropped his head again, most likely to hide his embarrassment, and Severus' eyes widened a fraction. He should have realised sooner, knowing the kind of family the boy had come from. A child wearing his cousin's over-sized cast offs wasn't likely to go unnoticed. Children could be remarkably cruel.

"When I was younger, my cousin and his gang, they had this game." Severus didn't want to hear anything about this 'game' of Potter's cousin. He knew Potter, with his Gryffindor sensibilities, was trying to even out hearing about Severus' humiliation, but he didn't need him to speak, nor did he want to stop him talking now that he was opening up willingly about his home life, especially after their last discussion.

"They, er, used to call it Harry-Hunting," Potter muttered, clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment.

Severus' hand seemed to reach up of his own accord and rest on the back of Potter's head.

H.P.

He had felt a swelling rage as he stood in the middle of his bedroom but at the feel of Snape's hand on the back of his head he felt for the first time close to tears.

"It's the same," he said slightly louder, trying to get over the shame and he felt Snape increased the pressure of his hand marginally. "Four against one, it's not right." Harry shut his eyes, ignoring the fact that he'd somehow managed to be holding rather pathetically onto his Potions Master, but then Snape was letting him and he was holding him back.

"Be under no illusions, Potter. I gave as good as I got."

Harry didn't reply and Snape didn't push him away so Harry shut his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being held, breathing deeply in and out.

"I'm sorry about my dad, sir."

"As am I. I would suggest that you speak to Lupin and your godfather–"

"No! They don't understand."

"No, I don't suppose they do. I would suggest that your godfather's attitude stems from believing that you are very much like your father and that you would share his humour."

"There's nothing funny about it."

"I'm aware of that fact. I cannot sing your father's praises–"

"I don't want you to!"

"Potter, I cannot and will not sing your father's praises but others may be able to give you a more… well rounded view of him. It would not be healthy for you to judge him based solely on his treatment of me."

"It was four against one, sir," he replied incredulously as if Snape wouldn't have been able to fight back against those odds.

"Perhaps I am simply an exceptional wizard, Potter."

Harry snorted. "I'm a really fast runner."

"A worthwhile skill."

Snape drew the arm that he'd been holding closer for inspection. He didn't know if Snape realised it, but his teacher's other hand was moving in a soothing gesture through his hair. "You may have fractured one of the bones on your hand," he commented, summoning the same salve he'd put on Harry's head a few weeks previously. "Sit," he ordered, indicating the desk chair.

Harry relinquished his grip on Snape's robes and sat, his face flushing, now that he couldn't hide. He winced as Snape put the salve on his hand.

S.S.

The salve was fast working, the swelling of the boy's fingers already reducing and Potter didn't seem to be in too much discomfort. "Stretch your fingers out." The boy complied quite easily and Severus waved his wand quickly to deduce whether there was any damage. "No fractures. You were lucky."

Potter was silent for a few moments before replying.

"Thanks, sir."

"Unnecessary. A suitable thanks would be for you not to attack my furniture."

"Oh, I didn't mean. Well, I am grateful, but I meant thanks for not going off on one about my dad. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did."

Severus didn't quite know what to say and settled for nodding as the child continued.

"Sir?" the boy started, unusually hesitant, looking up at him uncertainly. "I was thinking that, um, maybe it would be good if you called me Harry."

"Harry?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah. It's not because I'm mad at my dad. I mean, I am, but you're right that I should talk to Remus and Sirius. I'm not ungrateful. I know he died for me."

"There is no need to justify your anger to me; you have suffered a severe disappointment."

"Right. It's just that I know you didn't like him and I get why. I don't want you to think of me like you think of him."

"I have already told you that I do not think of you as your father."

"But I didn't really get what that meant. I thought you didn't hate me any more."

"I do not hate you. I believe we covered that before as well."

"Fine, you just don't want to! Whatever, I don't care," the boy exclaimed, obviously frustrated and embarrassed further.

What bothered Severus was that quite the contrary, the boy clearly did. Their relationship was changing somewhat and he could either halt it's progress and maintain his distance or, well, he could call him Harry.

"I did not say that I didn't want to. I was merely contradicting your flawed reasoning."

"Fine."

He called Draco by his first name outside of class. It didn't have to mean anything, and he had asked...

"Cease sulking, Harry."

S.S.

Severus sat in his usual armchair surrounded by his notes and stared contemplatively into the fire. He was loathe to send the boy back to Lupin or that imbecilic dog he called his godfather, not by himself at least. The boy was obviously deeply disappointed, not to mention angry, and the child had a temper like his mother. There was every chance that leaving them to their own devices could cause them to alienate him further.

It was strange to imagine that he'd been attempting to console Harry Potter over the behaviour of his father. He'd never anticipated that kind of reaction from the child. He should have expected that the boy had been bullied by his cousin. It was obvious even in that short time he'd seen him with his family that the boy could quite easily get away with physically hurting Harry, and he'd even seemed to expect it. The very fact that he did not fight back or complain, that was incredibly out of character for the young Gryffindor.

Harry. Severus mulled the name over. Could it have been a mistake to agree to that? Need it be that significant? The child merely wanted to ensure that he wasn't seen as his father and that wasn't a terrible reason to change how he addressed him, not in the circumstances, and the child's temper did need to be appeased, if only to prevent him doing himself more damage.

The issue of Lupin and his godfather could be put to one side for the moment. He would not be seeing them again until Severus had a word with them. It was one time too many that he'd seen the boy come back less than impressed from his time with them. What did they think the boy was coming to them for? How difficult was it for them to keep the boy entertained for a few hours? It didn't take much to keep him happy; he had been thrilled at the beach, even left to his own devices.

The boy's blasted sidekicks coming to the castle was not what he wanted. Having to be in charge of another two Gryffindors was well above and beyond the call of duty. It would not be a good idea to let them know that he and the boy were on somewhat better terms. Any chance of him going back to spying when the time came would be blown out of the water if he was seen to be friendly with the child and that was not something they could afford.

The Dark Lord certainly would rise again, and it seemed that the day was getting nearer and nearer ever since that blasted rat escaped. He would go back into his service for Lily; he owed her that much for what he did. Had he known that the prophecy could mean her...

Severus shook himself from the dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him and glanced over to the boy's room, where the door had been left ajar. He'd not come out after Severus had healed him and  he ought to check on him.

At least he had news that would put him in a better frame of mind. He didn't want the boy wallowing in misery until the situation was remedied.

"Your friends will arrive at the castle in two days," he said, leaning against the door frame. Harry looked up from his quidditch magazine grinning widely at the news.

"I know. Ron told me when they were coming in his letter," he replied, nodding towards his desk where the letter in question lay.

"There will be rules for when they arrive. I will not have you three running amok in my quarters or under my care." Harry gave him a look that said 'when have I ever 'run amok?' "That cloak of yours is to stay away, is that clear?" Severus said firmly in answer to Harry's look. "I will not have you disregarding my rules as you three do with those of the school."

"I won't. And I don't disregard school rules," Harry replied indignantly. "Well, not much and only if I have to," he amended with a shrug.

"I believe we covered the fact that you never had to do any of those ridiculously dangerous stunts you pulled. Nevertheless, you will not feel any need to break my rules while your guests are here."

"I wasn't going to, and I never broke you rules on purpose."

Severus inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. "You have been better behaved than I expected. Regarding what we discussed earlier, I will not be referring to you by your given name in front of your friends. I do not wish them to believe that my opinion towards you has changed," Severus said, judging that it would be far better for him to be warned in advance, rather than spring it on him just before his friends arrived. He'd need time to adjust to the idea; Gryffindors had no Slytherin subtlety.

"Why not?" the boy asked abruptly, interrupting Severus' train of thought.

Severus sent him a hard look. "I have a reputation to uphold. It is of vital importance that as few people as possible are aware that I am anything other than your least favourite teacher," he said, only to be met with a furious glare.

"Fine, sir," Harry replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm on the 'Sir', making to climb off his bed. He grabbed his pyjamas from his cupboard and went into the adjacent bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Attitude, Potter," Severus yelled, sneering to himself as he realised what he'd said. It was a surprisingly hard habit to break. Potter came rather more automatically than Harry...

"What do you think you're doing?" he questioned as soon as the now pyjama-clad boy reappeared from the bathroom.

"Going to bed, sir," was the short reply he received as Harry pulled up the covers and flicked his wand to get the lights to turn off.

"Po- It is eight o'clock."

"I'm not allowed to go to bed?" Harry bit out angrily, sitting back up.

Severus had had enough for one day and shut the door with a snap. Perhaps the boy was tired. He had been out all day and was more than likely emotionally exhausted as well. Perhaps his attitude would improve by morning. He had thought that the boy would be more mature about the situation; it was hardly as if he was going back on his word.

H.P.

Harry scowled darkly at the door as Snape slammed it shut. He couldn't believe it. He thought that they were getting on! Snape was being, well, sort of decent. He was listening to him, he'd stopped insulting him all the time, he took him to the beach, and he even he bought him a birthday present for Merlin's sake! But then maybe this explains his behaviour at his birthday meal. He obviously didn't want anyone to know that they'd been getting on because he was ashamed of him or something.

If he hated the idea of people associating them with each other then why'd he even bother being nicer to him in the first place? And where did Snape get off being ashamed of him? And why did he have to say this today when everything had gone wrong?

Harry threw the covers over his head, ignoring the pain in his shoulder from earlier in the day. Going to the ice rink seemed so long ago now. At least his friends would be here soon.

---

The next day it was potions again first thing and Harry dragged himself out of bed, not at all looking forward to the day ahead.

He sat himself down at the table silently, not looking at Snape, and determining to eat his food as quickly as possible. Harry shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, all the while considering how Snape was such a gigantic hypocrite. If he thought the way he had been treating him in the past was so wrong then why didn't he want people to know that things had changed? And if he didn't want people to know that they were getting on better then how would he act in class? 

It didn't make any sense! Snape wasn't just being decent to him, he damn near gave him a hug hours before he'd gone and said that. Maybe he regretted it though, maybe he thought Harry had been too clingy and now he didn't want some whiny kid trailing around after him… Harry flushed with embarrassment. No wonder Snape didn't want to be friendly with him in front of people, he probably thought he was going to embarrass him.

He really didn't want to spend the day with Snape or do his potions class, but he couldn't risk giving Snape an opportunity to stop his friends from coming up, not now that he didn't have anyone all over again. He couldn't decide whether he was more angry at Snape or angry at himself.

It turned out that he was both and Snape did not appreciate him taking it out on his ingredients.

"Stop mutilating your flobberworms. What an utter waste of potions ingredients," Snape snarled, casting an evanesco over Harry's desk where flobberworm slices littered the table. "Are you under the impression that I have unlimited stocks for you to destroy?"

"No."

"Start over," Snape ordered. Harry couldn't help but notice that he hadn't called him by his name all day. He hadn't called him Potter either, but it was like he was trying to avoid saying it at all. "You remember where the cupboard is, yes?" Snape questioned sarcastically when Harry didn't move. Harry threw him a dark glare, stalking angrily past him to get to the store cupboard.

The flobberworms were on a high level for Harry. No doubt for Snape it was easy enough to reach, but Harry was short for his age. He went on his toes trying to get as high as possible and stretched his hand up as far as it would go, forgetting that he'd hurt his shoulder until he felt a searing pain that had him automatically yanking his arm back down to his side, making him lose his balance and fall hard enough onto the shelves for them to wobble precariously.

He breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't knocked the whole lot of them over, only realising that he'd unseated some of the jars higher up as the shelf righted itself. A heavy jar of flobberworms smashed onto the floor, narrowly missing his head. Someone firmly gripped his shoulder and pulled him backwards just as three more glass jars followed.

The pain flared yet again and Harry couldn't help but yelp, twisting roughly out of Snape's grasp. His teacher's eyes narrowed but he didn't comment. "What did you think you were doing?" 

"I was getting the flobberworms like you said," Harry replied defensively, his hand automatically going to his shoulder. Did Snape have to grab him so hard? Snape was watching him intently and he quickly dropped his hand back to his side.

"Come here," Snape ordered, pulling out his wand.

"What? No, I'm fine."

"I'd like to check if you need healing. Come here."

"I don't need anything, I'm fine," he insisted, holding up his hands.

"I will not ask you again," Snape said, his voice threatening and Harry stepped back, attempting to put more distance between them. He bumping into another set of shelves and Snape grabbed him yet again, pulling him clear of the cupboard and away from anything that had the potential to fall on his head.

"I have had enough of your attitude, Harry!" He let go of him as if burned when he realised he'd grabbed the same shoulder yet again and Harry was wincing slightly in pain. "Stand still."

"No," Harry protested, stepping back. He didn't want Snape to heal him and he knew he'd insist that he had to, especially when he saw the size of the bruise over his back and shoulder where he'd collided with the wall the day before. He didn't want Snape's help. He didn't need it, but he especially didn't want anything from him if he was too ashamed of him to be decent to him in front of other people. "I don't want your help."

"I was under the impression that you wanted to see your friends tomorrow. Evidently I was mistaken," Snape growled.

Harry stared defiantly back at him and Snape thrust his wand away. "I shall notify their parents immediately."

What a manipulative Slytherin, using his friends against him. "Don't. All right, okay? You can look."

"How did you get this?" Snape asked angrily when he saw the extent of the bruising.

"I fell over."

"You didn't think to inform me that you're hurt?"

"No, I had other stuff going on didn't I?" Harry bit out, irritated.

Apparently Snape really had had enough because he lowered himself to Harry's level, holding his chin in his hand so that he had no choice but to face him and while holding his gaze, said slowly, "I've been exceptionally patient with you. I'm on the verge of losing my patience and you do not want me to lose my patience, Potter."

"Harry," he found himself insisting, suddenly caring a great deal what his potions professor called him.

"Perhaps that was a mistake considering your attitude since I agreed to your request," Snape said coldly.

"That has nothing to do with it. You've done everything you can not to say my name since."

Snape pulled back. "You've lost your free time today. Do not take that tone with me." Snape seemed to take a moment to think before speaking again. "This behaviour stops now. If that is not the cause of your behaviour then tell me what is."

Why is he standing there trying to sort this out? Why doesn't he just go back to the Snape who'd threaten and punish him to get him to behave?

"No, stop it. Stop being like this if it's not real."

"Kindly explain that in understandable terms," Snape said, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"This," Harry said, gesturing between them. "Looking after me stuff."

Snape stared at him for a moment and Harry got the impression he was trying to replay the conversation to figure out what Harry had meant in the first place. After a moment he frowned. "You are upset because you think my interest in taking care of you is insincere," he stated as if it was the most ridiculous conclusion for him to have come to.

Harry stared back at him. "You pretty much said so yesterday."

"I did not. From where did your idiotic head get that from?"

"Because you said, well, you said that you had a reputation to uphold so you didn't want people to think that you liked me. It makes sense the way you got angry at my birthday thing if you're ashamed of me–"

"I am not ashamed of you, you foolish boy," Snape interrupted, looking appalled.

"Don't call me that! And you did say that."

"Harry, that was not what I meant." He paused as if thinking before turning back to Harry. "My reputation is very important and for certain eyes it must remain the same. It does not mean that I am insincere in my actions; it merely means that in front of certain people I must act according to a role I must play."

"That's the same. Your reputation is important to you and you think I'll ruin it. Is it because of yesterday? I'm not normally like that." Harry didn't realise he was rambling until he was cut off by Snape.

"Harry, I cannot explain." He put up a hand to stop Harry interrupting him before continuing. "Necessity dictates that I put my reputation before you but if I had a choice I would not."

Harry knew that it was something for Snape to come out with that. He'd expected him to say something about not having a choice about whether to look after him, and all that guardian stuff he'd been going on about before. He broke the silence, which was starting to become awkward as neither spoke. "What necessity?"

"I cannot tell you, so I need you to trust me," Snape said firmly.

"Why can't you tell me?" 

"Do not push me. I will not explain." Snape's tone was final and Harry knew that he'd either have to take him at his word or take him to be a liar. Snape was stubborn enough to give him nothing. He was probably lucky to have gotten this much out of him.

Harry sighed. "I do trust you. You've saved my life before; I haven't forgotten."

"I'm not asking you if you trust me with your life, I'm asking you to trust my word."

"I do."

Snape summoned some salve which zoomed in from his office. "Stand still." Snape held him firmly in place as he put the salve on his shoulder as if he didn't trust that Harry wouldn't pull away again. "I take it you have no more injuries?" he asked looking down at him suspiciously.

"Um, not injured, no," Harry answered, looking away from Snape. He definitely felt less like he was lying when he said it like that, though apparently Snape didn't feel the same way.

S.S.

Why did the idiotic boy insist on making such a simple issue so difficult.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing. My feet just hurt a bit, that's all. I said I wasn't injured," the boy replied, irritatingly downplaying everything as usual.

"Would this be due to your trip to the ice rink?" Severus asked, barely suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

"I suppose," the boy shrugged.

"Did you take my advice?"

"I meant to. I brought the socks, didn't I? I couldn't fit them all on."

"You need bigger shoes. It's common sense, Pot- Harry."

"Yeah, but Remus queued for them and I didn't want to make him do it again." Severus' eyes narrowed at the mention of Lupin. How difficult is it for these fools to keep the boy uninjured for the few hours they have him?

"How did you get the bruise on your back?" Severus asked, though he was sure that he knew the answer to that already.

"I fell, like I said earlier."

"Manners, Pot- Harry," Severus growled. "Where did you fall?"

"On the ice, sir. I sort of hit the wall. It's not a big deal – everyone was falling over."

"Where was Lupin?"

"He was watching me from the seats at the edge."

"So the wolf saw you hit the side?" Severus clarified. Clearly he wasn't doing well to keep the irritation out of his voice as the boy was looking even more uncomfortable.

"Look it's not a big thing and I came off the ice right after."

"Then he brought you back?"

"No, then we went to London."

"He offered to heal you?"

"No, but–"

Severus cut Harry off with a furious glare. Oh, he'd be having a word with those two before the boy got within a mile of them. Apparently no one is capable of looking after the child.

"You're mad," Harry stated, obviously picking up on his anger at the wolf.

Severus tried to put his anger at the wolf to one side. "If Lupin failed to heal you then you should have come to me. Seeing as this isn't obvious to you then you can regard it as a new rule. You are obliged to inform me if you are suffering from pain or illness."

"It wasn't that bad…"

"Would I be right in assuming it to be part of the reason that I've lost even more of my supplies?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean for them to fall."

Severus inclined his head. He hadn't meant for the boy to regard his statement as scolding for damaging his stocks; he had been attempting to make a point, but it was enough that the boy was conceding that he was right. It wasn't remotely worth another argument.

---

H.P.

"You understand that when your friends are here I will be treating you differently?" Snape said over dinner that evening.

"Yeah, you're going to be like you used to be," Harry said shrugging. He didn't particularly like it but he could deal with it.

"Stay out of my sight and it need not be too much of an issue. How much have you already discussed with your friends?"

"Umm." He didn't want to say that he spent a lot of his time moaning before, but Ron and Hermione could sympathise and Snape had been really horrible.

"I presume it should be fairly simple to keep them thinking that I have not changed my view of you?" Snape said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, ducking his head down.

"For future reference I would prefer it if you make any mention of me in keeping with my reputation. Although, at present, I shouldn't imagine that will be too difficult."

"Um, sorry sir."

Snape sent him an irritated glare that quite clearly said 'shut up' and so Harry fell silent.

"You will return here to eat lunch and dinner with your two guests. Otherwise feel free to spend the day outside my quarters," Severus said, leaving no room for Harry to misunderstand his wishes.

S.S.

The boy was more than excited at the prospect of seeing his friends and although Severus did not relish the idea of having his space invaded by more Gryffindors, at least he was somewhat more cheerful since his falling out with his godfather.

He did not know what to do for the boy. He could not and would not make excuses for Black and Potter. As far as he was concerned they did not deserve it, even if it would cheer Harry up. 

The scene the day before gave him more to think about. To think that the child was idiotic enough to believe that Severus was ashamed of him! How could he have thought the boy arrogant? The child had obviously been angry and upset but he still tried to win back some favour, which was a disturbing thought. He did not think that the child would feel that vulnerable, and why would he want his favour so badly? Perhaps his argument with Black has left him feeling desperate enough that he feared losing what small relationship they had cultivated.

He would have to speak to the two dogs soon, before Saturday when the boy would visit them again. Those imbeciles obviously needed to be told how to look after a child.

Snape watched the fireplace with narrowed eyes. The Gryffindors were due to come through any second and he intended to let them know, in no uncertain terms, that misbehaviour was not an option. The moment the floo flared to life Harry was out of his seat like a shot.

"Ron!"

"Hey, it's good to see you mate. Where's er," the Weasley boy caught Severus' eye and fell silent.

Granger soon followed out of the fireplace getting overly sentimental and drowning the boy in a hug. They'd only been apart for a matter of weeks.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." Severus nodded coldly to both when the girl had relinquished her grasp on Harry. "It is my unfortunate task to look after the pair of you while you visit Potter. You will follow the rules or you will suffer the consequences. If Potter can follow them then I expect the two of you to have sufficient brain cells to do so as well," Severus said with a sneer. He noticed that Granger looked particularly unhappy about the sleight against her intelligence and smirked nastily.

"You have permission to be in this room, the kitchen and Potter's room only within my quarters. If you choose to roam the castle you must inform me via a note where you are going, and this means that where you are going must be within bounds. You will come back here for lunch and dinner."

H.P.

Snape was being all right so far but then again Ron and Hermione had only just arrived he had plenty of time to cut them all down to size for the rest of the day. Maybe he was just waiting for them to give him a reason… Anyway it would probably be best to get out of there.

"Uh sir, I think we're going to go ou–"

"I said in a note, Potter, or is following a simple instruction too difficult for the boy-who-lived?" Snape scathed and with that he swept out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. He said he'd be mean but Harry still hadn't been expecting that.

 

H.P.

"Er, right. You guys up for going to the Quidditch pitch and, uh, maybe after that we can go see Hagrid?" Harry suggested, feeling a bit uncomfortable after Snape snapped at him in front of Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah, all right," Ron agreed with a shrug whilst quite obviously taking in Snape's quarters. "This place isn't as dungeon-ish as I thought it'd be."

"Did you think he slept in a coffin and had chains hanging off the walls?" Harry laughed.

He quickly scribbled a note to Snape on a spare piece of parchment, still feeling a little stung at Snape's comment.

"No, well not the coffin bit. I figured he wasn't a vampire after we saw him referee that Quidditch match first year."

Harry caught Hermione rolling her eyes at Ron and suppressed a grin.

"So, what is it like living with Professor Snape?" Hermione asked as they made their way up to the entrance hall.

"It must be pretty terrible. Does he make you scrub cauldrons all day?"

"Don't answer for him, Ron."

"It's not a test, is it?"

"Hey, do you want to know or what?" Harry asked in an attempt to cut off the argument before it started. "It's pretty much like you saw up there. Snape checks I'm alive and fed and then just gives me work to do to keep out of his way or he sends me outside. I have to do remedial potions though."

"At least you'll get something out of that," Hermione said approvingly.

"I don't need remedial potions though, do I? Ron's just as rubbish as I am."

"Our potions aren't rubbish, they're individual."

"He is teaching you though, isn't he?" Hermione asked frowning.

"As much as he usually does," Harry said with a shrug. He felt bad making Snape out to be worse than he was. What could be so wrong about Ron and Hermione knowing he was pretty decent after all?

"Harry?"

"What?"

"You went all quiet, mate. You okay?"

"Yeah, 'course," Harry replied with a smile.

---

Harry laughed as Ron made a spectacular lunge for the quaffle, almost colliding with the hoop he was supposed to be protecting but managing to knock the ball off course by the tips of his fingers.

"Nice one."

"I might not look great doing it but at least I'm blocking the rings, mate."

"Yeah, I've tried really hard not to let Oliver see my poor Keeping skills. He was really into people being all-rounders."

"Harry, you're the best seeker we've had in ages. I don't think he'd have cared if you couldn't tell a quaffle from a bludger as long as you caught the snitch," Ron said, landing heavily next to Hermione.

"It must be nice having the pitch all to yourself for the holidays," Hermione commented lightly.

"Yeah it is," Harry responded with enthusiasm. "Especially since I got this practice snitch – I'll show you it later – I come out whenever I can."

"Where'd you get a practice snitch?" Ron asked with something akin to awe.

"For my birthday, Sn- Sirius got it for me." Telling them Snape buys me gifts wouldn't have been slipping up at all... Harry chastised himself silently. He wished he at least knew why he was lying. It felt wrong to hide this kind of stuff from them.

"Wow, I didn't know you saw a lot of him."

"Er, yeah," Harry replied with a shrug. He didn't really want to explain that he wasn't seeing eye-to-eye with him at the moment.

He looked over to Hermione, noticing that she was giving him a rather pitying look, but when he caught her eye it disappeared completely.

They returned to Snape's quarters in time for lunch having spent an enjoyable morning out. Hagrid had been thrilled to see all of them, though Harry was a bit caught out when he said he didn't get to see enough of him. He'd mumbled an excuse about Snape not giving him enough time to stop Hermione being suspicious, but he felt bad all the same.

---

Looking around, Harry noticed that Snape had not yet arrived and led the way to the kitchen. He was eager not to make the man mad again. He'd much rather the visit went as smoothly as possible.

"How did, well, how did all of this happen?" Hermione asked finally. It had become increasingly clear to Harry throughout the morning that Hermione had something she wanted to ask him.

"All of what?" Harry asked casually, sitting himself down at the kitchen table.

"Coming to Hogwarts," she clarified. "Did something happen…?" she asked hesitantly. Ron looked a little uncomfortable but concerned all the same. He obviously knew what she was going to ask.

"No, nothing happened. I'd barely arrived before Snape came to bring me back here. Nothing happened guys, honestly."

The sound of a door opening alerted them to Snape's presence in his quarters and Hermione cast around for a safer subject. "When did you have time to go shopping?" she blurted out, looking at his clothes.

"What?" Harry answered stupidly, caught off guard.

"Your clothes, they're new," Hermione said, regarding him critically and causing Ron to stare as well.

"Uh, well, my old clothes were a bit ragged so I had to get some new ones," Harry answered as Snape swept into the room scowling. It was overdoing it a bit charming the biggest knife in the room to slice a fresh loaf of bread. Maybe it just looked threatening because he was the one directing it.

"You replaced all your clothes?" Ron asked in surprise, eyeing Harry's robes and making him wish he'd just thrown on some muggle clothes instead.

"Uh, yeah." Harry fidgeted awkwardly with his sleeves.

"Jeez, that must have cost a ton."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded loudly.

Snape, having made the sandwiches in record time, slammed the plate into the centre of the table before levelling a glare at Harry. "Really, Potter, showing off about your inherited wealth? We are feeling arrogant today, aren't we?" Snape sneered. "Perhaps you'd like to change the conversation to something with a touch more class?"

Harry, seeing no reason for Snape to want him to keep quiet about his clothes, scowled up at him and retorted angrily. "I don't see how it's showing off, sir, the school paid for them, not me."

"The school doesn't pay for clothes, Harry," Hermione cut in with a frown.

"What?" 

"Obviously the school does not usually pay for clothes Granger, but famous Harry Potter is not above taking advantage of favouritism from the headmaster," Snape said, sending a scathing look at Harry, who was now sitting in utter confusion.

Ron looked as if the world made sense again upon Snape's words, evidently remembering Harry's invisibility cloak and Nimbus 2000 he got from Dumbledore.

Snape clearly considered his work there done because at that he strode out of the room without another glance. What the hell was Snape on about? Where had that money come from? The look on Harry's face must have been furious.

"You don't get used to that, eh?" Ron asked.

The meal continued with an unusually quiet Harry. He tried not to let it show that he was too annoyed with Snape because he couldn't afford more questions from his friends if he was going to keep hiding this, whatever it was, from them. Though why he should have to protect some secret of Snape's when the man was obviously not telling him the truth was a complete mystery to him.

"Oh yeah, I meant to tell you, Dad's definitely getting those tickets for the World Cup. You're coming, right?" Ron asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah!" Harry agreed excitedly. "You're coming too?" he directed at Hermione.

"Of course I am, there'll be loads of international witches and wizards there, not to mention that it's such a key…" Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione continued listing every reason that the World Cup is such an interesting event except the game itself and Harry couldn't smother his grin, instead resorting to hiding it behind one of Snape's sandwiches.

S.S.

This was not good. How could he not have realised that the boy's friends would notice that he was wearing different clothes? He growled in frustration as he levitated Harry's quidditch magazine off the floor and onto the table. He did not want to reveal that he had bought the clothes but the boy was bright and it was only a matter of time before he became aware that it was a possibility.

Severus stopped his tidying when there was a knock at the main door and he took a moment to open it, ignoring the trio in the kitchen who had yet to leave again. He greeted the headmaster with a nod and decided that it would be best to speak in his office if they wanted any measure of privacy. He would much prefer to speak freely without the possibility of the Golden Trio eavesdropping.

He joined the headmaster in the corridor and led the way to his office, noticing that he seemed was a lot more sombre than usual. It was only when they were both seated that the silence was broken.

The headmaster set his steady gaze on him for a few moments before speaking firmly. "I believe it's time we discussed Harry's options." Options… The word sounded ominous to Severus, who was certain that he would not like many of these options, nor would he consider them as such. "Harry cannot stay here for the entirety of the summer unquestioned. I have already had to answer to other members of staff at the school and it is only a matter of time before the ministry begin to question his presence here."

"And what have you been telling people?"

"That Harry is staying with you because he needs remedial potions. It is not a particularly plausible reason as it stands and the longer he remains here the less likely it will seem."

"Where exactly do you propose he goes?" 

"Well, we've come to the real problem. Harry's permanent residence must afford him the utmost protection from Voldemort. It is only a matter of time before he returns and I will not have Harry put at risk. We also need to consider that in order to change Harry's guardians it will need to be processed via the ministry. Harry's private life will not remain so–"

"I believe you wanted to discuss his options," Severus interrupted. He had yet to hear a single one.

"I do not see that Harry has any options. There is only one that can give him the protection he needs, he must go back."

"No."

"The boy must be protected, and the blood wards are the best protection he can have. You would have me sacrifice his safety?"

"You are sacrificing his safety. He needs protection from more than the Dark Lord. Those muggles have done enough damage."

"I will not send him back without ensuring he has as much protection from the Dursleys as it is possible for him to have. I will speak to them myself; he will not be mistreated by them again."

"No, he will be neglected and I will not have it. He cannot go back there. I promised him that he would not return." 

"That was not your promise to make."

"He is not going back."

"It is not your decision. I allowed his presence at the school when you rushed in blindly with no thought to his safety and brought him back here and I had every intention of finding another option for him if there was one, but there is not."

"Whose decision is it? Perhaps the boy's godfather would like to have a say in this. I take it you've spoken to Black?"

"Severus, have you any better ideas?" the headmaster asked with more than a touch of impatience.

"I have…some thoughts," he replied in a guarded tone.

"Severus, please."

"I need a few days to talk to Harry and to sort out the details. Give me some time."

"We do not have time, my boy."

"We have enough. If it was so pressing I'm sure you would have mentioned this sooner. I need forty-eight hours and then we can see where we stand."

He would have to speak to the wolf and Black. He had no intention of speaking to or remaining in the same room with the dog unless it was absolutely necessary, so he would have to trust Lupin to relay the details. Surely if the mutt counted himself as anything like a real wizard, he'd be able to get back to Lupin's home in a timely manner, if it was for Harry.

He would need the support of the pair of them if he was going to slow down the headmaster's plans. Then it would be simply a case of sorting out where to place the child. Harry must be protected, so he would need to live with someone who was both powerful and trusted... a former member of the Order? One of the teachers? Perhaps the Weasley family if suitable provision could be made…

The sight of Harry waiting for him alone in his quarters interrupted his planning. Unusually, Harry made no move to greet him as he entered the room.

"Where are your friends?" He would not be pleased if they were roaming around unsupervised, at least if they were all together he could handle them.

"We saw McGonagall on the way back up and she saw them out when we couldn't find you."

"I was speaking to the headmaster. I did not think they would be leaving so soon."

"What was all that stuff earlier?" It was quite obvious to Severus that Harry was ready for an argument but it was not one that he had prepared for after having been distracted by the headmaster.

"You were made aware that I would have to act a certain part, were you not?" Severus asked, stalling the inevitable.

"I'm not talking about you being a– you acting like that. These weren't from Dumbledore," Harry said, gesturing down at his robes.

"I've never led you to believe they were. It would be clear to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that I was attempting to put a halt to your friends' questions."

"No," Harry disagreed angrily. "You said it because Hermione said the school fund didn't pay for clothes and you agreed with her because it doesn't. You lied to me."

"You're calling me a liar, Potter?"

"Yeah, I am. Who paid for them?"

"Detention, Potter. Speak to me like that again and you'll find yourself spending a long summer indoors." Just as Snape dealt out that threat it occurred to him that if the headmaster had his way Harry's summer would have nothing to do with him.

"Then I won't wear them. Take them back, and I'll buy my own," Harry insisted stubbornly and Severus found it increasingly difficult to stop himself from snapping at the boy. He had much more important things on his mind. He did not have time to think about clothes he'd paid for more than a month ago.

"Stop being so melodramatic, Potter."

"It's Harry and I'm not being melodramatic. I want to know who I'm accepting all this stuff from. I don't need handouts; I have my own money."

"It was not a handout. I explained that to you when I bought them, you ignorant boy," Severus snapped.

"You bought them?" Harry stared at him for a long while as if he didn't recognise him. "Why would you even…?"

"Your clothes were substandard and I rectified the issue." He summoned the jar of floo powder, catching it deftly. "Drop it, Harry."

"What did you buy them for?" Harry demanded stubbornly.

"I bought them for you. What do you think I bought them for?" Severus snapped back whilst trying to decide whether Lupin's sway would be enough to delay the headmaster for the time-being or if he should attempt to send word to Black immediately.

"I don't know. So that I'd owe you or something," Harry answered, still very much in the argument. Severus stilled suddenly upon hearing his words.

"You think I plan to hold them over your head?" Severus hissed, his irritation winning over his patience. 'You think I plan to use it against you?" he asked, slamming the jar hard against the mantel.

"Well–"

"Get out of my sight," Severus demanded.

"What?"

"Go to your room. I have no wish to see you."

"But–"

"You're already spending tomorrow morning scrubbing cauldrons, shall I make it the afternoon too?"

The boy fled to his room shutting the door with a snap. The moment Harry was gone he regretted speaking so harshly. Highly insulting as his words had been they surely stemmed more from his insecurity then anything else, but he had neither the time nor the patience to deal with that issue now. It was best the boy was out of the way while he tried to sort this out. He'd rather speak to Harry with some solution in mind than upset him with the possibility of returning to the Dursleys.

H.P.

What was that? Okay, part of him did know that it could have been a teeny tiny possibility that Snape had bought the clothes. If it had been anyone else with him he'd have realised it in an instant, but this was Snape! The minute the thought came into his head it was laughed right out again by all of his other brain cells. Snape had hated him back then, really hated him. Why would he buy him clothes if not to do something horrible?

Snape was really mad… Of course he wasn't going to hold them over him, he hadn't done anything like that with the snitch he'd bought him either. Merlin, Snape must be paying for all the food he eats as well. He assumed when Snape said that the school would pay for his clothes that he would get some sort of extra funding for taking him in. The Dursleys always moaned about how expensive it was keeping him…

He'd really insulted him. He'd been paying loads of money to take in some kid he hated from the start and he'd accused him of doing it for some underhand reason. Maybe that would have made sense to him before, but now, after everything he'd had done and giving up his summer, Snape must think he's so ungrateful.

S.S.

Firstly he'd need to speak to Lupin. He'd wanted to have a word about Harry anyway and undoubtedly this would be a long conversation. Deciding he wouldn't make it back in time to prepare any food, he requested an elf bring something to the table and apply a heating charm so that Harry would have a warm dinner for whenever he wanted.

He threw a handful of powder into the fire, calling out 'Lupin's study' as he did so.

The wolf looked surprised to see his head appear in his fire without warning, but as always allowed him to come through.

"Severus," he greeted warily.

"I'm going to make this quick, wolf, but I want to make sure the message gets through loud and clear." Lupin's eyebrows rose in surprise at the venom in Severus' voice but he didn't interrupt. "How is it after teaching at Hogwarts for a year you still have no idea how to look after a child for a matter of hours?"

Remus was looking at him in some confusion, which only served to irritate him further. "Time and time again, that boy returns to me less than happy. I'm beginning to think that it isn't worth the bother of bringing him here at all."

"Now, hold on, Severus."

"You hold on. He comes home covered in bruises and blisters that you should have healed or reported to me. You are incapable of keeping him either happy or healthy–"

"Bruises?"

"He fell over at that damned ice rink!"

"I didn't realise he was hurt. If I'd known–"

"You are not paying him enough attention! You bring that mutt here and leave Potter with him with no regard to the idiotic things he might say or do. Black is a menace."

"He's his godfather and your rivalry with him doesn't change that. He can see his godson as much as he likes."

"It seems to me that if these visits were stopped then he'd have no way of seeing the boy."

"If I recall correctly, it was you who set them up."

"And I can see that I made a mistake."

"Severus, stop. Look, I'm sorry, I didn't know that Harry was hurt. I thought he'd say something."

"He never says anything, not about being sick or hurt or in danger. You have to pay attention."

"I let him down, okay? I let him down and it won't happen again. This thing with Sirius, it will sort itself out. You've had worse arguments with Harry, so I don't see how it's your concern."

"I have to deal with it so I think it's my concern, Lupin."

"Let him come at the weekend. I've heard you loud and clear."

"He's not going anywhere this weekend. If you want to see him then come to the castle. I want you where I can see you."

"Severus, really?" Remus quickly realised that he wasn't going to win. "Sirius too."

"I do not think so."

"Harry won't be happy until this is sorted out. Don't stop him from seeing Sirius; he won't thank you for it."

"What makes you think I care about what he'll thank me for?"

Remus rolled his eyes which only served to irritate Severus more. "Is that all?"

"No. Potter needs a favour."

"What?"

"The headmaster wants to send him back."

"To his relatives?" Severus sent him a scathing look at the stupidity of his question and promptly ignored it.

"I won't have him go back. It is not a suitable home for a child."

"No, no, you're right. I can't believe he wants to send him back. You told him everything?"

"Obviously."

"What could he possibly be thinking?"

"He's using the Dark Lord as a reason, and the blood wards there are his best protection. The headmaster thinks that there is no suitable alternative that will provide him with enough safety."

"What alternatives has he offered?"

"None. He says there are none."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need time. I have some ideas but I need you to stall him. He overrides all my objections, so I need yours and Black's support."

"Of course we'll talk to Albus; it goes without saying. What are your ideas?"

"They are not quite concrete. We need a solution that gives Harry– Potter," Severus added his surname after a fraction of a second, hoping that it sounded like an ironic use of his full name, "has adequate protection from the Dark Lord. We also need a solution that bypasses the ministry. We cannot afford their interference. Potter cannot go through the system and receive adequate protection. The boy would probably be more comfortable living with someone he trusts so that would be the final thing to consider.

"The level of protection is the headmaster's main priority. We cannot keep him on school property in the summer without the ministry realising, so he needs to live with someone who is happy living under the most stringent wards. That person must also be willing to protect Harry and be a competent witch or wizard. That, I think, will satisfy his requirements."

"How can we make all that happen?"

"The muggles do not want him. They will not object to us taking him out of their care. For the time being... Perhaps an agreement of sorts can be drawn up. They will remain his official guardians but relinquish secondary power to the person who is given responsibility of Potter."

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

"That is what will require the time. I need to approach people who the boy knows and who would also satisfy the headmaster. And I need time to explain the situation."

"How is Harry taking this?"

"I haven't told him yet," Severus admitted. "Perhaps you could make yourself useful and help me come up with people who would volunteer for this? And summon the mutt and explain the situation."

"I may have to fill him in on some details…"

"He doesn't know about the boy's family?"

"He doesn't exactly know specifics, just the general idea."

H.P.

He really had screwed everything up. Snape hadn't called him out or come in to speak to him and it had been ages. He should never have said that he thought Snape would do that. He obviously wouldn't, he knew that he wouldn't. Snape hadn't used his family to make fun of him even when they'd been screaming at each other and Snape had hated him. It's just weird that he'd go and spend a load of money on him when he didn't even like him. He deserved some sort of explanation at least!

He wished he'd eaten more at lunch. He was a bit hungry but he wouldn't inflict his company on Snape, not if he was still really mad. He wouldn't want to see him. Gryffindor he might be but, truth be told, he was too ashamed to face him.

---

S.S.

He returned much later than he thought he would and, casting tempus as he stepped out of the fire, he noted that it was close to midnight. He had flooed out just as Black was due to arrive after agreeing on a course of action with Lupin. The sooner they approach the headmaster the more comfortable he'd feel. He caught a glimpse of the kitchen and frowned, seeing that none of the food had been touched. Was Harry ill? Had he not noticed?

He knocked quickly on the boy's bedroom door before sweeping it open to find Harry hunched over fully clothed on his bed, clearly nodding off. In a second was by his side. "Harry?" he called and receiving no response proceeded to the harsher and louder 'Potter!'

"Hmm?" Harry mumbled.

"Are you ill?" Severus asked as Harry blinked up at him.

"No…"

"You don't feel sick? Do you have a headache?" Severus asked quickly, peering down at him as if to ascertain by sight whether Harry was unwell.

"No," Harry replied, clearly confused. Severus' demeanour changed in an instant from one of concern to one of anger.

"Kitchen. Now," he growled.

"What?"

"Move!"

Harry drowsily made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he sat at the table. When the smell of the food hit him he woke right up, glancing over at Severus. "I take it eating hasn't suddenly become a foreign concept to you?"

Harry chose to ignore Severus' tone, going instead for a forkful of the food.

"Why didn't you eat while I was out?" Severus asked. How badly could he think of him that after this last month or more he still thought that he would plan on holding his poor family life over him? And now he even seems to think that Severus doesn't want him to eat. At what point did it become so important to him that Harry not think those things?

"Didn't know you were out," Harry said through a mouthful of rice.

"You thought that on top of buying you things in order to hold them against you, that I wanted to starve you as punishment?" Severus questioned angrily, his arms crossed and an eyebrow arched in displeasure.

"No," Harry said loudly, putting down his cutlery and looking upset.

"Explain then, Potter," Severus asked wearily, settling himself opposite the boy at the table and helping himself to a plate as well.

"Harry," the younger wizard demanded.

"Harry," Severus agreed, correcting himself.

"You said to stay in my room. You didn't want to see me so I didn't think I was supposed to come out. I wasn't about to make everything worse by annoying you even more."

"You will eat three meals a day here no matter how much you infuriate me. I was under the impression that you realised this."

"I do. I just didn't think. Look, I'm sorry, I don't think you'd buy me stuff to hold it over me."

Severus put up a hand to stop him. "I had never intended on telling you that I paid for the clothes," he started and considered Harry for a moment. "If you would not have accepted them from me before I would hope that you would accept them from me now, knowing that I have no plans to hold them over you."

"Sir… they were expensive. I can get my own clothes."

"I will say it one more time. A child does not buy their own basic necessities. You do not pay rent, you do not buy clothes and you do not pay for food here. I pay for it, I took you in, it is my pleasure," Severus bit out, his voice growing more irritated as he spoke so that the last words came out through gritted teeth.

"I had clothes," Harry said quietly, not quite ready to give up.

"They were not good enough."

"Merlin and you bought me the coat," he said suddenly, his eyes widening as he remembered and Severus tried hard to bite back his irritation as he was well aware that it was not entirely the boy's fault that he could not accept the clothes.

"This is exactly why I did not want you to know. Let. It. Go."

Harry considered him for a moment. "If we're okay?"

"Pardon?"

"I'll let it go if we're okay. I'll take the clothes and I won't go on about it if you forget about what I said earlier."

"The punishment stands," Severus said standing up, and noticing that Harry's expression could not look that distressed at the prospect of scrubbing cauldrons. "We are fine. Go back to bed."

 

S.S.

Severus tried to hold off his tiredness as he accepted a floo call from Lupin. He had not slept well that night.

"I explained the situation to each of them after I spoke to Sirius."

"And?"

"They've agreed, so it's just the details that need sorting with Albus. I sent him an urgent letter last night and scheduled a meeting on behalf of them all with Albus for today."

"I'll be informing Potter of the situation this morning. Then at least he has a day to consider his options. Not that it's anywhere near long enough for this kind of decision," Severus said with frustration.

"No," Lupin agreed. "Tell Harry that I'll see him tomorrow. Do you need Sirius to be there when we meet with Albus?"

"No, it's bad enough that we're thrusting this decision on the boy. I highly doubt he'll want to deal with Black as well."

"They had an argument. It doesn't stop Sirius being his godfather."

"He's barely started being his godfather."

"He was falsely imprisoned for Harry's parents' murder, so they could hardly have had a relationship. You don't have the high ground here, Severus. You tortured Harry for years. Don't act like you're the only one who cares for him." Lupin's head disappeared from the fire just as Severus opened his mouth to deliver a scathing retort.

---

H.P.

"Harry, a word please," Snape called from the sofa.

"Yeah?" Harry answered rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Sit," Snape ordered, looking not at all happy.

"Is this about the cauldrons? I know I still have to do that today and I am sorry, I don't think that you would–"

"This isn't about your punishment. As I said it stands but we do not have time to deal with that at the moment. There is something I need to discuss with you urgently."

For something urgent, Snape was really taking his time to talk to him about it and Harry began to feel a little nervous.

"So, er, what did I do?"

"Is it really possible that since last night you've done something else to get yourself in trouble?"

"Probably," Harry answered with a grin, hoping to ease the tension. It was unnerving that Snape seemed too serious to react. In fact, he even looked slightly apprehensive.

"You understand that it is a serious thing to be taken out of the care of your current guardians?" Snape asked finally.

"Yes," Harry replied warily.

"Up until now this… situation… has been dealt with rather informally," Snape began, obviously choosing his words carefully. With no response forthcoming from Harry he continued. "It has become imperative that we formalise your living situation." That sounded like a good thing, so why did Snape look so uncomfortable?

"So, what do we do?" Harry asked eagerly. He was ready to get the ball rolling with anything that would keep him permanently away from the Dursleys.

"You do not have many options," Snape continued. "It is impossible for you to be separated from your guardians officially at this stage."

"Why?" Harry interrupted, earning a disapproving glare from Snape.

"It would involve the ministry. We cannot run the risk that you would be placed in an orphanage or in an unsatisfactory home." Harry shuddered at the thought of going to live in an orphanage.

"No, no orphanages."

"Indeed," Snape nodded. "I suggest an agreement be drawn up with your relatives that leaves them your true guardians but delegates responsibility of you to another."

"That sounds okay, I guess."

"It means the ministry would not register a change of guardian but it would not be your relatives who you lived with or who made decisions concerning your care," Snape clarified, watching Harry intently.

"I won't have to go back and the ministry won't be involved?" 

"Exactly. The issue is that we need to make sure that the ministry does not become suspicious or interested in your home life and that is why we need to move quickly."

"Right."

"You cannot stay in the castle without arousing suspicion. The headmaster has informed me that it has already been too long." Snape frowned as he mentioned the headmaster and flicked his wand irritably, causing a sheet of paper to zoom into his hands with slightly more force than Harry was sure he intended.

"I have a list," he began as he unfolded the parchment.

"Of what?" Harry asked, almost despairingly. What's he written a list for now? If it's another set of rules...

"Don't interrupt me and perhaps you'll find out. It's a list of people who can adequately protect you and are willing to take you in."

S.S.

The boy looked confused for a moment before his face went blank. "Right," he answered tonelessly, taking the parchment that Snape held out.

"You have some time to consider with whom you'd like to live, but not a lot. You need to have some idea by tomorrow. It's going to be for the entirety of every summer holidays, at least until you're of age, and of course with the option of both Christmas and Easter, so think carefully."

"Right," he repeated, glancing down at the list.

"The headmaster will be coming down tomorrow as will Lupin. Is there anything you don't understand?" Harry remained silent for a moment.

"No, it's crystal clear, sir," he said, still looking at the parchment.

Severus nodded, leaving Harry alone with the list.

---

Harry was quiet as he sat down for dinner that night. Severus watched as he gave his meal more attention than he had done any potions assignment.

"Do you have anything you wish to discuss before tomorrow?" Snape asked as Harry reached over for the gravy.

"No, sir," he responded shortly.

"I find it hard to believe that there is nothing you have to say about all of this."

Harry shrugged in response and continued eating. They finished the rest of the meal in silence until Severus asked whether or not Harry would like seconds and he responded with a polite 'nossir' and excused himself from the table, leaving a frowning Severus alone in the kitchen.

S.S.

Severus didn't have to be particularly perceptive to see that the boy was bothered by more than the weight of the decision and he cast his mind back to their conversation, wondering exactly what it was that had set the child's temper off. He winced, realising that he had sprung seeing Lupin on the boy. What with organising everything for Harry it slipped his mind that it would be the first time he'd see Lupin after his argument with Black. It was no wonder the boy was preoccupied.

"Harry?" Severus called, from the boy's doorway. The boy was playing with his practice snitch on his bed, looking irritatingly like his father. "I understand this isn't fair and that this is sudden but I need to see that you're considering this. I went to considerable effort to organise this for you at short notice."

"Right. Thanks, sir."

"Harry," Severus began sternly, irritated by Harry's attitude.

"I'm thinking about it, sir."

"Is Lupin's presence going to be a problem?"

"No, sir."

"I understand you haven't spoken to him since he took you out for your birthday," he pressed, attempting to be tactful by avoiding saying 'since you ran out of the floo screaming'.

"It'll be fine. It wasn't really him I was–" Harry cut himself off suddenly, merely shrugging. "It'll be fine, sir."

He didn't know what he wanted Harry to say to him but this irritating politeness was starting to grate on him.

"If something is bothering you, perhaps it would be better if we discussed it now so that you can make this decision without any unnecessary distractions." He wasn't lying about it not being an issue seeing Lupin, so that wasn't the cause of his odd behaviour.

"Nothing's bothering me, Professor. I'm just thinking about the list, really."

"I'm glad that you're considering this but I think you'd make a more informed decision if we discussed it."

"I don't think I need to, sir, but thanks," Harry replied calmly with a shrug.

"Humour me," Severus demanded, irritation creeping into his voice.

"No thanks, sir."

Severus did his best to swallow his frustration. He couldn't just leave him to make this decision without any discussion at all and definitely not in whatever ridiculous mood he was in now. "We'll talk in the morning."

The boy was censoring himself and his attitude was nothing short of deliberate. He'd made quite a jump from 'I'll drop it as long as we're okay' to the polite, often monosyllabic, responses he'd begun to give.

---

H.P.

Harry reluctantly dropped himself into his chair at the table across from Snape. It was obvious that Snape was getting angry with him and he didn't want him to be angry, but he also didn't want to talk about his options and he definitely didn't want to talk about them with Snape.

"I think you might be mistaking me for a far more patient man, Harry. I'm tired of this attitude," Snape growled as he shoved a bowl of cereal towards him.

"What attitude?" Harry asked innocently.

"Don't act the imbecile, boy."

Harry flinched but said nothing. What would it matter now anyway? He cast around for something to ask that didn't involve talking about Snape's stupid list. "Fine. Do you want the clothes back?"

"Are you attempting to irritate me?" Snape snapped in disbelief.

"No, it's just that they were really expensive and you said that you got them because I was your responsibility. Well, I'm not now, am I?" Harry said with a shrug.

"You think that I'm going to take the clothes back off of you? I see that you had only begun to insult me yesterday," Snape snarled darkly.

He was probably itching to punish him but what would be the point if he wasn't going to live here any more?

"I can pay you back if you want," Harry offered. He said he'd accept them yesterday but that was when he was living with Snape.

"Shut up, Potter. This was always a temporary solution; I knew that when I bought the damned clothes for you."

"Right, temporary. Got it," Harry said a little more bitterly than he'd have liked.

"It is a complete mystery to me why you want to talk about clothes instead of who you'd like to live with in place of your relatives."

"When's Remus coming, sir?" Harry asked quickly.

"Don't ignore me, Potter!" Apparently Snape could see through his attempts at making alternative conversation.

"I'm not, sir."

"You will discuss this, with me or the– Lupin." Harry shrugged off Snape's demand as he got up and left to wait in the living room.

Harry listened as Snape slammed cupboards in the kitchen, clearly angry over the one-sided conversation they'd just had. It was obvious that it was taking all of Snape's self-restraint not to scream at him in frustration, but it wouldn't be long until he wasn't Snape's problem any more anyway. He wanted to ask again how long it was going to be until Remus and Dumbledore arrived but he wasn't about to risk annoying Snape again.

Lupin appeared first, stepping out of the fireplace with a casual ease that Harry could only dream of carrying off. Harry gave an awkward smile that Lupin returned with a strained one of his own.

"How are you?"

"Okay," Harry said with a shrug. "You?"

"I'm fine, Harry. I'm not the one making the big decision this morning."

Harry grimaced but nodded. "It's not that big a deal."

"It is. Speaking of big deals, we need to talk about the other week."

"I don't want to talk about that or Sirius," he said quickly.

"Well, I wasn't going to talk about that, but while we're on the subject, if you want to talk about–"

"I don't," Harry said, cutting him off and shaking his head.

"Harry–"

"I don't want to talk about it. I already spoke to Snape."

"I'm not sure that was the best idea. I'm not going to force you to talk to me about your father but I do want to talk to you about Sirius." When no reply was forthcoming Remus ploughed on. "Sirius loves you and if he wasn't still being hunted by the ministry he'd take you in without hesitation. I know you're mad at him about what he said before, but you must understand, this rivalry with Severus, it's not so easy for him to let go of. He's been in Azkaban for twelve years. It's hard for him to understand how different things are but he's trying to do his best by you."

"I'm not mad because he doesn't like Snape," Harry said, outraged at the thought.

"You don't want to tell me why you're mad," Lupin replied calmly. "I'm just saying that you should talk to him and try to understand that he's going to make mistakes after spending twelve years in prison but he loves you."

Harry exhaled noisily. "I'm sorry." Lupin was right he couldn't shut out the one person who actually did want to take him in and really cared for him, but Sirius wasn't who he'd thought he was. He'd thought before that stuff about Sirius sending Snape after Remus back when they were at school was a mistake or could have been explained away, but the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he did it on purpose.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Harry. I just want you to talk to him," Remus replied.

"Lupin," Snape greeted Remus with a nod from the kitchen doorway and beckoned him over, sending a cursory glance Harry's way.

S.S.

"Was that the best time?" Severus asked pointedly, gesturing at Harry's dejected form on the sofa.

"He needs to have a relationship with his godfather."

"Talk to him about who he wants to live with," Severus demanded abruptly.

"You haven't already? It's a bit late, isn't it?" Lupin responded with disbelief.

"Don't test my patience, wolf! I had one evening with the boy. Albus will be here in ten minutes, so talk to him."

H.P.

"You ready then, Harry?"

"I suppose so, yeah."

"I'm sorry this is all so rushed; it was sprung on Severus really very suddenly. I invited everyone on Severus' list to a meeting with Albus yesterday morning so it's just a case of ironing out the details with him today," Remus explained in what he obviously considered a reassuring tone.

"How come they need to see Dumbledore?" Harry asked. He could see that his uncertainty had thrown Remus off.

"This solution was Severus' idea, so we just need to make sure that Albus will okay it and part of that is making sure we're all on the same page about the warding. I explained that it would be stringent and heavy but it's up to Albus to determine the specifics."

"What do you mean 'okay it'? Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"I'm surprised Severus didn't explain this better... Albus wants to make sure that you'll be as protected as possible so we need to make sure this arrangement won't put you in any danger, that's all."

"So I might still be going back?"

"Not if we can help it."

"But Snape said–"

"I see why Severus didn't say anything," Remus muttered to himself. "It will be fine. I can't see Albus being unreasonable about this."

There was a knock on the door and Harry got up to answer it, just catching a sarcastic mutter from Snape behind him. Well done, wolf.

"Good morning Harry, Severus, Remus." Professor Dumbledore greeted them sombrely from the doorway, politely waiting to be invited inside.

"Uh, come in, sir," Harry said, disliking the formality and sensing the tension in the room between all three adults.

"I believe we need to have a serious conversation," Dumbledore said, gesturing for them all to sit. As Harry moved to comply he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Hold on a moment headmaster. Harry, I'd like a word."

"Wh-" Harry started, before being cut off by Snape.

"Now," Snape insisted, steering him towards his bedroom.

"Severus, we do not have time to delay."

"You will get your decision when I've had a word with Harry. I think you can handle waiting a few more minutes," Snape hissed with more than a little venom.

S.S.

"What, Potter, is the reason behind this ridiculous attitude?" Severus asked abruptly the moment the door was shut. He would not stand by and wait for Harry to make a rash decision that he hadn't thought through because he was too busy having some adolescent mood swing.

"I don't have an attitude, Professor. I thought this had to be done quickly, sir," Harry replied dismissively, retaining that irritating 'politeness' that Severus wanted to put a stop to.

"Perhaps, Potter, you do not appreciate the considerable lengths I went to when I organised this for you," Severus started in his most silky, dangerous voice. "Believe me, it was some trouble and neither you nor I will leave this room until I am satisfied that you are taking this decision seriously and in the correct frame of mind."

"I am taking this seriously, sir," Harry replied blandly.

"Do not 'sir' me, Harry!" Severus yelled in frustration. "Do you think me a fool?"

"No, Professor," Harry replied innocently.

"HARRY! Sit down, now. Say nothing, not a word, or I will cast a silencing charm on you before I lose my patience completely." Harry complied somewhat unwillingly, sitting himself on the edge of his bed and staring off to the side.

"I want you to explain to me why you're angry, when I say," Severus stressed, seeing Harry open his mouth, more than likely to spew some irritating denial. "I do not want to hear that you are not angry and I do not want to hear anything about this being unfair. I want you to look at me and explain to me what is wrong."

Harry sat completely still, neither speaking nor looking up at Severus. "I have all day, Potter. Be my guest, drag this out as long as you like."

"I'm not angry," he said simply.

"Do not lie to me."

"You can't keep me in here. I don't have to do anything you say any more," Harry replied and Severus was pleased that a note of frustration was beginning to creep into his voice.

"Oh, I think you do, Potter. Until all this is sorted out I am still your guardian, so I believe you do have to do what I say."

"I want to talk to Dumbledore."

"I couldn't care less what you want."

"I know."

There was silence as neither of them spoke and Harry fixed his angry gaze on the wall as Snape stood blocking the door.

"Care to explain that?"

"No," Harry snapped back. Severus merely narrowed his eyes. He was determined not to rise to his behaviour now that he had gotten him to drop the ridiculous 'polite' act he had been putting on.

Severus regarded Harry stonily. It was hard to remember that he was the same boy that came pelting out of the floo away from his godfather just days before.

"Why these people?" Harry bit out after yet another tense silence and held out the list that Snape had drawn up.

"They are willing and trustworthy, they understand that you are at some risk or may well be in the future and would be willing to make provision for it and protect you if necessary. I narrowed the list down to these specific individuals so that you would have a choice of people that you would be willing to live with."

Snape watched Harry look blankly down at the list as he spoke. "I would have thought that you would appreciate what these people are willing to do for you. There are not many people who would be so lucky."

"I do appreciate it."

"Odd, Potter, because it seems to me that you've put more energy into irritating me than considering with whom you'd like to live."

Harry didn't answer, simply staring resolutely ahead. "I am this close to losing my patience with you, you irritating, ungrateful–" Severus cut himself off and shook his head. "Enough of this. I thought better of you."

Severus knelt directly in front of where Harry was sitting, earning himself a baleful glare but Harry made no move to escape until Severus grabbed his chin and held his head firmly in place, so that he was looking into his potions teacher's eyes. Severus held his gaze and his chin as Harry tried to pull out of his grip. "I wouldn't bother, Potter. Is your attitude towards me to do with this list?" Severus asked still maintaining eye contact. Harry looked positively mutinous but flinched when Severus insisted harshly, "Answer me."

"No."

"Liar. You remember how I feel about lies, do you?" Severus didn't give him a chance to answer before he asked another question. "Are you angry because I have not given you enough time to consider your options?"

"No."

"You're disappointed with who's on the list?"

"Get off," Harry demanded with a hint of desperation.

"I'll take that as a yes then, shall I? I wouldn't have thought it would need explaining that you cannot live with your godfather or Lupin."

"I know that. I'm not stupid!"

"You couldn't be more mistaken," Severus said, before exiting the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

---

"Where's Harry?"

"In his room," Severus answered shortly, scowling with irritation.

"Ah. Perhaps that is for the best," Dumbledore stated calmly, only serving to irritate Severus further.

"How could it possibly be for the best?"

"Severus, I've spoken to all of your candidates and it would seem that they are not quite as prepared as you might have anticipated."

"Lupin spoke to them a day ago. He found them quite prepared then," he snarled, turning to face the headmaster as he paced back and forth in front of Harry's room.

"They may well have been before we discussed the details but this is quite a serious commitment that you're proposing."

"I'm well aware of the seriousness of the situation."

"Albus, what exactly is going on?" Lupin cut in tiredly.

"They are unwilling, my boys," Dumbledore responded in a barely believable regretful tone.

"If they knew the situation they wouldn't be unwilling. Minerva's his head of house for Merlin's sake," Lupin said, looking appalled.

"You dissuaded them," Severus accused without emotion. It was not as if he did not expect some manipulation on the headmaster's part.

"They asked for my view on the matter and I gave it. I will not lie, not when Harry's and their own safety would be at risk."

"I cannot believe this," Lupin muttered, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"You've done what you could. Lily would want her son to be safe."

"This is not about Lily. This is about Harry!"

"Can we just calm down. Where does this leave us?" Remus asked.

"Harry goes back and I will have him protected to the best of my ability there."

"Severus, you could take him," Lupin suggested, turning away from the headmaster to face Severus directly.

"I cannot take him. We discussed this already, or is your memory that short?"

"It's not ideal, obviously, but it's not impossible."

"Not ideal? I'll be spying on the Dark Lord and consorting with Death Eaters."

"I know. I said it's not ideal but You-Know-Who hardly makes house calls and especially not to a man acting as his spy on Albus Dumbledore."

"He does not want to live with me."

"What are you basing that on?" Lupin asked with a hint of incredulity, which Severus answered with a sneer. "Look, I thought we were all discussing what is best for Harry?"

"We are."

"I think this is it. I thought you'd at least be willing after–"

"I did not say I was not willing," Severus interrupted heatedly.

"Gentlemen?" The headmaster interrupted quietly and both men fell silent.

Severus stood perfectly still, considering the situation. He was only left with one option. He'd have to explain everything to the boy before it went ahead but it was all they had. He supposed there would be the possibility of transferring guardianship later, when they had more time to fight the headmaster's manipulations.

"I'm taking the damned boy," Severus declared suddenly.

"Now, we need to consider this properly."

"You can't dissuade me so easily. I'm willing to take him, I'll live with whatever wards you want, you consider me trustworthy, I am a powerful wizard and I have always protected him. As for my responsibility, when the Dark Lord rises again I will fulfil my role as I said that I would. There is no knowing when he'll return, Harry could be out and grown by then."

"And you think that working as a spy would allow you to be an adequate guardian for Harry?"

"Albus, please, look what you're considering sending him back to. Severus has already proven that he can more than adequately care for Harry," Lupin said in his defence.

"You've backed me into a corner. I take it Sirius will agree?"

"Yes. In time," he amended and Dumbledore nodded.

"Then all we need is Harry's agreement and then we must begin. Time is of the essence."

 

H.P.

Snape re-entered his room much more calmly than when he had left, but Harry made no move to greet him. He was tired, tired of arguing with Snape when he didn't want to, tired of being disappointed, tired of people talking about him and making decisions without discussing it with him first.

"The situation has changed," Snape declared, moving to stand in Harry's line of sight when he refused to stand and acknowledge him. "It does not matter that you refuse to consider your options sensibly. You now have one option if you would rather not live with your aunt and uncle." Harry couldn't help himself and looked up at Snape in confusion. "Your option is living with me in my house."

That was an option now? One minute it isn't even on the table and the next it's the only option. Was Dumbledore forcing Snape to take him for some reason? "You're not even on the list," Harry said, picking it up and thrusting it at Snape who, instead of taking it, vanished it with a flick of his wand.

"Forget the list. Am I going to get a decision or are you going to refuse to answer me this as well?"

"I'll go with you," Harry muttered almost instantly.

"There's no need to sound so thrilled." Harry threw Snape an irritated look. He just wanted this whole situation to go away. "It isn't quite that simple," Snape started, pulling Harry's desk chair round to face him and sitting down, choosing to ignore Harry's frustrated sigh. When was anything simple any more?

"I assume you recall the conversation we had regarding my reputation?"

"Yeah, I remember. You wouldn't tell my why it was such a big deal."

"If you're considering living with me for the foreseeable future there are certain things that you need to know before you agree." Wait, wasn't this supposed to be permanent?

Overcome by curiosity he stared at Snape who was clearly considering his words more carefully than usual.

"I must be seen to dislike you and treat you cruelly not just because of my… dislike…of your father. You are aware that there are people in the wizarding world who were on the side of the Dark Lord?"

"Uh, people like Malfoy?" Harry suggested and Snape gave a nod.

"There were general supporters of the Dark Lord, people who thought that he had the right idea but kept to themselves. Then there were more passionate supporters, people who were in his inner circle who would do his bidding. His followers, if you will."

"That was back then though, what's that got to do with now?" Snape sent him a look that seemed to say 'shut up and I'll tell you'.

"It was very difficult for the Ministry to capture all of his followers. There are spells that were used to force people to do things… There were also those who bought their way out of jail, made deals or claimed they had been cursed. Not all of the Dark Lord's followers are in Azkaban."

"And you don't want them to know that you don't hate me because…?"

"Before you defeated the Dark Lord fourteen years ago there were people other than the Ministry who were fighting against him."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, hazarding a guess.

"Exactly. I was a spy for the headmaster. I would ensure that he knew what the Dark Lord was going to do."

"So you were being–"

"A Death Eater," Snape clarified.

"Death Eater?" Harry repeated, making a face. "Did they get to pick that name themselves?"

"It was a name devised by the Dark Lord's followers, not by the media if that's what you're asking."

"I don't see why people still have to think you hate me," Harry said, shrugging as if it didn't really matter to him.

"You're well aware that the Dark Lord will eventually return and when he does I will resume my role," Snape said, somewhat condescendingly as if Harry should have guessed himself.

Harry felt his jaw drop with something akin to horror. What did Snape want to go and do something like that for?

"But isn't that really dangerous?"

"Obviously there is some risk, which is what I wanted to discuss with you. The Dark Lord could return at any time. It may well happen whilst you are living with me and that would mean that I would be leaving for meetings and brewing for the Dark Lord."

"Brewing for Voldemort?"

"The Dark Lord and yes. Being a spy means that I will have to perform certain tasks for the Dark Lord."

"Isn't that like helping him?"

"One has to consider what will be best in the long term. It would be worse to not have the information. I do not expect you to understand and it may well not have an impact on you. You could be out and grown but you have to consider whether you would still want to live in my house."

"I'd still rather live with you," Harry replied, not needing to consider the issue further. Snape seemed satisfied and rose to his feet.

"We will begin the warding today and make contact with your relatives. I suggest you pack."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed tiredly.

S.S.

"We can go ahead. How long will the warding take?"

"With the three of us we wouldn't finish until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. I would feel far more at ease if Harry was out of the castle by tomorrow evening. We'll need to act as if he's going back to his relatives of course," Albus explained and Lupin nodded.

That would mean a show of either putting him on the train or taking him to his relatives directly. He would rather the former and undoubtedly Harry would agree, if he wasn't too busy sulking.

"He shouldn't be moved without the agreement of his relatives. How much would we be set back if we had two working on the wards for part of the day?" Severus asked, thinking of the agreement that needed drawing up.

"We may not get Harry moved tomorrow."

"We could use Sirius. He can floo in and help with the warding," Lupin suggested.

"We'll lose time explaining the situation to the mutt."

"Severus, be reasonable."

"I don't want him in my quarters or my house and I will not have him talking to Harry!" Severus snarled.

"He's a capable wizard and we could use his help. He has every right to talk to Harry," Lupin replied with irritating calmness.

"Yes, summon him Remus," Dumbledore ordered.

"I believe I said no. Am I not in charge of who gets invited into my own quarters?" Severus demanded furiously as his floo turned green and the wolf disappeared.

---

"There is no way this is happening!" Black flung out to the room at large the moment he stepped out of the floo. Severus couldn't help but feel smug that he was the one taking Harry, and even if Harry was behaving oddly, he was at least talking to him.

"Wipe that smirk of your face Snivelly, it's not happening."

"It is this or he returns to his relatives," Dumbledore said calmly, stepping between the two men who were staring daggers at each other.

Black looked for a moment as if he was going to say that going to his relatives would be the lesser of two evils. "No, I don't trust him."

"By all means, Black, send the boy to his relatives, alienate him even more. He's already no longer speaking to you."

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, trapping him here, feeding him lies."

"Wand down, Severus!"

Severus lowered his wand with bad grace and a furious snarl. "I have no need to manipulate him against you, you've done such a fine job yourself. Well done." Severus clapped slowly, mockingly, watching Black's face contort with anger.

"Enough. I expected you both to behave with a good deal more maturity," the headmaster said, moving to stand between them. Severus' lip curled at the idea of Black and mature in the same sentence.

"I want to talk to Harry," Black demanded.

"No."

"Don't tell me I can't talk to my own godson!"

"And what a godfather you make Black, the boy doesn't want to see you," Severus hissed.

"I want to know you've not bullied him into this." The irony!

"We can talk for a bit, I guess," came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see Harry hovering a few paces out of his room.

Severus seethed at the smug look Black shot at him as he walked past.

"We are losing time as it is. Perhaps it would be best if we begin to draw up the agreement now?" the headmaster suggested.

"He'll be fine, Severus," Lupin said quietly as he stared after Black.

"Do something useful instead of spouting nonsense, Lupin," Severus snarled as he summoned some fresh parchment and a quill and set to work with the headmaster.

H.P.

"How are you?" Sirius began awkwardly. It made Harry feel a bit better that he wasn't the only one who was really uncomfortable.

"M'all right. Snape's not forcing me to live with him," Harry declared, without waiting to be asked. He hadn't been eavesdropping but none of them had been particularly quiet.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Sirius looked as if he thought he'd gone mental for thinking this was a good idea.

"I don't want to go back to the Dursleys, so yeah."

"I've said it before and I'll say it as many times as I can – I don't trust him. It's bad enough you've had to be with him this long as it is."

"It's me who's living with him and he's all right," Harry said, anger creeping into his tone.

"I know you had it rough, really rough, with your relatives but that doesn't make living with Snape a good option."

"Don't. I don't want to talk about any of that," Harry said, holding up his hand as if he could ward the whole conversation off. "And he's not trying to turn me against you and my dad, you know."

"He's a Slytherin, Harry. He knows exactly how to manipulate people."

"I'm not being manipulated," Harry denied, irritated that Sirius would think he could be so easily swayed.

"How can you expect me to think you're not after last week? Snape's got you thinking he was some sort of saint."

"That wasn't about Snape. Not everything is about Snape!"

"Then I don't understand."

"I don't like the idea of you and my dad being bullies and you still thinking it's okay," he said, frustrated that he should even have to explain.

"That wasn't bullying, it was Snape."

"It doesn't matter who it was. You started it for no reason and you thought it was funny."

Sirius frowned as if in thought. "I didn't think you'd see it like that. It wasn't like that, not to us. Merlin, Harry, Snape was a special case where we were concerned. He and your father–"

"They were rivals, yeah I know," Harry interrupted.

"James fiercely hated the dark arts and Snape was in deep. He was in love with the stuff. It wasn't one sided, Snape hated James, probably out of jealousy more than anything."

"I know he gave as good as he got."

"It was stupid, we were young–"

"You don't think it was stupid; you think it was funny."

"Part of me doesn't see it as wrong. To me, it's Snape and he deserves it but I agree that it was in bad taste to attack first," he amended quickly. "It was a good memory because it was before the war, before I lost James." His expression looked both wistful and sad for a moment. "He was a great man, you know. I didn't make him sound too great but he was. He grew up more than I did before...It probably comes with having a wife and son. I don't want you to think less of him. I'm sorry I said anything last week."

Harry regarded his godfather carefully. He didn't want to be arguing with him, and he could tell he cared about him too and that was more than he'd ever had before this summer. He hated the fact that they had both been like that but it Sirius admitted that it had been wrong, and he'd forgiven Snape hadn't he? He couldn't forgive Snape then not forgive his own godfather and father…

"I'm just disappointed, I guess. I never thought my father or you would be like that. I still don't like it but I don't want to be fighting."

"We were idiots when we were young, Harry."

"Yeah."

"I suppose I'd better get to helping out with the warding if you're sure, one hundred percent sure?" Sirius asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"I am."

---

S.S.

"Do nothing Severus. Get the signature and do nothing." The headmaster's words were still loud and clear in Severus' head when he apparated to Privet Drive.

Severus' loud knock was hastily answered by Petunia Dursley, who was not so quick to invite him inside. By the look on her face she hadn't expected him to make good on his threat to return.

"I believe I said I'd be back," he stated, striding past her into the house.

"What are you doing here, Snape? You took the boy, what more do you want?" It was clear that she was afraid and Severus surmised that her husband must not be home. Her eyes flicked nervously to the wand that he was in no way concealing.

"Perhaps I'm here to exact a little revenge… I've had some time to consider what you and yours deserve."

"We did nothing wrong!" she interrupted venomously. "We raised the boy despite his abnormality." Severus regarded Lily's sister with interest; she seemed unable to even form the word 'wizard'.

"The boy isn't abnormal, you and that poor excuse for a man you call a husband are abnormal," he sneered. "Does the word Azkaban mean anything to you?" he asked calmly, noticing her eyes widen in fear. Either she did know or she was at least bright enough to recognise a threat when she heard one.

"The boy needed a strict upbringing. We didn't do anything wrong."

It was then that it clicked for Severus. 'The boy needed a strict upbringing…' 'we raised the boy…' If he thought back to when he initially arrived here he doubted that anyone referred to the child as anything other than 'boy' or 'freak'. At least that was one mystery solved.

Severus focused on the woman cowering in front of him. "Our Mr. Potter is quite the celebrity… Be was our saviour after all. I think the wizarding public will be inclined to disagree with your opinion on the subject, don't you?" Severus asked silkily, raising an eyebrow and drawing his wand out further.

"You can't–" she spluttered.

"Can't I?" he asked as if to say 'try me'. "Well, it would seem that you can be of some use to me. I will consider sparing you and your husband from the dementors on the condition that you delegate guardianship of Mr. Potter to me."

"Yes, you can take him," she said without a moments thought, utterly relieved there was such a simple way out.

The moment the document was signed Severus rolled up the parchment, concealing it in his robes, and pointed his wand viciously at her overly long neck, so the tip was digging uncomfortably into her windpipe.

"So quick to be rid of him, to give him to a man he despised for years, a man who could want to destroy him. You know the danger he's in. You care so little, you care nothing for the child," he growled, knowing his wand was heating, readying itself to let a few curses fly.

Petunia swallowed nervously. "We didn't ask for him." That was all she could say in her defence?

"Do you have any idea what kind of wizard I am? What I've done? I could kill you in an instant or I could have you screaming, begging for death," he hissed.

"No, please," she begged, her eyes riveted on the wand in his hand.

Severus snarled a few choice words in Latin, letting his wand sweep over Petunia and her home.

"What did you do?" she gasped breathlessly, clutching the wall for support.

"I wouldn't be surprised if your fortune takes a sudden turn for the worse."

---

H.P.

They'd left him by himself for the rest of the day, disappearing off to his new home. Or his home for now, anyway. Harry kicked a loose stone on the floor of the owlery. Why was it that when it was someone else taking him in it was for good, but with Snape it was temporary again? He must really not want to take him. He couldn't believe how pathetic he'd been getting attached to Snape of all people. He might not hate him any more but that didn't mean he wanted to take him in for the rest of his childhood. Maybe he was as pathetic as Sirius probably thinks he is…

He would have been really happy to be living with Snape before all of this, but maybe it was better this way. He'd have been in that house thinking that Snape might have been happy to have him, but now he knew that he was only taking him because he had to, like he was a chore or something.

He called for Hedwig who was eyeing the cage he'd brought with distaste. Obviously, she quite liked being at Hogwarts over the holidays too. "Come on, Hedwig, it's only for a couple of weeks." Wait, it was for a couple of weeks, then school started again. He just had to get through living with Snape for a few weeks then he wouldn't even have to go back for a whole year!

It wasn't as if he didn't like Snape. He was all right, but that was what made it worse. Snape had to go move into this house with tons of wards to look after some kid he gave up his summer for and he didn't even want to. Part of him almost wished he had let Sirius and Remus kill Pettigrew. At least then he'd get to live with someone who actually wanted him.

"Hedwig!"

Finally, Hedwig flew down from the rafters, giving him a baleful glare. "It's not for long," Harry reassured her before shutting the cage door and carrying her back to Snape's quarters.

It wasn't long before Snape arrived and came to find him.

"You've finished packing?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you been told what's going on tomorrow?"

"No, sir."

Snape's eyes narrowed in irritation. "The headmaster will take you to the station and you will get on the Hogwarts Express. I will meet you in the third carriage and I will apparate us both to my house before it leaves." Snape looked pretty ticked off but he supposed it must be a massive inconvenience.

"Potter!" Snape hissed suddenly and Harry looked up in surprise.

"Yeah? I mean, yes, sir?"

"Whatever it was that upset you before, it is over. There is no list or decision over your head. You will be living in my house and I will not have you behaving like this, defying me–"

"I'm not doing anything!" Harry answered back furiously. Snape couldn't go round telling him off for being polite.

"You know exactly what you're doing and I've had enough of it."

"I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not breaking any of your rules."

Snape looked furious before slamming Harry's own bedroom door open with a particularly violent flick of his wand. "Bed, now. Get out of my sight."

S.S.

Irritating little brat, Severus seethed. He was no closer to figuring out what was wrong with the boy either, but Harry certainly was taking whatever it was out on him. He had expected his ridiculous attitude to dissipate when the decision was taken out of his hands and with the disappearance of the list, but he was quite obviously still unhappy. He had not thought that he would take living with him quite this badly. He'd known it wouldn't be anywhere near ideal for either of them but recently they had been getting on well enough.

There were only two options, live with Harry as he was or find out what was wrong with him. Severus knew exactly which one he would rather and he was nothing if not determined.

---

Harry was usually far easier to read. If he didn't know the boy he'd think he was disinterested in his surroundings. "It's a nice place, sir," was the only comment he offered when he entered the house.

No doubt some habit of politeness he had picked up from his relatives. He couldn't be talking about Spinner's End, that much was certain. Worn was how Severus would have described it; the carpets were old and discoloured, the sofas looked tired and decrepit. It did not have the makings of a warm and happy home. It had been, for Severus, rather the opposite.

He could tell that the boy had questions as his gaze lingered over the muggle appliances. He listened as Snape steered him upstairs and showed him his room, Severus' own as a child, and gave a muttered thanks.

"There wasn't time to prepare the room for your arrival. I'll do it now, shall I?" Severus asked in his own version of overly polite conversation.

"You don't have to. It's fine, thanks."

"It's no trouble, Mr. Potter." He was intrigued to see that Harry still disliked the formality.

He wasn't particularly skilled at decorating spells but a change of colour was all that he required and with a lazy flick of his wand the wallpaper was a deep, Slytherin green. He repeated the gesture over the bedspread giving it a silvery colour and nodded in approval.

Harry grimaced at the colours but remained silent.

"You don't approve?"

"It's great, sir."

"You're forgetting something," Severus announced as Harry began unpacking.

"What, sir?" The boy was attempting to remain polite but Severus was satisfied to note the irritation seeping into his voice.

"`What Sir` indeed. I have a room full of cauldrons that need scrubbing. I believe I told you that your punishment stood."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, resigned. He stopped unpacking and made to go downstairs. Severus waited for him to reach the staircase before calling out to him.

"When you're finished that you can start on your lines."

"What lines?" Harry asked, his façade dropping slightly and Severus felt a small surge of satisfaction that he could goad Harry into being more himself at least through anger.

"You've been extremely trying these past few days, Mr. Potter, and you've failed to follow my instructions countless times. Doubtless you thought you could get away with it if you weren't going to be living with me but that is not the case now is it?"

Harry looked positively furious, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Fine, sir," he said through gritted teeth.

"What are you waiting for, boy?" He took especial care with the last word. Harry winced but made no move to correct him. Severus didn't know if he truly expected he would at this stage. "Go."

It was a strange thought that it was a step in the right direction for the boy to be slamming doors in anger. He'd get an answer from him before long.

---

Severus rushed in as soon as he'd heard him shout. He had suspected that he would become more irritated by his scar as time went on and he wasn't wrong. The boy was breathing heavily, clutching his forehead whilst trying to get up out of his bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed at him. "Sit down." He guided him roughly back to the bed.

"Snape! Voldemort he– I saw Wormtail and there was this old man–"

"Stop."

"No, it's important."

"Take a breath," he ordered. He quickly summoned a flannel and dampened it. "Move your hand."

"I need to tell you–" Harry continued to babble, ignoring his instructions and holding his hand up to his head automatically, as if that could dampen the pain.

"And I will listen after you take a breath, calm down and move your hand."

He applied the flannel holding it in place firmly and gestured with his other hand for Harry to speak.

"I saw Wormtail and sort of Volde–"

"The Dark Lord."

"Yeah, but he was odd. They were talking about some woman they'd killed and they have a plan or something… And there was this old muggle and he was listening and then this massive snake came and they killed him!" Harry said in a rush as if he was worried he'd miss something or forget. Severus knew better than to assume the boy was dreaming and tried to make sense of what Harry had seen.

"Can you remember what they were discussing?"

"Yeah, about the woman, Martha or something. They killed her but she'd told them stuff." Harry's breathing was starting to slow down now and Severus was reassured that he wouldn't be dealing with an adolescent panic attack.

"You said they had a plan, what was it?"

Harry opened his mouth, then hesitated. "Uh, um. I'm not sure."

"You're not sure," Severus repeated, raising an eyebrow. Harry winced as Severus pulled the cloth away from his scar, but he merely re-moistened the cloth and folded it so that the cooler side was touching his head.

"No."

He could tell he was lying even without looking into his eyes. "Do you have any idea how important this is? Do not hide things from me," he said in his most menacing voice.

Harry took a breath and looked away guiltily. "They might have said something about killing me, I guess." If he thought that by saying it quietly that it would dampen Severus' anger, he was much mistaken.

"You imbecile!" he shouted, standing up and looming over the child. He tried to calm down as he caught sight of the paleness of Harry's face and the way his hand shot up to his head. He picked the cloth back up, irritably pushing Harry's hand away from his head and held the cloth in place, continuing to snarl with only a touch less anger. "I thought you'd had moments of stupidity before but this– Don't you dare hide things like that from me again or you will regret it."

"All right."

"What did they say?"

"Something about not being able to get to me at the Quidditch World cup and that's all I can remember."

"Trust you to remember something about quidditch. We'll discuss this more in the morning. This pain reliever has a sleeping draught mixed in, so expect to feel drowsy." He levitated the bottle onto Harry's lap.

"I don't think I need it, thanks." Harry leaned over to put it on his night stand and Severus was reminded that despite the unusual events of that night he had every intention of resuming his previous behaviour.

"I can see that you need it. Your scar is inflamed."

"I've got this," Harry said, holding the cloth.

"Drink the potion!" Severus snapped.

"I don't want to drink it."

"I will not have you defy me at every turn, Potter, so I suggest you shut up and drink the potion unless you want to spend every day of every summer holiday you spend here writing lines and scrubbing cauldrons."

He watched Harry raise the bottle to his lips and drain the bottle. The moment it was empty he summoned it from his grasp and strode out of the room.

H.P.

Harry held the potion in his mouth until he was sure Snape had gone, then spat it into the bin. He didn't want to sleep. He'd just woken up from a vision and he had no intention of doing that twice in one night.

Snape was angry with him, that much he was certain of. He was always frustrated with him as it was, but he seemed to be really angry at him now. He was almost the same as when he had hated him, except this time it was worse because he knew him now. He definitely knew who he was hating now. He didn't want Snape to hate him; he just wished he'd never given him that list.

"I do not know what to do with you." Harry looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway. "I have tried speaking to you and I've tried disciplining you and I cannot get through to you." He studied Harry for a moment. "You're not asleep?"

"I spat it out."

Snape said nothing and shut the door.

---

Harry was more than a little apprehensive as he came down the stairs the following morning and dropped into the chair. Snape pushed a bowl of cereal towards him, opened his paper and promptly disappeared behind it. Was he going to just say nothing about last night? He was probably just letting him stew before making him scrub cauldrons all morning again.

"Your behaviour last night was unacceptable," Snape snarled angrily when Harry had finished eating.

"I said I didn't want it," Harry said, not capable of stopping himself responding to Snape's tone.

Snape strode around the table to loom over him in the same intimidating way he did in class. "Is it too difficult for precious Potter to follow simple instructions?" Harry hated the way he said his name. He could hear the hatred and the loathing that Snape claimed he no longer felt. "I was right about you all along, the little celebrity," he drew out the word so it was almost a hiss, "is far too good to live in a house like this. Is that what it is Mr. Potter? Expecting a mansion were you?"

"No! What are you talking about?" Harry felt his face drain of colour. This was the same Snape he'd argued with in class a million times but it was so much worse when it came from someone you'd grown to quite like.

"That can't be it… no…" Snape said in mock thought. "Is it that there weren't enough adoring fans begging to take you in? Thought you could do better, hmm?"

"Stop it!" Harry said, pushing himself away from the table, away from Snape.

"The arrogance, just like your father."

"SHUT UP! You weren't on the list, all right? I don't know why I wanted you to be. I don't want to live with you, I HATE you."

S.S.

"There it is," Snape commented under his breath without satisfaction and a moment later he heard a door slam shut from the floor above.

---

"That scene would have been entirely unnecessary had you spoken with me the numerous times I asked you to," Severus commented, leaning on the doorjamb of Harry's room, watching impassively as Harry threw the few clothes he'd unpacked back into his trunk. At his words Harry spun around, his mouth hanging almost comically open as he grasped that Snape had only been acting.

"That– you were just–" he spluttered. "You can't do that!"

"I made it clear that this couldn't continue," Snape responded unapologetically.

"I wasn't doing anything."

"You were being disrespectful."

"No, I wasn't. I was being polite," Harry replied furiously.

"You were behaving out of anger and that is not respect."

"I wasn't angry at you, not until you kept going on at me to talk and then downstairs," Harry said, waving his hand to indicate the row they'd had in the kitchen.

"I am not a fool, Harry, do not treat me as such," Severus said, his tone menacing.

"I wasn't angry," Harry insisted, raising his voice. "I can't be angry at you for not wanting to take me in. I'm nothing to do with you."

"You may not want to be angry, but you are," Snape cut across him.

"I'm not."

"Then explain."

"I thought... I just assumed, for some reason, that I was going with you and obviously you didn't want to take me in." Harry cut himself off with a shake of the head. "It's pathetic, I don't want to talk about it," he said avoiding Severus' eyes.

"Whatever your feelings on the matter, I assure you they're worth voicing." And he certainly wasn't going anywhere until he did.

Harry clearly knew that there was no going back. "I was obviously too comfortable."

Severus regarded him for a moment. It was strange enough to consider that the boy had wanted to live with him, but then perhaps it was normal of a child who was somewhat neglected. He had no idea what a poor guardian Severus made. He considered his words carefully. He would not lie any longer; he wanted honesty from Harry and he'd gotten it, finally.

"I did not want this situation," he began slowly. "I did not want to be your guardian. I do not want to be your guardian."

"I know. You don't have to go on about it!"

"Be quiet. As I was saying, I do not want to be your guardian because I do not know how to be one. I had hoped that you would have the luxury of a safe home with someone able to care for you adequately. Not to mention that should the Dark Lord return I will be in close contact with him. I could be killed and you would need to be moved. I will be preoccupied and distracted and unable to look after you as others would."

"I'm not five, I don't need looking after."

"That is precisely what you need and it is exactly why I took you from those muggles," Severus snapped back at him.

"You took me because Dumbledore told you to," Harry retorted.

"I say this because of your honesty only," Severus said, bracing himself. It no longer made sense to lie. "I took you without the knowledge of the headmaster." He paused allowing the information to sink in before continuing. "I only took you in for the summer because it was my own doing that there was nowhere for you. I assure you had it been the headmaster's idea, I would have refused you." When he finished, Harry's face was screwed up in a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Why did you get me? You hated me!"

"I had heard that you were not being treated adequately and I went to see for myself." Severus was not quite ready to be that honest with the child.

"Since when did you care?"

"I do not take kindly to children being mistreated."

"Dumbledore told you." It was not a question so Severus felt no need to respond. "So, what? I'm here now because no one else will have me and it's your own fault I need somewhere to stay?" Harry asked harshly.

"You are here because it was this or your relatives and out of the two I consider myself the most capable to care for you."

"Well, I don't want to ruin your summers," Harry said, continuing to throw his clothes haphazardly into his trunk, as if Severus would actually allow him to leave. Severus drew in a breath knowing full well what the boy wanted to hear.

"You aren't going anywhere. You would have been made safe with your relatives but I want you to have more than physical safety." Severus cut himself off, his speech turning businesslike and snappish. "You are more than welcome here. You are not displeasing company when you aren't feigning politeness." The words were spoken reluctantly but with sincerity and Harry hesitated slightly.

Snape felt it necessary to clarify slightly. "Neither do I consider you a burden. Is there anything else?"

"Why didn't you tell me that is was you? You made out like it was all Dumbledore for ages."

"Because I did not want you to know and you would not have wanted to know."

"You were never going to tell me then?"

"It makes no difference how this came to be." It was quite obvious that his response wasn't what Harry wanted to hear.

"It does to me!"

"If you had known the headmaster wanted to leave you with your relatives how would that have made you feel?"

"It doesn't matter, it's the truth!"

"Of course it matters, you imbecile."

"If I knew it was you I wouldn't have thought Dumbledore was forcing you to take me again, would I?" Harry insisted stubbornly. "I'm guessing Dumbledore had something to do with the whole list thing not working out. You said my clothes came from the school's money and that Dumbledore made you get me."

"Perhaps I made a mistake being honest with you."

"No!" Harry insisted with such passion that Severus was hard pressed not to smirk.

"Is there anything else that needs clearing up?" Severus asked and watched as Harry considered his question.

"At first you said when I got put with someone that it'd be permanent, but the other day you said this was temporary."

Severus almost sighed. He'd really gone the wrong way about the whole situation. "I believed that I could persuade some of those on the list to take you, given more time. It was the time constraint that forced my hand. I was going to suggest that option later but I didn't want to get your hopes up."

"I thought it was because you didn't want me here." 

"I would rather you had something better, but you aren't unwanted here," he reaffirmed.

Snape made to leave and Harry found himself calling out to him. "I didn't realise it would bother you, the whole polite thing."

"I thought I'd made it quite clear that it was bothering me."

"I knew you were annoyed but I thought that was because I wouldn't talk to you about all that stuff."

"You weren't being yourself and I cannot take care of you if you're hiding things from me. For future reference then, Potter, it bothers me."

"Harry."

Snape gave a nod of approval and Harry could have sworn Snape smiled.

 

H.P.

Harry ventured downstairs, keen to explore Snape's house. It was a strange thought that he was in the Potions Master's home, not just where he lived in the castle but his actual home. It wasn't exactly what he expected, Snape had been right about that earlier, not because he wanted to live in some massive manor house or anything, but he couldn't picture Snape, Head of Slytherin, living in a place like this. Like what's Snape doing with a toaster? He had muggle stuff all over his house.

"Stop gawping at the kitchen. It's not the first time you've seen one," Snape said irritably, moving past him to hover the dishes into the sink.

"You've got muggle stuff. Everything's normal here." He thought all wizarding families lived in houses as magical as the Burrow. This place was ordinary, well, not wizardly.

"Normal?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You can't even tell a wizard lives here," Harry said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

"Ah, normal," Snape replied in an irritatingly knowing voice.

"What?" Harry asked defensively.

"I'd think carefully before describing wizards as 'abnormal', Harry."

"I didn't mean that." How was it Snape managed to twist anything he said to make it sound bad?

"I'm aware of what you meant."

"I just didn't think you'd live in a house like this," Harry said, trying to get the conversation back on track before realising that he'd sounded sort of rude.

"I do not." Harry pulled a face and Snape rolled his eyes. "I don't usually live here," he clarified.

"Oh…" He wanted to ask the obvious question but looking at Snape's face he decided he didn't actually want to know that much. His curiosity must have shown on his face because Snape elaborated slightly.

"I inherited this house."

From wizards? Why would any wizard have a house like this? Unless…

"Uh, does that mean that… were your parents muggles?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"My mother was a witch." The accompanying glare led Harry to believe that any follow up questions about the purity of Snape's blood were certainly not welcome.

"Oh." Harry cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'll be working in the lab this morning."

Snape swept out the room leaving Harry to his own devices. Harry looked around again at the shabby looking furniture. It was a bit sad really that this was Snape's home. He wasn't as bright as Hermione but he could see that Snape didn't really like the house or talking about it. He would hate to have to go back to the Dursleys' house, even if they weren't in it. That would definitely improve the place but it would still be pretty rubbish. It occurred to Harry that Snape must be pretty committed to looking after him if he was making a sacrifice like that.

S.S.

Snape sighed. He hadn't wanted to discuss this house or his past with the boy; he did not particularly want to discuss it with anybody. He did not enjoy his own childhood here and he'd never anticipated that a time would come when he'd bring a child here, of all places, to give them something better. The idea was laughable.

---

"I trust you've done more than play with that snitch this morning," Severus commented, shutting the basement door behind him. He'd had a productive day in the lab, and he suspected that if his project progressed at the rate it was going there was some hope that he would succeed before the Dark Lord's return.

"What was I supposed to do?" Harry replied, leaning forward to grab the snitch before it flew towards Severus.

"You can do as you please. I'd prefer it if you found a pastime that didn't have the potential for an idiotic accident."

"I won't break anything and I don't have anything to do now that I'm not allowed out."

"I didn't say you weren't allowed out, you imbecile," Severus snapped, wondering how he could have come to that conclusion. What did the boy think? That he would keep him trapped inside this poor excuse for a home?

"What's the point in all the wards if I'm allowed out?" 

"The point is to keep you alive should the Dark Lord return you ungrateful–" Severus gritted his teeth against further insults.

"I know that–" Harry snarled back at him and Severus attempted to gather what little patience he had for ridiculous questions and interrupted coolly.

"There is minimal danger for now, and while that remains the case there is no reason that with adequate protection you cannot go out in public. What is important is you have a house that is secret and gives you the utmost protection so that when the Dark Lord returns you are kept safe if, or most likely when, he realises that you are no longer with your relatives."

"Right, so I can go out?" Harry asked, his demeanour brightening. "I thought I'd have to wait for the World Cup."

"I take it that's not an expression," Severus replied, scowling.

"No, Ron's Dad got tickets for the Quidditch World Cup and they invited me so… I said I'd go..." If the child thought he'd keep him trapped inside the house on a daily basis why did he think he could go to an event like the Quidditch World Cup? How that ridiculous boy's mind works was a complete mystery.

"You said you'd go? You did not ask, you do not think!"

"What does it matter if I go stay with the Weasleys? I've been before in the summer."

"Think, Potter– do not correct me," he spat when Harry opened his mouth to stubbornly repeat 'Harry'.

"I suppose they think I'm at the Dursleys' now."

"It must be clear to everyone that you've lived with the Dursleys for part of this summer. The Dark Lord must believe for as long as possible that you are protected by your mother's wards."

"I'm not asking to stay with them for the rest of the holidays. I'm not stupid!"

"You could have fooled me," Severus muttered. "You do not make these decisions. You would have asked your aunt and uncle, yes?"

Harry shrugged before answering carelessly. "Well, yeah, but I would have gone anyway. The only reason they'd want me to stay is to make me miserable."

Severus exhaled tiredly before sitting himself in the chair opposite Harry's. "Why would I want you to stay?"

"You're not letting me go?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Don't tempt me. Answer the question."

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "You wouldn't, you'd rather I went away for a bit."

Severus ignored his failed attempt at answering the question. "Hypothetically, why would I say no?"

"You're just asking me to come up with a reason that I can't go," Harry threw out suspiciously.

"I do not need your assistance with that," he growled angrily. "I am attempting to keep you safe."

"I will be safe! He's not back now and last night I saw him say he couldn't get to me at the World Cup!" Of course the only thing the boy would remember clearly about the vision was the fact that it was perfectly safe for him to attend the Quidditch World Cup.

"It is more complicated than that. There are people watching. Not all the Death Eaters were sent to prison, and what they see, the Dark Lord will know. They must believe you are at your relative's home for the remainder of the summer."

"It's for a few days–"

"No, it would be for how long I say. You seem to forget what we just established; I am your guardian."

"I know that."

"No, I don't think you do. I should have realised sooner," Severus muttered to himself.

"Realised what?"

"You do not comprehend what a guardian is."

"Stop making out like I'm an idiot."

"This has nothing to do with whatever… limited mental capacity you possess. It seems to me that considering you haven't had an appropriate example of what a guardian should be that you don't know what to expect."

"Well, you were my guardian before and you're my guardian now."

"No, as your teacher, I begrudgingly allowed you in my home this summer. Now, I've made a commitment to be your guardian. It isn't the same situation at all."

H.P.

"Are you saying I can't go then?" Harry asked.

"I'm saying that it is my decision to make and I will consider it because I am your guardian," Snape snapped.

"That's it?" He wasn't even going to say that he couldn't go. He was going to drag it out for as long as possible. What was he going to say to Ron? Sorry I said I could go to the Quidditch World Cup but actually I'd rather not? He could not miss this; he wouldn't miss it with the Dursleys and he wasn't about to miss it now.

"No, go and get your broom," Snape demanded.

"You're not going to take it away?"

"No, I'm not taking your damned broom! I just said that you didn't have to stay indoors all day." Snape looked like he was holding back from finishing that sentence with 'you little twit'.

"Oh."

---

Harry couldn't help flattening his hair over his forehead even though he knew his glamour was covering his scar.

"I didn't even know there were places like this," Harry said, slightly awestruck as he watched all the people zooming around the public pitches.

"It's one of very few in the country. They're difficult to hide from muggles and most wizarding families tend to have their own space."

"This is so cool! Thanks Prof–"

Snape made a hissing noise and whirled around to face Harry, speaking in a low tone. "I told you to be careful. Stick to 'sir', Merlin knows you've had enough practise over the last few days."

"Right, I mean thank you, sir."

"Just go," Snape said, going to sit on the benches at the edge of the pitch.

S.S.

At least the child was happy. Harry chased after his practise snitch with unmatched speed. The broom stood out but the pitch was no where near Spinner's End and he wasn't the only child with an over-priced broom. He didn't know how to keep the boy entertained while he was in the house but at least this was an option. A boy of his age needed exercise; he couldn't keep him in the house all day.

He couldn't help but replay their previous conversation. Harry didn't understand what having a guardian was about, but what was worse was that though he himself had an idea of what a guardian should give, he knew he didn't have the ability to offer all that a child needed.

He couldn't discuss it with Harry until he knew what he was going to bring and he couldn't afford to confuse him or cause him stress when things were getting better between the two of them and yet he didn't want to continue making the mistake of assuming that Harry knew the appropriate way to behave. What had he gotten himself into? Spying, dark magic, potions... you knew where you were with them at least.

That evening, Severus flooed to the castle and picked up the post from the table in his quarters and opened it quickly with his wand. He instantly recognised the handwriting on the parchment and it did not bode well.

There weren't many reasons that Lucius Malfoy would write to him. Of course he kept in contact in order to ensure he had someone at the school on Draco's side. Should the boy's intelligence fail him, Lucius would rely on his ability to network to ensure his son's success. No doubt one of Lucius' contacts at the ministry would have made him aware of Potter's stay in the castle.

Severus,

It has been too long, old friend, since we have spoken. I extend an invitation to Malfoy Manor…

Severus cursed and stopped reading. He had hoped at least that written correspondence would suffice if Lucius took an interest; it would be infinitely more difficult to lie to his face. Skilled as he was in the art of deceit it had been a fair amount of time since he'd needed to use such skills and whatever lie he told Lucius would have to hold to the Dark Lord's questioning when he returned. This would require a good deal more thought then a few cleverly written missives.

It was fortunate at least that Harry was no longer in the castle. Even he had heard of Lucius' more personal grudge against the child – the man really had no subtlety. If the Ministry wasn't so absolutely reliant on him for financial investment it would be more than evident that he had been loyal to the Dark Lord's cause.

Severus summoned an elf and sent a note to the headmaster requesting a meeting the next day. He would have to see him about arranging Harry's transportation to that blasted World Cup anyway…

---

"Bring up the World Cup again and you definitely will not be going."

"I was just saying that it's soon-" Harry said when Severus went back to his notes.

If he didn't hear the word 'Quidditch' for the rest of the summer it would be too soon. He wasn't about to announce that he had thought of a way to get him there for a couple of nights without revealing his living situation or putting him in any danger until he had the details finalised first, so he would now have to put up with Harry continuously asking about the damned quidditch match.

"I know when it is; I read the prophet every morning." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry yawn for the third time that evening. "It's late. Go to bed."

"I'm not tired–"

"It's been a long day, so if you could try not to lie..." He made a note in the margin to experiment with adding bees wings to the potion the next morning.

"It's not that late–" Harry tried, settling back into the sofa.

Severus sighed and put down his quill. He wasn't having the boy sleeping down here, no matter how much he protested that he didn't want to go to bed. "I highly doubt that you will have another vision tonight."

"How do you know?"

"I don't know, but as I've told you before, your scar affects you when the Dark Lord feels strong emotion. He's a wizard without a body being aided only by a man who spent twelve years as a rat. There are a limited number of great successes he can have," Severus said. He realised this is most likely one of those moments where as a guardian he was supposed to impart some sort of advice or support. "It is unlikely to happen again so soon, but it most likely will in the future. You should not fear sleep."

"I'm not scared," Harry insisted, clearly offended. "It's just the idea of seeing Voldemort kill people doesn't make me want to go to sleep until I really have to."

"You wouldn't be as tired now if you had swallowed the potion last night."

"I just saw Voldemort kill–"

"The Dark Lord."

"I'm not calling him that. I wasn't about to go back to sleep again after I'd just seen Him kill someone."

"You would not have dreamed. It was a dreamless sleep combined with a pain reliever."

"I don't see why it's a big deal–"

"You're my responsibility and I'm trying to look after you."

"I don't need looking after. I'm not a child."

"You're acting like a child," Severus bit out in frustration. "I'm meeting with the headmaster tomorrow morning, is there anything you'd like me to ask him?"

"Um, no. Are you going to tell him about last night?"

"I owled him this morning concerning your vision. He's not overly concerned so you shouldn't be either. He also agreed that this wouldn't be a frequent occurrence."

"All right, all right. 'Night then," Harry said not looking thrilled with the idea of going up but at least relenting.

"Goodnight."

---

Severus flooed to Hogwarts the following morning surprised that he would have so much to discuss after having Harry in his sole care for only one day.

"Ah, Severus, I trust everything is well with you and Harry?"

"Potter wants to go to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys," Severus stated.

"Straight to the point as usual. Lemon drop?" the headmaster offered innocently from behind his desk.

"No," Severus replied, biting back his impatience.

"You are his guardian Severus. You do not need me to grant him permission."

"I am not a fool. I merely wish to ask you to communicate to the Weasleys that you will organise his transportation to their home and back."

"Ah, yes, of course," he replied understanding instantly. "How long will he be with the Weasleys?"

"One night only. I want to ensure that it appears that Potter is under his mother's protection for as long as it is possible," Severus clarified. "Lucius wishes to see me."

The headmaster took a moment to take in the abrupt topic change before responding. "I know you do not need me to remind you that this situation needs to be handled delicately."

"Obviously. I just thought that you ought to be aware that it is clear Lucius is still watching and what he knows the Dark Lord will know. I do not believe he trusts me and knowing that Potter was in the castle with me will not look good to the Dark Lord when the time comes for me to resume my position."

"Have you considered the possibility of using this situation to our advantage?"

"If I believed it was possible to turn this in our favour I would have."

"It will be a considerable task for you to re-infiltrate the Dark Lord's ranks as it stands but with the previous living arrangements this summer becoming public knowledge it will be even more of a challenge. Perhaps if you were to appear to feed Lucius information concerning Harry he would be less likely to suspect you."

"If I give real information on Potter I could lead the Dark Lord and his followers right to him and to me! You would lose the boy and I would be unable to spy any longer."

"Voldemort would not suspect that you would take the child. It may be the case that you lead him to the conclusion that Harry is no longer under his mother's protection but that would not remain a secret for too long when the Dark Lord returns."

"And yet we do not know for certain that it is imminent!"

"We know that it is highly likely that it will be soon and we would be foolish not to act on any information that gives us an advantage." He rearranged the papers on his desk for a moment before looking at Snape over his interlaced fingers and saying more calmly. "I understand your concerns but I am thinking of the long term and this would be the best course of action."

"Fine. I will go as far as I think is acceptable, however," Severus said, standing to leave.

The headmaster nodded. "If I could suggest that this isn't the type of situation that Harry needs to be aware of…"

"Where my guardianship of Harry is concerned you will excuse me if I do not take the advice of a man who would have him in the dubious care of a pair of muggles who despise him."

"I was trying to protect him."

"As am I."

 

H.P.

The Quidditch World Cup was in two days and Snape still hadn't said if he could go or not. What was he supposed to write to Ron?

Ron,

I'll probably see you in a couple of days but I actually might not fancy seeing the Quidditch World Cup final.

Best,

Harry

There was no way the Weasleys would even care if the Dursleys said no… Maybe he could tell Snape that he had to go because the Weasleys just wouldn't believe that he couldn't go, or that he wouldn't want to. Then again, Snape did ban him from saying the words `quidditch`, `world` and `cup` yesterday and that was a massive over-reaction considering he'd only mentioned it in passing twice during dinner.

Harry sucked on the end of his quill and sighed in frustration. Why wasn't Snape telling him anything? He couldn't send his letter without knowing and he couldn't not write to Ron. Snape was the one who wanted him to keep the fact that he was living with him a secret but in two days time Ron and his parents would come to collect him from the Dursleys and they were going to wonder why he wasn't there.

"I'm writing to Ron, sir," Harry called out, craning his neck to see behind him as Snape walked through the living room towards the kitchen.

"Subtle, Harry. And you need not 'sir' me every time you address me," Snape said, barely stopping to pay him any attention.

"So…?" Harry asked, his quill poised theatrically on the parchment.

"After dinner. There are a few things I'd like to discuss with you."

"You've decided? You can just tell me then–" Harry said excitedly, leaning over the back of the sofa.

"I'm not getting into it now; I'd like to eat at some point this evening. Have some patience," he added, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Harry's heart sank. That just meant Snape wanted to eat before getting into an argument. "So it's a no, then?"

Snape shot him a glare before continuing into the kitchen but remained silent.

"Fine, I'll help," Harry offered, getting up to follow Snape into the kitchen. The quicker dinner was over, the sooner he'd know.

"It would take twice as long with you in the way so I believe that would be counter-productive for the both of us."

"I can cook," Harry insisted.

"Not by magic you can't."

"Fine, I'll just sit and wait here then," Harry said, dropping heavily back onto the sofa.

Snape disappeared into the kitchen but reappeared abruptly after a few moments. "Get in here then, and not a word about this blasted World Cup."

S.S.

"I trust you've been able to keep yourself entertained today?"

"I guess so. I built a tower with my exploding snap cards," Harry replied, making a grab for the spinach before he could cut it up.

"I put your school books for next year on your desk this morning," he said, raising an eyebrow and snatching the spinach back.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for that. Do you want me to…" Severus sent him a frustrated look. The child was going to ask if he had to pay rent one of these days. "No, right… you want to pay," Harry said, looking rather put out.

Severus had no intention of getting into a conversation about money with the boy again so made no comment and let him continue uninterrupted. "I started my letter to Ron but I couldn't finish it..."

"Massively productive day you've had," Severus remarked dryly, refusing to acknowledge the hint about the World Cup.

"I've probably done more work than Hermione this summer with all those extra classes and you checking my homework."

"I doubt that, Harry. I take it you'd like to go flying again?"

Severus inwardly commended himself on his patience. He was adamant that he would not snap at the boy before he got a chance to have a sensible talk with him and he was not unaware that Harry was making some effort not to mention the World Cup.

"What, tomorrow?" 

"This evening," Severus clarified. At least this way he wouldn't have to worry about the boy flying in the heat or getting dehydrated or sunburnt and all the other ridiculous things he had to consider.

"Really? Yeah, great!" Harry replied, obviously somewhat cheered by the prospect.

"I won't be taking you there every day. I don't want people taking too much of an interest in either of us," Severus warned sternly. The last thing he wanted was people asking them questions. Harry could much too easily forget himself and then the glamour would be worse than useless.

Severus had considered the headmaster's point. It would be beneficial in terms of his spying to put the possibility of Harry having been moved into the minds of his enemy. It certainly would give him an advantage, which he would desperately need. Not only was he now in a position where his years of employ under Albus at Hogwarts made him look like a traitor, but having taken Potter in… It would be incredibly difficult to explain it all away and resume his position as a spy, and it was necessary, imperative even, that he spy on the Dark Lord the moment he returns. They needed any and every advantage they could get, especially if Harry's dream was accurate and he was plotting to get his hands on the child.

The problem would of course be Harry's reaction. The very idea of following through with the plan and not telling the boy was ludicrous. He certainly would know where the information came from and he would not betray Harry like that, not behind his back.

It was clear that Harry had reached the end of his patience halfway through dinner but by that time Severus believed that he had in fact had enough time to consider both topics of conversation fully, so decided to put the child out of his misery.

"There is no need to inform Mr. Weasley that any of your plans have changed," he began, putting his fork down and giving Harry his full attention. "You will be going to see the World Cup, but for one night only. I don't care how long the match goes on for or how long you've been invited for."

He could tell that Harry was irritated by the restriction but wisely knew not to bother fighting him on that particular point, being far too thrilled that he was in fact going to see the match.

"Yes! You're actually letting me go?" Harry said, almost leaping out of his seat in his excitement. "So what, am I going to the Dursleys to be picked up?" Harry asked, displaying some of the poorest logical reasoning that Severus had seen in some time.

"Of course not. The headmaster has informed the Weasleys that he will be arranging your transportation so they will not be picking you up at all," Severus replied tactfully, only finishing with `you imbecile` in his head.

"Right. So, how am I getting there then?" Harry asked grinning widely, clearly more relaxed knowing that he was allowed to go.

"I'm going to take you, acting as if on the headmaster's request."

"That's going to look a bit weird."

"You have a problem with the arrangement?"

"No, I'm just saying it'll look odd having you bring me to the Weasleys."

"It will be as if on request from the headmaster and I will not perform the task with good grace. As for why me, as you had to live with me in the castle, presumably I'm the only teacher with enough spare time to run errands for the Boy-Who-Lived."

"All right…" Harry replied giving him a mild glare for the use of the title. "So, that's it then, I'm going to the World Cup!"

H.P.

"There is something else I'd like to discuss with you."

"I've not done something have I? This isn't about me not reading those books is it?"

Snape scowled and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'ridiculous child' under his breath before fixing him with a firm stare. "I'm going to make this very clear for you, what I do or will do in my role as a spy does not concern you. I will tell you nothing and you will not ask. However, in the interests of… trust, what little we may have, there is something I'd like to mention." Snape seemed to be considering his words carefully and Harry, interest piqued, leaned forward.

"I believe you're somewhat acquainted with Lucius Malfoy?"

"That's one way of putting it," Harry commented, remembering somewhat fondly the moment he freed Dobby from his employ, and then even more fondly when Malfoy realised he was holding his dirty sock.

"He has taken an interest in your whereabouts this summer. Your presence at the school was not unnoticed at the ministry and, as you may know, the Malfoys are a well-connected family."

"Yeah, they're rich and powerful. It's all Malfoy goes on about when he's not spewing that pureblood rubbish–"

"Enough," Snape interrupted before he could get a decent tirade against the younger Malfoy going. "Lucius has come to me regarding information about you, why you were at the castle and anything I may have learned during your stay."

"Isn't that going to look suspicious if he's going round asking people about me?"

"He's not 'going round asking people', Harry. I'm no stranger to the Malfoys."

"You're mates with the Malfoys?" Harry asked screwing his face up in disgust. It wouldn't have surprised him before this summer but seeing what Snape was really like… he couldn't see it. He'd bet anything Snape had never invited the Malfoys round here!

"Eloquently put."

"Give it a rest with that–"

"Watch your tone."

Harry ignored the admonishment. "So you're just going to have a chat with your mate Malfoy? What are you going to say about me, then?" Harry asked, not caring that he sounded rude.

Snape was obviously going out of his way not to react. "I intend to give him an idea of your home life–"

"What!" Harry unconsciously shoved himself back from the table.

"I am well aware that–"

"NO. You're not telling anyone about that, especially not the Malfoys. What are you going to do, sit around in his big, expensive mansion and laugh at the fact that I used to live in a cupboard? No."

What was Snape thinking? Harry was suddenly aware that at some point during his rant he'd stood up, but Snape, unusually, remained seated, and other than a look of mild frustration seemed quite calm, which only served to make him angrier. That's right, it was nothing to Snape if he was completely humiliated just because Snape needed something to tell Malfoy of all people.

"Yes, in general terms," Snape answered and Harry felt a swoop of sickness in his stomach. "I'm going to choose to ignore that phrase you just uttered. Say it again and you're grounded."

"I can't believe you're doing this. I can't believe I didn't think you'd do this." Did he have any idea what would happen, how people would look at him?

"Stop being hysterical. For a young man who believes he wasn't mistreated you're taking this fairly badly."

"Oh, right, so you want me to what, say I was mistreated? Tell you everything just so you can go and tell it all to the Malfoys?" Harry shouted, feeling rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

"You would have spoken to me otherwise?" Snape questioned harshly.

"I don't know. I'm not going to now, am I?"

"You would have considered confiding in me as opposed to Lupin or your godfather?" Snape said, his cool demeanour dissolving.

"Well, yeah, I suppose if I had to talk to someone I would have. Remus can be really– what?" Harry asked, catching sight of Snape's somewhat perturbed expression.

"I was not aware that you considered it an option," Snape said, regarding him thoughtfully.

"I wasn't actually planning on it. There's not a lot to say," Harry said, backtracking.

"Living in a cupboard until you're eleven is something that it is acceptable to have feelings about."

"I've already said I'm not talking about this with you," Harry stated loudly, fully remembering why he was arguing with Snape. "Not if you're just going to go and tell the Malfoys."

"Then I will not."

"What?"

"If you feel most willing to speak to me about your mistreatment by your relatives then I will not do anything that would make you feel…uncomfortable. Not if it is not absolutely necessary," Snape was speaking slowly as if the words or the decision were only just forming in his mind.

"So, what? I have to talk to you about the Dursleys or you'll go and tell Malfoy everything you know already?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"No, I am simply saying that I did not know that you would have considered confiding in me and I will not choose my role as a spy as a priority at this stage."

S.S.

He wasn't sure how well that statement had gone down. Trust this to be the moment that Harry keeps his opinion to himself.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "And, uh, what if I don't have anything to say?"

"You've never let that stop you from opening your mouth before now." Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing, waiting expectantly for an answer. "I cannot force you to speak to me but I… encourage…you to do so."

Harry visibly relaxed at his answer and dropped back into his seat at the table.

"So what are you going to do instead of telling them about the Dursleys?" he asked, fiddling with his fork. Severus resisted the urge to snap at him to stop.

"It will not be impossible for me to come up with something else to interest Lucius." No, it would be difficult and it would require a lot of thought but it would not be impossible.

"If it's that easy to act like you're still best mates then why were you going to tell him about the Dursleys?" Snape inwardly winced at the hurt that was evident in his tone, clearly that conversation was a terrible idea. The whole idea of betraying Harry's trust and privacy was a terrible idea. He wouldn't hesitate to trade them both for the child's protection in the future… but now? With minimal danger?

"It is not a case of merely fitting in. The headmaster believes that it is inevitable that when the Dark Lord returns he will find out that you have been moved and are no longer under your mother's protection. It would work in my favour as a spy to give him information that would draw him to that conclusion." He tried to keep his explanation simple to avoid Harry's persistent questioning.

"So Dumbledore told you to do it?" Harry said acting as if he'd solved some great mystery.

"Professor Dumbledore and do not be juvenile, Harry."

"I'm not being–"

"You wanted to go flying?"

"Yeah, but–"

"Come then, while there's still light." Harry didn't look impressed, and he was certainly stubborn enough to refuse. "We can continue this pointless discussion or you can go flying. It's up to you." Harry still looked mutinous. "You can still sulk while you're in the air."

"I'm not sulking."

"It was a mistake for me to suggest it," Snape conceded uncomfortably. Admitting he was wrong was unfamiliar territory but he did not want to lose whatever trust he had previously gained. Damn the headmaster and his plots.

---

Severus took great satisfaction at four o'clock in the morning on the day of the Quidditch World Cup in waking Harry up at that ungodly hour.

"Up!" Severus commanded banging loudly on Harry's door, receiving nothing but a mumbled groan from the other side.

Severus swung the door open, strode in and flicked on the lights causing Harry to groan and roll over in an effort to shield his eyes. "'s too light."

"Get up. I'm taking you in half an hour or you aren't going at all."

"Five min'ts…"

Severus sent a cascade of ice cold water onto Harry's head from the tip of his wand.

"Aaargh. What was that for?" Harry demanded, trying to dry his face and reach for his glasses at the same time. "It's not funny," he insisted when he got his glasses on and saw Severus' smirk.

"Breakfast in five minutes. Where's your bag?" Harry pointed across the room and then made to slump back on to his pillow but Severus yanked it out from under him before he made it and he landed with a heavy thump on the mattress.

"I'm up already!"

"Downstairs in five minutes," Severus repeated, throwing the pillow back at Harry who caught it before it hit him full in the face.

H.P.

Harry dressed at top speed and made it down to the kitchen in record time.

He nabbed a bit of toast while Snape cooked breakfast on the hob. "What are you going to do while I'm gone?"

"I imagine I'll find something to fill my time with in your absence."

"You're not going to talk to Malfoy, then?" Harry asked in between bites, hoping he didn't sound as worried as he felt.

"No, I won't be speaking to Lucius for a few days yet. What do you think are the chances of the Malfoys missing an event like the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Oh yeah, pretty unlikely, I guess."

"On that note," Snape said sternly, placing his plate in front of him. "Should you see Draco, do not speak to him."

"As if I would talk to Malfoy," Harry scoffed, stuffing a large piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Do not be difficult. It's likely that Lucius has told Draco about you living at the castle this summer, so if you come across him say nothing."

"What did you think I was going to do, wave him over and have a chat about how you like your eggs in the morning?" Harry asked after swallowing his mouthful. Snape really did take him for a complete idiot sometimes.

"Harry, look at me. I'm being entirely serious. Should he provoke you, and if he gets the chance do not doubt that he would goad you, say nothing. Do not retaliate, do not respond. Do not force me into a position where I need to cover up your errors."

"I won't say anything," Harry assured him.

S.S.

Severus handed Harry his bag but held the floo powder back for a moment. This was his last chance to impress upon Harry how important it was that he not slip up.

"Stay out of trouble. Do not draw any more attention to yourself."

"I haven't drawn attention to myself. Not since school finished at least; that was you drawing attention to me this summer," Harry said grinning.

"Try and keep a low profile. I'm not asking you to hide but there's no need to announce your presence," Severus continued as if Harry hadn't spoken.

"I'm just going to watch the quidditch with the Weasleys, Professor."

"And should they ask about your summer?"

"I'm with the Dursleys now," Harry answered promptly.

"And earlier, why were you with me?"

"Um… I don't know?" Harry said, hazarding a guess.

"Exactly, the headmaster didn't confide any more information to you, nor did he tell you his reasons. What was it like living with me?"

"Pretty up and down," Harry said with a shrug.

"And what was good about it?" Snape pressed.

"Uh…nothing."

"You spent some time with Lupin."

"Yeah, that."

"You had better take this seriously, or you won't be going anywhere, Potter! Do you want to stay here or do you want to go back to your relatives?" Severus hissed, losing his temper and seriously considering forbidding Harry from leaving.

"I get it, all right? I'm at the Dursleys now, I stayed with you before but it was as bad as it looked and you were horrible the whole time. I never found out anything more about why I was with you but I thought it was better with you because I could see Remus. I'm not stupid. I'll try not to talk about it."

"Your friends can be persistent and Miss Granger is sharp."

"I know. I won't tell them anything about what a delight you are, just try not to look like you like me too much when we get to the Weasleys," Harry said drily. If Severus wasn't so worried that he'd mess this up he would have been proud.

"Hilarious, Harry." Severus regarded him silently for a moment trying to convince himself that the child would take this as seriously as he'd hoped. "Floo to the headmaster's office. I'll be five minutes."

"You didn't have to 'Potter' me," Harry said, throwing the floo powder into the fire.

"Get used to it."

H.P.

"Ah, Harry, good morning." Dumbledore was looking as awake as ever for half four in the morning, putting his quill down and welcoming him. Harry was certain that on your average day he wasn't in his office this early but struggled to care that he'd put him out. Not after what he'd almost made Snape do.

"Sir," he replied formally, trying to look as if he wasn't embarrassed at having landed face first on the floor.

"I trust that you're looking forward to the quidditch this evening? I've heard it should be a spectacular event."

"I hope so, sir," Harry replied shortly, glancing towards the fire. He had no desire to speak to Dumbledore. He wanted him back with the Dursleys and he wanted Snape to tell the Malfoys all about his life with them. He was still angry at Snape for even bringing it up; how could he possibly have thought that he'd be okay with that?

"Professor Snape will be along directly. He's coming up from his quarters. You can sit, my boy."

"Sir," Harry repeated, just for something to say.

Harry spent an awkward three minutes trying not to stare at the door. He usually felt fairly relaxed in the headmaster's presence but now he couldn't imagine how that was possible. How could he trust him when he was always ruining things for him? He definitely didn't have his best interest in mind. Snape was much more on his side than Dumbledore.

Finally, there was a knock on the door and Harry stood up eagerly.

"Enter, Severus."

"Headmaster," Severus nodded, greeting the headmaster formally and holding the door open for Harry.

"Well, off you go, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly, as if he needed telling.

"What's Dumbledore doing up this early anyway?" Harry commented as soon as the door shut behind him.

"The habits of the headmaster are none of your concern, Potter. Get moving. Believe me, I've got better things to do with my time than act the personal bodyguard for the boy-who-lived."

"All right." Snape wasn't hesitating to get into character then…

"All right, rir! Watch yourself, Potter or Gryffindor will be in minus numbers at the start of term."

They walked in silence out of the castle, with Snape keeping two feet in front. It was obvious that Snape didn't want him to say anything and it probably was safer overall just to keep quiet. He began to wonder how he was getting to the Weasley's anyway.

Snape shoved an old hanger into Harry's hand before leaning towards him and speaking quietly. "Try not to pull that kicked puppy face when I insult you in front of your friends."

"I don't–" Harry began to hiss back before he felt a peculiar and unpleasant sensation like a cord pulling from his stomach. He tumbled spectacularly onto a familiar kitchen floor, very much aware that he was no better at this than floo travel.

"You could have warned me," Harry said, with more than a touch of annoyance, getting unsteadily to his feet. Snape sneered in return but was saved replying by Mrs. Weasley who immediately trapped Harry in a hug.

"Harry, dear, it's lovely to see you! Sit down, we're just having breakfast…"

"Thank you for bringing him," Mr. Weasley offered politely.

"I'll be here for him at the agreed time tomorrow." He sent a menacing glare to Harry. "Be ready, Potter."

 

H.P.

Harry was far too excited to be tired despite the early start. Even the monumentally long climb up some hill to the portkey didn't feel so arduous. It was relaxing to be amongst so much chatter and easy conversation for a change.

"So, uh, how's Sirius?" Ron asked in a lowered voice and Hermione cast a wary glance to check the others were at enough of a distance so as not to overhear.

"Uh, fine, I think. I've not seen him for a bit, not since I left Snape's. I've written to him though." Harry felt a pang of guilt where Sirius was concerned. Shouldn't he really be trying to spend more time with him? Or at least asking Snape if he can see him again this summer?

"At least something good came out of having to stay at with that greasy git," Ron said, neither noticing his moment of anxiety nor bothering to keep his voice low any longer.

"Yeah," Harry agreed blandly, looking down at the floor. It wasn't easy to lie to Ron and Hermione. Surely if they were trustworthy enough to know about Sirius then they must be trustworthy enough to know that he was living with Snape.

"Did we hear something about a greasy git?" one of the twins asked loudly before the other chimed in.

"We're not talking about Harry's good friend, dear Professor Snape are we? So, tell us, Harry, how was it living with old hook nose?"

"Uh, pretty horrible. Like class really."

"Ah, but you must have something to tell us. You've got the inside scoop! We'll get him back for giving you such a rotten summer, won't we George?"

"Uh, I–um, like what?" Harry asked stalling.

"You lived with him for weeks, right? Tell us, did he ever wash his hair?" Harry stared blankly. For one thing he'd actually no idea about Snape's hair washing habits, he tended to have other things on his mind, plus the whole greasy thing was just part of his Snape-ishness. For another, he could hardly go around badmouthing Snape. He'd know where people found it out from.

"He had his own bathroom. I didn't go around checking his hair all the time; I was trying to keep out of his way."

"Ah, so you probably wouldn't know if he actually owns a toothbrush either?"

"Well, I don't know for definite but–"

"There we have it. No evidence at all that Snape cleans his teeth or washes his hair, Snape's poor hygiene explained!"

Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. It seemed petty to go off on one about what Snape looked like. Fair enough he's a rotten teacher and he's a bully… or he was a bully. Still, it reminded him of the idea of his dad and Sirius picking on Snape and he didn't particularly appreciate it. It's not like he can help what he looks like. Maybe he could wash his hair, not that it'd make him a decent teacher but he was already sort of nice sometimes. Well, he was definitely trying to be less horrible which is pretty much the same thing. It was a start, at least.

"Stop pestering Harry about Professor Snape. I'm sure he doesn't want to talk about it," Hermione said, coming to his rescue and Harry let out his breath in relief.

"Yeah I don't really. I think I'd rather forget about it altogether."

"Are you okay back with your relatives, Harry?" Hermione asked, her expression one of utmost concern. Harry was irritated to find that it reminded him of the way Remus looked at him, like he was going to break or something.

"Same as, pretty much. So what have I missed here?"

S.S.

Loathe as he was to have to see the wolf again he stood back and nodded coldly as Lupin ineffectively brushed soot off of his already tattered robes. He struggled not to grimace as it landed on his living room carpet.

"You wanted to see me?" Lupin asked when he considered himself decent.

"However did you guess?' he replied drily. 'I have a request. Despite your poor attempts at keeping Potter safe I find myself in need of someone to mind him for an afternoon."

"I'm more than happy to take him again as long as I'm not working–"

"No, I want you to remain here with him while I'm gone," Severus said firmly. Harry would stay within the wards where he was protected and safe. He wouldn't have the boy– have Harry left in what he already considered questionable care.

"Wouldn't it be better if he came with me? I have a feeling Sirius isn't included in this 'request'."

"It would be better for Black if Potter came with you. The mutt's feelings on the matter do not interest me in the slightest. I'm his guardian, wolf. He stays here, you watch him and try not to do whatever it is that you do to upset him."

"It's rich of you to throw that in my face."

"Black will not step foot in this house again, nor in my quarters. Floo through from the castle."

"Hold on, Severus, while I've got you."

"Don't delude yourself into thinking that I have any interest in engaging in small talk, least of all with you, Lupin."

"It's actually quite important. You found out why Harry was acting oddly?"

"Yes. I'm capable of looking after my ward."

"I didn't say you weren't. I just wanted to mention that Harry has suffered a lot–"

"I know what the boy has suffered, I took him from that house. What makes you think you must remind me?"

"He's got emotional needs and perhaps more than a child who has not lived through what he has."

"I'm aware that Potter has been affected by his experiences–"

"You aren't the most approachable, let alone tactile, person I've ever come across. Children need affection and Harry's no different."

"I'll thank you not to give council where it is neither wanted nor needed. I will deal with Potter how I see fit."

"There are those of us who are happy to give him what he needs if you cannot. You can house him with you if you'd prefer. He needs someone to take him in and give him a bit of stability but we, Sirius especially, can look after his emotional needs."

"I've no desire to have Potter regularly run screaming from your attempts at emotional support. I'll thank you to leave your amateur attempts at child psychology for someone else's charge."

H.P.

Harry was in high spirits after the match, grinning enthusiastically as they waited for the top box to clear. The only downside to the day was having to share the top box with Malfoy but it was pretty easy to forget about him being there. Strangely enough, seeing Lucius bothered him more... The Malfoys just had to stick their oar in everywhere; they couldn't even let him live with Snape without trying to ruin that as well.

"Did you see the way Krum pulled out of that second dive?" Ron said gesturing wildly.

"Of course we saw it. We were there too."

"I'm going to try that," Harry said with certainty.

"Let's hope you don't pull up in time and crash head first into the stands… but then maybe that'd be an improvement," Malfoy interrupted, leaning down over the empty row of seats between them.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry retorted angrily, momentarily forgetting his promise to Snape.

"Come, Draco," Lucius called out in his irritatingly superior voice and Malfoy turned away with a smirk.

"Yeah, do as your told, Malfoy," Ron snarled out before mumbling something he definitely wouldn't have let his mother hear.

"Come on," Hermione called as their row cleared out of the top box.

---

"I think I'm going to go to bed now–" Ron announced loudly just as Percy and Mr Weasley made to join them at the table with their mugs of cocoa.

"What?"

"Now, before Percy goes off on one again about cauldron bottoms or the big Hogwarts secret."

"Yeah, bed– I'm exhausted," Harry said, feigning a yawn and stretching in his seat.

"Night, Dad, Perce…"

"So how come you're not staying after tomorrow?" Ron asked, searching in his bag for his toothbrush.

"Dumbledore says I can't. I need to stay with my relatives to make up for being at Hogwarts for half the summer."

"What difference does it make?"

"There's wards there, spells to protect me if Voldemort–"

"You-know-who."

"I get enough of that from– everyone. Anyway, there's protection at the house but I have to live in it at least for a couple of weeks for it to work."

"It's a shame but maybe you can come for Christmas instead of us all staying at Hogwarts."

"Maybe," Harry mumbled, pulling his covers up to his chin. Would Snape let him go with the Weasleys? He couldn't imagine Snape wanting to spend Christmas with him. This was a summer-only living arrangement, wasn't it? Harry put the question out of his mind. It was months and months away...

He fell asleep dreaming of dodging bludgers and screaming fans and wasn't awake when Ron returned from cleaning his teeth and climbed into his own bunk.

---

That the three of them had managed to get separated from the others, completely stranded, not too far from the riot almost had Harry rolling his eyes in frustration. Of course the Quidditch World Cup couldn't go smoothly and no doubt Snape would have something to say about it.

He honestly half expected to run into Draco Malfoy at the rate his luck was going and almost growled in frustration when his expectation became a reality and he emerged from the trees, standing there as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if it wasn't his sort, his father, who was out there levitating muggles and trampling tents!

"Pleasant summer, Potter?"

"Mind your own business, Malfoy," Hermione snapped when Harry said nothing, stubbornly pressing his lips together in an attempt to ignore the obvious goading. He's not on your side Malfoy! He's not going to tell you anything!

"Maybe those muggles do have an ounce of sense. Do anything to be rid of you, would they?"

"Shut up," Ron spat.

"So what did you have to do to get put with Severus?"

"Severus?" Harry said incredulously, breaking his silence. Since when was Malfoy on first name terms with Snape?

"You might as well just tell me now. He's only coming to the manor to tell us himself… Did they have to be forced to take you back, Potter? They must have been, no one could stand to be around you for more than five minutes. Look at the state of your friends, a blood traitor and a mud blood. You really were scraping the bottom of the barrel."

Harry gritted his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache.

"What's Harry's home life got to do with you?" Hermione asked, trying to push the boys to continue past Malfoy.

"Touched a nerve, have I?" Draco asked, looking directly at Harry who tried to drown out his voice in the sound of the steadily approaching riot. "I just feel sorry for Severus… stuck with you for weeks, I don't know how he could stand it. Nothing to say, Potter? I bet your own mother couldn't stand you. I'd throw myself in front of an avada kedavra first chance I got if I thought I'd be stuck with you for seventeen years."

Harry lost his temper and shoved Malfoy so hard he slammed back into a tree.

"Harry, no!"

Malfoy had his wand out in an instant. Harry dove aside to avoid the spell, making to grab his own wand, but came up empty.

"Expelliarmus," Hermione yelled.

"Missed, Mudblood."

Ron's was the only wand alight and he cancelled out the lumos to send a hex Malfoy's way. His only reaction was to laugh as the spell had illuminated Harry's position but allowed him to hide and Harry only just managed to avoid a vicious cutting hex, which grazed past his cheek.

"Stop it. We've got to go, now!" Hermione said and Harry had no choice but to follow, grabbing Ron as they ran, and all the while searching his pockets for his wand.

"Why didn't you hex him back?" Ron demanded when they were far away enough that they could barely make out the riot.

"I've lost my wand," Harry said in disbelief, still frantically searching.

"What do you mean you've lost your wand?" Ron asked, appalled.

"What do you think I mean? I don't have it," Harry said, panic beginning to set in. What was he going to do without it?

"Did you leave it behind?"

"No, I'd never leave it. I had it earlier but–" Harry began searching the ground around them. "We need to go back."

"We can't go back, Harry! We need to get away from the riot and Malfoy's back there."

"My Dad'll help you find it later. You've probably just left it in the tent."

"I didn't leave it in the–"

"We need to find the others, come on," Hermione insisted, ignoring Harry's heated reply.

Harry thought nothing of the deep voice incanting 'Morsmordre' until Hermione's panic set in.

"Harry, come on. We can't stay here, we've got to go!"

"Whoa, what is that?" Ron said, looking up at the floating skull in the sky.

"Ron, move. It's You-Know-Who's symbol!"

Harry swore under his breath. He'd lost his wand and now this. How was he supposed to defend himself? His scar felt fine though, so Voldemort couldn't be around.

Harry's thoughts were cut off as the loud pops of apparition sounded all around them and he shouted for them to get down.

As the spells criss-crossing over their heads faded and the welcome sound of Mr. Weasley's voice trying to explain that they weren't Death Eaters washed over them, Harry mused that the ministry really were the hex first, ask questions later kind of wizards. Snape was not going to be impressed. There was a good chance he'd never let him out again! There go his afternoons at the public pitches…

"They're at the scene of the crime!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Amos."

"This isn't the scene. It happened over there," Hermione corrected Diggory and Harry almost grinned.

"Did it now? And you just happened to witness the spell, did you?"

"We didn't witness the person casting it, but we heard them." Instead of everyone going to search the trees where he was pointing, the ministry witches and wizards stared for a moment before a few muttered comments were exchanged. As if sensing a change in the atmosphere, Mr. Weasley loudly suggested someone search the area in case they'd managed to hit anyone.

Harry frowned. It wasn't that he enjoyed the attention when he was recognised, but at least that was better than the reaction he was getting now. The ministry officials were eyeing him with suspicion and had gone as far as to raise their wands directly at him.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, feeling more vulnerable than ever at not having his own wand to hold.

"We'll be asking the questions here, young man."

"Here. We found someone!" A few of the ministry officials lowered their wands but Diggory held his steady.

"An elf! Crouch's elf, and it's got a wand!"

"Isn't that the elf from the top box?" Hermione murmured.

There was a ripple of shock at the wizard's announcement and Diggory lowered his wand unapologetically before moving on to harass the small elf.

"What's going on, Dad?"

"Quickly, what happened?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"We were over where they found the elf and we heard a man's voice say a spell and then that thing appeared in the sky and then everyone started attacking us," Ron replied.

"It was a man's voice, not an elf's," Hermione asserted, watching as the elf was ennervated.

"Why were they all blaming Harry?"

"No one blamed Harry. Just calm down."

"So you picked it up off the ground, did you elf? Are you sure you didn't have time to shoot off a few spells while you were at it?" Diggory accused the house elf, who in Harry's opinion looked terrified enough without Diggory waving the wand in its face.

"I is finding the wand, I is not using it."

"She didn't, it was a human's voice we heard," Hermione said loudly, watching with distaste as the large man intimidated the small elf.

"And just where do you think my house elf would have learned how to cast the Dark Mark?" Crouch interrupted with quiet anger. Harry hadn't even noticed he was there. You could tell he was in charge as the rest of the ministry group looked horrified at the implication.

"I– no, of course it–" Diggory stumbled over his words holding the wand up in a gesture of placation and Harry recognised it immediately.

"Hey, that's my wand."

All eyes turned back to him and it seemed to take Diggory a moment to process that information, but when he did he got a manically triumphant gleam in his eye. "It's your wand? So you admit it."

"Yeah, it's my wand. I lost it."

"Or you threw it away–"

"You're accusing Harry Potter," Arthur Weasley stressed, raising his eyebrows, and a few of the other ministry officials surrounding Amos Diggory shuffled about, embarrassed.

"And who has he been living with this summer? I think we know exactly where he could have picked up the dark arts!" The surrounding ministry officials seemed less cowed after this statement and there was a quiet murmuring between a few of them. Harry thought he heard one of them whisper Snape's name. Crouch said nothing but looked on coldly.

"Snape didn't teach me any dark arts," Harry said, looking at them like they were mad.

"Amos, be serious. Albus Dumbledore vouched for him. He's been working at Hogwarts for years."

"Not everyone believes he's reformed. We aren't all that easy to win over."

"What do you mean 'reformed'?" Ron put it in, looking up at his father.

"I didn't cast that thing," Harry interrupted, waving a hand vaguely behind him to indicate the eerily floating mark.

"Harry didn't. He didn't have his wand," Hermione insisted.

"I'm afraid we can't run the risk that the boy's being controlled in some way." Harry frowned. Why did everyone insist on calling him that?

"I'm not. Give me back my wand."

"He could have been confunded, doesn't seem to be under the imperius but we can't rule it out," Diggory was saying speaking to another man behind him who nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Weasley–" Harry said desperately.

"Amos, Harry's not even with Professor Snape any more. He's living with his relatives. How could he possibly be controlling Harry? Mr. Crouch, this is getting ridiculous," Mr Weasley said appealing to authority.

Harry was grateful that Mr. Weasley didn't mention that it had been Snape that brought him to the Burrow.

"Look at the evidence, Arthur. We'll make it a quick check."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked nervously.

"They can't administer Veritaserum without your guardian's permission. It'd be a standard spell diagnosis to check that your mind hasn't been interfered with," Mr Weasleys clarified quietly.

"Winky? Was the voice that cast the spell anything like Harry's?" Hermione said, addressing the quaking elf.

"N-no."

"See! Ask her what the person sounded like. He sounded nothing like Harry. It was a man for one thing."

"I think that clears it up then, don't you?" Mr Weasley stated happily, continuing in an undertone to Diggory. "Amos, Harry didn't even have his wand, he's fourteen and we have three witnesses that say it couldn't possibly be him. Are you really going to take Harry Potter from the scene of an anti-muggle riot, from under the Dark Mark, for spell diagnosis?"

It was then, finally, that Diggory relented after a short nod from Crouch.

"Can I have my wand back, then?"

"Sorry about that, Harry. Amos has a tendency to get a bit carried away." A bit carried away? He doubted the man even thought he was confunded. Diggory looked like he thought he was about to start shooting off dark spells left, right and centre just because he'd lived with Snape! Trust Snape to go off on one about his reputation, Snape's gone and ruined his.

"What's all that about Snape, then?" Ron asked.

"You should really be asking why they would think that Professor Snape taught Harry how to cast the Dark Mark," Hermione interrupted.

"What is a Dark Mark exactly?" Harry asked.

"It's the Death Eaters' mark, you really should know that."

"Why would I know that?" Harry snapped back, his temper getting the better of him.

"Calm down all of you,' Arthur Weasley replied. 'Hermione is right, the Dark Mark is the sign of the Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?" Ron asked.

"You-Know-Who's closest supporters. Obviously not just anyone knows how to cast a Dark Mark, so it clearly came from someone who had been one of his supporters."

"But why's everyone so fussed about a floating skull? It's not as if You-Know-Who is here."

"Use your head Ron! Most people here remember what it was like before You-Know-Who was defeated. You lived in fear, afraid to come home one day and see the mark above your house, knowing what you'd find inside… It's indescribable."

"So, Snape was a Death Eater?" Ron could barely contain his excitement at his discovery.

"Professor Snape was vouched for by Professor Dumbledore many years ago, which is and should be enough, but there are certain people in the ministry who find it difficult to believe."

"But Malfoy's out there in the top box!" Harry exclaimed furiously.

"The Malfoys are a wealthy family… The situation is complicated and Professor Snape doesn't make himself popular. Don't cause trouble now that you know this. I know the three of you don't get on with him but this is serious."

"Of course," Hermione replied instantly.

"Ron, Harry?"

"Yeah, no I won't."

"All right," Ron agreed reluctantly.

"So, what do you think about Snape being a Death Eater?" Ron asked once they'd gotten back to their tent. He scooped up his clothes and stuffed them haphazardly back into his bag.

"Your dad didn't say he was a Death Eater. Dumbledore stuck up for him," Harry pointed out.

"They all seemed to think he was one. Diggory said 'reformed'… Sounds like he was a Death Eater to me."

"Ron's right, why would he say reformed unless we're supposed to believe that Snape's changed? He must have been a Death Eater once then…"

"Does it matter? Dumbledore trusts him so isn't that enough? I thought we were done with the whole Snape's evil thing," Harry snapped, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"I was done with it. You were the one who wasn't," Hermione replied defensively.

"Yeah, you've changed your tune. Maybe you have been confunded."

"I'm not confunded! I just think we've got bigger things to worry about. We know Snape's not a problem because he's always saving my life. It's the Malfoys we've got to watch out for."

"Well, yes, obviously, but didn't Malfoy say Snape was going to speak to them about you?"

"Fine, you're right, it's suspicious. I don't think Snape'll have much to say to them anyway. It's not like we spoke much."

"Professor Snape's quite perceptive and you just said Professor Dumbledore trusts him so why would he not have things to tell them?"

"I just think that Dumbledore's right, all right? Plus, Snape knows about Sirius and he hates him, more than he hates me. You saw them together. If he wasn't on the good side then he would give him up or kill him or something."

"There is that…"

"Still sounds like you've been confunded. Maybe you've got that thing when you start to like your kidnappers."

"Stockholm syndrome," Hermione supplied.

"I don't think that's what wizards call it."

"Snape didn't kidnap me and I don't have any syndrome. I'm just saying that if Snape was on their side, we'd know about it by now and he wouldn't go around saving my life."

"I think it's worth finding out if he was a Death Eater," Hermione said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"How would we find out if he was a Death Eater?" Harry asked trying to convey how ridiculous a suggestion that was. It didn't even matter what they found out, Snape had already told him he was a spy, so of course they'd think he was a Death Eater.

"Well, he'd have the Dark Mark on his arm."

"Snape does always wear long sleeved robes," Ron put in.

"Right so we just ask him to roll up his sleeves? Sorted," Harry said, voice heavy with sarcasm as he packed his stuff into his rucksack.

"You lived with him. Did you ever see his arm?"

"Well, no…"

"Aha, there's your evidence," Ron practically yelled.

"I think we'd have to see it for it to be actual evidence, Ron," Hermione interjected.

"Okay, we'll keep an eye out for Snape but I'm more worried about Lucius Malfoy. He was probably out there levitating those muggles."

"Come on out you three, we need to take the tent down," Mr Weasley called.

"Quit looking at me like that, Ron. I'm not saying that Snape's a great person. I just don't think he's going to try and kill me or ship me off to Voldemort."

---

"Boys, I was so worried!" Mrs Weasley cried the moment they were in sight of the Burrow.

Harry almost missed the figure in black looking supremely unconcerned behind her. He was ten hours early.

 

H.P.

"Do not tell me you got yourself mixed up in this," Snape growled the minute he pulled Harry through the floo into the living room. Harry shrugged away quickly and played for time, brushing ash off his clothes.

"In what?"

"This," he said, thrusting the Daily Prophet into his hands. Underneath the headline was an eerie picture of the Dark Mark hovering over a violent riot. "Who hurt you?"

It took Harry a moment to realise what Snape was on about, until the man looked quite pointedly at his cheek. "Oh," Harry said, reaching up a hand to see how bad it was. There was a bit of dried blood but it was probably okay. "That wasn't the riot or the Death Eaters. It was… Malfoy."

To say Snape was less than impressed would have been an understatement. His eyebrows shot together to form an angry scowl so fast Harry wouldn't have been surprised if they'd collided. "I take it you mean Draco. Why, Potter, did you see fit to communicate with him when I expressly told you not to?"

"I didn't speak to him."

"Draco would not attack unprovoked." Oh, he wouldn't, would he? Draco wouldn't up and start a fight out of nowhere?

"I might have shoved him a bit," Harry admitted, a little uncomfortably.

Snape's eyes flashed at Harry's response. "Are you incapable of following simple instructions or were you temporarily deaf when I gave them?"

"I didn't actually say anything to him," Harry said, but his attempt to defend himself was in vain as Snape sneered.

"You've never heard the expression `actions speak louder than words`?"

"I lost my temper. I didn't plan to do it." He didn't regret it though; that slimy little piece of work deserved more than a shove.

"It's not good enough, Potter. You blatantly disregarded my instructions. I told you not to engage with Draco!"

"You're just mad I shoved Draco," Harry snapped, stung that Snape would think he would break his word on purpose.

Snape stilled slightly at his words and Harry thought he'd gone too far, but instead of relaunching his verbal attack, Snape drew his wand. "Come here," he ordered. "Now," he growled impatiently when Harry didn't do so instantly.

Harry reluctantly obeyed, eyeing Snape's wand suspiciously, but the Potions Master merely turned his chin to the side to heal the cut on his face.

"Oh yeah, thanks," Harry said, feeling a tingle of magic across the cut.

"Imbecile," Snape muttered. "Explain exactly what Draco said to you."

"Why?" 

"You know damn well why, Potter. I need to know what you made so painfully obvious to him." Healing aside, it was still Draco and Potter. No matter that Draco was the one goading Harry and attacking him too.

Harry felt his face flame as he mumbled with more than a little resentment. "He, er, said stuff about the Dursleys not wanting me, and you not wanting me, and then my, uh, mother not wanting me…"

"You stupid boy. I have no choice now; I will be telling the Malfoys about your relatives." Harry could tell from his tone of voice that it was no empty threat or joke, not that Snape would ever joke.

"What? Why?"

"Why? Because you all but told Draco yourself," Snape yelled in frustration.

S.S.

"Did anything else happen on this trip that I should be aware of?" Severus asked, running a weary hand through his hair before Harry could interrupt. He needed this finished before he could deal with the situation with the Malfoys. The boy was one problem after another.

Harry cleared his throat but didn't meet Severus's eyes. "Out with it," Of course there'd be more. Since when did Harry do anything by halves?

"Well, you know about the whole Dark Mark in the sky situation. I haven't even told you what happened yet," Harry said, backing away slightly. Severus attempted to tone his glower down a notch. How, how does he manage to get himself into these situations?

Harry took a breath. "My wand might have briefly been stolen and used to put the Dark Mark in the sky and one of the ministry people might have thought you taught me how to do it butit'sallbeensortedoutnow."

"Your wand was stolen by a Death Eater?" He was lucky to be alive!

Harry had backed away still further. "Well, I don't know if it was stolen by a–"

"You went to that World Cup and disobeyed every single instruction I gave you." Severus didn't care that he was shouting himself hoarse. The child cared nothing for his own safety and refused to follow instructions and he would not have it.

"I said it was stolen. I didn't give it away," Harry yelled back.

"Detention! I've warned you time and time again to watch your tone when you speak to me."

"We're not even in school."

"Call it what you will, you'll be scrubbing cauldrons all the same," he snarled back. "How was your wand stolen?"

"I don't know. I just realised when I was in the woods and I was going to hex Malfoy back. I went for it and it wasn't in my pocket."

"Your pocket."

"My back pocket."

"Is where you keep your wand," Severus stated in absolute disbelief. "Are you telling me that the one day I let you out of my sight, and in the full knowledge that the Dark Lord wants to kill you, you left your wand where anyone can steal it and did not notice amidst a riot of the Dark Lord's supporters until you wanted to attack the one person I told you not to let provoke you? Not only that, but you let your wand be stolen by a Death Eater, who used it to cast the Dark Mark and had been close enough to attack while you were defenceless. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?" Severus started at a deadly hiss but in the end was roaring in anger.

The boy opened his mouth to deliver the most inane and infuriating comment Severus was certain he'd ever heard from him. "Well, it didn't, did it?"

The child had so little value for his own life. He cared nothing for his own wellbeing and safety. It would stop, fighting basilisks, dementors and Merlin knows what else, it all stops now. Severus struggled not to snap at the child, he needed his anger in check.

This situation wasn't a surprise. He knew the time would come when he would have to deal with Harry's rule breaking and he'd been well aware that he'd need to convince him that risking his own safety should not be a common occurrence. Yelling and intimidation weren't going to reach him. He couldn't scare him into behaving; the boy was pure defiance when he chose to be.

Severus stared at the boy for a moment considering his options. This certainly needed to be addressed as a matter of urgency, but it was not lost on him that he had declared that he would be betraying Harry's trust to Lucius Malfoy. Perhaps in not giving him time to argue the point he could deal with the whole issue later. What is crucial is that the boy learns.

"You, Potter, are in the unfortunate position of being in my care. Do you know what that means?"

"That you're going to punish me?" Harry hazarded a guess.

"Indeed. It means that I'm going to demonstrate that I will not tolerate this behaviour, disobeying my instructions, brawling, showing blatant disregard for your own safety… Have I missed anything?"

"Do you actually want me to say?" Harry asked uncertainly. There was more? What more could he have possibly done? The boy gulped and took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Right. We spoke for a bit with Ron's dad about Death Eaters and, uh, you– because of my wand and everything– and then Ron and Hermione thought you were a Death Eater and I sort of stuck up for you a bit."

"Get out," Severus ordered abruptly, gesturing up the stairs.

"Sir? I–"

"I said out, Potter! Try for once not to disobey me."

He didn't miss the look on Harry's face but he did not soften his glare until the boy left the room. He sat down at the table in the kitchen. He needed some time to think and to calm down.

H.P.

Harry was experiencing something he'd only ever felt once before and this time it was worse… He'd thought it was bad enough when he and Ron had gotten caught with the flying Ford Anglia but this time there was no Ron alongside him and Snape was more than just livid – he was disappointed. Somehow it was worse disappointing Snape now than it was with Dumbledore. His anger he knew how to take, but this was a horrible feeling.

But it's not as if Snape was being fair... He hadn't even realised that Snape was going to get that angry until he completely flew off the handle. It's not like he meant to lose his temper with Malfoy and he didn't choose to disobey Snape. And how was it fair that when he gets his wand stolen he gets yelled at for it? He comes home with a cut on his face that was Malfoy's handiwork and he gets yelled at for going near him, just because it's Draco.

Admittedly, sticking up for Snape had been a mistake and he didn't really have an excuse but it was confusing going between defending Snape to the ministry then badmouthing him to his friends. It's not like he's had years of spying practice.

As time wore on Harry's defiant inner rant wore off and he couldn't help but be anxious. Snape was really mad. 'I can't believe you dared disobey me, Potter' kind of mad and now he had to just sit around in his room and wait for Snape to decide how to punish him? He wasn't going to do that. He was going tell him he was sorry that he'd made him mad and that he wasn't actually trying to disobey him. It should count for something.

He felt a bit foolish being so nervous about leaving his room and hung about in the kitchen doorway for a moment. Snape didn't seem to notice his arrival and he looked deep in thought. He'd probably get mad at him just for opening his mouth but he wasn't about to give up now. "Professor?"

"Yes?" Snape replied, raising an eyebrow as if he was surprised at Harry's daring but knew he was there all along.

"I know you said I had to stay in my room but I wanted to say something," Harry stated boldly.

"You are not confined to your room," Snape said, but gestured for Harry to go ahead.

"Right. I wanted to say that I didn't disobey you on purpose and I'm, um, sorry."

"Are you?" Snape asked, regarding him with interest.

"Yeah, I broke my word so…"

"Do you want to know what concerns me, Mr. Potter?" Snape interrupted, gesturing for Harry to come into the kitchen and sit across the table from him.

"Okay."

"You are not sorry that your actions or lack thereof led you into a dangerous situation. It seems to me that you are sorry that you've made me angry and now there will be consequences."

"I'm not being funny, sir, but you were really angry."

"Yes, I believe it's the first time you've ever seen me angry. It must have come as a great shock to you," Snape drawled sarcastically before continuing in a firmer tone. "There are consequences for your complete idiocy as I said earlier." Harry nodded recalling him saying that he would be telling the Malfoys and he felt his breath catch. He didn't want Snape to go there to talk to them at all, especially not about him. "However, that is not your punishment."

"Not punishment enough?" Harry muttered.

"Obviously not. I warned you, you stupid boy."

"Don't call me that," Harry insisted, for what felt like the millionth time. It was bad enough he'd not called him Harry since he'd practically exploded in anger.

Snape seemed to misunderstand his frustration. "It will not be the horror you seem to expect it to be. I was serious when I discussed trust, and I would still like you to feel comfortable confiding in me. We will discuss what I tell Lucius."

Harry was unsettled by Snape's tone. He was supposed to be yelling at him and telling him everything he did wrong then giving him some massively outrageous punishment or at least trying to get him expelled. Instead he was sitting across from him watching him carefully and for Snape he was being more than civil.

"I will give him a vague idea at best. It would not even be feasible at this stage for me to give details. I want to make this clear, it is not a punishment, it is a separate issue entirely." Harry blinked and tried to swallow past the unexplainable lump that seemed to have formed in his throat at Snape's words.

"Harry?" Snape said impatiently as if he expected some sort of response. Harry found himself taken aback by the sudden use of his first name. Did that mean that Snape didn't hate him again?

S.S.

"For the love of–" Severus cut himself off abruptly. For some reason instead of putting Harry at ease about the matter he'd made it worse. The boy looked far more confused and unhappy than he had earlier. He'd wanted to make it very clear that he wasn't going to reveal information to Lucius as a form of punishment. 

"Tell me what's the matter," Snape ordered, but Harry's only response was a shrug. "I'm not going to let this go."

"I don't know, all right."

"If you would rather speak to Lupin or Black–"

"No."

"We're going to have to discuss your punishment. I assure you it will not be anything like what your relatives–"

"Oh God, I know! I know, all right? I don't think you're going to lock me in my room for the rest of the summer or starve me. I'm not dense."

Severus decided to take the boy's word for it, filing his words away for a later conversation.

"There is something I believe I need to drill into your skull. You are not invincible and you are no longer alone. You may not have answered to anyone when you fought basilisks or when you went after that damned stone but now you answer to me. I asked you to follow two specific instructions. What were they?"

Harry sighed before answering and Severus had to grit his teeth not to snap at his attitude. "Not to talk to Malfoy and not to draw attention to myself."

"Why?"

"Because if I spoke to Malfoy I might make you have to tell them about the Dursleys. I get it all right, but I didn't talk to him. I just lost my temper."

"And you told him all he needs to know. You did exactly what I asked you not to."

"I didn't draw attention to myself though. It's not my fault my wand got stolen."

"It is if you are so stupid as to leave it in your back pocket when you know full well that there is a Dark Lord out there who wants you dead."

"I'm sorry I shoved Malfoy but–"

"You are sorry because now there are repercussions." 

"Obviously, he deserved it."

"I will not be signing your Hogsmeade form."

"What?" Harry's face showed a disproportionate amount of horror at that statement, as if he'd just announced that he was giving away his broomstick.

"You will not be going out to Hogsmeade until you show me that you will take this threat seriously. Your wand does not belong in the back pocket of your jeans!"

"You're joking. Sirius signed it."

"It is the headmaster who sees the form. I am your guardian, not the mutt, and I say no."

"What am I supposed to tell Ron and Hermione? They know Sirius signed the form."

"You can tell them that the headmaster wouldn't accept his signature as he is not your guardian."

"This isn't fair!"

"Fair, Potter? No one here is talking about fair. You'll be reporting to me on Hogsmeade Saturdays. I don't want another incident where your head appears to be in Hogsmeade but the rest of you is not."

"So you don't trust me, then?" Harry demanded.

"You have gotten off lightly. I have a mind to take that damned cloak of yours as well. A Death Eater had your wand, you were defenceless, you could have been killed."

"Fine, I could have done things differently but I didn't know I was doing anything wrong."

"Take it as given, Mr. Potter, that under no circumstances do I want you to physically attack another student, so in a situation where I specifically ask you not to react to or even to speak to a particular student then in that circumstance it is especially important that you don't shove them. And if there is a Dark Lord that wants to kill you then getting your only means of defence stolen would in fact be wrong. Clear?"

"Crystal. Are we done?"

"We are not finished. Your mistakes are not limited to leaving your wand in your jeans and shoving Mr. Malfoy. I believe you also put my reputation in doubt with your friends."

"I'm sorry about that okay? I'd just had to tell those ministry people that you didn't teach me how to cast a Dark Mark and I was tired and I wanted to go home and then they were saying that you were a Death Eater and I don't want my friends thinking that you're evil 'cause you're not."

"You will write me an essay giving a detailed account of your actions last night, why every single one of them was a mistake and what you should have done instead."

"Fine, how long?"

"However many feet it takes for you to learn and you will rewrite the essay until I am satisfied with it."

"Can I go then?"

"No, I do not want you to hide in your room."

"But I want–"

"I said no, Harry."

"Fine," Harry said, probably going for defiant but it came out a lot more hurt than anything else.

"Harry, being locked away and starved for your entire summers?" Severus asked, sensing that it was a gross exaggeration but just wanting to check to be sure.

"I just said that because you seem to think I was…mistreated or whatever." Severus nodded, relieved, until Harry continued. "It was only one summer and the Weasleys rescued me after a while anyway."

H.P.

It turned out that Snape didn't actually have any cauldrons to scrub and apparently he thought lines would be more 'effective' so Harry had been sitting for the past hour writing line after line of 'I will address Professor Snape with the respect he is due as both my teacher and my guardian.' which he resented considering Snape rarely addressed him with respect.

But for Snape the punishments were relatively tame, apart from banning him from Hogsmeade. That was low. He was hardly in danger in Hogsmeade with all the other students there and Sirius had said he could go. He'd briefly contemplated telling Sirius that Snape was overruling his permission but he didn't want them to argue and he didn't need Snape any angrier at him. To be honest he didn't want Snape angry at him at all. Snape had been all right with him when he was talking about Lucius Malfoy but that was probably just because of his whole 'Harry's been mistreated' theory. It wasn't because he liked him or anything.

"Sixty five lines? You've not done nearly enough. You'll be continuing this when we get back."

"From where?"

"I need to take you to get dress robes."

"More shopping?" Harry said, looking at Snape in horror.

"It's not up for discussion and I would not push my luck if I were you," Snape snarled as Harry trudged up the stairs to get his shoes.

S.S.

Absolutely ridiculous Yule Ball, it'd be infinitely better if they didn't bring back the Triwizard Tournament at all. "Get down here now, Potter."

"What do I need dress robes for anyway?" Harry said moodily, pulling on his shoes as he came down the stairs.

"Be grateful I'm taking you anywhere this afternoon, insolent boy," Snape replied, irritated at Harry's attitude. If anyone had a right to be angry it was him. He should count himself lucky that Severus was being so damned patient.

"DON'T call me that," Harry yelled but before Severus could react he was stomping past him back to the table. "I suppose I have to write even more bloody lines now."

Severus yanked the quill out of Harry's hand. "I said we're going out."

"These lines are a bit hypocritical if you ask me. You said you'd call me Harry."

Severus forced himself to reply in a tone that at least appeared calm. He knew at least partially why it was important to him and he knew he ought not to be dismissive. "It is not easy breaking a habit just like that."

"You called me Potter loads today and you called me 'boy' three times."

"Well you've been exceptionally irritating today, haven't you?" he hissed.

Harry sent him a fierce glare before reaching over to grab the parchment he'd filled so far and crumple it into a ball. "Fine, I don't want you calling me Harry anyway, Snape." At that Harry stormed up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut.

He made no attempt to call him back down or go after him. He didn't actually want to be in his company, nor to waste his breath arguing with him. He incinerated Harry's old quidditch magazine to relieve some of his anger before following suit and slamming the door to his potions laboratory behind him.

He'd obviously made a mistake. He was not remotely in the right frame of mind to deal with Harry, not that he wasn't making a complete guess at the best way to reach him anyway. Severus took a ridiculous amount of pleasure that afternoon ordering Harry's dress robes without consulting him.

---

By dinner time Severus could not ignore the boy any longer. He'd see that he ate at least. He knocked on the bedroom door, but receiving no reply opened it and scanned the room, smirking at the boy sleeping amongst his parchment on the desk.

Severus rearranged Harry's mess of a bed and pulled back the covers before shoving the pile of parchments aside on Harry's desk. He could see the boy had been writing letters, no doubt complaining about the unfairness of his punishments to his godfather and the wolf.

"Have t'get up?" Harry mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"No," Severus replied shortly before hoisting the boy up by his armpits and then carrying him over to his bed.

"No shopping?"

"I've taken care of it myself." He untied the laces of Harry's trainers and pulled them off. "Plain dress robes, green with silver stitching."

He'd almost asked for some sort of snake patterning but thought that might be going too far. Harry, on the other hand, showed no signs of having heard the end of Snape's sentence but was quite happily crushing his glasses into his pillow in his sleep. Severus pulled them off his face before leaving a note regarding dinner.

It was as if he was getting nowhere with the child. He had not discussed his relatives, they argued constantly, not to mention that he had no idea how to deal with Harry's attitude towards danger and rule breaking.

He had taken the child away from his relatives for Lily; she would not have stood for his treatment there, but would she have wanted this? He did not have the patience to deal with Harry, not to mention that the boy had his mother's fiery temper. It was not exactly a winning combination. But there was no question of giving up on him. Harry did not deserve that, not even if he was and acted like a bloody irritating Gryffindor.

 

S.S.

By the time it was morning and Severus' initial anger had waned it was difficult not to regret how he'd handled the confrontation with Harry. All the little things he'd resolved not to do or say when he took the child in he'd done and now he'd put himself in the foolish position of having to simultaneously deal with almost every problem that had arisen between them.

He allowed Harry the liberty of sulking over his breakfast uninterrupted, but spoke the moment Harry let his spoon clatter against the table and made to get up.

"Do you not think we have things to discuss?"

Harry heaved a great sigh in response before dropping back into his seat with exhausted resignation. "Look, sir, I don't want to argue all the time but sometimes you're wrong too." His tone made it evident that as far as he was concerned this was, in fact, one of those times and they weren't all that few and far between.

Severus didn't wait to say what he knew he must, loathe as he was to admit he'd been in error. "I should not have spoken to you in that manner. I made a commitment to call you by your forename and that is what I intend to do. I should have seen that it was important to you."

Harry blinked confusedly for a moment before agreeing. "Well, yeah, it is."

"I'd like to know why." Of course he had an idea himself but he no longer cared to make assumptions or tiptoe around Harry's denials and worries.

"Er, I'd rather not talk about it." Severus stared stonily back and Harry rolled his eyes. "Look you're just going to think I'm stupid so."

"I will not mock you. I'm giving you the opportunity to speak your mind."

Harry crossed his arms. "You're not going to listen anyway. I tell you all the time not to call me 'boy' but you do it anyway. 'Stupid boy', 'ridiculous boy'," he said, imitating Severus' scathing tone. "And you know I hate it."

"I believe I just admitted that I was wrong to speak to you in that way even if I was not aware that you found it upsetting. Need I say it again?"

"I don't find it upsetting. I'm not a baby."

"I know that it upsets you but I would like to know why. I have an idea, but I would rather you explained it yourself."

Harry said nothing for a moment as if considering what to say. "What idea?" Harry asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes.

"Your relatives referred to you in the same manner and the reminder is no doubt unpleasant, but you must know that I do not see you in the same light."

"Why would I know that? The minute I do something to make you angry you hate me again."

"I do not hate you," Severus insisted, appalled at the idea that he'd sent such inconsistent signals to the child.

"Right," Harry scoffed. "It's just like before. You call me Potter or some insult or boy because you hate me again. You think I'm arrogant and like my father."

"No, it is habit," Severus interrupted firmly. "When I'm angry with you, Potter is the name that comes to mind because it's how I used to refer to you. It is nothing more meaningful than a bad habit that I've yet to break."

"Fine," Harry agreed after a moment, still managing to hold onto his anger. "It might be like that with the whole Potter thing, but you never used to call me boy, not really, not until I came to live with you."

"And you've deduced why, I take it?"

H.P.

Condescending git. As if he hadn't had enough time with the Dursleys to realise why they never bothered to call him by his name. "You don't want to bother with me. You think I'm a waste of space."

"This is why I call you bloody names, Harry," Snape interrupted. "It's absolute idiocy. How many times do you need to hear me say that you're welcome here?"

"Yeah, well, people can outstay their welcome, can't they?" 

"Accio guardianship agreement." Snape thrust the document under his nose. "Read it. You seem to be under the impression that you are a guest in this house. You are not a guest; you are entitled to be here. This is your home."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you want me here," Harry said before he could stop himself.

"I do not know whether this is so difficult for you because of your mistreatment by your relatives or by myself. Despite what I've caused you to believe I do not have underlying feelings of hatred towards you. I was frustrated and angry and I expressed it in an inappropriate way."

"So… is that your version of an apology, then?" Harry asked, looking up at Snape.

"Yes," Snape replied uncomfortably and Harry grinned. He'd got Snape to apologise. Well, not exactly but he agreed that was what it was, so it counted for something.

"I still don't think it's fair for you to give me lines about respect when you don't speak to me right either."

"Indeed?" Snape replied thoughtfully. "I still want you to do the lines – don't pull that face – but I will endeavour to call you Harry and only Harry, even if we're arguing."

"Can't I just say I'll endeavour not to be cheeky when we're arguing?"

"No, and you could endeavour not to be cheeky all the time." He seemed to lose steam for a moment, an expression of uncertainty crossing his features. "I was going to suggest that you call me Severus."

"Severus?" Harry repeated, certain that Snape had lost his mind.

"Or sir. I'm not your teacher at home. Perhaps you'll realise that it's difficult to break such a habit. Is that any more even?"

"A bit," Harry replied, when he found his voice. A part of him couldn't help giving a mental 'Ha!' to Malfoy. Not so special now, was he? It was a shame he couldn't actually say it to his pointy, smug face. Snape's voice cut through Harry's inner rant about Malfoy.

"Harry, if I did not want you here then you would not be."

S.S.

As discussions between the two of them went this was certainly one of the most successful. There had yet to be any raised voices (or outright screaming) and it appeared that Harry had gotten the message. It would seem that his Gryffindor brain needed a bit more reinforcement than one or two admissions of non-hatred. It must be all the ridiculous sentimentality in that house… It was, after all, only one step away from Hufflepuff.

So from one difficult subject onto another. He could only hope that Harry would be able to deal with it better than he had done previously.

"Then we have something else to discuss. I'm leaving this afternoon to visit the Malfoys."

"Today?" Harry asked, dismayed, and Severus inwardly winced at how young he sounded.

"I've asked Lupin to floo through and stay with you this afternoon. I trust you're happy with that."

"No."

"You don't want to see Lupin?" Severus clarified, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"No, I don't want you to go."

"Nevertheless, I will be going," Severus replied firmly. "As I said yesterday I will only be giving Lucius a very vague idea that you are not happy at home and that Professor Dumbledore may suspect that you are not being treated as well as you ought to be."

"Can't you just say that you don't know why I had to live at the castle?"

"And intimate that I am neither in the headmaster's confidence or favour? Harry, you were incredibly easy to bait. They know that you do not particularly like your relatives; I would merely be confirming that you have reason."

"You can't ask me to be okay with you going over there to talk about how pathetic I am."

"You are not pathetic. I know this is not easy for you but I will say as little as possible. I will merely plant the idea that the headmaster may be considering looking for somewhere new to place you."

Harry narrowed his eyes as if he was considering finding that an acceptable situation. "So what are you actually going to say about me?"

"That you were an absolute nightmare and that the headmaster knows that you do not get along with your relatives but he suspected you were being treated inappropriately. Obviously I'll dress that up with what an arrogant… young man you are and how you no doubt complained to the headmaster for attention and it is yet another example of the old fool's favouritism towards the boy-who-lived."

"I guess that's not too bad."

"I cannot promise that you will not be the subject of ridicule at school."

"Yeah, I think I'm used to that," Harry said. He nodded, satisfied that the child was aware of the possible consequences. He had taken it remarkably calmly compared to how he he had reacted earlier.

---

"Go and wait for Lupin in the other room," Severus growled. Harry had been lingering in the kitchen since Severus had announced he was leaving that afternoon. His previous pride in his attitude had evaporated with Harry continuously picking at the subject.

"I just don't see why you have to bring anything for Malfoy," Harry said, eyeing the small package he intended to give Draco when he arrived at the manor.

"Your jealousy towards Draco is both childish and ridiculous." And it has not gone unnoticed. At least in some ways his behaviour is entirely predictable.

"Jealousy?" Harry spluttered. "I'm not jealous of Malfoy!"

"You shouldn't be," Severus replied, ignoring Harry's denial.

"You got all angry at me for fighting at the Quidditch World Cup but he gets a present," Harry pointed out, changing tack after a moment's silence.

"You know full well that I'm playing a part. I shouldn't even know that the pair of you were duelling."

"I wasn't duelling; I didn't even have my wand," Harry retorted stubbornly.

"Enough, Harry. Wait for Lupin in the living room. You can start that essay while you're at it," Severus ordered, trying not to be drawn into an argument. At least not when Harry was doing it on purpose.

"Right, I'll go write an essay and lines and I get banned from Hogsmeade and you're going to go and spend an afternoon with the Malfoys making fun of me and giving them presents," Harry said, finally making to leave the room. Severus growled in frustration. He wasn't that good an actor. Much as he wanted to draw Severus in, he wasn't making the problem up.

"Come here. It is an act, Harry."

"It's not an act that you like Malfoy," Harry replied stubbornly.

"It does not have to be a problem that I get on with Draco."

"You don't like Sirius and he hasn't picked on you for years, decades even. I hate Draco now."

"I will keep my dislike of your godfather to myself in future–"

"It's not like Sirius is going to waltz over here and try to kill your friend's pets or throw stuff in your cauldron or call your friends a mudblood." Severus crossed his arms. He must be too easy on him if he thought he could interrupt Severus in what was a more than generous gesture on his part.

"If you think that by trying to argue with me that I'm going to stay, you are very much mistaken. The fact that I am fond of Draco has nothing to do with how much I care about you," Severus replied, frustration winning out.

Harry swallowed loudly into the silence before blurting. "No one says `fond` anymore."

"Out."

"I'm not too early am I? Hello Harry." Lupin had appeared in the kitchen doorway looking as dishevelled as ever and Severus' eyes narrowed in dislike. The man was a necessary evil he would have to deal with now that he had Harry to look after.

"It's common courtesy to announce your arrival in someone else's home."

"I did, Severus, but I think you two were occupied. How have you been Harry?" he asked brightly, turning his attention to the child.

"Good. I–" Severus swept out of the room feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He wondered how much Lupin had heard before he'd made his presence known.

H.P.

Lupin still looked scruffy but he also looked marginally healthier than he had done the last time Harry had seen him. He couldn't be sure whether it was because of the phases of the moon, the fact that Sirius was back or he was looking after himself better since he'd gotten a muggle job. He was grateful he'd bothered to come out and stay with him while Snape was gone, and knowing Snape's mood he'd probably never leave him alone again, but he hardly needed a babysitter.

"Don't do dinner for him this evening. I'll sort it out when I get back," Snape barked out rudely to Remus on his way to the floo. "And you," he said when he reached Harry, "Behave yourself."

"Bye, then."

He turned to Remus once Snape had disappeared. "You'd never guess I was fourteen the way he treats me."

"Overprotective is he?" Remus asked and Harry scoffed in reply.

---

S.S.

It was too long since he had visited the manor. The gates were almost beginning to look imposing again. He wasted no time in striding up the walk to the front door, ignoring the elaborate and lavish gardens surrounding him. There was a time when Lucius' wealth and pretension had impressed him but that had long passed.

A house elf greeted him at the door and led him into Lucius' formal living room. He must have been eager to discuss this past summer as it was a mere moment before the man himself appeared.

"Severus, welcome. It really has been too long." Lucius was looking more casual than he'd seen him of late. When they'd exchanged news and pleasantries when the governors were convening he did his best to look as wealthy and intimidating as possible. It was a sign of how long they'd known each other that he'd dispensed with his usual finery. Then again, the man was no fool, the ministry may believe Severus might still be on the side of the Dark Lord but Lucius would be harder to convince. It was altogether possible that he was attempting to put Severus at ease in the hope that he might reveal that he was not as loyal as he'd like to appear.

"It has. I have had a somewhat eventful summer; it's kept me busier than I'd have liked."

"So I heard." Lucius gestured for him to have a seat. "The Potter boy in your care? One might wonder how that might come about."

Just then a house elf appeared at Severus' elbow holding a tray of drinks and he picked one up, settling back in the armchair, appearing completely at ease.

"It would seem I played my part too well. It's quite something to be trusted with the headmaster's precious golden boy."

"Even for Dumbledore you're an unusual choice given your history with the boy. You must be a better actor than even I thought if he believed you were willing to take Potter in."

"He knew I was not willing," Severus sneered as if remembering an unpleasant conversation. "I was not his first choice but it would seem I'm trusted enough to be one, which would have been fortuitous had it not landed me with Potter."

"And how was your first foray into parenthood? Has it made you want to settle down with a nice pureblood witch?" Lucius asked with a smirk. Severus ignored the jibe. 

"The insufferable brat would put any sane man off parenting. Impudent and spoiled beyond belief, it's little wonder his guardians have lasted so long."

"Lasted so long? They don't adore the boy along with the rest of the wizarding community?" Lucius was more than transparent. It was almost humorous having the man attempt to manoeuvre him.

"Obviously not as much as Potter would like. I suspect he's made claims against them, enough to make the headmaster worry."

"He's taking the boy seriously?" 

"Potter can do no wrong in Dumbledore's eyes," he answered, placing his empty glass back on the house elf's tray.

"I assume he wasn't impressed when he was sent back?"

"He kicked up quite the fuss," Severus replied, allowing a smirk to cross his features. "I suspect he'll play quite the martyr on his return to school. Speaking of school, how is Draco?"

"He's well, caught up with his subjects. I expect him to do better this year," Lucius commented darkly and Severus recalled how Granger's higher marks were a constant source of irritation for both Draco and his father. "How did you find his work in potions last term?"

"He's a competent brewer for his age…"

H.P.

"I take it you two have been arguing again," Remus commented lightly, settling himself into Snape's couch.

"He went mental at me yesterday," Harry admitted with a grimace.

"More so than usual?" Remus replied with a slight grin.

"He banned me from Hogsmeade."

Remus frowned slightly. "Any particular reason?" 

Harry sighed. It always sounded worse than it was when he described it. "I got into a bit of trouble at the World Cup. My wand was stolen and it turned out a Death Eater had taken it and some ministry people thought that I'd put that Dark Mark in the sky. And I got into a fight with Malfoy."

"A duel?"

"I didn't actually have my wand." Harry clarified before continuing. "Banning me from Hogsmeade and making me write a massive essay is completely going overboard. I didn't do any of it on purpose. You're on my side, right?" Harry asked when Remus didn't immediately reply.

Remus took a breath and considered Harry a moment longer. "It might not be what I'd have chosen, but it's up to Severus how he punishes you."

Harry let his jaw drop, aghast. Remus was actually on Snape's side with this? "You don't think it's out of order?"

"It isn't what I've done in his place, but I can see why he's done it."

"You're actually sticking up for Snape?" Harry asked incredulously. "I wasn't trying to break his rules or make him mad."

"I'm not saying you were and I'm sure Severus knows that too. It's not how I would have dealt with you but I'm not your guardian."

"So you're not going to say anything? That's it? I'm banned from Hogsmeade. Sirius signed the form." Harry almost winced at how whiny he sounded. He wasn't trying to be childish but it wasn't fair. Sirius would have stuck up for him.

"I'll have a word with him but if this is what he thinks is best then you'll have to accept it. He's right to punish you. I'm not telling you off, that's Severus' place but you don't need me to tell you that you did something wrong."

"But I wasn't trying to do anything wrong."

"Then you know for next time. Enough of this, what do you normally do here?"

"Um, nothing really. I've got chess."

"I think I saw a television upstairs when I was doing the warding."

"You're joking? Snape's got a telly!" Harry laughed, momentarily forgetting his irritation that Remus wasn't on his side.

---

S.S.

"Why is my ward watching a television?" Severus asked the minute he'd stepped out of the floo that afternoon. Harry was staring quite avidly at an ancient television that he recognised as his own.

"There's not too much magic here. We got it to work!" Harry said with more excitement than he wanted to hear about such a ridiculous contraption.

"I can see that."

"There's not much to do here for a boy Harry's age, Severus," Lupin replied, getting up to fetch his cloak. Severus' lips thinned to a line. He knew very well that this house wasn't ideal.

"He's got lines and an essay to write. I imagine that's plenty for the time-being." Harry chose that moment to go temporarily deaf and Lupin rolled his eyes before heading into the kitchen. Undoubtedly the wolf had some more parenting tips to share.

"I spoke to Harry about the World Cup."

"Before I receive your opinion on the subject, remind me how many children you've brought up?"

"If you're aiming to get through to Harry banning him from Hogsmeade and making him write an essay…it's a bit excessive. He's used to excessive punishments but I don't think he respects them or learns from them."

"Are you insinuating that my punishment is tantamount to child abuse or neglect?" Severus asked coldly.

"No, I'm just saying that it's harsher than necessary and that Harry won't learn from it."

"You taught Harry defence for a year and spent a couple of afternoons with him, of course you know him better. Do go on."

Lupin responded as if he hadn't spoken. "Talk to him. Don't make him write an essay. He didn't think he was doing anything wrong otherwise he wouldn't have done it. You need to tell him what he did wrong calmly, not yelling at him."

"An essay is not an excessive punishment. I've set students essays for far more trivial things than what Harry did."

"You've already banned him from Hogsmeade, I'd think that's punishment enough without rubbing it in."

"Harry's in charge of how many Hogsmeade visits he misses," Severus replied dismissively and Lupin looked at him with confusion.

"He's under the impression that he's banned for life." It was Severus' turn to roll his eyes. He stalked back out into the living room and switched off the television.

"Harry. I said yesterday that you were banned until I was satisfied that you took the threat to your life seriously. What did you think I meant?" Harry glanced back at the kitchen to where he'd left Lupin.

"I thought you'd just decide whenever you wanted to… or never." Severus scowled. It was as if no one listened to him. "How am I supposed to show you that you can trust me if you won't let me go out?" Harry asked defensively.

"Write me the essay and we'll talk about it," Severus replied shortly, striding back into the kitchen.

"I do not require you or any other flea-bitten animal to tell me how to raise my ward. You agreed he could be in my care and I won't have you or Black questioning every punishment I give him. You can say goodbye to Harry on your way out," he said, dismissing Lupin.

"I was attempting to give you some advice, Severus. I'm not here to fight with you."

"I do not need your advice."

"You might think about letting Sirius see him."

"Know when to stop, Lupin."

"I'll be available next time you need someone to look after Harry," he said, finally leaving.

"Prof– Sir. Severus? What's going on at school this year? Ron's brother kept going on about some big secret."

"Students aren't supposed to know about it until it's announced at the feast," Severus replied.

"You're not my teacher now, you're my guardian, so you can tell me," Harry grinned.

"And I suppose Arthur Weasley felt the same way?"

"But–" Harry started, his face falling in disappointment.

"Calm down, Harry. Lucky for you I don't always agree with the Weasleys and, as you rightly said, I am your guardian. The ministry is bringing back the Triwizard Tournament to Hogwarts, which in turn means quidditch is cancelled."

"They're cancelling quidditch? Are you serious?" It was hard not to smile at how horror struck Harry looked.

"Indeed. It's a highly dangerous competition between three wizarding schools and, before you get any ideas, you're far too young to compete. There's an age limit."

"I never said I wanted to compete," Harry said defensively.

"If you've no intention of starting that essay tonight you can make sure you've got everything you need for school. Accio Harry's dress robes. I ordered your robes for you; you can put them with the rest of your things."

"I'm not wearing these– they're Slytherin!"

"They're green. Don't be so melodramatic," Severus said dismissively.

"They're green and silver!"

"I hardly had a Slytherin badge stitched on to the back." At his words Harry immediately checked to see whether there was in fact a giant serpent anywhere on the robes. "You'd have preferred something in red and gold?"

"No. Fine, they're not that bad."

"Go and sort it out quickly. I want to have dinner before it gets dark."

"What are we having?"

"You can choose. You need to stretch your legs and you can't fly this late." Harry's face brightened at the idea of getting out of the house. "You're not picking anywhere you have to queue for a meal."

 

S.S.

"Where do you think you're going?" Severus asked as Harry made to leave after hastily sliding his essay across the kitchen table. Harry had made a decent effort to write the essay he'd requested when he found out that he could earn back the right to go to Hogsmeade. Severus was surprised he'd waited until the day before the holidays were to finish to hand it over, but he took it to mean that Harry had taken it seriously.

"I don't have to sit here while you read it, do I?"

"Obviously you do. How else are we going to talk about it?"

"What?" Harry looked appalled at the prospect, as if it was akin to torture having to discuss his work with him.

"Feel free to leave, but I can't guarantee you'll make it to Hogsmeade in October."

"Fine," Harry conceded ungraciously, thumping down into the seat opposite and swinging his leg nervously.

Severus took his time reading. It took a moment to get used to reading Harry's untidy scrawl again, but he'd gotten almost too familiar with it when correcting his homework earlier in the summer, so it was largely simple to decipher once you got past some of Harry's creative spelling. Honestly, a child of his age should not be spelling 'responsibility' with an `a`.

"I don't like the way you've written this," he said as he came to the end of the first sheet of parchment. "It was not the fact that you were fighting that was the main problem. I warned you not to speak to Draco. I told you that he would provoke you and you did not listen."

"I know, I wrote it down. Look," Harry said, leaning cross the table to point to where he'd written about the exchange.

"No, you wrote that I was angry that you were fighting when I warned you not to. For the most part I was angry because I gave you a serious instruction regarding your safety and security and you ignored me. You forced me into a position where I had to jeopardise the trust you placed in me when you said I was the person you were most likely to confide in."

"I still trust you," Harry replied, looking a little confused.

"You also forced me to reveal that there was a possibility of you being taken from your guardians," Severus continued.

"But you were going to do that anyway."

"That doesn't matter. If we choose one plan for your security I expect you to stick to it," he replied forcefully. "We cannot afford to make mistakes. This time it may not matter, but think Harry. What did Draco say to goad you?"

"He said stuff about the Dursleys and you and my mum. About you all not wanting me." Harry's voice was low, most likely from embarrassment. He spoke staring at his parchment, fiddling with the corner so that it creased and wouldn't roll up as it had once done.

After a moment Severus replied. "Your mother loved you, you know that."

"I know," Harry sighed. "But he'd just said about the Dursleys and you and I just–"

"It was not my intention to make you feel unwanted," Severus interrupted quietly.

"I know."

"My point, Harry," he continued, "Is that Draco might have understood that the idea that I did not want you could hurt you."

Harry nodded. "That would have been bad, I guess. Couldn't you just say that it's all an act?"

"No. I'm going to be acting as a spy for the Dark Lord. He could ask me to manipulate you and I will not."

"So you weren't mad at me for fighting with Malfoy just because it was Malfoy?" Yet again Harry's new-found jealousy of Draco reared its head. Severus' lips thinned in irritation.

"You're not to fight with anyone, least of all the son of a Death Eater. I'm not angry with you merely because it was Draco. I know he provoked you and I know full well that he hurt you, physically as well, and I am not pleased, but that is not relevant to you."

"…think it is," Harry said under his breath.

"How much I am pleased or displeased with Draco has no bearing on our relationship. I do not even know how this jealousy of yours began but it is enough now. I want it to stop. I'm trying to discuss your behaviour and yet again we are discussing Draco instead." Honestly, the child needed the same thing drilled into his head repeatedly before it had the slightest hope of getting in there.

"All right. So I need to change that bit then?" Harry asked, pulling the parchment towards him so that he could read what he had written.

"Do you understand what I said to you?" Severus asked, instead of answering his question.

"Yeah. You weren't just mad at me because it was Malfoy. You're mad because I made you have to speak to the Malfoys and I could have made it obvious that I want you to… you know, be my guardian and want me around and stuff."

"Look at me. If I give you an instruction it is because I want to keep you safe. You need to listen to me."

"I know. I wasn't trying to break your rules or put myself in danger or whatever, I just got angry."

"Then you need to learn to control your emotions," Severus said, trying to control his own. He detested it when Harry made excuses for his behaviour. A thought occurred to him, possibly a little ambitious, but it could work. "Perhaps I have a solution for your problem."

"What solution?" Harry replied, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Occlumency. It's a very advanced form of mind magic. I wouldn't normally suggest it, especially considering your age, but just practising may help to get your anger under control. You've mastered the patronus charm?" he verified.

"Yeah."

He nodded, thinking it over. He wouldn't expect Harry to master the art but merely practising clearing his mind would help him to be less volatile. Not to mention it may well break down barriers that would allow him to confide in Severus. Although knowing that he may well have access to his thoughts might make him more than apprehensive about trying. "Let me finish this. We'll discuss occlumency later."

"You've written well about keeping your wand safe and within reach," he conceded as he continued reading.

"I'm not stupid. I just didn't think I'd need to worry at the Quidditch World Cup."

"Your wand is your means of defence, not just a stick that you use to perform magic. The Dark Lord wants to kill you. I need to know that I can leave you alone and that you won't be completely defenceless."

"I thought I was safe though," Harry replied as if that was a valid reason.

"You do not have the liberty of complete safety. I don't think I need to labour the point?"

"No, I get it."

"I realise you were put in a difficult situation regarding my reputation, but it is imperative that you do not come to my defence. Absolutely imperative. All you needed to do was defend yourself. I would not have taught you dark magic because you have no interest in learning it."

"Right," Harry acquiesced easily. At least he was taking that on board. It was perhaps too much to ask of him to be able to think quickly without direction in such a situation but hopefully at least for the future he'd be able to use whatever common sense he possessed.

"This is unacceptable," he said, just as he finished the entire essay. Harry had no difficulty knowing what exactly he found objectionable leading Severus to believe he'd at least written the rest of the essay honestly, not just writing what he thought he ought to write in order to be allowed out on his trips.

"I tell my friends everything, sir," Harry replied with a shrug.

"You will not tell them that you live here with me. Do not fight me on this," he warned.

"They're trustworthy. I need to tell my friends," Harry insisted, his eyes wide, imploring.

"Too many people know already. You have the wolf and your godfather to speak to should you need to discuss our living arrangements," Severus replied shortly.

"They won't tell anyone," Harry insisted.

"They will not because they won't know," Severus said, allowing a hard edge to creep into his voice and replace the calm tone he'd adopted. "A few weeks ago I could not trust you to take the threat on your life seriously enough and you expect me to entrust important information to two more teenagers? No, Harry. Even if they are trustworthy they could be tricked or captured by the Dark Lord or his followers. Good intentions are not enough."

"But you've already told the Malfoys that I don't live at the Dursleys." Harry's voice was taking on its own edge. It was creeping dangerously towards becoming a whine and it set Severus' teeth on edge.

"No, I've given him the idea that you aren't happy with your relatives, that the headmaster has sent you back unwillingly and he has considered not sending you back at all. Should the Dark Lord ever find out that you aren't in their care then it will appear as if I gave them information about it. It merely strengthens my position as a spy."

"Fine!" Harry replied ungraciously. "Can I go to Hogsmeade then?"

"Your tone, Harry," Severus warned him shortly.

Harry huffed out his breath, obviously still irritated. "Sorry. Can I go to Hogsmeade, Professor?"

"Sir or Severus, but yes," he replied. "Harry, give me any hint that I cannot trust you to follow my instructions. That includes confiding in your friends when I've explicitly forbidden it, and you will be banned from Hogsmeade. Permanently. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Harry replied, obviously still irritated but making a quick exit, no doubt to have a sulk somewhere far away from Severus.

Blasted child.

---

H.P.

Later that morning Snape sat him down for a talk about occlumency. He was glad he didn't have to wait until school started because he'd have just asked Hermione what it was and no doubt even that would make him go mental. Harry doubted that Snape could appreciate how difficult it was for him to hide all this from his friends. It meant he had to lie about everything. He had to invent things to write in his letters to them over the summer and that just felt wrong.

"Occlumency is a very difficult art, a form of mind magic that blocks your memories from anyone seeking to retrieve them."

"People can read minds? Can you?" he asked suspiciously. He'd always had a feeling with Snape.

"It is not mind reading in that sense but it is possible for certain wizards to gain access to another's mind using legilimency," he responded delicately.

"Can you though?" 

"I can but that is neither here nor there."

"You've never–?"

"Invaded your mind? Believe me, you'd have noticed," Snape replied darkly before continuing in a more controlled, teacher-like manner. "The reason I want to teach you the basics of occlumency is because in order to keep your memories protected and hidden you need to master your emotions."

"Then how come you can do it? I'm not trying to make you mad but you do sort of go mental sometimes."

"Go mental," Snape repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, you do," Harry replied defensively. It was a fair question.

"I've mastered the art of occlumency. I am quite adept. I have the liberty of being able to occlude whilst at the same time 'going mental'."

"Who am I hiding my memories from?" 

"Anyone who would try to use them against you. That isn't the point of this exercise for you; I merely want to help you control your temper."

"Okay then."

"There is something else. If I were to test your barriers in order to ensure you were completing the exercise, I would almost certainly gain access to your memories." Snape spoke seriously and was watching him as if expecting him to get angry.

"If I'm just practising to control my temper why do you need to read my mind?"

"Occlumency is about blocking the invasion. You cannot learn it without being tested or getting practice. I'm not going to force you to learn it, not now, but I think it would be a useful exercise."

"What do you mean, not now?"

"It may be necessary for you to learn it later; the Dark Lord is a skilled legilimens." It occurred to Harry how much danger that would put Snape in when it came to him spying again. He could be betrayed by his own mind!

"You want to see my memories though," Harry said after a moment.

"Yes. You know I'd like you to discuss your childhood."

"This isn't discussing it though; this is you seeing stuff."

"Snippets of memories, nothing more. I will not be searching your mind, just testing your barrier. If I were to ask you to open up to me about your life with your relatives, could you?"

Harry scrunched his face up in distaste. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't know how to talk about it. I don't know what you want me to say. Why does it matter about the details?"

"The fact that they kept you in a cupboard is hugely important. The fact that you had food withheld from you is important. What if I was the type of man who would lock you in your room as punishment or send you to bed without dinner?"

"You wouldn't," Harry replied with certainty. That just wasn't Severus.

"Some people do," he replied simply, though he looked disapproving at the concept. "I need to know so that I can look after you how you deserve to be looked after. And I need you to talk about it because it's not healthy to bury that kind of abuse away in your mind."

"I thought you wanted me to bury my memories away," Harry asked, aware that he was being difficult.

"From people trying to invade your mind, it's not a bad idea. This isn't the same thing at all. We could deal with each memory as it arose."

Harry sighed and considered the prospect. He was no closer to wanting to talk about anything; he didn't even know where to start or what to say. He didn't want to do it like this either, but if it was to learn occlumency and he might have to do it later then maybe…

"What if… What if I gave it a go but if I don't like it we can stop?" 

"I said that I wouldn't force you. If you don't want to do it then we won't. If you decide to try, then later you don't want to do it any more, then we won't," he replied simply.

"Fine then… I'll try it." Snape looked pleased at his answer which strangely enough made him glad he'd agreed to it.

"Now?"

"Okay," Harry agreed.

S.S.

He had Harry merely sit quietly to begin with and he instructed him to empty his mind. That was where they hit the first problem.

"I don't get how to clear my mind. How can you just think of nothing?" Harry complained after barely a minute in silence.

"You aren't thinking of nothing; you just aren't thinking," Severus replied. "Shut your eyes," he ordered. It was difficult teaching someone who couldn't even wrap their mind around the first step.

For Severus it had been instinctual, locking away his memories and thoughts and feelings became a ritual and then a habit, so learning occlumency had come as natural as breathing to him.

"How can you just not think? Everyone thinks all the time."

"You seem to spend a good deal of your time not thinking, perhaps you can revisit our potions lessons in your mind," Severus suggested acerbically.

"No, thanks."

"Eyes closed. Start by putting away your memories. You can think, you can hear me talking but you have no past. There's nothing but what you can sense now." He waited a moment to allow Harry to try and to see if he'd give up and question him again. When he made no move to speak Severus continued. "Now you can't think, you can hear things but you don't need to think about it, they just are." He let Harry be for a minute or two until Harry stirred himself.

"Makes you sleepy," he said, not lifting his head from where he was resting.

"I suppose your mind is fairly blank just before you fall asleep," Severus conceded. "Try it again, but this time I'm going to test you to see if you've succeeded."

Harry shut his eyes but after half a minute opened them again. "I can't concentrate now," he said, eyeing Severus' wand as if he was about to legilimise him at any moment.

"I don't want you to concentrate; I want you to clear your mind."

"All right, I can't do it 'cause I keep expecting you to try to read my mind."

Severus decided to ignore Harry's phrasing. If he wanted to call it mind reading despite him saying that wasn't what it was, then so be it. "I'm not going to try to break into your mind with force." He tried not to sound frustrated that Harry was anxious. It was only natural considering he was probably expecting him to make some move to attempt to see his past.

He gave Harry some time to settle back down before he probed at his mind. Initially, it seemed that Harry had done something, but the moment Harry sensed the intrusion any barrier to his mind, however thin, disappeared, and Severus all but fell into Harry's memories.

He saw flashes of things, glimpses of his relatives, his friends at Hogwarts, even himself before he managed to pull himself out.

"You said you wouldn't try to get in," Harry said, obviously annoyed.

"I didn't try. You dropped your barrier. I saw nothing, not for more than a second."

"Really?"

"If you want to continue with this then get used to the idea that I will see things. You had achieved something. You seemed to have pushed your memories and thoughts away but you have no real barrier or control. I could break through it with ease. In fact, the moment you sensed my presence you let me in. Occlumency is very much about being able to separate your thoughts and memories from your conscious self, but you need to be able to do it constantly or at a moments notice and then you need to hold that barrier up."

Harry looked at him as if he'd gone mad. "I don't expect you to be able to do it now. I want you to practice clearing your mind so that you know what it feels like. Once you can separate yourself from your thoughts and memories with ease, we'll move on."

"When you were spying before, wasn't Voldemort suspicious that you were blocking your mind?" Harry asked, frowning.

"A truly competent occlumens can feed false images or make it appear as if he is not as adept as he is. The Dark Lord was not aware that I was occluding in his presence." He put extra stress on the name to warn Harry that he wasn't going to tolerate hearing him use that name again. The child was too stubborn sometimes. It was the headmaster's influence that caused Harry to throw the name about so carelessly.

---

H.P.

Harry double checked his trunk in his room as per Severus' instructions. This was actually the third time he'd had to do it; Severus insisted he do it all over again whenever he found something lying around that Harry hadn't noticed.

He was excited to go to Hogwarts and see his friends again. It was rubbish that quidditch was cancelled this year for some tournament that he was too young to even take part in though.

Only, he wasn't going to be able to see Snape much apart from in class and he was going to have to go back to being horrible to again, at least in front of everyone else. Maybe with these Occlumency lessons Snape wanted him to do, he'd have more of a reason to go visit him.

It wasn't that he was a child and couldn't bear to be away from him, but he didn't want him to forget that they got on. He wouldn't bring up school again with Snape though, in case he started banging on about being discreet and checking letters before he sends them out and how to be subtle...

It wasn't just that Snape felt he needed to say it all at least once a day for the last week but he said it in a way that made it obvious he didn't think Harry would manage it. At least he could go to Hogsmeade this year. Well, at least he could go without getting in a lot of trouble.

"Sir? What's for dinner?" Harry asked, leaning up against the counter next to where he was writing. He wasn't trying to get his attention, not much... He had thought Snape might actually spend a bit of time with him seeing as it was the last night of the holidays. He hadn't even taken him to the flying pitch today or anything.

"Choose," he responded, flicking a stack of flyers across the counter to Harry.

"We're having a take away?" Harry asked, leafing through all of them. "I thought we couldn't have stuff delivered here because of the wards."

"I'm going to fetch it myself. I have no intention of being here for the next hour or so," Snape answered, ignoring the look of confusion on Harry's face. "Choose," he insisted again.

---

"Behave yourself," Snape said as the floo flared to life.

Remus' voice floated out from the living room. "We've arrived. Is that announcement enough?" he asked, his voice laced with humour.

"We?" Harry asked before his face split into a wide grin and he dashed out to the living room to see if it was in fact Sirius with Remus.

"Hi Harry. It's good to see you again," Sirius said smiling warmly. He looked a little more worn and tired than he had before, probably because he wasn't allowed to stay with Remus. He'd mentioned having to live rough and keep moving but he still looked better than when he first met him.

"I didn't think I'd get to see you for ages." He could barely believe he was seeing him now. Snape actually let him come over! "Did you get my last letter?"

"I've got all your letters," he replied happily.

"I'm under strict instructions not to feed you again. Have you already eaten?" Remus asked by way of a greeting.

"No, Severus is getting take out," Harry replied, turning to look for him. "Sir?" he called, poking his head back into the kitchen, which was empty. "Oh, I think he's gone."

"So, tell me what you've been doing here then," Sirius said, making himself comfortable in Harry's usual seat, though he suddenly looked a lot less happy than before and he shot Remus a look that Harry couldn't quite fathom.

"Umm, not a lot. I go flying quite a bit. Severus takes me to this big public pitch and I use that snitch he got me. Did Remus tell you about the Quidditch World Cup?" he added with a little trepidation. He was unsure why he was nervous mentioning it; he had thought that Sirius would be on his side after all.

"Yeah, he said you'd gotten yourself in some trouble," Sirius replied vaguely.

"Did you make it sound really bad?" Harry asked Remus.

"Feel free to tell Sirius yourself," Remus replied, gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

"Fine, I'll tell it. You can't get mad at me though, I've already been told off by Snape and Remus." For some reason Sirius suddenly looked a little less irritated than before.

"I didn't tell you off. I just said that you did something wrong," Remus contradicted him.

"Well, you agreed with Snape anyway," Harry replied dismissively. It was the same thing in his book.

"Really?" Sirius asked, sending a surprised look at his friend.

"Let Harry tell you about it. Where's the television gone?"

"Snape put it away. He said that I'd survived the whole summer without it and I didn't need to use the last few days of the holidays to turn my brain to mush… or something like that."

---

Harry was just considering how long it really took for a wizard to go and get some Chinese food when it began.

"Oh, ow, ow," Harry yelped, his hands flying up to his forehead as pain suddenly seared from his scar and straight through his skull. He could think of nothing but the pain, forgetting at once where he was and who he was with. It was like his head was being split in two. "Snape!" Harry called. He was usually there already. Where was he?

"What's the matter?" He heard rather than saw Remus ask.

"My scar–" he mumbled, clutching his head. "Get Snape."

"He needs a pain reliever. Remus, get a potion." Sirius' voice was tinged with panic. Harry's legs gave out and he buried his head in his hands, taking in loud, harsh gasps of air. Where was Snape? He needed Snape. Why was no one getting him?

"Harry, it's all right," Sirius began, reaching out to comfort him.

"No, I need Snape," Harry bit out from behind gritted teeth, shrugging him off. Another tortured moan escaped him.

"It's going to be fine. Remus is getting you a pain reliever."

S.S.

Just as Severus was returning to Spinner's End he felt the wards on his potions store flare. Someone was breaking them down! He came in stealthily through the front door, ready to surprise whichever of the fools thought they could break into his private stores.

Just as he was about to demand just what exactly was going on, he heard a noise that had made his chest clench painfully.

"SNAPE–"

"He's not here, Harry," Black said as though he'd had to repeat himself.

The sight that met him when he entered the living room made his blood run cold. He'd done this with those damned occlumency lessons. Harry was taking in sharp gasps of air from the floor, rocking slightly, hands covering his forehead.

"Get him then," Harry replied to Black, who was doing nothing to stop Harry clawing at his head. Snape summoned a pain reliever from the stores he was certain Lupin had been trying to get into, grimacing as it took a moment to arrive and Harry called his name again.

"Move," he hissed the moment the vial touched his fingers. Black might have said something in reply, but if he did Severus didn't hear, so focused as he was on Harry, whose head lifted for the first time since Severus had entered the room.

Trickles of blood dripped from Harry's forehead between his fingers and Severus' heart tightened painfully again. He should never have tried teaching him occlumency.

"My head–" Harry started, eyes wide. Tears streamed down his face.

Severus immediately dropped to his knees. "Swallow," he instructed, holding a vial of pain reliever to Harry's lips. "A bit more, head back." He used his hand to support the back of Harry's head in an effort to get the last drops from the vial into his mouth. He didn't know how much good the pain reliever would do, but he suspected it could at least make it bearable.

"Hands down," he ordered to try to stop him doing any more damage to his scar. When Harry didn't comply, he pulled them down and held them tightly in one of his own to stop the child scratching at himself, and remained holding Harry's head in the other. Harry scrunched up his eyes and groaned.

"Accio flannel." The moment his hand left Harry's head, the child looked for other means of support, and he ended up leaning against Severus. "Aguamenti," Severus murmured, wetting the flannel and hoping the potion was working. "Lean back. I need to see your scar."

When Harry made no attempt to do so, he prised Harry away from his chest and leaned him back against the bottom of the armchair. His scar was blazing a deep blood red and bleeding cuts surrounded it. Severus placed the flannel over it just to stop Harry hurting himself further. He was well aware that it could give little more than slight comfort.

"Why hasn't it worked?" Lupin asked from somewhere over his shoulder.

"Is it only your scar or your whole head?" Severus asked, ignoring Lupin's question. He squeezed Harry's hands to get his attention, turning the flannel over so that the cool side was against his head. Tears were still leaking out of Harry's eyes and his teeth were gritted. Severus brushed his thumb in small circles against the hands he was holding.

"Both. Head, scar," Harry managed. He took in a deep breath, almost convulsing in pain and tried to lift his hands again. Severus increased the pressure of the flannel pressed against his head.

"Lupin– the salve on the top shelf," he tossed out quickly to save himself having to release Harry.

"What's wrong with him?" Black asked.

"Is the pain lessening?" Severus asked Harry. Either the potion would settle in his system and work or Harry would have to ride out the pain.

"No."

Harry turned abruptly to the side and threw up. Severus wiped his face with the damp flannel and summoned another pain reliever. He heard someone breathe out a quick evanesco.

"Swallow." He held the second pain reliever to Harry's lips just as he'd done with the first, hoping Harry wouldn't throw the second one up. He needed it in his system if it was going to have any effect. He never thought that Harry would have this strong a reaction to the occlumency practice, but he should have factored in the fact that his scar had bothered him previously. He should have been more careful.

"Snape, what's wrong with him?"

"Shut up, Black!" He couldn't just sit and wait to see if the potion would work or if it would stop of its own accord. "Harry, I need you to try to clear your mind again." In the absence of a cloth for his head Harry automatically tried to raise his hands but Severus held them firmly in place.

"Couldn't do it earlier," Harry muttered, leaning forward to press his head against the closest thing to him. Severus shifted to the side to let him lean more comfortably against him and held the back of his head in place with his free hand.

"Breathe in time with me," he instructed, releasing Harry's hands and wrapping an arm around his shoulder to support him better, his hand resuming the circular motion he'd begun earlier. His heart was hammering. If Harry couldn't help himself and the potion had no effect he had no idea how long an episode like this could continue. Harry's hands gripped Snape's robes, pulling on the collar so that the edge cut into Severus' neck. Severus shifted to hold him more securely, trying to slow his breathing and count Harry's breaths.

After a minute Harry's breathing became regular and he seemed to relax slightly. He couldn't be sure whether it was because the episode had stopped or Harry had succeeded in clearing his mind, but Severus let him remain undisturbed until the child had relaxed completely. He stilled his hand against the back of Harry's head. "Don't fall asleep," he warned.

H.P.

"I'm not," Harry mumbled against Severus' shoulder drowsily. He was quite comfortable where he was, until he heard a throat being cleared above him that definitely wasn't Snape's.

"'S better. Thanks," he said, pulling away and rubbing his eyes slightly, pretending that he hadn't just been snivelling like a child against Snape.

"Don't move. The pain is gone completely?" Snape said, tilting his chin up to inspect his head.

"No, still hurts a bit, like a headache and my scar's a bit–"

"Stop irritating your scar or I'll stick your hands to the floor," Snape threatened and Harry jerked his hands down. He hadn't realised he was rubbing at his scar. Remus held out a small jar of greenish looking paste and Snape reached out to take it.

Harry caught sight of Sirius' face. He was scowling down at Snape and the effect was quite intimidating. He looked like the wanted posters that had been up after he escaped from Azkaban.

"Look this way. I need to heal your forehead," he said, though he turned Harry's head himself as though he was incapable of independent movement.

"My scar's bleeding?"

"You cut your head scratching at it. Up," Severus commanded once he'd finished dabbing the paste onto his head. Harry made to stand but it seemed Snape had said it as more of a warning and scooped him up himself and put him on the sofa.

"Professor– Severus, sorry– I can stand!"

"You're not going to be standing any time soon. You're going to sit right there."

---

Harry and Remus were silent as Snape and Sirius argued just slightly out of earshot in the kitchen. Harry sighed. He hadn't been able to look at Remus or Sirius since Snape had ordered him to remain where he was. God, he'd cried. Well, not sobbing, but there had been tears and he'd been clinging on to Snape like a toddler and he'd called for him, more than once. It was so embarrassing.

What was worse was that he'd enjoyed being held by Snape and the man was only ever like that when he was sick, really sick, but there was this irritating feeling in the back of his mind saying that he still needed Snape now and he really just wished he could have had Snape sit with him for a little bit longer.

"You think I haven't looked after him before? I am perfectly capable–" came Snape's shout, his incredulity making his voice audible.

"I know what you're capable of Snape!"

"You're an awfully lucky young man," Remus said suddenly.

"Am I?"

"There are two men in there fighting because they both want to take care of you," he said. "I'd better go in before it gets any worse." Harry nodded, not feeling as lucky as Remus seemed to think he should.

"Remus? Can you get me a glass of water?" he called out suddenly.

"Severus, sorry, can I have a word with Sirius for a moment? Oh and Harry wants some water."

"I know he does. I can hear him," Snape bit out, stomping back into the living room where Harry was resting on the sofa. "Wake up," he growled. Harry blinked blearily and saw Snape holding out a glass of water, his face set in a dark scowl that mirrored Sirius' earlier. "You can't fall asleep. There's a strong chance that the pain will start again."

Harry didn't reply but took the water and drank it thirstily.

"I think it's time we were leaving. I hope you feel better soon," Remus said in a falsely cheery voice that made everyone even more aware of the tension between the other two men.

Sirius didn't look happy at the prospect of leaving but he nodded and came to kneel beside Harry. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, ask me. I'm your godfather."

"I know," Harry replied, appalled to feel his voice so thick in his throat. Sirius was looking even more reluctant to leave and Harry found himself looking up at Snape and Remus for help. "I'll write to you soon," he offered.

Sirius, his godfather and his father's best friend, was in front of him wanting him to go to him and rely on him, and he was sitting on the sofa of a man who hated his father feeling sorry for himself because he, for some unknown reason, really wanted a hug.

How ridiculous. He wanted a hug from Snape because he had a bit of a headache.

"All right," Sirius sighed. "Bye kiddo."

"Bye."

S.S.

Severus watched Harry carefully through the exchange. He seemed... off and Severus was unsure whether it was caused by his falling ill or the fact that he would miss Black while he was at Hogwarts. It would be the first time he had gone to school since finding out the man was his godfather. Perhaps he was feeling just as melancholy as he had when Severus had overheard him alone in Hogwarts.

Severus for his part was relieved as the floo changed from green back to a lifeless grate. As if Black had any idea how to look after a teenager. And as if Severus hadn't been doing just that all summer. He was perfectly able to care for Harry. It was his name he'd been calling, not Black's.

"Hungry?" he inquired and Harry shrugged. He went to fetch Harry's food nonetheless. He wasn't going to let him miss a meal.

"Severus? Thanks for letting Sirius come over," Harry said when Severus handed him his plate.

"You enjoyed the visit, aside from the ending?" he asked, trying to figure out Harry's change in mood.

"Yeah, it was good," Harry said vaguely. "I'm sorry I threw up on the floor."

"Try not to bring up vomit when I'm eating, and don't apologise for being ill." Especially if it's my fault. He couldn't bring himself to explain to Harry why he had been in so much pain a few moments before, not that Harry was in any state to hear it.

Severus let him eat in silence until Harry's eyes started drooping of their own accord. "Harry, is there any pain in your head?" he asked, taking his plate away.

"Bit, yeah."

"Eyes open," he ordered. "What kind of pain?"

"Just achy. I'm tired."

"You need to stay awake while I make some changes to the dreamless sleep potion. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, s'pose," he said, just as his eyes shut once more. Severus tilted Harry's head up slightly to get him to open his eyes again.

"If I bring down the television, will you stay awake?" Severus asked. He'd heard of parents bribing their children. Perhaps in this instance it was somewhat warranted.

H.P.

It had been ages since Snape had gone to do something to one of his potions and Harry's eyes were aching from rubbing them to stay awake. It probably didn't help that he'd burrowed into the warmest, most comfortable bit of the sofa to wait. 

"No, you don't," Snape said, pulling him up from where he was lying and holding a vial to his lips, just as he had done twice earlier that day.

"What's it?" Harry mumbled, wincing at the horrible taste.

"It was dreamless sleep but I tweaked it so that it didn't send you to sleep. I don't think you need any help with that and you've got to be up for the train tomorrow," he replied. "Come on, bed."

Just the idea of leaving the nice warm comfortable sofa made Harry groan and burrow back into it. "You either get yourself up those stairs or I will pick you up and put you to bed myself."

"All right," Harry said, dragging himself off of the chair and stumbling sleepily up to the stairs. Snape followed close behind and if Harry hadn't been too tired to care very much he would have said that the man was fussing. He moved Harry's trunk out the way, drew his curtains, fished out Harry's pyjamas, threw them at him and pulled back Harry's duvet.

"I'm going to check on you in five minutes. Be asleep."

S.S.

He gave him ten minutes really, but when he checked on Harry he was most definitely asleep. He hadn't managed to get under the covers but he'd washed up and gotten changed which was more than he'd expected. He'd half expected him to just crawl under the covers in his jeans and t-shirt. He tucked the covers around the child wondering why he was getting used to the action.

 

 

S.S.

"How do you feel?" Severus asked, pulling the curtains open and flooding the room with early morning sun.

"Like sleeping," Harry mumbled into his pillow.

"How is your head?" he clarified, peering at his face for signs of paleness or fever.

"I'm right as rain. Going back to sleep." With that Harry rolled over and pulled his duvet over his head.

"Get up. You have twenty minutes to be washed, dressed and at the kitchen table," Severus ordered, free to return to his usual tone now that he had ascertained Harry's good health.

"Train's not 'til eleven," Harry whined from somewhere under a mass of duvet.

"Twenty minutes," he repeated firmly.

Severus tidied up the kitchen absentmindedly in preparation for leaving, his usual start of term gloom beginning to settle. He never enjoyed going back to teaching after a pleasant summer in his own company, but this September his reluctance for term to start seemed odd. It was hardly as if he'd had the relaxing summer he'd earned after a hard year's work at Hogwarts, but he still wasn't ready for it to be over just yet. There was so much left unfinished. Harry still didn't feel comfortable enough to begin talking about his relatives and they'd only just settled into what passed for a pleasant routine.

Harry shuffled tiredly into the kitchen in what was clearly more teenage laziness than illness, although he'd no doubt exhausted himself the evening before. Severus flicked his wand, sending a full bowl of cereal in Harry's direction as said boy sat himself at the kitchen table.

Harry dunked his spoon loudly into his bowl of cereal, pulling a face at his soggy cornflakes before speaking. "Severus? What made it so bad this time? I wasn't ill or asleep and it was a million times worse." His voice was tinged with interest, as if the pain of the night before was inconsequential or a mere distant memory.

"You finished off your box of cereal yesterday. I'm not opening a new box for one morning," Severus commented as Harry tried to peer around him to see if his usual cereal was on the counter. "And to answer your question, I did. The fault lies with me. I believe that I increased your sensitivity to the Dark Lord when I slipped into your mind. I should have considered the repercussions of allowing you to practice mind magic when you were experiencing pain in your scar."

"That's okay," Harry said after a moment.

"It's not okay," Severus disagreed. "I do not know what effect this will continue to have on you. From what I've seen your episodes been slowly increasing in intensity but to get to that extreme… I would hope that if I do not further intrude in your mind then the episodes will go back to being infrequent and far less painful."

"We're not going to do it any more?"

What is wrong with the child? "Of course we're not going to do it any more! You were in agony."

"But what if it carries on anyway? Then it wouldn't make a difference."

"It could worsen. There is no need to put you in pain for the sake of Occlumency. You can still clear your mind if you wish to."

"If I could do this Occlumency stuff properly then it wouldn't happen at all, would it?"

"You're fourteen years old and only just. You will not be able to master Occlumency with any amount of speed. It is unnecessary at this stage. if I had left you be then you would not have been in such pain."

"Yeah, but if Voldemort comes back then won't it get worse?"

"When the Dark Lord comes back. I've got time to set you a punishment before you leave for the train. Do not say that name in front of me again."

"It would though, wouldn't it?" Harry persisted.

"Yesterday you didn't want to do it at all and after the extraordinary amount of pain you suffered I fail to see why you're so eager to continue."

"I just think that maybe if I learned it then it would be better in the long run." Severus shook his head. For Harry that sounded like a reasonably well thought out and mature answer, which made him certain that Harry was hiding his true motive, not that he had the slightest idea what that might be.

"I will discuss the matter with the headmaster," he conceded, merely because it was the truth. "As it stands, Harry, it is a no."

"It's my head," Harry argued indignantly.

"But it is my choice," Severus said, closing the matter.

H.P.

Severus pulled Harry's trunk over to the floo and stacked Hedwig's empty cage on top of it before turning to face him.

"You've packed everything?" Snape asked, continuing what Harry considered was an unhealthy obsession with his school trunk.

"Yes, I've packed like a million times–"

"You're certain that everything you need is in that trunk?" Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape's tone. He thinks he's got something… What could he have left out? He wracked his brains for a few moments and still drew a blank.

"Yes," he replied confidently after a moment.

"You've not left anything out this morning that you want to pack?"

"No."

"You're aware that I'm not going to come back here to fetch anything you've forgotten?"

"Yes!"

"You've left a pair of your pyjamas out, Harry."

"I know. I'm leaving them here." Harry rolled his eyes. He'd actually quite purposefully placed them on the end of his bed. He'd even folded them instead of tossing them onto his pillow. It was a nice thought that he could leave something behind to come back to; he'd never wanted to do that before. All his belongings actually did fit in his trunk, even though with the clothes Snape got him it was a bit more of a squeeze than usual. But it'd be nice if one day he could still have stuff in his room after he'd packed for Hogwarts, just stuff for home.

"If you need more space in your trunk you could try folding your clothes. I guarantee you could fit everything in."

"I know I can fit them in. Why can't I leave them here?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply but then seemed to change his mind before settling on saying, "You can leave them here if you wish. I'm not coming back for them during term. If they're here then they're here."

"That's fine," Harry replied.

S.S.

"Remember, we do not like each other. I despise you and you loathe me. Do not call me Severus unless we're alone and even then take care that you won't be heard." He wanted to be positive that Harry understood. A slip up on his part would be disastrous.

"I know."

"Be careful what you write to your godfather and Lupin and do not refer to me specifically unless you are writing about me as your teacher."

"I know."

"Behave yourself. No fighting with anyone, not Draco, not any Slytherins, no one."

"I won't."

"No trouble this year, no fighting the Dark Lord, no escaped prisoners, no basilisks, no dementors–"

"Are you serious?" Harry asked in mock outrage. "No basilisks? But I'm always fighting basilisks. It's pretty much a sport for me now. When aren't I down in the chamber of secrets hanging out with–"

"I was being serious. I do not appreciate being mocked," Severus interrupted.

"Well, I didn't do any of that stuff on purpose," Harry huffed.

"Don't do it at all. If you get into trouble, if you suspect anything is amiss, come and find me or the headmaster or Professor McGonagall."

"All right," Harry conceded. "So I take it fighting with trolls is banned as well?" he asked, grinning.

Severus gave him a look that said quite clearly that he didn't consider any of it a joking matter.

"I'll be good," Harry insisted.

Severus could have sighed. It was impossible to believe it was all going to go smoothly this term, despite Harry's best intentions. He reached up to pull down the floo powder from the mantle but was forced to abort the movement as Harry abruptly threw his arms around Severus' middle. "Right. So, bye then," he declared, during what was possibly the briefest, most awkward hug he had ever been forced to endure, especially considering Harry followed it up by crossing his arms, along with a stubborn glare that quite clearly said 'Yeah, that was a hug. What of it?'

The child must have gone temporarily mad. What had possessed him? Harry remained unmoved, his stance clearly defensive. Severus cleared his throat. He shouldn't just leave things like this, but he couldn't bring himself to move or initiate any form of physical affection in return. He found himself in the altogether unusual situation of being rendered incapable of both movement and speech.

After a painfully long and awkward silence, Severus did the only thing he could and took down the dish of floo powder that was resting on the mantle.

---

It was only natural, in fact it was only right that Harry craved physical affection, Severus mused, watching Harry drag his trunk towards the entrance to King's Cross. He was not incognizant of the emotional needs of children and just because Harry had not received that level of affection from his relatives didn't mean he didn't need it at all. In fact, it may well be a step in the right direction for the child, and it was a good thing that Harry wanted parental affection and he should have it. He would have it if he had any say in the matter.

Severus stalked through the crowds of commuters and travellers surging towards the station to make his own way to Hogwarts for the start of term.

H.P.

"Hermione!" Harry called, spotting her instantly as he negotiated his way through the crowds of parents, trunks, owl cages and younger brothers and sisters that had no right being so short that it was that easy to trip over them.

"Harry! I was hoping we'd find you before we got on the train. How have you been?" 

"Same as really. Have the Weasleys gotten here yet?" Harry asked, craning his head to try and see around a large gaggle of Hufflepuffs.

"Yes, everyone's just a bit further up."

"Did you enjoy the rest of the summer?" Harry asked and hopped to the side to narrowly avoid walking straight into a Slytherin prefect's trunk.

"Oh, yes, definitely. I managed to get through our new textbooks just in time," Hermione replied, negotiating her way through the crowd with rather more grace than Harry possessed as he tried to keep Hedwig's cage from toppling off his trunk.

Harry shook his head. Surely that was what class was for? Why learn it all beforehand?

"Oh, I wanted to ask, you did manage to get hold of all your textbooks didn't you? I thought with the Dursleys that you might not have gotten the chance," Hermione asked, radiating honest concern.

"No, I've got them."

"Hey, Harry!" Ron yelled across the platform, earning a mild glare from Ginny who looked as if she'd very nearly been deafened. Harry laughed as he greeted the group and was instantly swooped down on by Mrs Weasley, asking everything from how he was to exclaiming that it was such a shame that he couldn't have stayed with them for the rest of the summer. He was reminded yet again to behave along with Ron, though in much kinder tones than Snape, of course.

Soon enough they were happily leaning out of their carriage window, waving as everyone became tiny blurs and the platform disappeared from sight completely. Harry couldn't help but collapse back onto his seat with a wide grin.

Ron settled down next to him, looking, if possible, even more content than Harry. "You have no idea how happy I am that Percy finished Hogwarts last year. I was gutted you had to back to the muggles but at least you missed out on Percy's lectures. You wouldn't believe it was possible for him to be even more of an arrogant, dull git."

Harry happily listened to Ron rant about Percy and then he was rapidly filled in on all the trouble the twins had gotten into and he'd missed out on. He was dying to tell them all about how there wasn't going to be quidditch this year and about the Triwizard Tournament. It was even worse when Ron said how Percy was still going on about some big secret to do with Hogwarts… He was itching to say something but he knew he shouldn't, well, he couldn't. It wasn't worth ruining everything with Snape, not now, and he wasn't about to risk getting banned from Hogsmeade for the sake of waiting a few hours.

"Hey, Harry, can I see your charms essay?" Ron said, waving his own under Harry's nose and distracting Harry from his thoughts.

"Look at Hermione's, it's going to be better than mine."

"He's not looking at mine. He had all summer to get it done."

"Snape's essay took longer than I thought it would," Ron said defensively.

"You still had plenty of time. It's your own fault you started your homework a week before we had to go back."

"It's not a holiday if you spend all summer working. Harry?"

"All right," Harry agreed and began rummaging through his trunk, ignoring the look of disapproval from Hermione.

"Whoa, you went all out with this. It's almost Hermione standard," Ron said, practically in awe as he read over it.

"No, it's not."

"It is good, Harry," Hermione said, sounding surprised but impressed as she read over Ron's shoulder.

"Did the Dursleys ease up on you doing your homework then?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, they, er, got warned off not letting me do it when I went back to stay with them."

"Oh, I suppose you had nothing better to do. Tough luck mate."

"Should I be offended that you guys think I can't write a decent essay?" Harry laughed.

"Nah, I'd like to think I could write a really good essay if I wanted to," Ron said with a grin as he started to scratch out a few more lines for his own essay.

"Then why don't you?" Hermione asked.

"I don't want to," he replied and Harry laughed.

---

 

"Honestly, it was beautiful this summer and I'd never been before but I'd obviously read about it before we arrived–"

"Read as many books as you want, Granger, it won't make you any less of a mudblood." Malfoy leaned against the carriage door, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron said, making to stand but Harry pulled him back into his seat.

"Leave it, Ron. It's fine," Hermione said. "I don't care what he thinks."

"Yeah, Weasley, take a leaf out of Potter's book. He's had plenty of practice sitting around and taking abuse from what I hear."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione interjected. Harry balled his hands into fists. He knew this was coming; he could take it.

"I got to hear all about it," Malfoy continued delightedly. "You think you're some sort of big powerful wizard, some sort of hero, but you're worse than the mudblood and the blood traitor. Even the muggles are pushing you about."

"Get out, Malfoy–" Ron growled. Harry's nails were cutting into his palm.

"You're a joke of a wizard, Potter. You're weak and everyone's going to hear about it," Malfoy snarled contemptuously. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed beside him.

Ron made to stand again. "I'll give you some abuse to take, you little–"

Harry pulled out his wand, stepped in front of Ron, and pointed it squarely in Malfoy's face. "I stand up to who I want, when I want. Try me, Malfoy. You can't even walk in here without your bodyguards. Don't you talk to me about weakness."

"Put your wand down, Harry," Hermione hissed.

"What's going on in here then?" came Fred or George's jovial tone behind the three Slytherins. Harry held his wand steady but it seemed Malfoy and his cronies had the sense to know when they were outnumbered and slunk out. Malfoy stopped just long enough to treat Fred and George to a look of disgust.

"He's a nasty piece of work that one," George commented, scowling down the corridor at the retreating Slytherins, and they had no trouble guessing which one he meant.

"Yeah, don't we know it," Harry muttered.

"Onto brighter things then," Fred said cheerfully, dropping into the seat opposite Harry's.

"We had some things we wanted to show you, quality merchandise if you will…" George began and Harry was happily distracted from Malfoy and his threats.

S.S.

"Severus, my boy, do come in. Lemon sherbet?" To the man's credit he actually managed to look pleased about Severus' arrival. In light of this, he merely waved the offer away instead of greeting it with a caustic remark.

"Harry's scar's been causing him problems again," he stated, intending to get to the heart of the matter sooner rather than later.

"The episodes are worsening?"

"I don't think it was a regular episode. His condition was aggravated earlier that day, which I have surmised caused a stronger than usual reaction."

The headmaster nodded slowly from his seat behind the desk. "Aggravated in what way?"

"I was attempting to teach the child Occlumency and I inadvertently slipped past his defences. He was in agony. It was as if he was being tortured. I couldn't be sure if it was some sort of deliberate attack or if he was suffering from increased sensitivity."

"I see," he replied calmly, appearing deep in thought.

"I see?" Severus repeated disbelievingly. "That's all you have to say on the matter? I caused the child unbearable pain. I didn't think about his condition or the consequences. I was a thoroughly irresponsible guardian. Don't you have anything to say to that?" he demanded, aware that he was beginning to raise his voice.

"Severus–"

"I said I could protect him better than his relatives and I've failed already. I've proved you right, have I not?"

"If I may say so, you are being both ridiculous and melodramatic. I'm certain it wasn't your intention to cause Harry any pain." Severus scowled, mildly affronted at being referred to as ridiculous.

"Should I assume that you agree with my hypothesis?" he asked stiffly after a long moment of silence.

"I would say that your actions may have triggered something but if I'm to assume that you didn't attack Harry's mind with any force then it is curious. Harry's situation is quite singular. The only thing to do would be to continue to monitor him and any pain he experiences. Continuing the Occlumency now that you've begun may well be the only course of action that can definitively stop the episodes and protect his mind."

"Occlumency is the reason we're having this discussion. He's barely fourteen; he will not be able to make significant improvement. It would get far worse before it got better."

"We only assume that the Occlumency may have been a contributing factor. I am not saying that it is necessary to teach Harry anything at the moment. We shall see how he gets on before making any decisions."

"If you do not think it was the Occlumency, then what do you believe caused his pain?"

"It would not do to speculate until we have more information."

Severus tried to hold back his frustration. He was well aware that the headmaster was subtly trying to end the conversation but he was certain he was not being given all the information.

"But you have an idea?" he persisted.

"A great number of them, my boy."

Severus folded his arms across his chest. "We will discuss this again, headmaster."

"Certainly," Dumbledore replied with a grave nod. "Alastor will be arriving today to take up the defence against the Defence Against the Dark Arts position."

Severus scowled all the more darkly at this pronouncement. "I should be grateful to be able to walk the halls in peace while I can?"

"It will not hurt to have an ex-auror's presence in the school this year and we will of course be entertaining an ex-Death Eater."

"Igor's a coward. Lucius poses a greater threat and he walks these halls quite regularly," Severus replied. "I guarantee you Igor Karkaroff has no desire to see the Dark Lord return."

"But return he will and I fear it could be sooner rather than later."

---

 

Severus sat in his usual seat at the Head Table as the staff waited for the children to arrive. He tried in vain to ignore the chatter beside him as Sprout and Flitwick debated how the House Points would be affected this coming year with quidditch cancelled. Given that he knew that much of their discussion he realised he was doing a poor job of drowning out their mundane conversation. Besides, they were both highly mistaken in thinking that just because quidditch was cancelled that they stood a chance for the year's cup.

Moody, he noted, had yet to grace the school with his presence, but that could only be considered a blessing. The man was by now likely to be raving mad, his paranoia only escalating with age. He'd heard he'd set fire to his own wooden leg because he was convinced someone had managed to curse it.

The headmaster looked unusually preoccupied, more than likely wondering if Moody was sane enough to have changed his mind about taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. Unlikely.

Severus broke out of his thoughts as the doors to the great hall opened and the students began to file in. He didn't look out for a messy head of hair or the shock of red he knew would be beside it, focussing instead on seeing his Slytherins settle down on their table. He cast a dark look at any other student who happened to catch his eye as he scanned the far side of the room. Moody still hadn't appeared along with the students, not that even he'd arrive in the same style as Lupin… Taking the train with the children, the man had no dignity.

Without conscious thought his eyes landed on the Gryffindor table. Harry wasn't hard to spot, sitting amongst a gaggle of Weasleys and chatting exuberantly. It reminded him forcefully of seeing James Potter amongst his peers sitting at that very table. The differences from this distance were subtle but he found himself wondering how he could have missed them. James would undoubtedly be found in the centre, breakfast, lunch and dinner without fail. He would be the loudest of the lot, often turning his head to glance the length of the table to see who had heard his joke or who was paying him attention. Harry was doing no such thing. He was quite happy sitting and talking to his friends.

As if he knew he was being watched, Harry turned to the Head Table and Snape met his eyes with what he knew would be a look of loathing, which Harry, to his credit, returned with a passable glare of his own.

Minerva made her way into the hall leading the first years and Severus watched the sorting intently, trying to see which of them he recognised from the pureblood families and which seemed likely to go into Slytherin. He had a knack for guessing which house the first years would be sorted into, although he wouldn't have guessed bumbling Longbottom to be anything but a Hufflepuff from the moment he'd laid eyes on him.

H.P.

Harry watched Severus intently, though this time it was probably all right because Hermione had pointed out that he looked positively furious. It seemed that the appearance of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher could cause the same look of hatred that Harry used to inspire. He didn't have long to think about it as Dumbledore made his quick introductions and continued with his speech. One of Professor Moody's eyes was roving the hall independently of the other and the man looked grizzled and worn.

"Mad-eye Moody," one of the twins murmured at him. "Used to be an auror, gone a bit barmy now."

Harry looked back at Snape and his expression had calmed somewhat. He wondered why Snape never mentioned who was going to be the next Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher if he hated the man so much. He wasn't exactly one to keep his criticisms to himself. If Remus were to stroll in right now and announce that he'd be taking back his job Severus would probably be in a better mood.

The whizzing electric blue eye stopped with Gryffindor table in its sights and Harry looked away. 

He held back his grin of relief when Dumbledore announced the Triwizard Tournament and he found himself having no trouble at all exclaiming with disappointment that quidditch would be cancelled. Finally, at least one secret was off his shoulders.

"–age line's really unfair!" Ron exclaimed, waving a spoonful of mash in his excitement. Harry grinned as Hermione pulled stray potato out of her hair. The twins looked even more disappointed at the news than Ron.

"People have died in this competition. They can hardly let any student take part. What if it was a third year against a seventh year," Hermione disagreed.

"The goblet wouldn't pick a third year over a seventh year unless they actually were more capable and then it wouldn't matter who they were against from the other schools," Harry interjected.

"Of course it would. They would've had four years less magical education."

"Yeah, but what I'm saying is that it wouldn't matter because the goblet would pick the best man– or woman," he amended hastily, "for the job."

"Exactly! We've done loads of dangerous stuff; we could handle this tournament. And we'd get a thousand galleons," Ron said wistfully.

"Maybe when we're a bit older you can put your name in," Hermione replied, with a slight smile in Ron's direction.

"You would, wouldn't you, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry replied with a shrug. Ron was right, they could handle all that dangerous stuff. They'd probably done far worse than what they could cook up for this competition. He couldn't imagine swarms of dementors being allowed to chase the champions around the school grounds. Entering dangerous competitions was probably on Snape's list of banned activities, though.

"Harry loves a bit of danger. Future school champion you are," Dean said, leaning around Ron and whacking Harry hard on the back.

---

 

Tuesday afternoon came too quickly but Harry mentally prepared himself for his first potions lesson as best he could. He knew Snape was going to be horrible to him and he could handle it. He wasn't going to get angry and he wasn't going to lose house points either. It wasn't real so it didn't matter what Snape said. 

In fact, he was far more preoccupied about what Malfoy would say. It would be the first time since the train that he'd been in the same room as him and he would be foolish if he thought that Malfoy was bluffing about spreading rumours about him. He hadn't heard anything yet but it had only been a couple of days, no time at all.

He shook his head. He wasn't going to sit in potions worried that Malfoy was going to start badmouthing him and the smarmy little git could go to hell if he tried to tamper with his potions again this year. He wouldn't stand for that. He wasn't weak and he wasn't going to let Malfoy get one over on him, no matter what he'd promised Snape.

Thankfully, they didn't arrive too early. Harry had dawdled, not wanting to give Malfoy an opportunity to start before class had even begun. That should appease Snape; that probably counted as avoiding a fight at least. Part of him hoped that Snape's presence might deter Malfoy from saying anything during class but that was probably wishful thinking... Remembering what Snape used to be like, he'd more than likely join in.

He slid into his favourite seat in the potions classroom, hidden right in the back corner where Snape would have to go out of his way to get at him, which he did or had done on many occasions.

"Homework," Snape demanded from the front of the classroom, his voice impatient and laced with disdain. There was an immediate shuffling and scrabbling in bags as everyone pulled out their essays at once. Harry smoothed his out, safe in the knowledge that Snape had already seen his (at least three drafts of it!). Snape nodded approvingly at the scrolls handed in by the Slytherins, going as far as a 'well done, Mr Malfoy' that had Harry scowling and Malfoy preening.

Snape stopped dead in front of Harry's desk and he held his breath, preparing himself for a barrage of insults, but today it seemed that Snape's ire wasn't going to be directed at him.

"Is your eyesight failing you, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked coldly and the Slytherins turned in their seats to get a better view.

"No, sir," Ron said.

"Then you have suffered some sort of injury to your hands?"

"No, sir."

"Then I believe that you must have given in someone else's homework. The author of this mess is severely lacking any mental capacity if they believe that making their writing an illegible two inch scrawl is any replacement for a reasonably well written essay. Would you agree?" he asked as if anyone would dare not to.

"Uhh."

Snape appeared to read the parchment for a moment before announcing darkly. "It doesn't appear to say Longbottom at the top and I doubt there is anyone else in this room that can match his level of ignorance. So whose work this is, Mr Weasley?" This was met by sniggers from the Slytherin side of the room and Neville blushed furiously, looking terrified. Harry felt his blood boil. It was one thing yelling at Neville when he blew up his cauldron but this wasn't on. It wasn't even his essay.

"It's mine. Sir," Ron muttered.

"So we can all hear you, Weasley."

"It's mine, sir."

"The assignment was two feet. Surely even you should be able to gather up what few brain cells you possess to write an essay you were given two months to complete! Ten points from Gryffindor for appalling homework."

Harry gritted his teeth, aware that he was furious and Snape hadn't even said a word to him yet. Snape moved on to sneer down at him, before implying that Harry must have copied his from Hermione because he'd noticed that he'd used three syllable words, a feat which Snape assured him he was incapable of given his level of intellect. Harry stared mutely ahead, replying shortly when it seemed necessary.

Ron muttered next to him about evil gits and shoved his essay roughly back into his school bag. "You all right, mate?" he whispered and Harry blinked quickly.

"Yeah, just annoyed. Sorry about your essay."

"S'all right, I think even Hermione might take pity on me after that."

"What was the last instruction I gave, Potter?" Snape asked, interrupting his conversation with Ron. Harry scanned the room desperately looking for inspiration and Neville tapped lightly on the book open in front of him.

"To, uh, open the textbook," Harry replied.

"Five points from Gryffindor for failing to listen to instructions." Harry almost tutted. If he was going to take points anyway, why ask?

It seemed that things were beginning to look up once the actual brewing began. Harry was free to speak to Ron and Hermione and they were far away enough that Snape wasn't able to have them in his attentions at all times.

Suddenly, laughter rang out from across the room where Malfoy was holding court. Loud enough so that over the quieter chatter and simmering of cauldrons his voice rang out clear and sharp. "Writing a halfway decent essay is probably a cry for help coming from Potter. He's so beaten down by those muggles he's trying to impress Professor Snape."

Harry stood up so fast he knocked the cauldron, causing it to wobble precariously, saved only by Ron's quick reflexes but not before half of their potion spilt over the floor.

"POTTER! Sit down."

Harry sent Malfoy a furious glare and balled the hand that had gone for his wand into a fist by side, thumping heavily back into his seat.

"Get back to work, now," Severus ordered the room at large, glancing around angrily at all the students who were watching both Harry and Malfoy in turn.

S.S.

"You're dismissed," Severus announced finally and Harry began stuffing his quill and parchment back into his bag with ferocious speed. "Not you, Potter."

Harry's face was still set in the angry sulk that he'd settled into throughout the entirety of the lesson, even as the door shut behind the last Gryffindor. "You have a mess to clear up," he said, indicating the stain on the floor before going to sit behind his desk.

Harry looked even angrier at this pronouncement but went to fetch a cloth and cleaned up the spilt potion regardless. "May I go now, Professor?" he asked stiffly, staring ahead and refusing to meet Severus' eyes.

"No. I want a word, Harry."

"No. Can I go, Professor?"

No? Did he just say no? Severus' eyebrows rose in surprise. There was quite a difference from the cheerful boy he'd taken to King's Cross barely two days ago. How easy it was to slip back into the old roles…

"Stop sulking. This is utterly ridiculous. I warned you that nothing would change."

"I know you have to be horrible to me! You were horrible to Neville and you were horrible to Ron and Hermione's essay was better than all the Slytherins' and you didn't say anything."

"You've only just realised that I'm not fair? How many times do I have to say it? I will treat this class in the same manner as I have always treated this class."

"What have you got against Neville anyway? He's no worse than Crabbe and Goyle and at least he writes decent essays. I could see theirs from where I was sitting and they looked like they'd been written in chalk."

"My dislike of Longbottom is irrelevant. Regardless of how you feel about my behaviour it cannot change. How I treat students in my classes is not up for discussion."

"But you don't want to be nicer to Neville or the other Gryffindors. You wouldn't stop even if you could. You're horrible to him and he's only so rubbish at potions because you're intimidating and you put him down all the time."

"This conversation is pointless and I will not sit here while you work yourself up over every last point Gryffindor has ever lost in my classroom. I have no desire to sort out another of your adolescent tantrums."

"You said you wanted to talk."

He did indeed. He got to the point rather than give Harry another opportunity to work himself up further. "I'm aware that Draco is goading you. Control yourself. You will do yourself no favours by losing your temper with him."

"So he says what he wants and I have to sit back and take it?" Harry replied, his face mirroring the disgust he must have felt at the idea.

"That is not at all what I'm saying. I am warning you not to lose your temper with him, to be careful what you react to in anger. How much do you want him to know about your home life? About what upsets you? When you lose control you show more than you realise. I'm not forbidding you from defending yourself."

"Can I go now?" Harry asked yet again and Severus acquiesced with a nod.

"Behave yourself," he called out as Harry wasted no time in scooping up his bag and heading for the door.

H.P.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked as Harry jogged up the dungeon corridor to catch up with her and Ron.

"Yeah."

"Snape's a right git. I'd only written the conclusion a bit bigger because I didn't have anything else to write. It wasn't that bad!" Ron exclaimed.

"Why don't we nip out for a bit of a walk before dinner?" Hermione suggested and Harry nodded his agreement. He could definitely do with a bit of air.

S.S.

It was hard to tell whether Harry was still sulking a week later or whether this was how he intended to act to show that he hated his evil potions professor. Severus was certain that it was the former and was reasonably content. After all, the boy could certainly use a bit of distance to gain perspective. Severus wasn't who he needed to become attached to. It was unhealthy for a child to want parental affection from a man who had no ability to give any such thing. He could continue in his sulk, write about his frustrations to the wolf and the mangy dog and he'd have the support he needed.

The dog was forever doling out hugs to the boy whenever he laid eyes on him and Lupin fancied himself as more skilled with Harry than your average busybody.

Severus would continue to mentor and provide for the child and Harry could spend more time with Lupin and Black over Christmas. Then he would be provided with the care that Lily would never have wished be denied to him.

"What do you want?" Severus demanded roughly, almost colliding into Moody as he exited his own office, still very much lost in thought.

"Just getting the lay of the land, Snape. Dumbledore asked me to have a look around, keep an eye on things, the dungeons is particular."

"He did no such thing," Severus hissed.

"You sure about that? You've betrayed one master, why would he expect you to be faithful to him?"

"It's none of your concern. Stay away from my office, Moody."

"Your old chum is coming and I'll be keeping a close eye on the both of you," Moody snarled, turning to stump back up the corridor. Severus could feel his magical eye still fixed on him even as Moody walked away.

---

 

Severus threw down his quill irritably and stared down at his forearm. It was the third time he'd caught himself glaring down at the mark since his latest exchange with Moody. Why the headmaster had to employ Mad-Eye Moody of all people… Had Severus not done enough to prove he could protect Harry? He'd saved his life more than once on these school grounds.

He sighed wearily, pulling his sleeve back down to cover the mark. It wasn't that it felt different. Perhaps it was just the light but it looked a touch darker.

It didn't bode well, but whether or not he was imagining things the mark would come back. Yet another reason he should not allow the child to become too attached to him.

H.P.

Snape hadn't called him back after class since the previous week and Harry wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. How could Snape be such a hypocrite to treat the students the way he does when he knows what it's like to be bullied? But then, Snape was horrible, he knew that.

It was if over the course of the summer he'd imagined that Snape hadn't just realised that he didn't mind Harry but had somehow become a nicer person. But he hadn't, he just sort of tolerated him now and carried on hating everyone else exactly the same!

Yet… He wanted to talk to Snape anyway. He knew he was right about not being able to change how he acted in class and after more than a week of seeing Snape as his hated potions teacher he just wanted to see him as his guardian again.

He hung back at the end of potions the next day, deliberately dawdling as he cleaned up his potions area. Snape seemed in a relatively good mood, though Harry was beginning to realise that Snape was pretty much in a continuous bad mood when he was teaching, the kind of bad mood he'd be in if Harry had mouthed off at him earlier in the day or wouldn't answer his questions. Ron sent Harry a quizzical look and Harry glanced quickly at Snape who merely asked curtly whether the pair of them had a lesson to get to.

Harry scowled and picked up his bag. He couldn't have made it any more obvious that he wanted to talk to him. It's not like the man couldn't take a hint.

"What was that?" Ron asked as they headed out of the dungeons for the trek to divination.

"Wanted to give Malfoy a head start," he lied, thinking quickly. "Don't want to lose Gryffindor any more points by punching the smarmy little–" Harry searched for a word that wouldn't get him told off as Flitwick bustled quickly past. "Twit."

Not that avoiding Malfoy would solve the problem completely. Whatever Harry did there seemed to be a Slytherin nearby with something to say. "Better be a good boy, Potter, wouldn't want the muggles teaching you a lesson would we?"

It was humiliating. It was worse than when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin. At least he was just dealing with people hating him for something he hadn't done. Now though, people were mocking him for something that was true and interspersed with the Slytherins' gleeful faces was some pitying Hufflepuff or compassionate Gryffindor. He didn't need that and he certainly didn't want it.

Sirius had been consoling in his replies to Harry's letters. He told him constantly to keep out of trouble and not to let it all get him down. It wasn't actually much help but he supposed there wasn't actually anything Sirius could do and it was nice that he cared. Harry had written to Remus as well but he supposed he'd been too busy to send a reply yet.

Things deteriorated during divination, which he'd naively thought would be safe as a Slytherin-free zone. Somehow over the last week the rumours must have been able to reach Trelawney because she predicting his tragic demise and dressing it up as the final chapter to what sounded like the most thoroughly depressing life ever led. Aside from people commenting on it, his life was fine thank you very much!

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it shows me getting squished, why else would I be that shape?" Harry asked loudly, peering down into his cup of tea leaves. "What do you think, Ron?"

"I don't think that's you, mate. It looks like my aquatic accident from last week. I don't think these have been washed," he declared, putting the cup down as far away as possible.

---

 

Harry threw on his invisibility cloak. It wasn't actually past curfew but Snape had said to be discreet and there would be no reason for him to be hanging out in the dungeons of an evening.

He dodged and weaved his way through students gathered on the stairs and in the narrow corridors until he reached Snape's study where the tiny dot on the Marauders' Map said he was. It was actually a relief to be able to walk around the school without some Slytherin cackling at him like his childhood was the funniest joke they'd ever heard and Harry waited a moment before knocking on Snape's door, revelling in being hidden and unreachable in Slytherin territory.

He knocked on the door nervously, then immediately felt foolish. He wasn't scared of Snape, not the version he'd come to talk to anyway. Professor Snape bordered on terrifying. There were many times when he'd knocked at this door feeling a mixture of dread at the prospect of an evening with Snape and what he'd have in store for detention and hatred for the man in question. Now, to be seeking him out himself, slightly miffed that he hadn't gotten to speak to him sooner, was an odd feeling.

He pushed the door open after a brief call to enter and saw Snape sitting at his desk looking mildly surprised to see him there.

"Hi, sir." Snape waved his wand and the door snapped shut behind him.

"Are you unwell?"

"No."

"You're not experiencing any pain in your scar?"

"No, I'm not here because of my scar."

Snape indicated that he could sit on the other side of the desk and Harry felt a bit awkward, as if he was in trouble.

"Do you intend to enlighten me as to why you're here?" Snape asked, putting his quill and a fairly substantial stack of parchment to the side and Harry realised that he'd disturbed him in the middle of marking.

"I just wanted to talk about stuff. Should I come back later?"

"Don't be ridiculous. if you need to speak to me now, then speak."

"It's not urgent–"

Harry cut himself off at the look Snape gave him that quite plainly said 'then what are you doing here?'

"Can't I just come back when you're not working?"

"I wouldn't be in my office if I wasn't working, Harry," Snape replied impatiently.

"Can't I come to your quarters then?"

"That is certainly not a good idea."

Harry didn't know what to say to that but figured a reply was expected and manage to dredge up an 'Oh'.

Snape took a great breath as if Harry was a chore that he'd like to deal with as quickly as possible. "I'm aware that you are having a difficult time with the rumours that Draco has been spreading. If you would like to discuss your relatives my door is always open. If you feel more comfortable discussing things with your godfather and Lupin then the choice is yours. It need not be me who you talk to."

"I'd rather it was you," Harry replied, feeling like an idiot. Yep, he'd rather talk to Snape, who'd rather not talk to him. "Did you ask Dumbledore about carrying on with Occlumency?"

"He agrees that there is no need to press on with Occlumency."

"Did you tell him that I wanted to?" Harry asked.

"What you want doesn't come into it. It is not necessary and it is not happening," Snape snapped.

Harry didn't understand why Snape was being so odd but he could take a hint. Snape didn't want him there so he'd leave. There was no point forcing his presence where he wasn't wanted. "All right then. I'll just go; I've got homework," Harry said lamely.

"You're writing to your godfather and Lupin?"

"Yes."

The only thing was that Lupin wasn't replying to him and he couldn't tell Sirius everything, could he? Dear Sirius, Snape's trying to fob me off onto you and Remus, please help… Probably wouldn't go down well.

Maybe Snape was just busy. He'd come back another day to talk to him. Maybe Snape was annoyed that he hadn't started talking about the Dursleys yet… He could try to ask Remus but then he should probably wait for him to reply to his first letter before hounding him with any more.

S.S.

That had been a painful conversation. But what was best for Harry, in the majority of instances, was not necessarily what he wanted. Surely that was a part of being a good guardian, making difficult decisions.

H.P.

Harry looked up with a mixture of surprise and delight as a plain brown owl hovered above his plate and dropped a roll of parchment on top of his bacon. He opened the letter hurriedly, ripping the top of the parchment in his excitement and scanned its contents, certain it was the reply from Remus that he'd been waiting for.

Dear Harry,

I was disappointed to hear that you're having a hard time at school this term. I'm sure by the time you're reading this the situation will have resolved itself. If not I'm sure you know that Padfoot, among other adults, would be all too happy to give you advice.

I am well, thank you for asking, but very busy with work. I hope you remain in good health as I'm assured you have been since term started. Work hard and enjoy the tournament. Try not to be too disappointed that quidditch is cancelled, there's always next year.

R. Lupin.

Harry blinked down at the parchment for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. He waited two weeks for this? It took Remus two weeks to write this? Harry wasn't completely dim. Reading between the lines Remus had essentially said the same thing as Snape had said the other day. 'Padfoot and other adults…' So more or less he'd just written two paragraphs of 'I'm actually really busy so could you talk to Sirius and Snape about this.'

Maybe Remus couldn't have helped anyway and if he couldn't help with his problem with Malfoy he wasn't going to help him with Snape. It wasn't that Snape seemed angry with him. He seemed as tolerant as he ever was at home, when he wasn't angry. He was insistent that Harry could speak to him if he wished, but only if it was really important.

Every time Harry tried to see him he brushed him off or told him to leave and go to his next class. He couldn't figure out why Snape was acting so oddly. He hadn't thought he'd done something to make Snape mad but maybe he was wrong. Then again, Snape wasn't the kind of man who left you guessing when you'd gotten on the wrong side of him.

"What's up?" Ron asked, waving at Harry with a forkful of egg.

"Nothing."

"My mistake," Ron replied going back to his breakfast, looking as if he didn't believe it for a second. "Wait, was it me? You're not mad at me, are you?"

Harry laughed, finally. "No, I'm not mad at you. Just got a letter that's all."

"So you, er, don't want to talk about it then?"

"No, not right now," Harry said, not really having any intention of discussing it at all. Of course, he couldn't anyway because Snape had insisted everything be a big secret. It's not as if he could even talk to Remus and Sirius about all this! Sirius hated Snape and Remus clearly wasn't interested in writing.

"Oh, is it, you know," Ron said, attempting to give him a knowing, conspiratorial look. Harry almost burst out laughing. Maybe telling Ron to refer to Sirius as Padfoot would be better than having him pull that face over breakfast.

"Ron, he said he'll talk to us about it later. In private," Hermione said, obviously caught between amusement and worry at Ron's lack of subtlety.

"It's not even interesting," Harry replied, stuffing the letter carelessly into his bag, not caring that it was getting torn and screwed up.

"What's that you got there, Potter? Letter from the big, scary muggles? Are you going to go crying to Dumbledore?" Malfoy called from the Slytherin table.

"It was delivered by an owl, Malfoy. How thick can you get?" Harry yelled back.

"You'd think it would have gotten old by now," Hermione said. "It will soon though, Harry."

"Come on then, lets go to Care of Magical Creatures and see if we can catch Hagrid before the lesson starts," Harry suggested, pretending to be unaffected by Malfoy's taunting. If it wasn't so humiliating he would just think it was pathetic how much time Malfoy spent harassing him.

---

"Yer early today. Lookin' forward to the lesson, eh?" Hagrid greeted them jovially as they made their way over to his hut.

"Oh, yes," Hermione replied. "We'll wait for everyone else to arrive though," she added quickly. Harry and Ron exchanged smirks.

"I 'spect yer all excited fer this evenin'."

"Yeah, what is it Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?" Ron asked, stressing the 'bow' and making Hermione wince slightly.

"When are they arriving again?" Harry asked.

As far as he was concerned the sooner, the better. No one's going to be interested in weeks old rumours about his relatives with the tournament starting and guests in the castle. The common room was already buzzing with talk of who knows who from what other school and how the delegations from each school would be arriving. The girls seemed particularly interested in meeting the boys from Beauxbatons. Harry couldn't think why. They had perfectly good boys at Hogwarts; what's so special about French wizards?

"We're all supposed to be out at seven to welcome them. Professor McGonagall put a notice up in the common room yesterday."

Soon enough the other students began to make their way over for the lesson and Harry tried to focus on the task in hand rather than the prospect of having yet another class with the Slytherins. It was beginning to seem as if he couldn't be rid of them.

"Please, Professor Dumbledore, don't make me go back to the muggles!"

Harry tried to drown out the Slytherins who were too busy sniggering and doing far too high-pitched impressions of him at the back of the group to pay any attention to the lesson.

"Ignore it. The more they see you're not bothered the quicker they'll get bored of it," Hermione murmured.

"Come off it. It's been weeks – we need to teach them a lesson!" Ron hissed back.

"They'll know it's us. We'll just lose a load of points for Gryffindor. I don't need anyone else fighting my battles," Harry insisted.

"No one thinks you can't. We're just sticking up for you," Ron replied under his breath, darting a quick look to see if Hagrid had noticed them talking.

"You got a problem, Longbottom?" Nott called out. Harry turned around and saw Neville uncharacteristically scowling in the direction of the Slytherins.

"Is everyone payin' attention?" Hagrid called out and Neville sidled forward, away from the Slytherins.

---

S.S.

Karkaroff's arrival at the school was just as he'd expected. Contrary to Moody's spurious insinuations he had not been eagerly awaiting the arrival of an old friend. No indeed. Karkaroff had bought his way out of trouble; his conversion nothing more than cowardice. The fact that Moody believed they were something alike was insulting at best. On the other hand, it was one other person who may have noticed the edge of darkness returning to their misguidedly tattooed flesh.

It was a distraction at best and one that he'd rather not suffer. The matter had been dismissed by the headmaster as unimportant. If it was too pale to be certain then it was at worst a situation to be expected as the Dark Lord would of course be returning. But do keep him informed, much as with Harry's scar…

The lack of disturbance to Harry made him feel…unsettled. Harry had been affected on numerous occasions over the summer and Severus had rather expected the frequency to increase or at least continue. The fact that it hadn't had certainly been a blessing, not only because Harry had developed an unfortunate tendency to call for him or at the very least expect his presence. And truth be told, if Harry wanted comfort from him, he would find it very difficult to deny him.

Moody's magical eye flickered between himself and Karkaroff with surprising regularity over the course of the feast and the disgusted expression on the man's face was enough to make Severus send a nod of greeting to Karkaroff before turning to meet the gaze of the vile magical orb resting in an equally despicable skull. The headmaster of Durmstrang seemed fairly at ease. How the man had earned that position was a mystery. His reputation as a Death Eater left him unsuitable for all respectable careers but his cowardice left him reviled by the Dark Lord's supporters. He would never have guessed that Igor Karkaroff would make so much of himself after he fled his trial.

Severus cast an eye over the students tucking into a more than generous feast. The Durmstrang students had predictably made their way to the Slytherin table. Draco was rather starstruck by the seeker; he'd been looking forward to Krum's arrival all through the summer. Harry had attended the game that the boy had played in too. His gaze sought out Harry at the Gryffindor table, curious to see how he was taking the influx of new students, especially a famous quidditch player. No real reaction, the Gryffindor table was as exuberant as ever, the boys tending to notice the Beauxbatons students as opposed to those of Durmstrang.

He could of course have simply asked Harry on one of the numerous times the frustrating child tried to get his attention, but that would have been counter-productive.

---

H.P.

"C'mon Harry, I've asked Fred and George, they'll help," Ron cajoled in the common room that evening. The feast had gone on for ages after the delegations had arrived and Harry was beginning to nod off in his seat.

"Oh, we'd be more than happy to." The pair in question plopped themselves onto the couch opposite Harry's armchair.

Sirius' replies to his letter tended towards the idea of getting Malfoy back, and at first it had irritated Harry because it reminded him of their row over the summer, but now… Well, everyone else was suggesting it, Ron all the more because he knew that Sirius would approve.

"We should do something but we can't go around attacking other students," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"It's not attacking, it's just…distributing a bit of justice," Dean piped up and Seamus nodded beside him. Harry really appreciated the demonstration of solidarity even if he did wish it wasn't necessary.

"It's only fair, Hermione," Ron said, turning from Harry to her.

"Maybe you should tell a teacher," she replied and Harry was hard pressed not to roll his eyes. She hadn't been at all impressed with Sirius' reply. She seemed to think it was immature.

"I'm not telling on Malfoy. How pathetic would that be?" Harry scowled, deciding Ron's advice was far better than her own.

"It's not pathetic, Harry. It's not pathetic at all," she said shaking her head.

"I'm not going to tell a teacher. I can sort it out myself. We've sorted out far worse for ourselves than a bit of teasing."

"It's not just a bit of teasing." Harry sent her a mild glare to back off. He didn't need her making him seem even more weak.

"If we're all agreed–" one of the twins began,

"Then we can plan," finished the other.

Dear Padfoot,

Thanks for your quick reply. I really appreciate you writing so often. I haven't sorted out my problem yet but I think I'll be taking your advice after all. I'll let you know how it goes. It's going to be a bit of a team effort so keep your fingers crossed for us.

The students from the other schools arrived tonight. That Karkaroff seems a bit dodgy, he's the headmaster at Durmstrang. Do you know anything about him? Ron reckons that school's bad news. We're all hoping this year's champion's going to be a Gryffindor but better anyone than a Slytherin, I don't think I'd be able to cheer for Hogwarts if it was.

Hoping this finds you well,

Harry

S.S.

Draco Malfoy stood unabashed in his office, perfectly at ease with his head of house. Mere months ago he would not have said a word to stop Draco in his quest to break the Boy-Who-Lived but now he was beginning to tire of the rivalry between the pair of them.

It wasn't only Harry that was jealous of Draco. He was surprised he hadn't seen it earlier. He'd assumed that Draco had been indoctrinated into Lucius' beliefs and was acting on them, but Draco's actions could not be more obviously motivated by jealousy. Not only that, but he'd thought he would be able to turn the situation to his advantage, allowing Harry to take advice and support from one of the dogs as opposed to himself, but that tactic clearly wasn't working.

Severus set his face into an irritated scowl. "Do not force me to act against my students. Slytherins should not be so indiscreet as to draw attention to themselves in front of members of staff at this school when baiting Potter."

"It's not just me," Draco whined. "I know not to draw attention to myself in front of the other teachers."

"Then why, Draco, am I hearing tales about you taunting Potter?" Severus sneered down at him. "I hear enough about the Boy-Who-Lived at this school without having to deduct points because my Slytherins have no cunning."

That suitably chastened young Draco. If nothing else the boy had Slytherin pride. There was no need to tell him that no teacher at this school had approached him to discuss Harry this term. Not even the child's own Head of House had anything to say on the matter.

No sooner had Draco departed when Harry appeared suddenly using that infernal cloak. Clearly he would have no peace this afternoon.

"Professor?"

"Are you going to hover in the doorway or come in, Potter?" he asked pointedly, waiting until Harry shut the door behind him and sat down before turning his full attention on him. He didn't look unwell or in pain but the child wouldn't complain.

"Problems with your scar?" Severus asked when Harry did not immediately speak.

"No, it's fine," Harry said shaking his head and raising a hand to rub it absent-mindedly. Severus resisted the urge to pull his hand away.

It was more of a challenge than he had considered conveying that he had every intention of being there for him while at the same time trying to distance himself. "Harry, if you actually need me then come down to my office but I am quite busy at the moment," he said when Harry still had not spoken.

"You just had Malfoy in here for ages," Harry replied indignantly, his unguarded expression reflecting honest hurt and confusion.

"I am a teacher at this school and I have a responsibility towards my students. It is not your concern who I speak to or for how long."

"What's he got to talk about that's so important you've got time to hear it? Has he run out of new ways to make fun of me? Is he fishing for more information to spread?" 

"Do not be so phenomenally arrogant as to think that every conversation that goes on in this school is about you," Severus said, keeping his voice even.

"Oh, hear we go, I'm so like my father, I'm the arrogant one, I love all this attention."

"I did not say you were like your father. Stop being hysterical."

"How come you don't have time to talk to me but you've got loads to spend chatting to Malfoy?" Harry said, his voice wavering slightly.

For the first time he feared his resolve might break and he looked down to shuffle his notes so he couldn't see Harry looking at him with wide eyes. He had no idea when he'd decided on this course of action how difficult it was to pull away from a child whose insecurities had him craving anything but detachment. This was what was best for Harry. He may not like it in the short term but he would be far happier and better looked after in the long term. He would not have it said that he neglected Harry's best interests.

"Do you want something in particular, Harry?" Severus repeated with disinterest yet again, aware exactly of what Harry wanted but was unable to articulate.

Harry looked mutinous for a moment. "Yeah, I want to know how come you like Malfoy so much when it seems to me he's even worse of a bully than my father ever was. What is it, one rule if it's being done to you but another for everyone else?"

Severus' upper lip curled automatically but he reined in the anger. "Go to Professor McGonagall, I'm surprised you haven't already. If you need something then you may seek me out but as you don't then I suggest you leave. Now."

"Right, so come talk to me if your scar hurts but otherwise sod off. Got it." The door shut behind Harry with a resounding slam.

Severus contemplated the door for a moment before picking up an empty vial and slamming it hard on the desk. He left the shattered fragments where they lay and left for his quarters for the evening.

H.P.

Harry didn't bother throwing back on his invisibility cloak as he stormed out of Snape's office. It wasn't like it was that uncommon for him to leave it in a towering temper anyway. He stopped in the middle of the entrance hall. Instinctively he'd been making his way back to Gryffindor but that would just invite a lot of questions he wasn't in the mood to deal with. Before Harry could decide whether to take a walk to Hagrid's, Malfoy's jeering voice broke into his thoughts.

"Please don't make me live with the muggles! Hey, Potter?" Malfoy called out obnoxiously and Harry ignored him, as well as the blood rushing to his face. "Hey, what is it muggles do to kids they don't like? Did they hit you, Potter? I'd want to punch you if I had to live with you."

"Furnunculus!" Harry roared, his temper snapping. To hell with Malfoy and to hell with Snape's rules.

Malfoy managed to dodge the spell just in time, twisting oddly to get out of the line of fire. A moment later, Harry fell flat on his face, his glasses crunching unpleasantly. "What's this?" Draco crowed from above him. "You're going to take us on all alone, are you?" Draco scanned the entrance hall and Harry realised that Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Nott had him at wand-point. From the smug look on Nott's face he guessed it must have been him who'd tripped him.

"He's not all alone," came a small voice beside Harry where Neville had appeared to stand.

He was once again a moment later as Crabbe knocked Neville clean off of his feet to uproarious laughter. Harry flung a hex of his own back in reply, too incensed to care that it was one against five. The Slytherins were finding it more hilarious by the minute. Malfoy was clutching his sides as he gasped. "No, no, let Longbottom try!"

Neville's shakily incanted curse was dodged easily and he dropped heavily to the ground, his arms and legs ramrod straight. Harry jumped to the side quickly to avoid a curse and landed straight in the path of a stinging hex headed his way.

"Had enough yet, Potter?"

"Finite incantatem," Harry gasped, ignoring Malfoy in favour of helping Neville up.

"What's it like knowing not even your own muggle relatives can stand the sight of you?"

"Densaugeo!" Harry yelled, incensed. The curse bounced off a hastily made shield spell from Nott.

"What kind of wizard can't even defend himself from a few muggles?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry flew at the Slytherin. Malfoy not having expected a physical attack had nowhere to move and got caught straight in the stomach.

"MR. POTTER! What do you think you're doing?" McGonagall's voice came from the staircase above them. Harry stumbled back and away from Malfoy. Neville was clutching at his shoulder beside Harry, just having gotten to his feet again. "Longbottom, Potter, wait for me in my office. Do not move Mr. Nott, I can see you! You boys and you Miss Parkinson will be taking a trip to your Head of House."

Absolutely fantastic, Harry's brain supplied sarcastically. Now whatever McGonagall does is going to pale in comparison to how mental Snape's going to go at him. Absolutely great. Harry whirled about where he stood, his robes billowing around him in a passable imitation of Snape and stomped heavily up the staircase, Neville following close behind.

"You all right?" Neville asked after a heavy silence.

"Yeah, 'course. You don't need to go to the hospital wing, do you?" Harry asked, halting mid-step to check Neville wasn't badly hurt.

"No, I'm fine."

Harry opened the door to McGonagall's office and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. He wondered how long it would take for her to bring the Slytherins down to Snape and explain what happened. He was going to be livid. If Snape hadn't been mad at him earlier then he definitely would be now.

"Thanks for helping me out there. You didn't have to," Harry said after a moment when Neville sat beside him.

"I wasn't actually much of a help, was I?" he replied, shrugging self deprecatingly.

"No, you were. Sorry I got you into trouble."

"It was worth it. He shouldn't be able to get away with what he's been saying about you." Harry remembered Neville sending the occasional glare towards the Slytherins over the past week or two. It had seemed odd; normally he didn't even stick up for himself.

"I don't need you feeling sorry for me. I'm fine."

"I don't feel sorry for you. I don't live with my parents either but I've got Gran and I always thought that you had your family, even if you didn't always like them."

Harry actually felt a bit bad as he realised he'd never given much thought to the fact that Neville was raised by his grandmother.

"Honestly, Neville, it's not a big deal."

"Okay. I just, I don't feel sorry for you but I know what it's like to not have parents so…"

"Thanks, yeah," Harry cut him off not quite knowing what he was agreeing to or with, but not wanting to go there.

"Did you really live with Snape this summer?" Neville blurted suddenly.

"Yeah, I did."

"That must have been awful. I think Gran's strict but Snape–" Neville let out a whistle through his teeth. "I really don't pity you, I just know how I'd feel if everyone knew about my parents." He sucked in a bit of a breath as if preparing himself for something unpleasant. "They're not dead. They're in St Mungo's. They were tortured and now they're… not the same–"

"You don't have to–" Harry started to say, feeling awful as Neville tried to tell him things that were obviously painful.

"I know. I just thought that if we were even and we both knew about each other's family, then if you wanted to talk to someone who knows a bit about not having parents then you might think it was all right to talk to me."

"Thanks Neville," Harry said, rather stunned but also feeling guilty. The urge to tell Neville the truth was much stronger than he'd ever felt with Ron and Hermione. He deserved a bit of honesty after telling Harry that. Not to mention that although Neville might be terrified of Snape, he might get it more than Ron and Hermione would.

"I write to Professor Lupin. I'm not all alone," he blurted out.

"I liked Professor Lupin. I wish he still taught defence," Neville said, seeming to understand that Harry wanted to move away from the personal.

"Moody's all right though. We're actually learning stuff, real defence."

"Yeah, he's just a bit, you know… He even looks like he intimidates Snape!"

"He doesn't intimidate Snape," Harry scoffed.

"That's Professor Snape, Mr. Potter. I should think you're in enough trouble without the disrespect," Professor McGonagall said sternly.

"Yes, Professor."

"I cannot tell you how surprised and disappointed I was by that display, gentlemen. I have been informed you threw the first curse, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied defiantly.

"I'll deal with you in a moment, Mr. Potter. What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Longbottom?"

"I was helping Harry."

"Helping another student is not achieved by fighting in the corridors. Loyalty between friends is admirable but not appropriate in this situation. That'll be twenty points each from Gryffindor. Do not complain, Mr. Potter." Harry snapped his mouth shut but scowled.

"Brawling and fighting in the corridors is disgraceful behaviour. Throwing yourself in the middle of a duel will not solve the situation, Mr. Longbottom. You may leave."

"Sorry, Professor," Neville mumbled, shutting the door behind him.

"Starting fights in the corridors against not one person but a group of Slytherins, what has gotten into you?"

"I didn't realise there were five of them."

"I'm given to understand you've been experiencing problems with Mr. Malfoy. Nonetheless cursing students in corridors is forbidden. If there is an issue with bullying you should come to me. As your Head of House I would have attempted to deal with any problems you were having." Harry unconsciously screwed his face up at that. She was telling him he should have gone to her to complain that Slytherins were making fun of him. Had she gone mental?

"I am not unaware of what is being said about you and the students in question have been taken to task about it. Bullying at this school is not tolerated, nor do we solve it by fighting."

"Fine, Professor."

"I understand that the subject of your family may well be upsetting."

"I'd rather not talk about my relatives, Professor," Harry said quickly.

"As you wish, Mr. Potter. You do understand why you could not have been placed in another home? It would be an impossible commitment to place upon someone to make up for the lack of wards."

Harry nodded, all the while thinking that it wasn't an impossible commitment to Snape.

"You will have detention tomorrow evening with me. You may leave."

---

"Heard about the big fight. Why did you do it without me?" Ron asked the moment he climbed through the portrait hole.

"I didn't plan it. I was all for ambushing the slytherins and pranking them. At least that way we might not have lost points."

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, looking at him as if he was concealing injuries.

"I'm fine. They could hardly have tried to murder us with an audience."

"That's not funny. Has McGonagall said she'll sort everything out now?"

"I guess so. Can we just give it a rest now, I don't want to talk about Snape or Malfoy."

"What's Snape got to do with it?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I– well– forget it," Harry said panicking.

"No, go on! We know there's something you're not telling us, so just spill it. Hermione'll promise not to go on about it like she did with Malfoy."

"I'll promise not to try to help him you mean?"

"Don't argue," Harry said wearily. They'd been doing a lot of that recently. "All right then," he began as he had a sudden brainwave, "I'm not sure, but I think Snape said something to the Malfoys about the Dursleys."

"Really?" Hermione asked, frowning in disbelief.

"No, it makes sense!" Ron agreed, "Snape's always had it in for Harry. Why wouldn't he say anything? I bet he's cosy with all of that lot and Malfoy's always sucking up to him in class."

"I just... Maybe you're right but doesn't Lucius Malfoy work at the ministry? He'd have heard about it all there, wouldn't he?"

"Dumbledore didn't tell the ministry anything, just that I had to stay at the castle for a while."

"Well it's not exactly a secret that you and the Dursleys don't get on," Hermione continued.

"So it's my fault that Malfoy's spreading rumours about me all over the school?"

"No! I just don't think it definitely was Professor Snape."

"Well, it was."

"I think Harry's right. It's bound to be Snape."

"Of course you do," Hermione replied angrily and stormed off across the room to disappear behind a stack of advanced reading.

---

Harry had a long weekend to wait for Snape's reaction, which suited him fine. He told himself that there wasn't much Snape could actually do to punish him save for saying he couldn't go to Hogsmeade ever and that would be overkill even for him. Besides he'd want to save that to stop Harry telling Ron and Hermione all about his summer. At least that was the way he hoped Snape would see it.

There was no getting away from it though, he was in trouble. Ron and Hermione could tell he was apprehensive as they queued outside the potions classroom but they assumed he was worried that Snape would be angry that he'd attacked students in his house and would try and take points from Gryffindor. In reality Harry was a bit worried that he would try and punish Harry by taking points, but it wasn't the worst he could do, not at all.

The tension was palpable the moment Snape stepped through the door. Silence fell even before he demanded it. Not a person dared complain as a surprise test appeared on their desks, and half of the questions were from topics they hadn't even covered yet. Not that Harry had opened a single potions text over the weekend. His stomach had been in knots and he'd already lost an evening in detention with McGonagall.

For the Gryffindors merely breathing too loudly put them at risk of losing points as Snape loomed over them, stalking up and down the aisles as they scribbled on their parchment. Harry stared down at the mess that was his first answer – he knew exactly how to torture students.

It was an agonising hour waiting for the inevitable. Not to mention that giving in an appalling test was only going to make things worse. He risked a glance at Hermione and his jaw dropped in horror as her quill skated rapidly over her parchment. One glance at Ron had him giving a silent sigh of relief; he looked as if he'd given it up as a bad job and was doodling in the margin.

At the end of the lesson, Snape made a show of looking through the tests before dismissing them and Harry knew exactly what was coming. "Disgraceful, Potter," he sneered. "A standard I would expect from a first year." He lifted his wand and set the corner of the parchment alight and dropped it as the flames curled up the parchment. The class watched him intently for a reaction, the Slytherins smirking behind Snape's back.

"Detention. Stay behind. Everyone else leave." 

Harry stayed in his seat as everyone else filed out, the Gryffindors sending him pitying looks.

"Not five minutes after you left my office, not five minutes and you were attacking students, duelling in the corridors. Are you suffering from memory lapses or did you simply forget my specific instructions not to fight with other students?"

"No."

"But you didn't want to fight with just one student, did you? No, famous Harry Potter is going to take on five," Snape roared.

"Don't call me that."

"Why hadn't you gone to Professor McGonagall if the situation was intolerable?" Severus said almost wearily, his hand going to his head as if to ward off a headache that Harry was causing.

"I went to you and you weren't interested," Harry retorted.

Snape seemed to go devoid of all emotion. "I could not do anything for you. Your Head of House could have."

"If you won't do anything about it, no one else will," Harry said with absolute certainty.

"You know very well why I could do nothing, you infuriating, stubborn child."

"I lost my temper, all right? You waited ages to mention going to McGonagall anyway," Harry said, confused at Snape's reaction. Why wasn't he demanding that Harry talk it all out with him or explaining to him why what he'd done was stupid. Snape loved lecturing about why he was an idiot and he was always going on about wanting Harry to talk about his feelings.

"I am not the only person you communicate with and I highly doubt Lupin at least would not have suggested the same. Furthermore," he continued, to prevent Harry interrupting. "'I lost my temper' is no excuse for such idiocy."

"You said you'd help me with that."

"You are not continuing Occlumency! Do not bring that up again," Snape said losing the expressionless façade and glaring at him angrily. He'd forgotten how angry Snape got over his suggestion that they carried on doing that last time he brought it up.

"But I want to do it."

"It is not about what you want, Harry," Snape said firmly as if that was somehow a matter of great importance to him. "You deliberately started a fight, you deliberately disobeyed me," Snape started, angry once more.

"You can't punish me. I already had detention with McGonagall," Harry said, seeing where Snape was going and attempting to head him off.

"I'm punishing you as your guardian; Professor McGonagall punished you as a member of staff at this school and you got off lightly."

"Yeah, I should have been expelled, you'd have liked that," Harry said automatically, instinctively remembering every time Snape had tried to get him expelled or taken off the quidditch team for any little thing he'd done wrong.

"I have not gone to considerable effort to become your guardian in order for you to lose your place at this school," Snape replied coolly. "I doubt you are incognizant of the dangers of attacking groups of students or the fact that it is against the rules. Not to mention that you specifically disobeyed my instructions. I certainly will be punishing you, make no mistake." Snape looked down at him for a moment as if he was thinking hard. "You may bring me your practice snitch after tomorrow's lesson has finished."

"You're taking it back?" Harry asked, almost horrified.

"I'm confiscating it."

Harry hadn't, in fact, used it once since he'd gotten back to Hogwarts but the fact that Snape would take it back hurt him. So if he stepped out of line was he going to take all the clothes back too?

"I didn't do it to disobey you."

"I do not care why you did it. There is no excuse!"

Harry shook his head, staring at Snape. He'd not been imagining things before, Snape wasn't interested in talking to him, or hearing about how difficult it was for Harry to deal with Malfoy and the other Slytherins taunting him. He was only interested in Harry obeying him and telling him if his scar bloody hurt.

He must have done something to ruin this… Or maybe Snape was regretting that he took Harry on but he was stuck with him now and couldn't do anything about it.

"Sir, I–"

"You will miss the next Hogsmeade weekend."

"What?"

"I cannot trust you to follow my instructions, I cannot trust you to behave in the castle and now I certainly don't trust you to behave in Hogsmeade."

"Is Malfoy banned from Hogsmeade then? Is his dad going to take away his things?"

"Draco's father did not expressly forbid him from fighting in the corridors, Draco does not need to consider the threat of the Dark Lord and Draco has not spent the summer being defiant and disobedient."

"Yeah, well, Draco's got a dad doesn't he! And Lucius Malfoy bloody likes him! And no one's going around the school humiliating Draco."

Snape cursed under his breath and stared down at him with an odd expression. "Go to dinner," he said after a moment's silence. "Now, Harry."

---

"We can't do it now, they'll know it was us," Harry insisted.

"We've given it time and they won't be able to prove it."

"Snape doesn't need proof, you know what he's like," Harry said rubbing his head as he felt yet another headache come on. Hermione reckoned he was getting tension headaches from stress or something. "Look, it's not as bad as it was and I've already lost us forty points over this."

"You and Neville lost the points," Ron said as if it made a difference to the total he'd lost. "They won't trace it back to us; you're not the only one that git is horrible to! Come on."

"Harry said no and he's right. It's being sorted out now," said Hermione.

"Malfoy's hardly stopped, has he?"

"Can we stop arguing about this? I've already lost Gryffindor points, I'm not losing us any more." That and Harry actually wanted to see Hogsmeade this year and not from under his invisibility cloak.

"Fine."

"Harry's right, Ron. It would be quite obvious if Harry were to do anything," Fred piped up, leaning over to grab some gravy and flashing Harry a grin.

"I didn't mean–" Harry started.

"Mean what?" Fred replied innocently.

"Don't you worry," George insisted.

"We've got this under control."

---

"We've done it," George murmured the next day settling next to Ron and grabbing a bread roll from the centre of the table.

"Give it five minutes," Fred said with an excited grin.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing permanent."

"Completely harmless," the other twin agreed.

Harry tried not to stare at the Slytherin table in case he made it obvious that something was going on. The squawking got his attention instantly as the fourth-year Slytherins spontaneously transformed into large canaries. Obviously panicked, Malfoy had tried to jump out of his seat, but as hard as he flapped his wings he couldn't move. "Sticking charm," Fred and George whispered.

"Wow," Colin Creevey gasped from the other side of the table, climbing up on his seat and snapping photos frantically.

"How long will it last?" Harry asked with a chuckle as large yellow feathers went flying.

"Couple of minutes, no harm done."

The teachers stalking down from the head table and the headmaster calling for silence most likely disagreed. Snape tried 'finite incatetem' but to no avail, which had the twins looking extremely proud of themselves.

"SILENCE," Professor Dumbledore called in a magically enhanced voice just as the feathers began dropping from the Slytherins and they reappeared in their usual form, red faced and gasping. Harry could even have sworn that Malfoy had been a bit red around the eyes. The giggles stopped and almost as one the students dropped back into their seats.

Sirius would definitely want to hear about this. Maximum humiliation – the whole school saw it!

---

S.S.

Severus' eyes were drawn to the goblet as it lit up for the fourth time that evening. The headmaster stopped speaking and the room watched in rapt silence as the cup prepared to expel another name. A fourth name.

His face held no shock. It did not betray the twist in his chest or the dread that washed over him as he heard the headmaster read out Harry's name. If it were to be any child in this room it would be Harry, who was gaping like a grindylow out of water.

Severus' eyes swept the faces of the staff in attendance. Did any of them not look surprised? Then again, only a fool would not prepare themselves to look adequately shocked had they been the ones to plant Harry's name in that blasted cup.

Harry stumbled out of his seat, meeting his eyes briefly as he made his way up to the head table. Severus stood as the murmuring increased in strength in the hall and followed the Headmaster into the side room. When he found out who planted Harry's name, who dared to think they could threaten his– threaten Harry right under their noses, there wouldn't be enough of them left for St. Mungo's to put back together.

 

S.S.

It was all Severus could do not to demand answers the moment he strode into the chamber. He mentally ran through the issues at hand. Firstly, finding the culprit and dealing with them; it was clear to Severus that this was the Dark Lord's work, interference in a complex magical tradition, manipulation of a magical artefact, putting Harry's name in the cup. It couldn't be more transparent. Then they needed to find out how someone clearly affiliated with the Dark Lord managed to get into the castle.

To Severus' consternation the conversation wasn't quite going in that direction. The headteachers were content to squabble amongst themselves about whether Harry had entered himself and whether he was going to compete! As if a fourteen-year-old child was going to be participating under what was clearly a malicious entry.

Harry was following the conversation with stunned embarrassment, obviously quite uncomfortable being the centre of attention and indignant that no one seemed to believe he hadn't entered himself into the tournament. Not until Moody interrupted was a word said about the fact that it was quite obviously a threat, not a treat! It was the first time he'd been grateful to be in the same room as the ex-auror.

Severus found himself watching Karkaroff's outrage on behalf of the famous quidditch player he was constantly doting on. The man was no actor, nor had he any interest in aiding the Dark Lord's return. Igor Karkaroff was a name synonymous with coward and traitor with even those who managed to escape Azkaban by feigning bewitchment or ignorance. He would be killed on sight; the Dark Lord had no patience for traitors. Besides, the Dark Lord was reported to have been in Albania and that's one place where Severus was certain that Durmstrang was not located.

"Eet ees not fair, ze boy cannot compete, 'e 'as tricked ze goblet," complained Madame Maxime.

"His magical skill is mediocre at best even for his own age. He cannot have fooled that goblet or the age line himself," Severus snarled, throwing Harry a contemptuous glance for good measure.

Ludo Bagman's reaction was to chuckle jovially. "What's done is done now, I'm sure we can all agree…" What's done is done? His input into this situation is what's done is done? Severus cast a seething glance at the man in question. What does he have to be so cheerful about? He's not as simple as he appears, although with the amount of bludgers to the head he's taken that's quite some feat.

"Well, now that's all sorted," Bagman said, darting Severus an uncertain look before rounding on the children.

Sorted? Nothing was sorted! Despite the fact that the statement Bagman uttered was a complete lie, everyone else seemed taken in. It was a struggle to keep his jaw clamped shut and allow the conversation to play out. He had to trust that the headmaster would take care of this. He was waiting for the right moment to act, perhaps... It wouldn't be terribly subtle to hold a crisis meeting with a group of near strangers.

"A moment of your time, headmaster," Severus requested in as bored a voice as he could manage, attempting to convey that any situation including Potter was an utter waste of time and not nearly as important as whatever banal topic he was about to discuss. He barely spared a glance for Harry who was speaking to Diggory and seemed a bit disconcerted.

"Certainly, Severus."

Severus waited until every person in the room had filed out before rounding on the headmaster.

"You aren't seriously meaning for him to compete in the tournament?" he asked. There had to be some plan, some reason, that the headmaster had not spoken up earlier.

"It is a binding magical contract; our hands are tied. Harry has survived much worse."

"Harry didn't put his name in that goblet. He cannot be constrained by a contract that he didn't enter into," Severus growled, trying to rein in his anger and disappointment.

"It is not me or even the minister for magic himself that you need to convince. It is whether the contract understands that Harry did not enter himself," the headmaster said, speaking as if he was explaining the concept of magical contracts to a child. "Ancient magic can be rather simplistic at times."

"If someone can fool the enchantment into accepting a fourth school for a Triwizard Tournament then I see no reason why you, of all people, can't reverse it," Severus interrupted.

"I think you overestimate my abilities. I understand you have concerns but the contract was sealed upon the names being ejected from the goblet. There is nothing to be done."

"I will not accept that there is nothing you can do. Harry did not enter himself into any magical contract and I refuse to believe he will be subject to it. If someone can fool the contract then you can amend it," he persevered. "He is fourteen and the Dark Lord is trying to kill him."

"And a poor attempt it would be if that was the case. The tournament is at Hogwarts; he will be quite safe."

"Someone powerful enough to bewitch that goblet and a magical contract is trying to kill my–"

"He's not your son, Severus," the headmaster interrupted quietly, his blue eyes sharp and assessing, but a lack of his usual warmth indicated that he didn't appreciate what he was seeing.

"I know who he is!" he shot back through gritted teeth. "He's my ward, he's my responsibility, he is fourteen years old and he is not entering this competition."

"He has been entered and as much as I appreciate your concern for Harry it will be far less of a trial than those he has already faced."

"Trials he should never have faced. Forgive me, headmaster, but I am attempting to teach the boy not to rush into dangerous situations, exactly these kinds of situations."

"And what of the future? It is exactly these life experiences that will prepare him when he next faces Voldemort."

"When he next faces the Dark Lord he may not be ready, he may still be a child and I will not see him throw his life away in some foolish attempt at bravery and self sacrifice."

"Voldemort will come for Harry. You know the prophesy. It would be better if Harry was ready to face him than left untrained and unprepared."

"If Harry needs to be trained to face the Dark Lord then I will see to it that he is. He will not be fighting anyone, Dark Lord or anyone else, while he is at school."

"I fear we are straying from the matter at hand," the headmaster said dismissively and Severus felt his irritation rise.

"He is younger than the age that was agreed by all the schools and ministries, he did not enter himself into this competition and there is reason to believe that this could amount to a threat to his life."

"The fact remains that he is under the obligation of a binding magical contract and even I cannot alter such a powerful and ancient enchantment."

"Because you would rather not try," Severus accused. "Perhaps Minerva will be more inclined to agree with me when she is presented with the unbiased facts."

"I am disappointed that you do not trust me. You do not believe that I would allow Harry to come to harm?"

"He has fought the Dark Lord within these walls in some form or other twice. Black got into this castle when we were under the impression he wanted to kill Harry. I do not think it is worth the risk. I'm his guardian and I'm asking that you do what you can to get him out of this competition."

"It is astounding how much you have changed, Severus." It was impossible to tell whether the man meant that as a compliment or not. "I will do what I can to alter the enchantment, though it is extremely likely that I will fail." Severus was fully prepared to leave with that victory. Reluctant as he may be, the headmaster would not go back on his word.

Just as he reached the chamber door the headmaster spoke. "Your guardianship of Harry is a technicality, it is by no means legal or recognised by the ministry. I would rather you did not try to use it against me."

Severus felt himself go cold all over as that statement sunk in. "Am I to view that as a warning?"

"Not at all. It is merely a reminder of where you stand. You are not the only man with Harry's best interests at heart," the Headmaster replied, the kindness returning to his eyes.

H.P.

Harry made it back up to the tower almost in a daze. Hogwarts champion! Sure, he'd thought about being a champion but he never actually wanted the reality of it. Would everyone think he'd entered himself? There was only one way to find out; he could hardly stand in the corridor all night.

Harry was hit by a wave of noise as he climbed through the portrait hole, but managed to grin and nod through the crowd of well-wishing Gryffindors. "Go on Harry!" There was a chorus of 'So how'd you do it'? 

"I didn't put my name in. I don't know how–" Harry started to say until he spotted Hermione.

"Hermione! Where's Ron?"

"Um, I'm not sure," she said, uncertain. "I think he's up in your rooms."

"I'll go get him so we can talk. Colin, don't," Harry complained, quickly dodging the camera on his way up to the boy's dormitories.

"What are you doing up here?" Harry asked when he saw Ron sitting on his bed, fishing out his pyjamas.

"Going to bed, what does it look like?" Ron replied curtly.

"Everyone's downstairs. I was looking for you."

"I'm sorry I missed your big party then."

"Shut up," Harry returned, Ron's tone making him uneasy. "What's wrong with you? 'Mione's waiting downstairs so we can talk."

"If you're going to tell us how you did it then you're a bit late, aren't you? Would have been useful a few days ago."

"How I did what?" Harry replied.

"You knew I wanted to enter too. If you used your cloak it would have covered me too."

"Have you gone mental? My cloak wouldn't have gotten me over the age line."

"However you did it, then," Ron replied stubbornly. "You're not the only one who's done dangerous stuff."

"I didn't put my name in that goblet," Harry said for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. Of all people he never thought he'd have to tell Ron.

"Sure," Ron scoffed.

"You'd have to be an idiot to think I did!"

"Are you calling me an idiot?" Ron said, rounding angrily on Harry.

"If that's what you think then yeah, I am!" 

The door banged openly loudly as the rest of the boys clamoured to get in all at once, the festivity downstairs obviously tailing off.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked, sensing the tension in the room.

"Nothing, I'm going to bed," Ron growled, climbing into bed and shutting the curtains of his four-poster angrily.

"I'm going for a walk," Harry said, fishing in his trunk for his map and cloak. How could Ron think he'd put his name in and then think he'd keep it from him? He felt another headache coming on but he was getting used to them by now.

"It's after curfew," Neville said from his own bed but Harry ignored him.

S.S.

Severus warded the door to his quarters. The frame of mind he was in he would likely curse the next unfortunate person to cross him that evening. Despite the threat to Harry, the headmaster refused to act. He had done nothing to address the fact that someone with access to the castle was plotting to harm one of the students in his school.

Severus still seethed over the headmaster's parting words, although he was right in one respect, Severus had no real rights over Harry and his guardianship was a technicality. But contrary to the headmaster's denial, Severus knew a threat when he heard one.

Previous to this summer Severus had boundless respect for Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster had given him a second chance, had vouched for him, had kept his word not to tell a soul about his history with Lily… Now, he found his respect for the man being eroded away by his loyalty to Harry.

Severus had sworn to protect the boy on the Headmaster's request, but he'd done it for Lily. He was certain he knew what Lily would have wanted for her son and this was not it. She would not have sacrificed his childhood for the greater good. She protected her son with her life and he fully intended to do the same. Harry would not be thrown into danger on his watch. If Harry needed training for his own defence and protection then he would have it, but it would be on his terms. Technicality or not, Severus was his guardian, he would be raising the boy and he would protect him from the whims of Albus Dumbledore just as he would from those of the Dark Lord.

H.P.

Harry found himself glaring angrily at the entrance to Snape's quarters. The stupid thing wouldn't let him in any more! He'd found himself heading straight for the dungeons knowing that Snape wouldn't send him away now. This tournament was a massive deal and he did say Harry could talk to him. He couldn't ignore this.

He pulled the map out of his cloak pocket and checked that Snape was actually in. He wasn't about to stand in the middle of the dungeons all night if Snape was up in the staff room. There he was, right in his quarters, only a few centimetres from the little 'Harry' dot.

Harry knocked, lightly though, just in case Snape decided to moan about Harry being discreet. Snape didn't move, not even a millimetre. Harry stared hard at the map just to be sure. He knocked again, louder this time, and still... nothing.

Harry hammered on the entrance. It wasn't like there was anyone around anyway. Bloody Snape! Bloody Ron! Harry pounded on the entrance and finally, having enough, lost it and kicked the wall. He swore loudly as he hopped on one foot. Fine, that's it. That's enough. He wasn't going to do this any more. Snape wasn't going to help him with anything, not Malfoy, not this tournament, nothing. He could take a hint.

Harry stomped his way back up to Gryffindor tower in an even fouler mood than when he'd left so when he almost collided with Professor Moody he let out a sharp gasp. He stared up at Moody wide eyed and frozen, who stared back in equal shock. It looked almost comical with his perfectly round blue eye. Harry backed away slowly. Moody couldn't see him; he was under his cloak, it was fine. He could have just been a ghost or... anything.

"Watch where you're going Potter. And you can take that cloak off too," Moody growled after a moment.

"Yes, sir. You can see through it?"

"Not a lot gets past this, Potter," Moody replied grimly, indicating his magical eye. "You shouldn't be wandering these halls, nowhere is safe for you now... Someone's out to get you, Potter. Think on it." His words sent a shudder down his spine and suddenly the halls didn't feel quite so safe.

"Yes, sir." Harry agreed, hoping to escape fast enough to avoid detention.

Everyone was fast asleep when Harry got back to the dormitories but that didn't help him drop off at all. He slept fitfully, his headaches coming back full force. He'd finished off the little potion Hermione had gotten from Madam Pomfrey when Harry refused to go to the nurse himself but it didn't work properly. The ache in his head eased but the burning pain flared ever sharper when Harry started to feel himself drifting off.

Exhaustion, frustration and anger were too hard to fight off as he tossed and turned but he let out a shocked gasp as his scar gave an almighty throb. "Oh no," Harry mumbled to himself as his breathing settled. The burning was coming from his scar.

There were two things Harry was certain of that morning. Firstly, he and Ron were not talking and secondly, he wasn't going to Snape with his headaches. He'd write to Sirius. He'd eliminated the option of speaking to the headmaster. He'd been wary of him ever since he realised Dumbledore had wanted him to stay with the Dursleys. If even Snape thought that was wrong then he wasn't sure he wanted to take his problems to him.

---

"You two are being ridiculous. Will you just speak to each other?" Hermione said from between the two angry Gryffindors after a tense walk to breakfast, interrupting the stony silence that had fallen.

"I'll talk to Ron when he gets over himself and admits I didn't put my name in the goblet."

"You've been leaving us out for longer than this and everyone knows you put your name in the goblet seeing as your name came flying out of it!"

"Leaving you out of what?"

"We both know you're keeping something from us for ages and you went off to fight Malfoy without us."

"I didn't 'go to fight Malfoy' and if this is what you think being a friend is I'm glad Neville was helping me out there and not you," Harry replied venomously, though for all that he was surprised when instead of sitting beside Hermione, Ron stormed off to eat beside his brothers. "What does he mean 'you both know'?" Harry demanded, rounding on Hermione.

"Ron took what I said completely out of context. I'd just said that it seemed like there'd been something on your mind that you haven't been telling us. I've thought it for a long time and it's not like you. I was just worried."

"Don't be worried; I don't want to argue."

"Good, because I don't want to either," she replied matter-of-factly with a reassuring smile.

---

As supportive as the Gryffindors were, the same couldn't be said for the rest of the houses. Both the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were sporting 'Support Cedric Diggory' badges and even some of the Ravenclaws had them.

Malfoy was overjoyed when Harry appeared early enough to potions to be able to show him the witty remark he'd charmed them to change to at a moment's notice and 'Potter Stinks' was emblazoned on every Slytherin's chest in the room.

Hermione put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Just ignore it," she murmured, obviously worried he'd start on Malfoy just as Snape entered the room.

"Ignore it?" Harry replied, taking in the scene with wide eyes. "This is fantastic!"

"What?" She looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"Don't you see? No one's going to mention the Dursleys any more. It was already starting to get old. Everyone's going to be too busy hating me about this. They've made badges," Harry enthused as if 'Potter Stinks' badges were the solution he'd been looking for all along.

"Well, I suppose it is old news now, not that it was news in the first place…"

"Well, whether they meant to or not whoever put my name in that goblet at least did me a bit of a favour. Aside from entering me in a tournament in the hope that I'd die, of course."

"You won't die. Professor Dumbledore won't let anything happen to you. Don't say that."

"Maybe you should get Ron one of these…"

"Oh, Harry, just try to talk to him."

"I'm not talking to him. He's the one who thinks I put my name in the goblet."

"He doesn't really think that… You remember how excited he was when everyone thought he was nearly killed by Sirius Black in your dormitories..."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"It was his turn to have the limelight that day and it meant a lot to him. You're the famous one, his brothers are Fred and George and even the others were Head Boy or popular or…" Hermione drifted off as Snape walked in before hissing under her breath. "He's jealous, can't you tell?"

"Miss Granger have you finished talking or would you like another ten points for delaying the start of my class," Snape said from the front.

That was just unfair seeing as he was five minutes late himself.

"He's got nothing to be jealous of!" Harry hissed back, ignoring Snape.

"Detention, Potter.Has your new status as champion inflated your head so much that you cannot hear instructions?"

"You didn't give any instructions. You asked if we were done talking, and I wasn't done." Snape's expression turned murderous as he stalked towards Harry.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and it'll be another twenty for every syllable you utter out of turn. Thanks to Mr. Potter you will be working in exam conditions today. That means working alone and in complete silence. Instructions are on the board."

H.P.

"What was the meaning of that idiotic display?" Snape ground out, slamming the door shut with an abrupt wave of his wand.

"I need to go to dinner."

"You certainly need to have dinner, but you're not going anywhere."

"My friends will wonder where I am," Harry replied, picking up his bag and feeling a stab of sadness that his phrasing probably didn't include Ron.

"You can tell them you spent your evening explaining your abysmal behaviour to me," Snape snapped and Harry dropped his bag quickly as it flared suddenly with heat.

"Hey!" he complained as Snape summoned it and put it behind his desk. "Give me another detention or take more points then," Harry said, fully intending to leave with or without his bag.

"Do not presume to tell me what to do," he menaced before gesturing abruptly at the chair opposite his desk. "Sit. This is not a discussion I intend to put off."

Harry couldn't help but scoff at that. "I'm actually quite busy," he replied in what he thought was a fair imitation of the man in front of him. If Snape thought he was going to sit and be yelled at whenever he wanted to play the guardian card, he had another thing coming. If Snape had no time for him then Harry had no time for Snape either.

"Excuse me?" Snape replied as if he couldn't believe what he heard.

"You probably should have caught me yesterday if you wanted a chat seeing as I was standing outside your door for ages!"

"What?"

"I can't get into your quarters any more so I knocked and you left me out in the corridor. And I know you were in there," Harry said fighting to keep from sounding as hurt as he felt.

"I did not intend to keep you out," he began urgently.

"Ha!" Harry laughed bitterly. "You've been ignoring me for weeks. You only talk to me so you can have a go at me!"

"That is not the case."

"Yes it is!" Harry yelled, his voice growing even louder as he ranted. "Every time I try to speak to you, you fob me off! I can't talk to Sirius about you and Remus is too busy. You can sod off. I needed your help with Malfoy and I needed to talk to you yesterday about this stupid tournament. All you ever want to do is shout at me and I didn't have anyone put my name in the goblet if that's what this is about–"

"I know that you didn't. Calm down," Snape interrupted, a look of alarm crossing his features.

"Punish me then, go on!" Harry hurled back. "I don't need you to be my guardian if you're going to be like this. I'd rather go back to the Dursleys. At least they don't pretend that they like me and then change their minds. I've been pathetic, trying to figure out what I've done wrong and I thought–" Harry cut himself off, it was bad enough he acted like that; he didn't need to tell Snape about it. "You were the one who said I was welcome and you were the one who said I could talk to you if I needed to. You shouldn't have made me believe you meant all that if you didn't want me to talk to you." Harry said his voice catching.

Snape was staring at him aghast and apparently lost for words as silence fell between them.

When Snape finally spoke his own voice was rough. "You haven't done anything wrong. I have no excuse, I cannot–" He seemed to realise he was being incoherent and paused.

As though he'd suddenly come to a decision Snape's features turned grim and determined. "I apologise."

"What?" Harry said, suspecting it was some sort of sarcastic joke.

"I didn't expect for you to take my behaviour quite as badly as you have done."

"You just wanted me to be a bit angry?"

"I didn't want you to be angry. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I thought for some foolish reason that I was doing what was best for you and obviously I was wrong."

"Why would you think ignoring me was best for me? I already had people to live with who ignored me."

"I know you did," Snape interrupted curtly, though without any bite. "I assumed you would eventually be happier if you had a better rapport with your godfather and Lupin as opposed to myself. There are things I am not in the best position to– that I am not as able to give you as they are. I assumed that if I was less available you would fill in the gap with a better relationship with them."

"I only wanted you to carry on being like you were in the summer. I never wanted anything else," Harry said, still annoyed and now confused. Why would Snape not speaking to him make him any happier? It might make Snape happier but it didn't suit him at all. "You never liked me spending time with them anyway, why would you suddenly think they'd be better guardians than you?"

"I didn't want to give up your guardianship, not for a moment. You deserve more than what I was giving you," Snape replied seriously. He ran his hand tiredly through his hair. "But the way I was behaving was a mistake. You are my responsibility and those idiots are not capable of giving you anything that I am not."

"Giving me what?" Harry asked, still confused.

"Emotional support," Snape bit out, more than a bit uncomfortably.

Snape seemed to think he was explaining himself but Harry really didn't understand what he was on about. It didn't make any sense. Why would he need to be horrible to him to get him to speak to Sirius and Remus? He already writes to them. He was supposed to be manipulating Harry to like him and hate Sirius (according to Sirius at least), not the other way around. Harry really didn't know what was going on, he'd never seen Snape look so apologetic.

"I was sincere with my apology. I should not have been neglecting you, least of all when you needed my help."

S.S.

"Right. Well what did you want me to be here for then?" Harry asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Severus frowned. Harry was obviously still upset and honestly just looked lost. It didn't go unnoticed that Harry had not accepted his apology and he would not delude himself to the fact that possibly irreparably dented the trust they'd built between them, more so now than when he'd gone to visit the Malfoys.

He'd been foolish to think he knew what was best for Harry. This was exactly the kind of monumentally moronic mistake he knew he'd make when he took on the boy's guardianship. It was one mistake after another, each one worse than the last and each time he felt worse about what he'd done. Guilt wasn't a feeling that sat well with him.

To think that Harry felt as if he'd rather return to his relatives. What had he done?

"Sir?" Harry prompted, waiting for an answer.

"The headmaster is going to do what he can to remove you from this tournament. If there is a way to have you pulled out then it will be done."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought I had to compete. It's a binding contract or something."

"It is a contract that you did not enter yourself into, and it is a contract relating to three champions from three schools. The system has been tampered with already and I see no reason why Albus Dumbledore should be unable to fix this," Severus all but ranted, his anger at the headmaster's stubbornness returning.

"But I'm not definitely being pulled out?" Harry questioned awkwardly.

"The headmaster has doubts that he will be able to succeed. I will see to it that everything is done to stop you competing."

"What if Dumbledore can't get me out of it?"

"Then I will give you every advantage possible. I am not above cheating if that's what it takes. Whoever put your name in that goblet will be sorely disappointed if they think you're going to come to harm."

"I think people will suspect something if I actually start doing well."

"I do not care about you doing well; I care about you being prepared for these tasks and surviving with your limbs intact!" He took a breath before continuing. "It goes without saying that you need to take care in the castle. Don't wander the halls alone or at night."

"How am I supposed to talk to you, then?" Harry asked scowling.

"I will sort something out."

"Sure," Harry replied, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Harry," Severus reproached. "I will sort something out this evening." He fought back a sigh. "Whoever entered you into this tournament is likely to be a resident or a frequent visitor to the castle. Do not seek them out, that is my job. Keep your head down and if you notice anything…odd, then come to me."

"All right. Keep out of trouble, speak to you if I need to. Got it," Harry said grimly as if he set no store by the instruction. "I should probably tell you something though," Harry said with what could only be described as extreme reluctance. "I only realised this morning so don't fly off the handle. I've been getting these headaches, not like the ones when I was at yours. They're more like real headaches, that's why I didn't notice at first, but I can't get rid of them with a potion and it sort of feels like it's coming from my scar."

"How often do you get these headaches?"

"Not every day and usually when I'm worked up about something," Harry shrugged.

"You said potions don't work, so how do you get rid of them?"

"They tend to go by themselves after a while."

"And in the evenings? Have you ever been asleep with the pain or had odd dreams?"

"That's sort of why I noticed. I was a bit upset last night and I had a headache and I was falling asleep but it was getting worse and I could feel it more in my scar…"

"This was when you had come to see me?" Severus queried, suppressing a wave of guilt.

"Yeah and afterwards when I'd gone to bed."

"And now?"

"Now, what?"

"Do you have a headache now?"

"No, not right now."

Severus was silent a moment more. To think he almost missed this, that he had been missing this for who knows how long because he refused to communicate with him.

Severus put his guilt aside to focus on the matter at hand. His symptoms certainly were unusual considering his scar's behaviour over the summer. He'd appreciate another chance to administer potions to Harry to see the effects. At times they seemed effective and at others utterly useless.

"I would rather you slept in your room in my quarters this evening," Severus said after a moment's deliberation.

"Why?"

"There is a strong chance of you being affected once again this evening, particularly as you're not in the most positive frame of mind. I would rather consider how to deal with these episodes before leaving you to deal with them alone."

"People are going to notice I'm not in Gryffindor tower."

"I've no doubt the headmaster will inform your Head of House once I've spoken to him. Floo to my quarters. I'll follow you when I've spoken to the headmaster."

Harry sighed but did as he was told without a word.

How could he have not realised how much his actions would impact Harry? He'd deluded himself that he could not handle the responsibility of ensuring Harry's happiness and that by ridding himself of it he was doing Harry some sort of favour. This was no favour. Harry would not thank him in the future for hurting him unnecessarily now. That kind of logic was the headmaster's own brand of lunacy.

"If you expect results after only one day Severus then I will have to disappoint you," the headmaster said but welcomed him as usual with an offer of a seat and then regarded him steadily from behind his desk, no doubt expecting another rant.

Severus gritted his teeth, ready to try another tack. "This idea of yours that you can sacrifice Harry's happiness for the sake of this prophecy, this war, is not necessary to win. He is already brave and resourceful, and he already puts the safety of others before himself. What he needs now is training and for someone to make sure his courage doesn't become recklessness."

"Harry is an exceptional young man and very lucky to have you so invested in his protection but he will not best Voldemort through skill. No amount of training will give him the power to defeat him."

"He'll be able to defend himself at least, enough so that he doesn't lose his life in the next war." He chose to take it as a positive sign that the headmaster was giving the matter some thought and decided to quit while he was ahead.

"Harry won't be going to the tower tonight. He'll stay in his room in my quarters. He described some odd pains in his head, and he seems to think they originated in his scar but the symptoms weren't following the pattern established over the summer."

"No? Exactly what did Harry describe?"

Severus relayed everything he could remember. He kept his own opinions on the origins of Harry's pain to himself. He wanted to see what the headmaster made of them. His other qualities aside, you could not deny the man had a brilliant mind.

"It is certainly Voldemort, we can be sure of that."

"Why then are the effects so different? Harry wasn't initially able to distinguish the pain from an ordinary headache."

"A deliberate probe, perhaps. Harry's last attack was particularly violent."

"After I opened his mind to the Dark Lord." Another stupid mistake, his mind readily supplied.

"It was perhaps unfortunate timing that he was affected while he was vulnerable. I suspect Voldemort is aware of the link or at least sensed something during that last episode."

"You don't think he has access to Harry's mind?"

"Not if my hypothesis is correct. I suspect Tom is merely testing the link between them. He may or may not realise what it is. I doubt he is powerful enough without his body to do any tremendous damage or truly access Harry's mind."

"And if you're wrong? We cannot continue letting him try to break into Harry's mind."

"Of course not. I think you know what I'm going to suggest."

"Occlumency."

---

When he returned to his rooms he found Harry sitting on the couch looking rather morose. Severus wasn't normally disposed to be sympathetic to teenage misery even when he was the cause of it, but his own guilt was rather difficult to overcome and so he wracked his brains for some clue as to how to handle Harry.

Harry hadn't minded cooking with him over the summer. "I'm going to make dinner. You're welcome to help." Welcome. he'd said that an awful lot to the child but he obviously didn't feel welcome. Severus had made sure to contradict every positive thing he'd ever said to him.

Harry looked as if he was considering the offer hard before agreeing with a short nod and following Severus into the kitchen.

"What did Dumbledore say?" Harry asked as Severus summoned the ingredients and divided them between himself and Harry.

"You need to learn Occlumency sooner rather than later. That's going to mean regular stays away from the tower, which will cause some problems. You're to act as if you're seeing the headmaster and not myself but it will be me teaching you and you'll stay here overnight so I can keep an eye on you while you're vulnerable."

"So we should have just carried on Occlumency like I wanted to."

"In hindsight it would have been better. I would not have agreed to do it now if I didn't think there was sufficient danger to warrant it. It was akin to watching torture the amount of pain you were in."

"I was all right with carrying on."

"It's not your judgement that matters."

"No, what I want doesn't matter."

"Unless there's a damn good reason I will not do anything that can cause you to be in that much pain. It wasn't bearable, Harry. I don't have the faintest idea why you wanted to carry on."

"Because I didn't want this to happen! I wanted to spend time with you so you'd remember that we got on or that you didn't hate me."

"I don't need to be reminded that I don't hate you. I wasn't acting out of hatred or dislike. I thought I was doing what was best for you."

"Well, I don't understand, all right?" Harry burst out.

"Of course you don't. it doesn't make any sense. It was an error of judgement, Harry. The way I saw it, I took on the responsibility of providing for you and anything I couldn't provide for you myself I was determined you would get nonetheless. I didn't realise that what I was doing was counterintuitive."

"Sometimes I think you don't want me to get what you're saying."

"I was trying to make sure that the rest of your childhood was spent happily, but I didn't realise I was doing the opposite."

H.P.

Snape wasn't being any less confusing but he had apologised and quite frankly he wasn't sure what else he wanted Snape to say but he knew he wasn't okay yet.

"What am I doing then?"

"You don't have to help if you'd rather not," Snape replied and Harry realised he had spoken with a bit more hostility than was warranted for helping cook dinner.

"I do want to," he insisted. Snape regarded him carefully but then nodded.

"The vegetables then. Wand out; the spell's tagliarum. Aim for the vegetable, obviously. It's a sharp downwards motion, as if you were using a knife."

"I ruined it," Harry said after a moment, staring at a pile of destroyed carrot.

"I'm going to cook it; it doesn't matter what it looks like. Try not to get it on the floor."

It was actually quite therapeutic mangling vegetables. Maybe that's why Snape wanted him to do it. He probably thought he was going to start yelling again any second.

S.S.

The rest of the evening passed by incredibly quietly for an evening in with Harry. Severus was certain he'd never seen Harry so deep in thought. His sole unprompted remark before he went to bed was that he didn't have his pyjamas.

Severus summoned a garish tee-shirt that had been an awful gift from the headmaster and a newer pair of his own pyjama trousers and shrunk the latter to something approaching Harry's size. "For tonight. I'd rather not have to deal with an elf this evening."

"Thanks," Harry replied, giving him an odd look.

---

He didn't know how long he sat by the fire before Harry reappeared from his room.

"Headache?"

"No, just wanted a drink," he yawned sleepily. "How come you're still up?" he asked, surprising Severus by sitting down on the sofa opposite and curling up there instead.

"I was thinking."

"Thanks for saying sorry," Harry said suddenly. "I still don't understand what you were thinking but I believe that you thought you were doing the right thing. I do remember you saying that you didn't know how to be a guardian so... "

"I didn't say that as an excuse."

"I know but still... It's sort of nice though that you try and think about what's best for me even if you get it really, really wrong. No one else does that."

"They do. I'm frequently informed that I'm not the only person who cares about you."

"McGonagall said that it was an impossible commitment for someone to take me in, because of the wards," Harry mumbled, burying himself deeper into the sofa. Severus wasn't sure how to reply to that. He didn't want Harry to feel like he had to accept his apology out of gratitude. "I don't want to go back to the Dursleys," he continued. "I just really wanted you to be normal again. I really needed you to be normal."

"I know."

"I don't think Voldemort's doing anything tonight. It was probably a waste of time having me stay over," Harry commented, grabbing a cushion to use as a makeshift pillow.

"No, it certainly was not."

 

H.P.

Snape became fixated on Harry's need to master occlumency. He scheduled lessons frequently but not regularly, declaring that it would be best if the Dark Lord didn't determine a pattern so that he couldn't predict when Harry would become vulnerable. Not that Snape began with anything that would cause Harry's scar to act up. He had Harry practice just clearing his mind for well over a week, insisting that Harry had to be able to do it at an instant's notice.

Luckily Snape's insistence on secrecy hadn't extended to occlumency so Harry had been able to tell Hermione what he was doing, even if Snape's version of the truth meant she thought he was being taught by Dumbledore. Unfortunately, telling Hermione meant that she'd found no end of textbooks for him to read in the library.

"I've already got a book to read and I've barely started that one. I'm not going to read all of those," Harry said staring in horror at the stack of books Hermione had placed in front of him. "It's supposed to be a secret. It'll be really obvious what I'm learning if I start carting all those around."

Hermione had huffed in reply but relented.

"Why don't you read your occlumency text now then?" she suggested. Evidently she shared Snape's opinion that occlumency was the most important thing in his life. Harry wished he hadn't told her why it was so important he learn occlumency since she'd taken to pestering him about how his lessons were going whenever they had a moment alone, and considering Ron's conspicuous absence that was a lot more than usual.

"I'll read it later. I have enough time to do reading when I'm away from the tower."

All the nights away from the tower were difficult to explain away. Snape had said he could tell Hermione that he had to be monitored after his sessions but not by whom. When Harry asked about what to tell everyone else Snape had just sneered and asked why students seemed to believe they were entitled to whatever information they please.

The official line they decided on was that Harry was having private lessons with Dumbledore to give him a crash course in defensive spells before the triwizard tournament began to get him up to the level of the other champions and that he would naturally sustain minor injuries and need supervision and a check up before returning to the tower.

At the moment though, he was barely in the tower; he spent the majority of his time in the library with Hermione. Ron refused to come around and Harry had no intention of forcing the issue with him. He was either his friend or not.

Hermione seemed to sense his thoughts. "If you'd just speak to Ron, the two of you could sort this out. I know you want your friend back..."

"He's not talking to me either and I don't see why I should be the one to–" Harry lowered his voice at a glare from Madam Pince. "He's the one who's decided I put my name in the goblet, it's his problem."

"Oh, but Harry, don't you see? It's your problem too. You miss him."

"I don't need a friend like that. I'll talk to him when he admits he was wrong. I don't want to be in this tournament and if I had my way I wouldn't be in it at all!"

He was so close to telling Hermione that he might not have to compete. It frustrated him to no end that he still couldn't tell his friends anything, not that Snape and Dumbledore were working on getting him out of the tournament, or about Harry and Snape getting on. Harry had hoped that when Snape relented slightly about the occlumency he could get him to ease up with the secrecy but Ron's attitude had destroyed any hope of Snape believing his friends were trustworthy.

"Lets just do Flitwick's essay okay? I've got lessons with Dumbledore after dinner tomorrow so I won't have time then."

The only thing that could be said for hanging out in the library was that it was making his grades better but he'd never have sacrificed Ron for a few more Es or Os, not in a million years.

---

It seemed pretty obvious to Harry that Snape was hesitant to actually teach him occlumency in case his scar went off again, but eventually he deemed that Harry was ready to practice occluding and he finally begun invading Harry's mind properly. The problem was, he had clearing his mind sorted but he didn't really understand how to keep Snape out of it or how to kick him out once he got in.

The evenings became a tense affair, with Harry tired and aching, not to mention annoyed at what Snape had seen. Snape had offered to let him use his pensieve and Harry had, for all those memories that stuck out as particularly painful, but he could hardly sit there all night while Snape took every bad memory of his family from his head.

Besides, he didn't even realise half of what was even in there. Stupid things really, like when he was seven and dropped a glass in the kitchen and he'd stood terrified as his uncle stormed into the kitchen to rage at him or when Dudley had gotten a brand new bike and Harry had been aching to have one of his own, or even have a go on his.

"That last memory?" Snape asked after their fourth session as Harry took a gulp of water and retreated to the couch.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. It had been a rough end to an otherwise good day. It wasn't often in his childhood that the house would be blissfully Dudley and Uncle Vernon free and it was his good luck that Aunt Petunia had been having tea with one of her friends, leaving Harry gloriously free to entertain himself in the garden. He'd even got a chance to kick around Dudley's football seeing as no one was about to notice. The only thing that could ruin such a perfect afternoon was that Harry had stumbled quite happily into the kitchen and without realising had brought in what Aunt Petunia had screeched was 'half the back garden'.

"Aunt Petunia likes things clean."

"It was an entirely disproportionate punishment for a bit of dirt."

"I'm used to cleaning," Harry shrugged. Bit of screaming, clean up the mess, no dinner, into the cupboard. Pretty standard punishment as the Dursleys went.

"The way she dealt with you was inappropriate. You did nothing to warrant that treatment."

"I got used to it. Scrubbing the floors and going without dinner was hardly the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"That doesn't mean that this instance was insignificant. I know that you did not view it as such," Snape finished in as gentle voice as he'd ever used. Harry scowled in reply. He'd been eight, of course he'd been a bit bloody teary!

"I have a bunch of charms work to do," Harry replied, changing the subject quickly as he always did when the conversation became uncomfortable. "Can I borrow some parchment?"

Snape regarded him silently before giving into the request.

Despite the occlumency lessons, the nights Harry spent in Snape's quarters were pleasant ones. He suspected that Snape still felt guilty about how he'd treated Harry, considering that not once after they finished their occlumency session did Snape go off to brew leaving Harry alone. Instead, he would keep him company in the living room either marking his own papers or helping him with his work.

"What's that?" Harry asked, when his own essay got too boring to continue.

"Hmm?" Snape replied, concentrating on his notes and riffling quickly through a stack of parchment. Harry shuffled over on the sofa until he was close enough to look at his papers. There didn't look like there was an awful lot of his own work there, just pages and pages about headache draughts and curse scars.

"Did you want something?" Snape asked, looking down at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you finish your other potion? The one to prevent pain or something."

"No, I've put that particular project on hold. This is rather more urgent..." Snape replied, seeming to find whatever he was looking for but then scowling deeply.

"Is this to do with me?" Harry asked, seeing that Snape had underlined a passage relating to the interaction between curse scars and potions.

"You need a potion that's effective against the pain in your scar. The ones I give you either deal only with the physical effects or do nothing at all."

"Thanks," Harry replied, touched. "But... I know your other potion was important."

"It wasn't important in comparison to this. My problem with your scar is that it's entirely unique. No one else has survived the killing curse so there's no previous reference to how to treat pain in your situation."

"Professor Moody said that in defence ages ago," Harry said, frowning at the memory. "Ron said I was a bit unforgivable proof because I can throw off the Imperius curse too."

Snape looked over at him sharply. "Run that by me again, I believe I'm missing something."

"Well, I didn't die when Voldemort tried to Avada Kedavra me and I can break out of the Imperius curse. I don't know about Cruciatus; I wouldn't want to test that out."

"Who used the Imperius curse on you?" Snape growled, catching Harry off guard.

"Professor Moody, in class. He did it to everyone."

"Unforgivables on students? He's casting Unforgivables on students? Why didn't you say anything?" Snape roared, suddenly on his feet, his papers scattering all over the floor.

"It's not like it's a secret; he did it to everyone. Er, I think you might be overreacting a bit," Harry added, as Snape stood, seething.

"It is an Unforgivable curse, Harry. The mere use of it against another person is life in Azkaban. He had no right! What did he have you do?"

"Just jump around the room a bit. I mostly fell over," Harry replied keeping his tone as casual as possible to try and keep Snape from getting even more angry.

"If he so much as draws his wand on you again then you tell me, Harry! He dares traipse around my dungeons," Snape began muttering angrily, pacing back and forth by the fire. Harry thought it was a bit much for Snape to say he should have spoken to him seeing as they were barely communicating at the start of term but decided not to say so in case it set Snape off yelling again.

S.S.

Unforgivables on students! That lunatic had some nerve calling Severus' loyalties into question when he uses dark curses on children. The headmaster would certainly be hearing about this! If anyone in this castle needed watching it was Moody.

He wanted to go now, to tell Dumbledore that he'd gone one worse this year. Last year a werewolf and this year a madman; who'd be teaching defence next year, a bloody Death Eater? He sat back down on the couch tapping his leg impatiently. He couldn't go now though, he needed to watch Harry in case he was attacked through his scar and he'd decided not to leave the child to his own devices when he had him over for the evening.

It wasn't any trouble to actually spend time with the boy and it was obvious that Harry appreciated the attention. After his dismal behaviour as a guardian at the start of term he knew that he could use the reassurance.

"Sir?" It wasn't lost on him that Harry had gone back to calling him Sir or Professor. He'd barely had a moment of being called Severus and he'd lost it immediately. "Professor Moody said that Dumbledore said it was OK. I think he said Dumbledore asked him to show us how the curses worked."

He did not. He did not. They've both gone mad; Moody and Dumbledore have gone mad.

---

"You have a mad man roaming this castle," he declared in a towering temper as he flooed into the headmaster's office.

"Severus do try and calm yourself, all this anger isn't good for you," the headmaster replied tiredly as if he'd had quite enough of Severus' anger this year already.

He tried to school his expression into something resembling calm professionalism but knew he'd failed. "Did you verify that Moody hadn't gone completely insane before you hired him?"

"It isn't too much trouble to ask that members of staff in this castle behave appropriately towards each other. I know there is animosity between the pair of you but this must stop. You are on the same side."

"I've not come to discuss his harassment of me. Did you ask him to cast unforgivable curses on the students?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. I merely permitted him to demonstrate the effects of the spells with some of the older students but certainly not by performing them on the students themselves."

"He's been using the Imperius curse on students in class under the pretext of instruction. He may well be doing it outside of class. The man isn't sane."

"You witnessed this yourself?" the headmaster asked, snapping instantly from weary tolerance to serious concern.

"No, Harry told me. From what he said, he's performed it on at least his entire class but I would assume the majority of the higher year students. If word got out, he'd be locked up. Not even his reputation as an auror would be enough to keep him out of Azkaban, people already think he's losing his mind."

"Mildly paranoid but certainly not insane, Severus. This is curious indeed. I'll be keeping a close eye on him. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"That's it? The man imperiused students!"

"This could be a good deal more serious than your personal vendetta against the man. Allow me some time to investigate the matter. Trust me, Severus."

He had no choice but to trust him. Insubordination where Harry was concerned was a personal matter, but this certainly was not. The headmaster would draw the line somewhere and Severus knew better than to cross it.

---

H.P.

A few days later Harry dropped into the seat next to Neville at breakfast. Hermione had dashed off to the library to check some fact or other before they handed in their herbology essays that morning leaving Harry at a bit of a loss. It was strange how he could miss his best friend when he was only a couple of seats away, although looking pointedly in the other direction.

"You all right, Neville?"

"I'm trying to finish Snape's questions..." he answered distractedly, not touching his food in favour of staring with despair at his parchment.

"That's not until after lunch. We've got Herbology first."

"It's not enough time. I just don't get potions," Neville replied anxiously. "And after what he's been saying about my essays and what he did to your work–" Harry winced, assuming he meant when Snape had burnt his work in front of the class.

"Don't worry about that Neville. I'm sure your work's fine."

Just then Harry was distracted by an unfamiliar owl dropping a letter on his bacon. He knew it was yet another message from Sirius. They'd been coming more and more often, bearing warnings to watch out for trouble 'where he least expected it' and that 'not everyone at Hogwarts could be trusted'. Sirius' letters had been getting increasingly agitated ever since Harry had revealed that his name had come out of the goblet of fire.

He hadn't hesitated to cast blame upon any and everyone Harry had mentioned, from Karkaroff to Malfoy to Snape. Harry had tactfully decided not to bring that up with Snape. His new policy was not to talk to either of them about the other seeing as Sirius kept insinuating Snape was dangerous and Snape would sneer whenever Sirius was mentioned.

He wouldn't be mentioning this bit of news then. Sirius was living within reach of Hogsmeade and wanted to see him! Harry couldn't help but let some worry filter into his excitement. Yeah, he loved seeing Sirius but it was hardly worth the risk. He'd never forgive himself if Sirius was caught because he thought Harry was in danger. Because he wasn't... Well, he wasn't in danger from Snape and the professor was trying his best to take care of the actual threat for him. He didn't need Sirius to take risks for him, but from what he knew of Sirius by now, the man was nothing short of determined and there was no persuading him.

Fortunately for Sirius he was going to Hogsmeade. He couldn't believe his luck the morning after their big fight Snape had agreed over breakfast that perhaps Harry could go to Hogsmeade if he continued to behave himself. His words being that he'd `undoubtedly made a difficult situation worse` and Harry `wasn't entirely at fault for his abysmal decisions.` Now knowing how it had worked in his favour he felt doubly lucky and grinned in relief.

Harry had appreciated that Snape had taken the punishment back. If nothing else it proved that Snape agreed he'd been wrong to treat Harry the way he had, but it wasn't lost on him that being a bit distant wasn't the worst thing Snape could have done. Knowing Snape there was no end of horrible things he could do if he truly wanted to make Harry unhappy, which made it easier for him to believe that Snape had honestly made a mistake. It was hard to see Snape as someone who didn't know what he was doing, but seeing him so apologetic and ill at ease made it hard for him to be too resentful.

"I finished that work for Snape with Hermione a few days ago. Do you want to double check yours against mine?" Harry offered, wishing Neville could see a bit of the nicer Snape and not the terrifying dungeon bat persona.

"No, I think he might know if I cheated."

"It's not cheating," Harry started but cut off, distracted by Malfoy and his faithful band of Slytherins strolling past flashing their 'Potter Stinks' badges and smirking. They'd taken to wondering loudly at his chances for survival in the tournament whenever he was within earshot. Far from making him nervous, he was getting more and more relieved that the subject of his family was getting further from their minds.

Harry's only reaction to their taunting was to roll his eyes and continue to persuade Neville to check his work. "Just have a look at mine and then you won't have to spend all morning worrying. It's not really cheating."

"Go on then," Neville replied, holding his hand out for Harry's work sheet. "You seem loads happier lately, even considering the Slytherins..." he said hesitatingly and then glanced down at Harry's folded up letter.

"Yeah, things are working out," he commented with a grin, his mind going to his evenings in Snape's quarters rather than his correspondence with Sirius and Remus.

Ron, sitting only two seats away, snorted.

---

Harry tried to remember to act like he was bothered by the Slytherins' taunts as the two houses lined up outside the dungeons. They could take loud bets on whether he'd survive the first task all they liked. He might not even be competing! That'd wipe the smug looks of their faces.

"Weasley! Fancy a bet? Best odds are on Potter dying ten minutes into the first task. If you win maybe you'd be rid of the stench of poverty–"

The dungeon door opened suddenly cutting Malfoy off mid-rant as Snape indicated for them to enter. Harry threw Malfoy a glare on the way to his own desk and then darted a look at Ron who looked to be in a foul temper. He couldn't find it in him to be that sympathetic after how Ron had been acting lately.

He set his mind on how to ask Snape to change his occlumency lesson to another evening. The last thing he needed was for Snape to find out he was planning on meeting up with Sirius and then ban him from going.

Harry looked down into his cauldron at the end if the lesson. Getting on his good side by doing his potion correctly was out. A shadow seemed to obscure the already too dark potion. Of course Snape had noticed that something had gone wrong.

"Do those hideous glasses have a purpose other than being perched on the end of your nose, Potter?"

"What? Sir?" Harry responded, thrown off by the comment. Snape didn't usually deviate from the arrogant, Boy-Who-Lived material.

"Can you read? Perhaps it isn't that travesty of a pair of spectacles, are you illiterate?"

"No."

"Ah. In that case you're merely as stupid as you look. Who can explain what Potter's done wrong?" he asked the class and Harry bit his lip to stop himself from replying.

"He didn't add the mashed slugs, sir," Malfoy replied smarmily from next to his shimmering violet potion. Harry had the urge to hex him into a shimmering violet puddle right where he stood.

"Five points to Slytherin. Detention, Potter. Perhaps an evening mashing slugs will teach you a lesson."

Surely there was a less drawn out way of getting him to stay behind after class.

"What's wrong with my glasses?" Harry exclaimed when the door finally shut behind the last student.

"It occurred to me that you've been wearing that pair for years. Go to madam Pomfrey and have your eyes checked and your glasses fixed properly."

"She's not an optician."

"All medi-witches and wizards have had training to deal with optical conditions."

"Fine, I'll go," Harry agreed just to keep Snape in a good mood. "You could just give me a detention. You don't have to rip into me so much."

"On the contrary, I do. And if that's the case then it may as well serve a purpose. I'm aware that it is the first Hogsmeade Saturday tomorrow–"

"You said I could go!" Harry said, maybe a little louder than he'd intended.

"Thank you, Harry. I would never have remembered if I hadn't held you back after class to have you deafen me with the knowledge."

Harry huffed. "You have a bit of a thing about threatening to stop me going."

"Mm. An occlumency session tonight would put your trip at risk if your scar is affected. I suggest postponing it until tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow? Yeah, that's great," Harry agreed, trying not to let his face split into a wide grin in case Snape suspected anything, but something must have shown because Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Don't wander off alone tomorrow. Stay with someone at all times, in a group, preferably."

"I won't be alone in Hogsmeade. It wouldn't be much fun if I was by myself, would it?"

"Any particular reason you forgot to add a key ingredient to your potion?" Snape asked, ignoring his cheek.

"I must have skipped a line of instructions. I wasn't the only one who messed up."

"Don't use other people's failures to explain your own. Pay attention to the instructions or you'll be getting real detentions until you get the potions right," Snape threatened, although with less venom than he used to.

"I don't make mistakes on purpose."

"They're stupid mistakes and I don't wish to see you repeat them."

"I'll pay more attention," Harry said giving in. "See you tomorrow then," he said, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder.

"Behave yourself," Snape replied, shooing him out with a wave of his hand.

Harry caught up with Hermione and told her all about Sirius' plan to meet up the next day. If Ron would just come round then everything would start to fall into place. He'd get to see Sirius, Snape had stopped being distant, and he'd have his friends back. Everyone else had a family and their mates, so why couldn't he have that too?

---

It was with only a small amount of guilt but mainly excitement that Saturday morning Harry and Hermione climbed over a rocky pass to get to the cave that Sirius had indicated in his latest letter. He wasn't alone, he reasoned to himself, and as soon as they got to Sirius it would technically make it a group of them. Snape couldn't really be mad about it, seeing as being with Sirius was probably safer than a bunch of fourth year Gryffindors.

"Sirius!"

"Hello Harry," he replied wrapping him in a close one-armed hug.

"Hello Mr. Black," Hermione said with a hint of nervousness but Sirius returned her greeting warmly.

Sirius seemed more unkempt than usual, looking more like the man they'd met in the shrieking shack than the one he'd been spending time with at Remus' house.

"Are you all right?"

"Of course. I've been roughing it for a while but it's no problem and I'd rather be closer to the castle in case you need anything. This tournament then, Harry. Tell me exactly what's going on." Harry explained all that he knew so far, leaving out anything that Snape had mentioned to him. He was glad that Sirius, just like Snape, really wanted to protect him. He'd never had so many people actually interested in looking out for him! But in his letters Sirius' accusations tended towards the wild and he was constantly making sly digs at Snape and his loyalty.

"This Karkaroff, he's one to watch. He used to be a Death Eater, got out of prison by making a deal, I think. Then there's Snape, Death Eater too, not in Azkaban on a technicality." Harry thought it was low of Sirius to bring Snape up when he knew he couldn't defend him.

"Really?" Hermione half exclaimed as if she couldn't quite believe it. "Are you sure he used to be a Death Eater?"

"Still is as far as I'm concerned, just as much as Karkaroff."

"Why does Dumbledore have him around then?"

"Seems to think he's trustworthy," Sirius threw out casually as if he couldn't understand it himself.

"He must have a reason. You must be able to think of something?" Harry pushed, as if he was just as curious as Hermione.

"He was reported to have changed sides and started spying before you stopped You-Know-Who, but he was a Death Eater and who's to say he wasn't spying for his old master?"

"He was a real Death Eater before he was a spy?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Can you trust a man who joined You-Know-Who willingly?"

"Professor Dumbledore must have a reason and Professor Snape has saved Harry's life before..." Hermione mused aloud. Sirius didn't contradict her merely giving Harry a look that he didn't need to be a genius to interpret.

Harry couldn't think of much else and was distracted for the remainder of the conversation. He was sure Snape hadn't said anything about that when he'd explained about his spying and what Death Eaters were. He'd just assumed when everyone at the World Cup said he was a Death Eater that they hadn't known or trusted that he was a spy.

Hermione shot him a worried look on the way back into Hogsmeade and Harry tried to perk up a bit. This lying business wasn't easy, not at all.

---

S.S.

Severus slammed shut the last book he had borrowed from the headmaster on the subject of curse scars. It was as they'd suspected, there simply was nothing that was of relevance to Harry in their resources. Without any concrete information the best hope Severus had would be trial and error, and the only way to test out the potions would be during an attack. He'd wanted to avoid Harry suffering, but it was looking more and more inevitable as his research proved fruitless.

The floo flared green and Severus rose, jumping forward quickly to catch Harry as he tumbled with more force than usual out of the fireplace.

"Were you a real Death Eater before you started spying?" Harry blurted with no preamble as Severus righted him. He blinked quickly, trying to recover from the shock of the question.

"Yes," he replied bluntly, dropping Harry's arm and stepping away.

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"When it became necessary."

Severus watched Harry's reactions carefully to get an indication of how he was taking the information. He'd been so preoccupied with the tournament and getting Harry somewhat settled that he'd not truly thought about when they would discuss his past.

"Don't you think I deserved to know when I agreed to live with you?"

"Deserved to know?" Severus' eyebrows shot up. He most definitely took exception to that. "I am not accountable to you, Potter, and I do not discuss my past with all and sundry."

It seemed that Harry took exception to that. "But I'm–" He frowned, struggling to finish his sentence.

"What?" Severus growled.

"I don't know, but you're my guardian," Harry said, crossing his arms, his face set in a stubborn scowl.

"You're my ward." He exhaled sharply. "If it had been a question of an adoption then you would have been informed. Our agreement is not so formal; you aren't legally bound to me. If the information bothers you to such an extent that you cannot live with me, then I will do my best to arrange for another guardian to take over next summer," he said stiffly.

"I don't want another guardian," Harry exclaimed. "Look, you know everything about me, stuff that I wouldn't have told anybody, least of all you! I'm glad you know now. It worked out, didn't it?" Harry rushed to explain. "But I don't know you. You used to be a Death Eater and you didn't tell me."

"Had you asked sooner, I would not have lied." When it seemed as if Harry had something to say to that Severus held up his hand for silence and Harry held his tongue. "I have answered for my crimes and I will atone for them. I have begun atoning for them," he corrected himself. "But it is at my discretion that I discuss my past, not at your demand."

"You know everything about me and you go on about my past all the time. You see it when we do occlumency. You should have told me," he insisted.

"You are fourteen, Harry. You were not even cognizant of what a Death Eater was until this summer."

He looked for an instant as though he didn't know how to respond to that but rallied after a moment. "Well I am now, aren't I? And I had a right to know the truth when you took me in."

Severus bared his teeth in anger, struggling to keep in control. A right? He thinks he had a right to know? "You want to know the truth," he spat. "I was a Death Eater, Potter. I joined the Dark Lord freely and willingly and I served him with pride. I have committed unspeakable crimes; I have done things you cannot imagine," Severus continued, towering over Harry, causing him to back up a step towards the fireplace.

"Don't, all right? Don't try to scare me; I'm not frightened of you."

"If I owe you the truth, if you deserve it, then you shall have it. I joined in the persecution of muggles, muggleborns and halfbloods–"

"You're a halfblood though, aren't you?" Harry interrupted as though he knew what Severus was doing and was trying to cut him off before he developed a real head of steam.

"Yes. Hatred doesn't often make sense. No one is claiming that the Dark Lord is the embodiment of wisdom."

"I know you don't want me to know or ask but I have to. Can't you understand that?"

Surprisingly, he could. Now that Harry knew, he would expect him to want to talk about it, to need to even. This wasn't how he would have brought the subject up but he had never wanted the conversation to go like this.

"You have questions?" he barked out.

"You just said it was at you discretion that you discuss your past."

"And I just invited you to ask your damned questions!" he yelled, losing the small amount of patience he had left.

"Do you still buy into the whole muggleborn rubbish?" Harry demanded boldly, his arms still folded, although as a defensive gesture more than anything else. Harry was all bravado, determined to have a conversation that Severus was doing all he could to make as difficult as possible.

Severus ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. He'd have much rather instigated this conversation at a time of his own choosing but he didn't want it to be a battle between the pair of them. He stalked past Harry to the kitchen and managed to calm his temper in the time it took to get Harry a butterbeer and himself a glass of water. Harry looked surprised when he returned, thrusted the butterbeer into his hand and then sat down and waited for Harry to do the same.

"I never truly did. There are more reasons than the obvious to join the Dark Lord's cause," he answered finally, a good deal calmer.

"Like what?"

"The Dark Lord promised many things, and for his loyal followers? Power, acceptance, a cause to fight for."

"You must have agreed with him though, to have joined up and gone along with it."

"I was a very angry young man, for many reasons, and he was very persuasive. So, yes, to some extent I thought he had the right idea. Outside of his influence, however, I wasn't overly concerned with bloodlines or blood purity."

"Then why did you join up at all? Surely if one of your parents was a muggle..." Severus gave him a pointed look and Harry thought for a moment, picking awkwardly at the label on his bottle. "You, um, had a hard time at home then."

"That was part of it, but not all. Nevertheless, I had had friends who were muggleborn. I knew he was wrong and yet I joined up. It was more complicated than merely buying into his pureblood ideology. There were many witches and wizards who agreed with him but didn't join up, you understand?"

"Sirius always says you really like the dark arts..."

"Oh, yes, there was a tremendous lure towards the dark arts, one that I was too weak to deny. This is an instance where your strength far outstripped my own. Never once have you been tempted, whereas I, I was utterly absorbed by them. I thought they could right all the wrongs I had suffered, that revenge would satisfy me."

"I didn't even know I was a wizard until I was eleven. I didn't know about dark magic to be interested in it."

"Nevertheless, even when you began at Hogwarts they did not interest you."

"Did you do the things that Death Eaters did?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"I've done and been witness to unspeakable things, things I have no intention of repeating to you or anyone save the headmaster. If you are to live with me then you must live with the knowledge that I have done unforgivable things. Perhaps I should have told you, but you are fourteen. You cannot comprehend how young that seems."

"I'm old enough for Voldemort–" Harry huffed at the glare Severus sent him. "For Him to try to kill me and to know what Death Eaters are and that you're going to be a spy and pretend to be one, but I'm not old enough to know that you used to be one? Not knowing doesn't make it go away," Harry said, frowning and displaying a maturity that Severus hadn't expected. "Why did you change sides?"

"He went too far. He wanted to do something I could not abide and so I threw myself at the mercy of the headmaster." Severus knew that his explanation wasn't exactly clear. Had he known this was coming he would have thought in advance and prepared what he would say to a child who couldn't understand and who he couldn't fully explain his past to. "How did you find out?" he asked after a moment, though he could probably guess.

"Sirius mentioned. He really doesn't trust you." He gave a shrug that seemed to indicate that he'd tried to talk him round and failed. "I think if I hadn't lived with you, I would have realised you were a real Death Eater before you were a spy, or I wouldn't have been surprised, because you know, you do seem a bit..."

"Evil?"

"Maybe. In class and stuff, not here. I think he thought I'd stop trusting you when I found out but... I still do."

H.P.

Snape raised his eyebrows as if he hadn't been expecting that but he didn't pry and Harry was glad. He didn't really want to explain out loud to him why he still trusted him, he just knew that he could. After all, Dumbledore did, Remus did, all the teachers here did and they must all know about his past. That and he had saved his life more than once.

It was more than that though, he just knew. His instincts told him he could trust Snape. Snape felt like safety and like home and while he certainly didn't like what was in Snape's past, he couldn't find it in him to not trust the man in front of him now.

"You can ask, you can always ask your questions," Snape said after a moment but he seemed to have reached his limit for the evening. "As for whether I will answer them, that is my choice."

They sat in silence for a while, Snape staring off into the distance and Harry finishing his drink awkwardly.

"I, um, went to Madam Pomfrey. She said she'd do my eyes after dinner on Wednesday."

"I won't schedule occlumency for that evening."

"Do you, er, need a headache potion?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I'm quite capable of getting myself what I need. I believe I am the Potions Master in this castle."

"All right."

Snape seemed to come to some sort of decision and he stood, sighing deeply.

"Come mangle some vegetables for me then. We'll do occlumency after dinner tonight."

---

Harry left the weighing of the wands ceremony more than a little put out. The more he got involved in the tournament process the more it felt like he had to compete. Dumbledore hadn't said anything to him about it either but at least he'd gotten him away from that awful Skeeter woman. She was a right cow; he hadn't been crying! 

He wished he hadn't been pulled out of potions to do the wand weighing thing because if anything it seemed to make Ron even angrier with him. He wanted to complain to Hermione about what Skeeter had been writing about him but he didn't want to say anything about doing an interview in front of Ron. He didn't want to make it all worse, especially if Hermione was right and Ron was jealous.

"So, what happened?" Hermione asked as he sat down to dinner.

"Just making sure our wands work and stuff," Harry mumbled, aware that Ron was only one or two seats away and doing everything possible to look as though he hadn't noticed Harry's arrival. Actually there was a chance he hadn't considering how enthusiastically he was digging into his mashed potatoes.

"What did I miss with Snape?"

"We just had to finish the assignment. Then he asked Ron to clear your used ingredients up and then took twenty points off him for swearing. Ron's a bit upset about it."

"He swore at Snape?" Harry said in total shock. Not even he went that far and Snape did a damn sight more to him then ask him to clean up someone else's stuff!

"He was muttering under his breath but as if Professor Snape would have missed it or an opportunity to take points."

"You're not having a meeting with Professor Dumbledore today then?" Hermione asked as Harry munched his way through a massive pile of roast potatoes.

"No, I'm getting my eyes done. Did you know Madam Pomfrey does eye tests?"

"No, but I don't know why I didn't think of it. I suppose witches and wizards wouldn't go to muggle opticians..."

"Come with me. I need to talk to you about something anyway." It'd be easier to tell Hermione his big news on the way down to the infirmary and most people were still at dinner. Snape had decided his detention from the previous week would be best served after class the day before and had spent the hour chatting to Harry about the first task.

Well, he'd actually spend a large portion of the hour telling Harry that he wouldn't be facing any damn dragon but they'd have to prepare a plan to deal with any circumstance and that included having to participate in the first task. Harry had been quite reassured at the time but now after having a day to think about the fact that he may well have to go up against a massive dragon... Well, he was feeling quite a bit less reassured.

"Dragons!" Hermione gasped. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I– er– overheard Karkaroff telling Krum," Harry lied quickly.

"But it's supposed to be a secret! It's against the rules to tell the champions what the tasks are."

"I don't think the headteachers are that fussed about all of that," Harry replied. At least that's what Snape had said. Something about inter-school rivalry.

"You really should be getting defence lessons from Professor Dumbledore..."

Harry nodded his agreement but kept silent. What could he say? He certainly couldn't just blurt out 'don't worry, Snape's working on it. If I have to compete Snape says he'll cheat as much as he pleases to make sure I come out of this unhurt'. Snape might be some super-spy or whatever but he's not and he knew sooner or later Hermione would pick apart his lies and he won't know what to do or say.

S.S.

"I have in fact had a break through of sorts," the headmaster announced when Snape arrived for their meeting. He knew better than to get his hopes up at that statement, but they really were running out of time before this damned tournament got under way and any breakthrough was a good sign. "Though I am afraid it may well not be to your liking. There is no way to tell whether Harry will be obliged to compete until the moment of the first task. He will either be compelled to make some effort or he will be free to back out should he choose."

"And how exactly do we determine whether he is or isn't affected?"

"If Harry can leave the arena once he's stepped into it then that will be enough to ascertain whether he will have to compete. And if he steps out then I will announce that without the contract he is forbidden from competing in the interest of his safety and fairness to the other schools." The reluctance on the headmaster's part was noted but he was grateful, at least, that something could be done.

"Thank you."

"You haven't reconsidered your position? Harry might be able to get out of this tournament but he will not be able to get out the prophecy."

"No, he will not," Severus agreed, recalling Harry's words from a few days before. 'Not knowing doesn't make it go away.' "Do you think perhaps it is time to tell him about it?"

"I hadn't planned on telling him at the moment."

"Why not? You're right, the Dark Lord will continue in his attempts and Harry may as well understand why he's being hunted down."

"He's quite young to hear the prophecy in full, don't you think?" If he'd been a man of lesser self control he'd have scoffed.

"He's not too young for this tournament, but he's too young to hear why the Dark Lord wants him killed?

"It's a lot of responsibility to heap on his shoulders."

"I'm not the one proposing he fights basilisks or dragons! I'll explain that he doesn't need to do anything until he's grown. I wanted to keep him in the dark earlier this summer but it makes no sense if the Dark Lord is going to continue to threaten him."

"I'm not certain there ever will be a right time to tell him, but I still feel that it is too soon."

"And if Harry asks why the Dark Lord wants him dead, what would you have me answer?"

"He's never asked outright but I suppose if he were to ask then the truth would be the most appropriate answer."

"The threat to him is present and you are correct, it isn't going to disappear. I would rather explain that to him now than further down the line. I'm asking for permission as an Order member to tell Harry the prophecy."

The headmaster looked surprised at the consideration but pleased all the same. "You have my permission. If I may make a suggestion? Permit him to tell his friends."

"I was under the impression that this prophecy was sensitive information."

"It doesn't do to isolate Harry from his friends. They are a great source of strength for him. You will not always be able to protect him."

"You cannot have missed that he and Weasley aren't speaking?" Severus all but sneered. Weasley would find himself in a great many more detentions and losing more than a few points if that attitude of his didn't change.

"I'm not suggesting you force him to tell Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, merely that you permit him if he wishes to. They are loyal."

"Because they're Gryffindors?"

"Because they've stood alongside him and I'm sure they will continue to do so."

H.P.

"Do you still have that massive encyclopaedia of plant properties? I actually want it to look something up this time," Harry asked the moment Snape appeared through the floo. He'd scanned Snape's bookshelves but he reckoned Snape might have taken it away after Harry had started using it as a makeshift desk when he worked on the couch.

"In your room. It's too basic to be of any use to me, you may as well keep it."

"Oh. Thanks, but you don't have to–" Snape cut him off with a wave off his hand.

"Sit, I have something important to discuss with you."

Harry did as he was told, eyeing Snape warily. He seemed to be more serious than usual, which was saying something.

"Is this about the tournament? I have to compete, don't I?"

"Let me speak, Harry," he chastised pointedly. "The headmaster cannot know for sure if you are bound to compete until the first task has begun."

"So I have to do it," Harry figured aloud.

"I don't believe you are obliged to compete but there is a chance that you may have to make an attempt. If that is the case then you follow my instructions regarding the dragon and we will renew our attempts to have you taken out after the first task. Either way, your life will not be in any danger. I will be in those stands, as will the headmaster. I still believe you won't have to compete but we need to be prepared for the eventuality that you will have to face a dragon."

"What does Dumbledore think?"

"Professor Dumbledore is undecided. Which comes to what I need to discuss with you."

"We're not talking about the tournament?" Harry asked.

Snape took a breath as if he was about to start a lengthy lecture and was ordering his thoughts. "I don't need to tell you that the Dark Lord, even in his current state, has had an enormous impact on your life and even now he is a threat to you in particular."

"Yeah, I know he wants me dead. Did you find out that it's definitely Voldemort behind this whole triwizard thing?"

"I'll take points every time I hear that name; I've told you enough times. Do. Not. Say. It. It is the Dark Lord, we hardly need more evidence," Severus said, with not a little scorn. "I'm not telling you this because there is any expectation on you to do anything, is that clear?" Harry nodded hurriedly when it was obvious that Snape was actually waiting for a response.

"If I manage to stop you competing, the Dark Lord will not stop targeting you. There is more to this than a desire for revenge or to tie up loose ends." He paused for a moment and regarded Harry carefully before continuing. "There is a prophecy regarding yourself and the Dark Lord. He doesn't know the prophecy in it's entirety but what he does know is enough for him to single you out and try to kill you."

"A prophecy?" Harry repeated, trying to get his head around this new development. "So, when I was a baby…"

"He tried to kill you because of the prophecy."

"My parents are dead because of a prophecy," Harry reasoned, somewhat numbly. "What is it? What does it say?"

Harry stayed silent even after Snape had finished recounting the prophecy...'neither can live while the other survives...' He had no family, his parents were murdered and he grew up with the Dursleys instead, all because of a prophecy.

"In the short term this changes nothing. He will not get to you," Snape reassured him in the silence.

"How long have you known about it?"

"It is by no means new knowledge to me." Harry thought he could have spoken less evasively but he had more important things to worry about.

"And no one was going to tell me?"

"I'm telling you now," Snape replied quite calmly.

"It's my life! I think I deserve to know that I'm the one who's supposed to off Volde– Him or that I'm pretty much destined to be killed by him."

"You are not destined to be killed. You have met him and survived on two occasions already. No one expects you to do anything. I am telling you because he will not stop; I can pull you out of this tournament but he will not stop trying to kill you."

"I think I knew in a way that he was always going to want to kill me. He was hardly going to give up after all the trouble I caused him already. Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"It was not for me to tell you. Until recently I was charged with keeping you alive, nothing more. I am not entirely certain it was wise to tell you now."

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"As you indicated 'not knowing will not make it go away'. I realised that I cannot keep your childhood free from the Dark Lord. I cannot protect you by hiding you from the truth and I would rather you took the danger seriously than have you throw yourself into it as you have been inclined to do in the past. In light of the prophecy, the headmaster would rather you compete in the tournament. It is rather a bone of contention between us."

"He wants me to go up against him now?" Harry asked, wide eyed and appalled.

"Don't be stupid; of course not. He doesn't believe you'll come to harm at all but with the tournament we know where the Dark Lord's focus is."

"So, Professor Dumbledore wants me to compete because we know that's how He plans on getting to me? Does he think He just hopes I'll die during one of the tasks?"

"I think his reasoning is that it is good training, but, yes, if you stay in the tournament we know what the threat is. The headmaster believes that if he pulls you out then we no longer know what the Dark Lord plans and we may force him to act out of desperation."

"So, stay in a trap or worry that if I don't compete he'll think of something else?"

"The headmaster is right to point out that we may force a desperate move from the Dark Lord and he truly does not believe that anything could go seriously wrong during the tournament."

"He must think he can get me or he wouldn't bother, would he?"

"That is what I believe. I still intend to have you taken out of the tournament."

"What am I going to do about the prophecy?" Harry asked. It was all too much to take in. He had the tournament and then the prophecy and–

"Nothing. You will live with me and I will train you and keep you safe until you are a competent adult wizard and prepared to face the Dark Lord. A confrontation is inevitable, with or without the prophecy, I won't deny that, but I will do everything in my power to stop you meeting him until you are ready."

---

S.S.

Perhaps he had made an error telling Harry now, Severus considered, watching him with concern. He looked the very picture of overwhelmed.

"I don't need to impress upon you the importance of keeping this prophecy a secret?" Snape continued and Harry nodded. "Despite that, the headmaster was rather insistent that you be able to tell Granger and Weasley." Harry looked relieved at that and his expression lightened minutely before darkening once more.

"I don't think Ron wants to know to be honest," Harry said, kicking his heels into the sofa in agitation. "So, occlumency then…"

"Later. It's a Saturday tomorrow; you can lie in. I want you to settle your mind again before I attack it. Show me the herbology work you're doing."

Harry didn't move, staring into space as if trying to reorganise his brain to fit in this new piece of information. "Is this why you've taken me in, because I'm important? Not in general, I mean important for killing Voldemort," Harry asked suddenly as Severus summoned the encyclopaedia that Harry had asked for.

"I don't know how you managed to come to that conclusion but let me tell you something. Look at me. That is the single most stupid and illogical thing you have ever said, you imbecile." It occurred to Severus a little belatedly that he ought to have put that a little more tactfully. "Your importance, as you deem it, is rather more of an inconvenience than a reason to become your guardian." That hadn't come out right either. He was more than likely supposed to be saying something positive and reassuring. "I don't care about you because you've been prophesied to kill the Dark Lord." That would have to do.

"Or be killed by him," Harry corrected. "But thanks, I think."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for using that name and for such an idiotic question."

Harry gave a half hearted glare at that but got up to get his work. "If you want to help me with my work can we do transfiguration instead? Professor McGonagall just set us a transfiguration essay and I don't get what she was saying about transforming organic properties…" Harry asked, rooting through his bag for his notes.

---

The occlumency session had not gone well and Severus had called a halt to it sooner than he would have liked. Harry couldn't concentrate, which should have been expected but was, of course, a worry. He needed to be proficient enough at occlumency to be able to hold his shields up even when under pressure or in shock. Holding up against the Dark Lord was going to take more skill than he was currently exhibiting and Severus was finding it hard not to express his impatience at Harry's progress.

He'd left Harry for a moment 'reading' his textbook. He knew that Harry needed time to think. The prophecy was a lot to come to terms with and he had already been affected by it; he'd lost his family, been forced to live with abusive relatives, he was being threatened by the Dark Lord and now was left with the knowledge that his life would continue in that vein until he killed the Dark Lord himself.

Perhaps it was too much to tell him now, but he would have asked eventually. If he got pulled out of the tournament he would have a small reprieve before the Dark Lord tried something else... Ignorance may well be bliss but ignorance didn't get Harry trained to defend himself, and ignorance wouldn't save his life when the time came.

"Blast," Severus cursed as he heard a piercing shriek from the living room. It would be today of all days! The sight that met him was in stark contrast to that of Harry pretending to read his occlumency textbook as he had been not a few moments before. Now, Harry was writhing in agony, close to tumbling off the couch, hands covering his face. Severus caught him before he could fall and summoned a vial of pain reliever, stronger than usual, and with a few enhancements particular to curse scars but likely to be ineffective.

"Open your mouth. Harry, open–" Harry did so but only to let out another pain filled scream. Not unconscious but unresponsive, he noted. Severus gritted his teeth and upended the vial into the child's mouth, hoping that Harry would be aware enough to swallow the contents.

"Accio salve! No, no," he muttered, grabbing Harry's hands and holding them away from his scar as blood began dripping in great globs from where Harry had dug his nails into his flesh. Trapping Harry's hands seemed to panic him more in whatever torment he was suffering that he couldn't wake from and he struggled hard in Severus's grip.

He wasted no time in opening the salve, transferring Harry's hands to just one of his as he scooped out a dollop of the numbing salve. Harry had become even less cooperative, barrelling straight into his chest in his unconscious search for something else to scrape the scar from his head. "No, back–"

He tried unsuccessfully to pry Harry from him while keeping a grip on his hands and in the end Severus did the only thing he could. He clamped Harry's arms to his sides with one of his own round his back, one hand dangling useless and numb from the salve he couldn't get on Harry's scar, the other hand holding Harry's head in place as he continued to scream himself hoarse.

It wasn't long before the screams died away, replaced by groans of pain and sharp gulps of air. Unconscious or not he couldn't leave him to his pain, nor could he solve it, so he kept Harry pinned tightly to his chest and stopped him from injuring himself further. Damned potion did nothing, yet again.

H.P.

The presence in his mind lifted and he blinked as the image in his head cleared. He was aware of a fading pain in his scar and an awful noise, which he soon realised were his own moans. He gritted his teeth to try and get himself under control but still he couldn't stop. More disconcerting was the fact that he was trapped in a painfully tight hold that was in complete contrast to the sensation of being rocked slowly back and forth.

He wriggled his left arm weakly and it was clamped tighter to his side, but what he suddenly realised was a hand holding his head began moving, carding his fingers through his hair in a deliberate soothing movement as the slow rocking continued. His eyes started burning again as awareness dawned fully and he relaxed into Snape's hold, not wanting to say anything to disturb this even if Snape was holding him too tightly for it to be comfortable.

"You're hurting me a bit," Harry eventually said when he'd definitely lost all sensation in one of his arms. Snape clearly hadn't realised he'd woken up as he was released abruptly, so much so that he almost tipped forward off the couch. He wiped quickly at his face with his sleeve even though Snape would probably have already noticed if he'd been crying. He frowned when he saw it covered in red streaks of blood. His hand went to his scar, surprised that it would bleed no matter how much pain he was in, but Snape grabbed his hand roughly and pulled it away.

"Don't touch your scar," he growled. "What happened exactly? You weren't aware of what was going on here but you didn't seem unconscious." Snape gestured for Harry to sit back on the sofa and summoned a jar of salve which he held awkwardly in his right hand.

"Uh.." Harry tried to start, his voice coming out as a harsh croak. Snape conjured a glass, filled it with water and handed it to him. He sipped it slowly, thinking of how to start as Snape waved his wand quickly over his face, leaving him feeling a good deal cleaner, then set to work dabbing the salve on his scar.

"Voldemort was just there. I could see him in that creepy house but he was in my head too. At first I couldn't feel anything from him, you know like when he's really happy or angry?" He waited for Snape to nod. "But then it was like he was ecstatic. He said things to me... my head wasn't safe or my mind wasn't my own any more..." He shook his head as if to refresh his memory and Snape tutted and gently pulled his head back so he could carry on with the salve. "He said he could make it hurt so much I'd go to him begging for death. He's still not human but he's that something, like when I had that vision in the summer."

Snape clumsily cleaned the salve from his hands before crouching in front of Harry to meet his eyes. "He doesn't know that you are being tutored in occlumency, nor does he know that I am protecting you. We have far more information on our side. I assume he was thrilled to have been able to break into your mind after all this time and was trying to frighten you."

"Yeah, well I suppose we already knew he was going to try to kill me so it's no big deal then," Harry said, trying to shrug normally but instead ending up giving a jerky shoulder twitch.

"Don't be ridiculous. When you have mastered occlumency this will not happen again and you are making progress."

"Not good progress," Harry muttered, shutting his eyes for a moment.

"Adult wizards cannot pick up this skill with any amount of ease. I have never said that this process will be quick. You can throw off the imperius curse; if you apply yourself you should be able to occlude successfully." Harry didn't reply. It was much easier to just lie back and rest his eyes. "Don't go to sleep. Sit up, Harry."

"You made my head numb and I'm tired." And his eyes stung.

"You cannot sleep now; you need to be occluding. Look at me and open your eyes. If you go to sleep now your mind will be ridiculously easy to break into. Do you imagine that the Dark Lord doesn't have unlimited time to torture you if he so wishes?" Snape scathed.

"I'm trying to bloody occlude. It's easier with my eyes shut," Harry yelled back at Snape, then regretted it when his head began to pound and his stupid eyes began to water. "Damn," he muttered, swiping angrily at his cheeks and looking away.

He therefore missed Snape swiftly move to stand and reach down, pulling Harry roughly to his feet with one hand and then gripping him in a slightly less crushing hug than the one he'd woken up in. "The Dark Lord will not get you, not in this tournament and not through your scar," he said gruffly.

Harry's initial embarrassment wore off in the shock of Snape actually initiating a hug but then inexplicably his eyes began to water even more. He tried to breathe normally in case Snape thought he was about to start bawling or something. "Relax, you stupid boy," Snape muttered above him, one of his hands beginning to rub his back gently and Harry let himself collapse against Snape. Snape was actually quite good at this, Harry decided, even if he was probably too old to need to be held.

Harry noted the lifeless hand hanging from the arm that Snape had around his shoulders. "What's wrong with your hand?" he asked quietly, wondering if Snape was going to jump away again, now that he'd spoken.

"It's numb. Someone wouldn't let me put salve on his scar earlier," he replied, holding on for a second longer and then leading Harry to sit back down on the couch.

"Make sure you're occluding and then lie to me," Snape instructed, crouching down once again to keep eye contact.

"Lie... Malfoy's my best friend, Moaning Myrtle's a right laugh, I like potions."

"You need to keep that level up this evening until you go to bed," Snape declared, wincing slightly as he stood up once more. He looked thoughtful for a moment, crossing his arms and regarding Harry as if he was a complex potions problem. "You don't particularly care for chess," he stated.

Harry shook his head, too exhausted to care that Snape was asking odd questions. "Do not go to sleep," Snape repeated before disappearing into his own room. Harry blinked slowly. He wasn't sure if Snape had been gone for five minutes or for just a few seconds but he was sat beside him now opening a small box.

"What's that?"

"A muggle game." He showed Harry the contents of the box, small colourful pieces rattling loose. "You don't recognise it?"

Harry shook his head and Snape pulled a little board full of holes out and a handful of coloured pegs. "This is a code breaking game. One person chooses the sequence of coloured pegs and the other tries to guess it." He then proceeded to explain how you use the other little pegs to show the other person how many pegs they guessed correctly.

"Why do have a muggle game?" 

"Another gift from the headmaster. They aren't all as bad as your pyjama top," Snape explained, referring to the bright yellow top he'd given Harry a few weeks previous.

"Yeah, I can see you liking something like this," Harry nodded, pulling his legs up onto the sofa and scooting closer to Snape and the little game so that he could see it better.

"Mm. Well, we can play it once you've put your pyjamas on."

"I thought you didn't want me to fall asleep."

"And yet somehow I know that you're going to do it anyway. Go, now, you'll be easier to put to bed later if you're already ready for bed."

"I'm fourteen. I don't need to be put to bed!" Harry replied, indignant.

"Bearing in mind how often you remind me I'm not likely to forget how old you are and it'll hardly be the first time I've put you to bed. Now, Harry."

Harry got up and padded tiredly over to his room with a grumble of annoyance, returning in the same set of pyjamas he'd been given on his first night back in Snape's quarters.

"Remind me to order you another set of pyjamas. I'd forgotten you didn't have any of your own here."

"I'll just wear these," Harry replied easily, pulling the little board towards him. "Don't look then," he said, picking out four little coloured pegs.

"I didn't think you'd want to wear second hand considering your wardrobe growing up."

"These are comfy. It's a bit cold though, maybe a dressing gown would be good," he said, pulling his arms into his t-shirt to keep warm.

"A dressing gown it is. This one, Mr. Potter, is mine, but you can have it for tonight." He summoned a heavy grey robe from his own room and let it drop on Harry's head. "Don't get too comfy in it," he said as Harry bundled himself up and he made his first guess on the board.

 

S.S.

Severus stared thoughtfully at Harry, at his scar in particular. Why should Harry's scar be any different from any other curse scar? Even if it's the only one caused by the Avada Kedavra curse it should be responsive in some way to standard curse scar potions.

His symptoms, of course, were particular to the effects of this curse and not curse scars in general. After all, there is no other curse that leaves the user with a link back to the caster; there are many that cause a good deal of pain but none at the whim of another wizard...

"I said I wouldn't do it," Harry burst out suddenly, interrupting his train of thought just as he had a flash of inspiration. "I'll let you look after my Firebolt during the first task if you don't believe me."

"I know you won't do it. I specifically forbade it this afternoon," Severus replied, a hint of anger creeping back into his voice. He'd been startled during their occlumency session that evening to find that Harry had spent a good deal of the last week practising the fifth-year summoning spell. He'd then been livid to discover it was all because Moody had somehow gotten it into his head that he ought to fly unprotected straight into a dragon's nest!

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you Professor Moody had brought up the tournament, but you went a bit mental when I mentioned the imperius lesson, so I just figured I'd better not say anything."

"Excuse me?" Severus replied, his voice glacial. "I did not 'go mental'. My anger was not disproportionate to the crime he committed. Why are we discussing this again?" 

"You've been glaring at me for half an hour. I can't concentrate," Harry replied, waving his book as if to show him the evidence.

"I wasn't aware that you needed a great deal of concentration to peruse Quidditch Through the Ages for the umpteenth time," he said, rolling his eyes. "I wasn't glaring at you; I was considering the issue with your scar."

"Oh. What about my scar?"

Severus leaned back in his seat and regarded Harry thoughtfully once more. "The only way I can imagine that your scar is truly different from any other curse scar is that there seems to be a link between yourself and the caster. There may be a chance that by personalising the standard potion to you it would have some effect."

"Personalising it? Do you mean by putting bits of me in it, like polyjuice potion?"

"Yes, blood would be preferable."

"Because it's more powerful than hair or nails?"

"Exactly. I could try using hair or saliva to begin with but if it works it would have a lesser effect and I want these attacks stopped as soon as possible."

"Okay, then. When are we doing it?"

"I'm asking for your blood, so you need to consider the matter. Potions requiring blood are usually classified as dark, although that's rather a generalisation considering the purpose of this particular potion. I shouldn't need to point out that it would be disastrous if the potion fell into the wrong hands and you need to be sure that you're happy that I will be safeguarding and administering it."

"I'm still okay with it," he answered, shrugging easily. "I'm getting an apple, want one?" he asked, wandering off into the kitchen so that Severus had to raise his voice.

"No, I want you to think about whether you're comfortable supplying your blood for this potion. There is significant risk involved. Come back here!"

"I was listening. You said you think it'll work on my scar and you're going to be the one making the potion and looking after it, so I think it's a good idea," Harry replied, dropping back onto the sofa and munching happily on his apple as if he had no awareness of the seriousness of such a request. "Is this a test? Am I supposed to say no? I'd say no if it wasn't you asking. I'm not an idiot."

"I would hardly give you false hope about your potion, and I'd damn well hope you'd say no to anyone else."

"So, when are we going to do it?" Harry asked again, biting noisily into his apple.

"Your blood will need to be added during the potion-making process so I'll organise a detention when I've begun to brew it."

Severus set his ink and parchment aside. The top sheet was covered in so much scathing red scrawl that it was hard to make out the essay beneath. He heaved a sigh, downed a potion in a single gulp to relieve the headache that was beginning to form and set to work planning Harry's newest potion.

Some time later Harry caught his eye and offered a wave, departing for his own room. Severus sat long into the night accompanied by the scratching of quill on parchment and the fire burning low in the grate.

H.P.

Harry wasn't exactly brimming with joy over being entered in the tournament but ever since Snape had told him about the prophecy it seemed to put things into perspective. A great big dragon wasn't going to kill him, Voldemort would.

It was weird that Snape didn't share his view on the subject. He really appreciated that Snape was looking out for him and he did want to get out of the tournament, especially if it was some plan cooked up by Voldemort. But he knew now that he wasn't really going to get killed by a dragon and he assumed Snape knew that too.

Plus, Snape seemed to have forgotten all about the other dangerous things he'd already done. He saw him as some incompetent loose cannon that was one step away from getting himself killed by throwing himself into danger and that wasn't what he was doing at all.

So, he'd practised summoning spells with Hermione for a few days... Professor Moody had a point; he should play to his strengths and flying was one of them. Snape's idea was all well and good but disillusionment charms were really advanced and he wasn't any good at diversionary tactics. He was more of a 'face things head on' sort of person. He'd promised to do it Snape's way if it came to it, and he had every intention of keeping his promise, but it was good to have a back up plan, wasn't it? It was nothing to go spare over. If there'd been another Hogsmeade weekend coming up Snape would have tried to ban him from it again. He had that look in his eye.

"Harry?" Hermione said, waving a hand in front of his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Did you want to practice summoning again tonight?"

"Just for a bit, then we'll do something else."

It was his choice what he practised after all, and so what if Snape saw it during occlumency? He could probably say it was a memory from the week before, anyway.

"Oh, you did something!" Hermione all but squealed when the vial he'd been attempting to summon for the best part of an hour tipped onto the floor and shattered.

"It just fell off the table."

"Not by itself. You must be getting the hang of it," Hermione said smiling, possibly in sheer relief that they were finally getting somewhere. "It's a fifth-year spell, so it's no wonder you're finding it hard, but we've got time."

"I know, plenty of time," he agreed out loud. The anxious part of him was quick to remind him that, actually, a week was not plenty of time.

And that week for Harry melted away faster than Neville's desk in potions. And while he was sure everything wasn't going to end in disaster, he did know that it may well end in humiliation and a pitiful display of magic on his part. Every time he thought about the first task he felt dread settle over him. He woke up in a cold sweat dreaming of fierce dragon eyes and silent spectators.

Ron had been steadfastly ignoring him as the days sped by and as the tournament loomed ever closer his resentment was more and more obvious.

"If you want to talk to him then go over there. You two are being ridiculous," Hermione insisted yet again.

"I didn't say I wanted to talk to him."

"Then I don't know why you want to sit there staring at him; he's practically got food falling out of his mouth."

Harry sniggered and shook his head. In truth, part of him was tempted to talk to him. Sure, Ron was completely in the wrong but he'd forgiven Snape when he'd messed up and Ron had been his friend for a damn sight longer than Snape had been his anything. The other part of him was still too angry to try to talk him round again. Ron should know he didn't want this. Ron was supposed to be the kind of friend he could share the prophecy with, Dumbledore evidently thought so, but he was too busy being jealous of Harry, and for what?

"I wasn't staring; I was trying to summon the salt."

"Whoa, Neville! What happened to you?" Seamus called from beside Dean as Neville joined them at the dinner table. The exhausted and trembling Gryffindor fell into his seat opposite Harry with a thunk.

"Detention with Snape," he groaned. "Harry, I'm really sorry but he said you have detention too!"

"Really?" Harry almost scoffed. Snape hadn't held him back after class so he'd assumed he wasn't ready to make the potion he'd mentioned. He must have been really angry over Neville's latest performance in potions to use him to give Harry a detention.

"What for?" Hermione asked indignantly.

"It's all my fault. He was yelling at me for melting the table and his equipment and I told him that me and Harry had saved some of those glass stirring rods we were using and then he said that two were missing and if I hadn't stolen them then Harry must have."

"Now he's just making reasons up to pick on you! You didn't steal anything, why would you?" Hermione exclaimed.

"That's Snape isn't it? It's not your fault, Neville. He's been in a foul mood lately."

"He has been. I wonder why."

"It could be anything, couldn't it?" Harry said dismissively and shrugged. If only it was as easy to shrug off the guilt. Of course Snape was in a foul mood; he was just as exhausted as Harry was. When he wasn't marking students' essays or planning lessons he was working with Harry or brewing for Harry or researching to get Harry out of the tournament. The man hadn't stopped in the last few weeks.

"Maybe it's important... Have you written to, you know, recently?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.

"I'm not writing to him about Snape," he hissed back, looking at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Why not?"

Harry gaped for a moment, his mind blank. "I don't want to worry him. he's already worried about the tournament now that it's so close." He was absurdly proud of himself for that clever deception when Hermione bought it and admonished him for being silly.

"That's what adults do. They worry about you, so you don't have to."

---

S.S.

"It's a quick cut. I'll numb the skin and then make a small incision here," Severus explained, indicating with his wand. "When enough blood is in the potion, I'll heal you."

"How long before it's ready?" Harry asked, peering into the unusually small cauldron and then rearing back with a grimace.

"Yuck, that stinks. It's horrible!"

"A masterful analysis of this particular brew, Mr. Potter. To answer your question, it's more effective the longer it simmers. If you should need it, then it'll be effective from this evening. Up," he said, gesturing sharply at the counter.

"I can stand up – it's just a cut."

"Sit on the counter," Severus snapped, pulling a small knife from a drawer in his desk.

"I'm just saying I can take a little cut," Harry responded with a huff, but he did what he was told all the same.

"I'm certain you could take it without the numbing salve but I would hardly ask that of you."

Harry didn't have a smart retort for that so Severus began the preparations in silence. It was crucial to be absolutely precise. There was a window of only a few minutes to add the blood to this particular potion, otherwise it would be just as useless to the child as all the others he'd given him.

"Do you think I'll be ready in time for the first task?" Harry asked suddenly.

Severus paused as he applied the numbing salve to Harry's arm and met his eyes. "I think that no matter what happens you won't come to harm. I'll see to that, make no mistake."

"I know," Harry replied, nodding seriously. "That's the same place the basilisk fang went in my arm," he said, watching intently as Severus positioned the knife. The Potions Master hesitated slightly, withdrawing the blade.

"Would you prefer to switch arms?"

"No, I was just saying," Harry said easily.

He marvelled at how much Harry trusted him, to unquestioningly put his faith in him was a massive step considering the antagonism between the two of them just a few months before.

Harry stayed silent, watching the procedure with interest, undoubtedly recognising that he'd prefer to have no distractions. Rivulets of blood began to spill immediately after he made the cut and he held Harry's arm firmly in place to make certain enough would run into the cauldron.

Harry frowned as Severus's grip tightened minutely and he let out an exhale of irritation as his wards indicated he had visitors, and discourteous ones at that. Black's sense of unfortunate timing and appalling manners were in play this afternoon. Now of all times, he did not need to be interrupted.

"Brace yourself for an over-reaction. Your godfather and the headmaster have flooed through. Do not move and let me heal you when I'm finished."

And sure enough, not ten seconds later. "What the hell's going on here!" came a bellow from the lab door. Severus reached out to Harry's shoulder to steady him as instinct had him flinching at the noise.

"Sirius, hey!"

How the child could still be so excited to see that waste of space was beyond his comprehension.

"I need a moment, headmaster," Severus called, hoping trust would win out over confusion. It wasn't lost on him that it did look an awful lot like he was slicing up the child and using him for potions, and much as he threatened to do it to some of the dunderheads he taught, it most likely wasn't something either the headmaster or Black assumed they'd witness.

"GET OFF of my godson!" – "Sirius it's fine!" – "Sit still," were yelled simultaneously until the headmaster called for calm.

"He's bleeding Harry into a cauldron! I was right all along that he's using dark arts. I said not to trust him," Black roared, undoubtedly being restrained by the headmaster.

"He's not," Harry called out again, but managed not to move, agitated as he was. A few more drops and it would be enough.

"He's obviously brainwashed him."

Severus snorted at that, pulling Harry's arm quickly towards him and healing the cut.

"Wow. Can you teach me that?" Harry asked, staring down at his unmarked arm and tracing where the cut had been with his finger.

"When you have less on your plate. Go see your godfather while I finish with this," he ordered, giving him a push off the counter and moving to attend to the potion.

"Sirius! SIRIUS! It's fine. Look, I'm fine," Harry shouted, trying to get his godfather's attention.

"I'm not worried that you can't be healed, Harry. I want to know what he was doing to you." Without waiting for an answer he continued. "Is that how you got him to agree to live with you, Snape? Using dark arts?"

"Yes, I've always found cutting children and using their blood in potions puts them at ease in my presence," Severus announced, turning finally to his guests.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that, which had Severus smirking and Sirius even more enraged.

"Enough. Severus, if you could perhaps explain what you were doing with young Mr. Potter..." the headmaster interrupted sternly.

Severus sighed, enjoying the rage in Black's expression, and drawled lazily. "All the potions I have given him during his attacks have been ineffective. Regular painkillers deal only with the secondary or after effects. I can think of no reason why Harry's scar should behave differently from any other curse scar other than the link to the caster. Its effects are personalised and so I considered that if we were to personalise the remedy then perhaps it would be effective. Hence the blood."

"Interesting idea. Harry was in agreement?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered himself.

"How do we know he's telling the truth?"

Harry scowled, obviously put out that his godfather wasn't willing to take on board his own reassurances.

"My faith in Severus is absolute. I'm sure in the interests of trust and cooperation he would be willing to let you inspect the potion yourself."

Severus indicated to Harry that he should show his godfather the potion while he remained to speak with the headmaster.

"It would have been wiser to inform me of the potion. If it were to fall into the wrong hands..."

"I had every intention of telling you I'd made it. It's a single dose and it will remain with me. It would have been wiser if fewer people knew of it." He threw a dark glare in Black's direction. "This is my home, headmaster, and I've made it clear how I feel about Black."

"You've also made it clear that you consider this to be Harry's home too and his godfather requested to see him before the first task. I'd rather hoped that he would come here to find Harry at ease and would begin to place a little more faith in this arrangement," he explained with a touch of regret.

"If you'd warned me in advance..."

H.P.

"How often does he do this to you?" Sirius muttered in a low voice.

"This once and he asked me if I was okay with it beforehand. I really need this potion," Harry huffed. He loved Sirius but he never listened, not when it came to Snape, and he was getting tired of all the arguments, and of Sirius constantly badmouthing Snape.

"I know you need something to stop the pain, but the dark arts..." Sirius shook his head. "I don't trust that this is for what he's saying."

"I do. He's the one who said I shouldn't have to compete in the tournament and he's the one who's been helping me practice for it in case they can't pull me out and he's been teaching me occlumency, so hopefully I won't need that potion, but he keeps trying to make better ones just in case I do."

"You have no idea what he's like. I saw him grow up, and I know the man he turned into."

"That was years ago."

"And until now, what was he like? Sweetness and light?"

"No! I know he's not perfect, or even nice, and he was horrible to me for years but he's not now."

"One minute he hates you, then he has the chance to have you in his dungeons with no supervision and all of a sudden he cares about you? I don't buy it," he announced, shaking his head.

"Why not?" He winced at how hurt his voice sounded.

Suddenly a hand gripped his shoulder and for a moment he had the irrational feeling that he was in trouble, but when he turned to see Snape's furious expression his black eyes were fixed on Sirius. "He believes that I am incapable of that particular emotion and that I am using you for my own or the Dark Lord's ends," he answered. "Wait in the living room for your godfather. He'll be out in a moment."

Harry opened his mouth to object but Snape fixed his stern gaze on him and he knew it would be pointless to argue. He just hoped Dumbledore could stop them from duelling right there in the lab.

S.S.

"What did you just say to him? Did you just tell my– ward that you cannot believe someone might come to care for him?" Severus thundered, and for a moment Black actually backed away.

"No, I said I didn't believe you could. I don't know what your game is but I'm not going to let you get away with it."

"What are you going to do, Black? Other than come into my home and continue to alienate your godson."

"I'm trying to protect him!"

"You've done nothing to protect him. You do nothing for the boy but provide him brief entertainment."

"This has gone on for long enough," the headmaster interjected. "You will both be on the same side in the war that is to come and if the pair of you wish Mr. Potter to be happy then an attitude adjustment is in order."

Severus sneered.

"Sirius, Harry has heard your views on Severus' loyalty and motivations enough, as have I. Severus, cease this taunting and allow Sirius time with Harry. I do not want to have to mediate every meeting between you and neither does Remus."

"I have allowed him to see Harry. I have abandoned my home for him and the wolf to see the boy."

"He should be living with me. James wouldn't be able to bear it if he knew what was going on."

"He's dead, so it hardly matters what he'd be able to bear," Severus returned coldly.

That last taunt must have been more than Black could tolerate because he gave a strangled shout and pulled out his wand. "I'll see him taken away from you if it's the last thing I do."

"Have you abandoned what pitiful wit you had left? He doesn't want to leave, and if you cause him any more stress than he's already under, I'll protect him from you, Black, and I'll go to any lengths to protect him. Try me."

"He doesn't need protecting from me. Albus, this is madness."

"Your acceptance of this situation is long overdue." The headmaster looked pointedly at the wand he was brandishing. "I suggest you seek your reassurances directly from Harry and accept his word on the matter. Let this issue finally be put to rest."

"Black," Severus called before he reached the door. "Do not even think to intimate that I do not care about that child to his face."

"Or what?" he mocked.

"You'll hurt him."

"That man is a fool," he commented to the headmaster as the door clicked shut behind Black.

H.P.

"You guys are done talking about me then."

"Just about," Sirius replied, taking a seat on the couch beside him. "This isn't easy for me, seeing you living with Snape."

"I know you don't like him."

"No, I don't, but that's not why I can't stand this. I'm worried about you, all the time. I'm worried that whatever happened with your relatives has made you scared to say that you don't want to stay with Snape or maybe there's some other reason I can't even think of that you don't want to speak up." He held up a hand to say he wasn't finished when Harry made to respond.

"But besides all that I can't believe he knows how to look after you the way you should be looked after. The way he grew up, surrounded by the dark arts... He was a Death Eater, so how could I not think this is a terrible environment for you to grow up in?"

Harry groaned. He'd reassured his godfather countless times already. "I like living with Snape. I'm not lying or scared of him."

"But why?"

Harry took a moment to think. It wasn't easy to put into words why it wasn't a mad idea to want Snape to be his guardian. "Because he looks after me and he doesn't have to. He buys me things and makes dinner and then makes sure I eat it even if he's angry. He does things that Ron's parents do for him and he doesn't have to."

"Harry, anyone would look after you if you lived with them. You don't owe him."

"No one else wants me to live with them!"

"I'd take you in a second and Remus would," Sirius declared fiercely.

"But you can't and Snape can, and he's really good at looking after me. He's not perfect, but you've seen him with me when I have problems with my scar."

"He does that for you even when no one's around?"

"He's nicer when no one's there. I reckon he doesn't want you to know he can be all right," Harry grinned.

"I'm not going to believe he's secretly a great guy."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying he's more relaxed when he's not with you. I want to carry on living with Snape and I want him to be my guardian and I want you to stop trying to ruin this for me. Please, Sirius."

"I've got no choice now. I just can't imagine... I just want you to be safe."

"Snape's trying to make sure I'm safe. You two can talk about that," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I might have overreacted when I saw he'd cut you." Sirius sighed and Harry smiled to show him he wasn't angry about it.

"I think he expected you too. He told me when you flooed in. I know it looked bad but you should trust me. I know what I'm doing."

He nodded. "I'm going to try harder to be okay with this. I'll believe you're happy, but I don't know if I can believe he's what's best for you."

"Don't say that, not to him," Harry begged, not wanting Snape to go back to distancing himself 'for his own good'. "But maybe if you were more okay with this Snape would let you come see me more often."

"I didn't actually come here to argue about Snape. I wanted to see you before the big tournament; it's only a few days away now." Sirius said, visibly brightening at the change of topic.

"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed, failing to match his enthusiasm. "Are you going to come?"

"No, Albus doesn't think that's a good idea."

"I guess not. I don't want you to get caught."

"So, are you ready for it?"

"I think so."

"You're going to do great; James would be proud of you." Sirius' eyes filled with such warmth at the mention of his father that Harry's heart dropped.

"Even if I mess up?"

"You won't mess up, but yeah. He'd be proud you went out there and faced it down." That had his heart dropping to his toes.

"What if I don't do it?"

"Then he'd be relieved you didn't face down a dragon," Sirius laughed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, of course."

---

"Is Professor Lupin coming tomorrow?" Neville asked the following morning as he flipped open the 'good luck' card his godfather had sent. It was a nice thought. He didn't write much in it but he'd said it all the day before.

"No. I don't think families are coming anyway. No one's mentioned anything about it," he replied, shoving the card into his bag and refocusing on breakfast.

"Yeah, I suppose I wouldn't want my gran there if I was a champion. You've got all of the Gryffindors though, we'll be cheering for you."

Whatever happened tomorrow he was beginning to think someone was going to be angry or disappointed in him. Most of all though, he just didn't want to embarrass himself with the entire school watching. "That just makes it worse. If it all goes wrong, at least if everyone was mad at me then it wouldn't matter."

"Yeah and I suppose everyone thinks you're going to be great because of all the stuff you've done already."

"This isn't making me feel better."

"A task in the triwizard tournament isn't the worst thing you could fail at and I know all about failing."

"Perspective, got it," Harry replied with a nervous grin.

He wanted the day to go slow, for every lesson to be History of Magic with Professor Binns, but the more he wished for the minutes to lengthen, the more they seemed to drain away, until suddenly he was saying goodbye to Hermione and passing through the headmaster's office to spend his last evening before the task cramming in more spell practice with Snape.

S.S.

"Enough. It's as good as it's going to get," Severus announced after Harry had thoroughly exhausted himself that evening.

"That gives me loads of confidence," he grumbled.

"It's not perfect but it will suffice. No, no occlumency tonight," he said as Harry moved to stand in his eye-line. "It's your last night at home and you won't manage well tomorrow if you're over-tired."

Harry nodded gratefully and sank back into the couch as Severus waved his wand and the room became tidy once more. He let out a muttered oath as one of his preferred paintings only partially reassembled itself. The ominous effect was rather marred by the blank patch of canvas showing through. Harry stood and the last pieces zoomed into place from underneath his feet.

"How come you don't have any pictures? I don't think you have any at home either. The other house," Harry corrected himself, coming to stand beside him.

"You can call it home, I just cannot imagine..." Severus trailed off and shook his head. "I prefer to think of these quarters as home. I assume you mean photographs and not paintings."

"Yeah, you don't have any, not even of you."

"I don't own a camera," Severus replied.

"What about when you want to remember something? Don't you have pictures people took of you?" Harry asked, seeming disappointed.

"Who do you imagine is taking these pictures?" Severus replied, shaking his head in exasperation.

"You don't have anything you want to take a picture of?" Harry persisted.

"I'm no photographer. Professionals take far better pictures than I could. I tend to buy a postcard."

"So you have postcards of places you've been?" What was the child getting at? "Where do you go?" he asked, continuing the barrage of questions.

"Fishing for a holiday, are we?" Severus remarked wryly.

Harry laughed. "No, I just wondered what you used to do before I came along."

"Just wait," he said, giving into Harry's curiosity. He returned with an old cardboard box full of postcards that he'd collected over the years, placing it in the centre of the kitchen table.

"Wow, there's loads," Harry said, kneeling oddly on his chair to spread the pictures over the surface. "Is this Italy?" Harry asked, holding one up for Severus to see.

"Geography obviously isn't your forté," he replied and Harry frowned, staring down at the picture then shrugged.

"That's a no then. You should put where it is... Oh wait, it says on the back. Well, you should still put the date on it so you know when you went."

"I know when I went to Athens; you don't know when I went to Athens," he remarked, pulling Harry back to sit properly on his seat.

"When did you go to Athens?" Harry countered, waving the postcard again.

"Write the dates on them," he ordered, sending a quill and ink to drop down in front of Harry. "Athens... that was four summers ago now," he said, frowning as he tried to remember. He charmed a knife to cut a loaf of bread and leaned against the sideboard watching Harry sift through the pictures.

"Where were you going to go before you got stuck looking after me?"

"I didn't get stuck with you," he countered. "And I hadn't made any concrete plans at that point."

"Fine, but where do you think you'd have gone?"

"No further than Europe," he answered, moving to sort through the cards himself.

"I've never been abroad. I always had to stay with Mrs Figg when the Dursleys went away."

He scowled and wished he was at liberty to exact some real justice on behalf of the child. "No wonder your geography is so dismal."

"It was one picture!"

"Perhaps I should commit to rectifying your woeful lack of knowledge in the holidays."

"I don't need more lessons, thanks."

"I meant I'll take you on a trip. There's no use shutting you up for the holidays and it may well be safer abroad depending where we go."

Harry gave him an odd look but settled for choosing another postcard.

"Barcelona, summer before last." He settled himself on the opposite side of the kitchen table, making room for the toast amongst the mess of cards.

Harry had no end of questions for Severus and seemed utterly absorbed in the task. Nevertheless, he interrupted Harry's questions to ask one of his own. "Have you spoken with your friends regarding the prophecy?"

"No." He raised his eyebrows when Harry didn't elaborate, which earned him a heavy sigh. "I'm waiting for Ron."

"Ah, the ever mature Mr. Weasley."

"He's been my best friend since I was eleven. We'll get back to normal soon."

"True as that may be, whether or not you speak to your friends, you are aware that you can discuss it with me?"

"I know, but one thing at a time. Tournament first."

"Indeed. Off to bed with you then," he said with a smirk. "If you need to do this task you'll do it with a clear head and a good night's rest."

"Could I have some dreamless sleep then?" 

"Certainly." He handed the small vial over but stopped Harry leaving, taking him by the shoulders. "You will be fine."

H.P.

This was it. The Gryffindors cheered him when he appeared in the common room and by the time he got to breakfast it had definitely gotten old. What if he did get out of the tournament and they were mad at him for giving up? The Gryffindors were the only people left on his side – all the other houses were mad at him for stealing Cedric's thunder. As if he wanted even more attention.

"Oh, Harry, good luck," Hermione cried, wringing her hands anxiously. She looked almost as bad as he felt. Surely it would be wrong not to say anything, to give her some sort of clue that everything would be all right. Well, would probably be all right.

"You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worried," she denied shrilly. "And you shouldn't be worried either. There's bound to be all sorts of protective spells and Professor Dumbledore won't let anything happen to you," Hermione babbled in what she probably thought was a reassuring tone.

He bit his lip and darted a look over to McGonagall who was waiting at the end of the table. "Look, there might be no reason to worry at all. I'm not supposed to say anything, even to you, but... if there was any opportunity to get out of being a champion I would take it. Could you tell Ron that?"

"Why would you not be allowed to say...?"

"Tell Ron that if I could get out of this I would choose to. Tell him before it starts," he said urgently, backing further away from his seat towards McGonagall.

"Harry? Is something going to happen? Aren't you competing?"

"If I have to compete then I'll compete. I have to go, but remember to tell him."

"Hold on, 'if'?" she called out.

S.S.

"There's no need to be quite so anxious, Severus," the headmaster said, keeping pace with his own long strides as he made his way to the stands outside the enclosure.

"I didn't realise I was being so obvious."

"He's an extraordinary young man. Whatever happens today there is no need for you to worry."

"I know what he's capable of."

"Harry will be called out first so that I can ascertain if he has to compete before the tournament is under way."

"I'll keep an eye on the crowd if you make the announcement. See who is unduly disappointed," he replied shortly.

"I truly wish you would try to calm down. He will be fine."

"There was a time when I would have valued your input on how to deal with my ward but if the best you have to offer me is meaningless drivel then I'd rather not hear it."

"You and I haven't agreed on a single decision to do with young Harry," he replied with a hint of surprise.

"Because you did not want me to have him!" he couldn't stop himself from snapping. "I would have hoped, had I any inkling of this situation occurring, that I could have counted on you for support if I took in a child."

"You have done admirably well."

"I haven't the faintest idea how you've come to that judgement. I could be no better to him than his relatives."

"I know that's not true. You, after all, care for him deeply."

"That doesn't stop me making mistakes."

H.P.

"So, off you go, Mr. Potter. Professor Dumbledore has asked that you step out first."

Bagman pulled the tent flap aside and Harry nodded dumbly. He was going to have to walk out there hoping for the best but knowing there was a good chance he was going to get melted by a dragon. Hell, forget being burned to a crisp; if he messed up Snape would go spare. He'd probably think it was some stunt he pulled just to get himself killed by an incredibly huge and angry dragon.

It was more nerve wracking than walking out for quidditch, that much was certain. It even seemed like there were more people looming down from the high stands, even though he knew there were only a handful of extra students from the other two schools. The dragon drew in a great heaving breath and let out a resounding roar, no doubt in protest to the crowd's shouts as Harry exited the tent.

"Just over this line here, Harry," came a familiar voice at his side and he realised he had walked right up to Dumbledore. "Are you ready?"

"To face a dragon? No, but it probably won't kill me."

"And if you could take a step back." Harry nodded and backed out, face screwed up, anticipating some sort of magical barrier or pull or whatever it was that would force him to compete. His foot hit it with a resounding crack that he was sure carried to the judges' seats, despite the thunderous breathing of the dragon.

"I can't." His eyes sought out Snape in the teacher's seats, slightly wide-eyed with panic. Why did he let himself believe he might be able to get out of this? He couldn't make out Snape's expression from that distance. He gulped and took a breath, his eyes scanning the crowd and then coming to rest on the dragon in front of him. "I should, uh, get on with it then."

He took a breath and stepped forward before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Just a moment. If I may try something?" Harry frowned and glanced up quickly, taking his eyes off of the huge beast before him. The headmaster chanted something in Latin, sweeping his wand over Harry and then in a wide arc. Nothing happened, nothing at all that Harry could make out.

"And now if you could try once more to take a step back," he asked quietly as the crowd began to murmur in confusion.

He stepped back slowly, expecting the crack that had resounded throughout the stadium moments before. When nothing came he took another step back just to be sure, then heaved out a huge sigh of relief.

"Thank you," Harry gasped.

"Not at all."

"Headmaster, headmistress, judges," Dumbledore's voice boomed out across the stadium, past the dragon and into the crowd. "I find Harry Potter not to be constrained by the binding magical contract of the Triwizard Tournament. In the interests of fairness and safety, Harry Potter is forbidden from competing."

Harry couldn't help it. His face split into a wide grin, especially when a lone figure began clapping into the stunned silence. Harry followed the sound to where Hermione stood in the stands and gave her a relieved wave.

---

"Did you know? Harry James Potter, you should have told me," Hermione scolded him the moment he arrived in the stands.

"I didn't know for definite," he replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Tough break Harry–" Dean yelled down from the row above.

"They should have let you have a crack at it," a sixth-year Gryffindor he didn't know piped up.

"Did you tell Ron?" Harry asked, looking around. He thought he'd seen him here with Hermione.

"Yes, of course. He was here a moment ago."

"Krum's out!" someone yelled at a deafening volume beside him and Hermione turned quickly back to watch.

"Harry! I've been looking for you," Ron exclaimed over a collective 'Oooooh' of appreciation.

"I came right up here."

"Right, yeah," Ron nodded uncomfortably. "Look, I've been a prat. I don't think you put yourself in for this." He waved his hand wildly as if to indicate the tournament and whacked Colin Creevey over the head.

"I've only been saying that since my name came out of the goblet. Are you sure you don't want everything to go back to normal just because I can't compete?" 

"No, I'm glad you can't compete because someone must have had it in for you, putting your name in the goblet like that," Ron replied seriously.

Harry grinned and shook his head. "I'm glad you came to your senses, mate."

They turned back to watch Krum, silence descending between them.

"What do you reckon? I'd give Krum a seven," Harry announced as Krum held up a golden egg in victory.

"I'd give him a five just to even out Karkaroff's marks. He's like Snape with the Slytherins. That's blatant bias!" Ron roared.

Hermione glanced between the two boys. "That's it?" she erupted after a moment.

"Yeah," Harry replied, sharing a look with Ron.

Hermione gaped before turning back to watch Fleur. "The pair of you are so utterly and completely impossible."

Harry gasped and groaned along with the crowd through every disastrous spell and every shot of flame from the nostrils of each dragon. His feeling of elation grew as the tournament continued and not a single eye was on him.

S.S.

"You told me there was no other way to get him out of the tournament," Severus accused, slowing to walk in pace with the headmaster back up to the castle.

He wasn't sure whether to be angry at the deception or grateful that he'd fulfilled his promise.

"There was no way to know it would work. It was a spot of luck and some rather clever spell work if I do say so myself."

"Bagman doesn't seem happy and Moody is still behaving oddly," he reported, letting the issue drop.

"I want Alastor here. If there is a threat I feel better having another ally in the castle."

"He's unhinged and that makes him a liability."

"He's unconventional and his paranoia is not entirely unfounded," the headmaster corrected him. "It is for the remainder of the year and a measure I'm taking for young Mr. Potter."

"Don't use Harry to manipulate me."

"Would you like a word with him? He has no reason to leave the tower for the remainder of term now that the tournament is over."

"Yes."

Severus slipped into a disused classroom before the flood of children returning to the castle reached the corridor. The headmaster lingered at the door for a moment. "Harry enjoys Christmas, perhaps ensure that he has a good one."

"Your advice is to let him spend Christmas with his godfather or have the Weasleys been asking for him again?"

"I meant let him celebrate the season. Let him have a tree and stockings and Christmas dinner."

"As if I would not."

"Then perhaps my input is unnecessary. You know what you're doing. The Weasleys are asking after him but I don't think he should be seen to be away from his relatives until after Christmas."

H.P.

"If I could have a word, Mr Potter," Professor Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling madly, reminding Harry more of that grandfatherly figure he'd appeared to be when he first arrived at Hogwarts.

Harry bade a quick goodbye to Ron and Hermione and followed him into a nearby classroom. Before he could ask what was going on he caught sight of Snape looking far more relaxed and smug than he'd seen him since term began.

"Sir! I got out of it," Harry exclaimed completely unnecessarily, grinning widely.

"I saw. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Well, you saw me come out. Mr Bagman said Professor Dumbledore asked for me to go first and straight away all I saw was that massive dragon. I almost didn't notice Professor Dumbledore..." Snape listened to his story with a peculiar look on his face. "So I stepped back but it was like I hit a wall. What?"

"Did I say anything? Continue." Harry got the odd feeling that he was being teased.

"Um, that was when Professor Dumbledore did the spell to get me out of it," he finished quickly, a little embarrassed to have been talking to Snape as if the headmaster hadn't been there.

"A little spell work, nothing terribly exciting. I amended the contract somewhat."

"I thought it was binding or permanent or something?" Harry interjected.

"The spell had already been tampered with. I assume that made it easier to alter," Snape suggested with a questioning glance at the headmaster.

"Yes, it certainly made a difference."

"Thank you, sir."

"You are quite welcome, Harry. Enjoy the rest of term," he said, before leaving the pair of them alone.

"Well done."

Harry blinked in confusion when he couldn't detect any sarcasm.

"I didn't do anything."

"I know and I couldn't be more impressed," Snape said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and again Harry had the strange feeling again that Snape was teasing him. "Occlumency is cancelled for the rest of term."

"Really? I'm still rubbish though."

"There is no believable excuse for you to be out of the tower in the evenings. Not only that but the Dark Lord will be sorely disappointed that whatever his plan was, he has been thwarted. He may well try to take it out on you. I see no reason to make you more vulnerable."

"Hold on, does this mean I'm not staying at yours any more?"

"Not for the rest of this term. It is only two weeks until Christmas, so there's no need to look so disappointed."

"I'm not," Harry replied indignantly. He cleared his throat awkwardly not wanting to leave without saying anything. "Thanks for looking out for me though."

"Go," Snape replied, waving away his thanks. "If you notice anyone behaving unusually, tell me. And stay with your friends; don't wander off alone."

He waved his goodbye and slipped back out into the crowd, a fully fledged smile emerging. It was funny how in just one day everything felt like it was coming together again.

"Lucky escape, Potter," Malfoy sneered and Harry whipped round to see him standing, uncharacteristically alone, amongst the milling students.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he muttered, looking over the banister and spotting Ron and Hermione waiting amongst a gaggle of Gryffindors on the floor below. He was in such a good mood that not even he could ruin it. There was nothing he could say that could burst the little bubble of contentment that he could feel welling up inside. He managed to put one foot on the stair when Malfoy spoke once more.

"Luck won't always be on your side. Inciampare."

"Wha–" His question was cut short as the wind was knocked out of him and he tipped forward. He met the stairs once, twice with a resounding crack and a third time with slam. His vision faded to black with the screams and shouts of the surrounding students echoing in his ears and through the hall.

 

S.S.

Screaming erupted in the corridor and Severus hurtled out of the classroom and into the throng of students converging on the main staircase.

"Move," he growled, drawing his wand as he shoved a huddle of Hufflepuffs aside. It was impossible that the Dark Lord could already know that Harry had been pulled from the tournament. Whatever disaster was ensuing was hopefully nothing more than Weasley-related mayhem.

"What's going on?"

"I can't see anything!"

"Who fell?" a tip-toeing first year asked her neighbour.

Fell? A grim sense of foreboding stole over him as he shouldered through yet more students to get to the front of the crowd.

A body lay across the stairs. His blood ran cold as he took in the shattered pair of glasses next to the mop of messy black hair, slick with the red of his own blood. 

They killed his son! He'd murder them. He'd make sure they felt every minute of the pain, the agony, that was tearing through him.

"Who did this?" he snarled, grabbing the nearest student by the collar. "Who did this?" he repeated, shaking them roughly when all he got was a panicked, blank stare. Forget unforgivables, he knew far more creative curses that could make a man beg for the simple, bloodless pain of the cruciatus curse.

A thunderclap rent the air.

"Professor Snape, apprehend Mr. Malfoy, if you would." Minerva's wand remained high as the crowd fell silent, smoke still twirling from the thunder she had sent roaring out of its tip. Filius crouched next to the boy amidst the pool of red, his wand moving rapidly. "Poppy! Quickly!" Minerva said, anxiety leaking into her own voice.

Poppy? He lived? His steps faltered as he strode toward the quaking Slytherin. Harry needed him a good deal more than he needed to sate his own bloodlust. Severus managed only a jerk towards Harry before almost toppling over his own feet. He was stopped from tearing down the stairs by a spell sticking his feet firmly in place.

"Prefects, lead your houses to their dormitories," the headmaster intoned appearing amongst the multitude, his face severe and his eyes no longer sparkling. "Severus, accompany Mr. Potter to the hospital wing," he ordered, releasing the spell.

He heard nothing more as he tore down the steps, shoving Filius aside to assist Poppy to lift the broken boy from the stairs and onto a conjured stretcher.

"Heal him here," he demanded. He'd hit his head hard enough to crack his skull. If he wasn't dead now, he could be at any moment.

"Stop the bleeding from his arm," she ordered briskly in return, turning her attention to his skull. He let out a shaky exhale when it became clear that the blood wasn't coming from a head wound at all but a startlingly gruesome injury to his upper arm.

"Blood replenisher, bone firming balm and bruise balm, the strongest one you have, otherwise this boy will be in a great deal of pain when he wakes up," she continued, her wand hovering for a long moment over Harry's head.

"You cannot think to heal his arm with balm."

"I'll fix his arm once we've reached the hospital wing. I've healed his skull and assessed his internal damage; his condition isn't critical now." Severus had a hard time believing that as he gazed upon Harry's lifeless form. Blood matted his hair and left a brilliant streak across his face. If she had no intention of completing his treatment until they reached the hospital wing then he would waste no time in getting him there.

"TO YOUR DORMITORIES," he roared as milling students, gawking and slowing to catch sight of Harry's broken body, slowed their journey.

What if she missed something? Would it be possible for him to have suffered brain damage from a blow that hard? He was itching to perform his own scans, his mind supplying the details of gruesome and dangerous complications that could arise from Harry's injuries. More than once, Poppy snapped at him to step away and let her work.

"You're certain that there's no damage to the tissue–"

"Severus Snape, if you do not stop harassing me I'll send you outside. I don't care what Albus has to say about it."

Severus gritted his teeth and stepped back but he watched her work intently, his eyes not leaving Harry for a moment. The longer she worked, the calmer he felt, until finally Harry was breathing easily, asleep on the hospital bed, not a trace of blood left on him, just smears on his arms and face where Madam Pomfrey had applied the balms needed for him to recover fully.

Now all he had to do was trust that he would be well when he awoke. Part of him knew that he would be, muggle injuries were a simple matter to heal as long as they were caught in time, but his worry would not ease until he could see for himself, until there was no question at all.

---

H.P.

The fuzziness when he opened his eyes didn't unsettle him in the slightest. In fact, before he was woken up by the clatter of heels on wooden flooring, he had the vague sense that he'd slept a deeper and easier sleep than he had in a long time. What did unsettle him was Madam Pomfrey looming over him. "Awake at last, Mr. Potter. Are you in any pain?" She waved her wand over him as he blinked himself fully awake.

"No, don't think so, 'm just tired," he mumbled. Why was he in the hospital wing? Had something happened with the dragon? No... He never fought a dragon, Dumbledore had pulled him from the tournament.

The last thing he remembered was talking to Snape and then he'd seen Malfoy and ah. Malfoy shouldn't have been able to get the best of him; he'd let his guard down. 

"You would be, a cracked skull and numerous broken bones besides will not go unnoticed," she said with stern disapproval. "You're healed but it's been quite a drain on your system, so you need rest. Professor Snape has been asked to stay here with you until this has been sorted out." Harry jumped when he looked around and noticed him standing beside the bed, just out of his eye line. The look Madam Pomfrey gave Snape made it seem like she disapproved of his presence, making Harry wonder if everyone found Snape just as awful as he used to. "I'll be in my office if you need anything," she reassured him, sending a last, doubtful look at Snape.

Once Madam Pomfrey disappeared behind the curtain surrounding his bed he made to speak but Snape held his finger to his lips to indicate silence. He waved his wand then settled into the chair beside his bed.

"How bad was it?" he whispered once Snape indicated it was safe for him to talk.

"Madam Pomfrey is a remarkable medi-witch. You're certain that you're not in any pain?" Snape spoke in his normal tone of voice so Harry assumed he'd warded the curtains around his bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, giving his limbs a bit of a shake to see if it hurt to move them.

"Occlude. The Dark Lord is likely to try his best to break through your barriers now that there's been enough time for news of your injury and the tournament to spread. Ideally you would be able to occlude without even thinking about it, but we'll work on that over Christmas." His narration was hardly helping him concentrate on occluding his mind but he gave a jerky nod as he shut his eyes to focus.

"When can I get out of here?" he asked, skimming his hand over the bedside table in search of his glasses. It took him a moment to realise that Snape was holding them out. When Snape came into focus he had nothing of the air of smug calmness he'd exuded after Harry had been pulled from the tournament. Instead, he looked weary, worse than on those nights he'd stayed up making that potion for Harry's scar.

"Until your body has recovered from the trauma at the very least. At any rate, you cannot leave until we've found a way to ensure your safety."

"Don't you get sent to Azkaban for trying to kill someone? I don't see why I'm in danger if that's where they're packing Malfoy off to." Harry huffed, shuffling up into a sitting position. He was so busy struggling to rearrange his pillows behind him that he almost missed Snape's response.

"Draco was not responsible for your fall."

Harry stopped dead. "He cursed me to my face. He wasn't subtle about it."

"I know what you believe happened–" Snape began, his tone placating.

"You're actually sticking up for Malfoy again? And I bet you're going to say that somehow this is my fault because perfect bloody Draco–"

"You misunderstand me," Snape interrupted loudly, then continued in a level tone. "I'm certain Draco did hex you, but he was not responsible for his actions." If Snape thought he was calming Harry down he was very much mistaken. Most likely sensing this, he clarified. "Imperius curse."

"Convenient," Harry sneered, gritting his teeth in anger. His hands were curled into fists, knotting up the bedclothes, and he couldn't look at Snape, choosing instead to fix his gaze on the plain curtain surrounding them. He didn't buy it. Of course Snape wanted to believe Draco didn't really do it, he liked Draco, and he didn't want him to get expelled. Not that Snape had ever had a problem trying to get Harry kicked out of Hogwarts and for a lot less than attempted murder!

"Your anger is misdirected," Snape declared. When Harry shot him a furious glare and opened his mouth to retort, he held up a hand to forestall him. "You would do better to direct your anger at the person who is a threat to your life than a young man who you view as a threat to your position with me. We will discuss the other but not now."

"I don't–" He cut himself off, exhaling heavily. There was no point arguing with him when he had that look on his face. "I thought you were supposed to be nice to someone when they almost get killed," he groused instead.

"I'm being the epitome of patience with you."

As if he knew what epitome meant. "Fine, so who did he say imperiused him then?"

"As far as I'm aware he doesn't know but Albus may have more to tell us when he comes in."

"You haven't asked him yourself?"

"No," Snape replied as if the answer should have been obvious.

"I had my doubts that Mr Malfoy would survive the meeting," Professor Dumbledore said warmly, stepping around the curtain. "Now that you know he wasn't to blame he could do with a visit from his Head of House." 

Snape merely scowled. "Harry could do with my protection here."

"You've warded the hospital wing admirably. Although the ones I put in place would have sufficed. I can certainly sit with him until you return," he offered, conjuring his own chair on the other side of Harry's bed.

"I don't need baby-sitting. I have been in the hospital wing before."

"Shut up, Harry."

"Severus," Dumbledore insisted. Snape didn't reply but turned to silently regard Harry, who looked blankly back. "Severus," he repeated with a touch of impatience.

After a lengthy pause Snape finally gave in. "I'll be back shortly."

Every inch of Snape screamed reluctance as he stalked from the hospital wing. Harry returned to the more important matter of when he'd get to leave.

"Professor Dumbledore? What's happening now?"

"You'll be staying in the hospital wing until we've made arrangements to ensure your safety. The ministry will certainly want to be involved given the nature of the incident and the use of the Imperius curse."

"He was definitely imperiused then?"

"Most assuredly." Harry sighed, collapsing back against his pillows. He hadn't really believed Snape but if even Dumbledore thought it was true...

"And you don't know who imperiused him?"

"No, but I believe we would be wise to assume it was the same person who put your name in the cup, and, as of yet, we haven't had any luck finding the culprit."

Harry nodded outwardly in understanding but inside he was frustrated. If Dumbledore could get him out the tournament and was such a great wizard why couldn't he find this one person? They had to be in the castle after all. He, Ron and Hermione would do a better job finding whoever it was. All they needed to do was to draw them out. 

"Did Ron and Hermione come by before I woke up?" he asked hopefully.

"Visitors weren't permitted until your condition had stabilised."

"What about now?"

"Severus' presence might raise questions you'd both rather not deal with I think, my boy."

Harry nodded again. He did want to see his friends but he didn't want Snape to leave. Despite being disgruntled about Snape's news about Malfoy, he'd been pleasantly surprised that Snape had been here when he woke up. He didn't need it, but it was... well, nice of him to stay when he was obviously exhausted.

He was determined to stay awake and find out what Snape learned from Malfoy. He forced his eyelids not to close and waited for him to return.

---

S.S.

"Draco is understandably concerned. He's demanding to see his father," Severus said quietly, careful not to wake Harry as he returned to his bedside.

"I'll release a statement indicating his innocence as soon as practicable.' The headmaster stood but continued to regard Severus sternly. "What happened to discretion? You're the very image of a worried parent. Poppy knows you better than to assume your interference was down to love of the boy, so she's taking your attitude as a sleight against her ability to practice healing."

"I had more important things to consider than whether or not I was insulting your resident medi-witch."

"You're lucky she considers your attitude in that light, but if you continue as you are she may well rethink that. She's seen enough distraught relatives in this wing to realise how you feel and I have yet to discuss your reaction at the scene of the incident. You looked every bit as distressed as I'm sure you felt."

Severus' lips twisted at the mention of distress of all things. His reaction was in line with the seriousness of the incident. "I thought he was dead."

"I won't have a spy if you cannot control your emotions and if we don't have you as a spy then I don't know what chance Harry will have when the time comes," the headmaster reproached.

"It was an exception," he snapped, resting his hand lightly atop Harry's head and tracing a line where Madam Pomfrey had healed the fracture. Selfishly, he'd rather Harry was awake. Asleep, it was too much like he was that lifeless body on those steps. He pushed the memory from his mind, remembering as he did so what he had decided regarding Draco.

"Draco is at risk as well as Harry. I'm not entirely comfortable sending him back to the Slytherin dormitories without considering his safety. The culprit could have something against both Draco and Harry."

"It seems unlikely, but if not, then it means that there is no student at Hogwarts who isn't at risk of being cursed. As for Harry's safety, something quite effective occurred to me..."

---

Severus' leg swung agitatedly, banging against the antique wood of the headmaster's desk. Heavily warded as the hospital wing was, he'd rather either he or the headmaster stayed with Harry, even while he slept. He was, after all, still vulnerable to attack.

The headmaster sent him a fleeting look telling him to compose himself as the floo flared green, announcing Lucius' imminent arrival.

"Where is my son?" Lucius' tone invited the impression that he suspected Draco's absence was due to the incompetence of the headmaster as opposed to any concerns he had about his safety.

"Quite safe, I assure you. We can by all means include him in this meeting, but he's had an alarming day. I felt it best to leave him where he is."

Lucius sneered, no doubt at the idea that the headmaster thought his son so human as to find the events of the day 'disturbing'.

"And just where is he?"

"In the care of our deputy headmistress."

Lucius' frown deepened at that and Severus felt the need to clarify. "The attacker would be as confused as you are now. They would expect that he would be in my care."

"As he should be." Severus inclined his head in agreement.

"You've no doubt been wasting all your resources protecting the Potter boy but I will not tolerate Draco being forgotten. Your thoroughly lax running of this school has already endangered my son. What are you going to do to ensure his safety?"

"We are bringing in measures to protect every student at Hogwarts. The children will be accompanied to their classes by their teachers and there will be a curfew in place until the culprit is found. The aurors have been called in to investigate and would like to speak to Draco after our meeting. We feel that until we have a better idea of who the perpetrator is we cannot allow Draco to reside in Slytherin."

"Your solution is to interrogate my son then turn him out of his House? I can only see that I have two options, pull him from this school or petition to have you removed. I've succeeded once; it is well within my capabilities to succeed again," he threatened, but the headmaster remained unaffected.

"I assure you Draco will be given the best protection we can offer. He will live in an alternative dormitory for the time-being but continue his classes in Slytherin. As for when he's in the corridors or the Great Hall, he will have a personal... guard of sorts," Severus interrupted. He'd hoped to reassure Lucius but it was impossible that he would accept this solution.

"A guard?" he questioned, no doubt hearing the doubt in Severus' tone.

"A house elf to be more exact, to watch over him twenty-four hours a day, if need be," the Headmaster suggested quite confidently.

"A house elf! That's the great protection bestowed by Albus Dumbledore."

"We're negotiating with the Head of the Aurors to have two of their team brought into the castle to protect the boys; however, until we've secured an agreement we need an alternative," he said waving away Lucius' dismissal. "It is all too easy to underestimate house elf magic but I find them to be quite intriguing beings. They can apparate inside the castle, they are loyal to their master and I think you're aware that they can defend themselves and others from a witch or wizard if need be."

It was a strain to resist rolling his eyes. It wasn't the wisest idea to remind Lucius that his own house elf had been able to attack him once it had been freed.

"I will not entrust my son to such lowly, traitorous creatures." He said creature as he would 'rodent' or 'scum'. "The board of governors would be shocked to hear such a pitiful plan. Draco will have the same protection as the Potter boy."

"I'm sure you understand that we cannot discuss the specifics of Harry's protection with anybody outside the castle," the headmaster said firmly.

"Draco will be protected as a priority in the corridors by the accompanying member of staff. The presence of the house elf will be merely to alert the maximum number of people to come to his aid if he is under threat or to prevent the attacker from being able to take Draco or any of our teachers by surprise. It's the last defence they would expect."

"No. Draco will spend the remainder of term in your care, Severus. I'm certain you can have no issues with this. It was suitable for Potter during the summer, so it will suffice for Draco. He'll attend classes and that is all. He will be the absolute priority of whichever teacher is accompanying them to their next class and, in fact, he will have a personal house elf. A Malfoy house elf," he declared, sneering down at the headmaster, daring him to deny him.

Severus' stomach sank. Lucius wanted him to take in Draco for the remainder of term? From the look on his face, he wasn't going to be swayed from his demand. 

"You cannot order me to agree to this," he erupted, once they were out of earshot.

"You did say that you didn't want Mr. Malfoy sent back to live in Slytherin."

"My quarters are not a hostel for misplaced students."

"Housing Draco for two weeks is not the worst sacrifice you could make in order to gain an advantage in this war."

"I know how long it would be for and what I would gain," he growled. Yes, it would give the appearance that his loyalties lie alongside the Malfoys' but he had no obligation to bend to Lucius' every whim. "My home is open to Harry, first and foremost."

"And Harry has no use of his room for the next two weeks. You are well aware that it would be beneficial to appear to be on good terms with Lucius. You will be of no use to us as a spy if you are not integrated with those who will most certainly be in Voldemort's inner circle."

It was low of the headmaster to use his spying to convince him, especially after what he'd said the day before. He had no choice but to agree now.

"Harry will not appreciate this development. Not at all."

"I'll leave you to speak to him then. I should expect that all the arrangements for him will be made by this afternoon. He can go back to the tower after dinner."

How easy it was for the headmaster to dismiss Harry's feelings. He wasn't the one risking his rapport with the boy and he wasn't the man Harry had chosen to rely on. This was not remotely the right moment to deal with Harry's issues regarding Draco. Ever since he'd begun testing Harry's mental barriers during occlumency his understanding of Harry's resentment of Draco had begun to make more sense. During the summer he'd dealt with the matter with so little awareness of Harry's feelings and no real attempt to find out the source of his discontent. Yet again he was utterly failing as a suitable guardian for the boy and he was about to make a bad situation worse.

---

When Severus strode back to the hospital wing it was to see Harry tying up his shoelaces on the edge of his bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Madam Pomfrey said I could leave in the morning."

"You aren't going anywhere," Severus declared, untying his shoelaces with a flick of his wand.

"Madam Pomfrey said I was healed," Harry replied, pulling his foot back up to redo his laces.

"It's not safe for you to go back to school yet."

"But-"

"This is not a negotiation." he snapped. Why did Harry refuse to take dangerous situations seriously?

"I'm not arguing," Harry said, holding his arms up as if in surrender. "Just hear me out. I don't want to have to hide all the time or have people following me around. It wasn't fun last year and if Sirius had wanted to kill me he could have, so it didn't do any good. Dumbledore said last night that you still don't know who it is, right? But he reckons it's the same person who entered me into the tournament so we know they're definitely keen on killing me."

"Is this getting to a point?"

"We should just draw them out now," Harry said earnestly. "They must want me dead pretty bad. It can't be that hard to get them to give it another go, only this time you can catch whoever it is."

"What's wrong with you?" he snarled, grabbing Harry by the shoulders. "I thought you'd died! I will not go through that again, no matter how inconvenient you find the measures put in place to protect you. Dear Merlin, Harry," he said, releasing him abruptly.

"Sorry," Harry stammered, eyes wide. Severus scowled. He didn't like to think that the stress was beginning to impact on him but he couldn't afford to be so unrestrained with the boy. The events of the day before had perturbed him more than he thought possible. "I just thought it would be easier if we sorted it out sooner. If whoever it is really wants to get to me, I don't see what you can do to stop them."

"I'm not interested in easy and your analysis of the situation is flawed. If this is the same person who put your name in the goblet then it is far more likely that this last attack was a rash act of anger. In that case they won't be so easy to draw out." He stopped himself from following that up with 'you blithering fool' by no small amount of willpower. "If I didn't think you would be safe then I would not send you back."

"If you don't think they're going to try again then what's with all the fuss?"

"I don't know what they're going to do. I don't know if they're working for the Dark Lord or if it's a madman with a grudge but I'm not about to risk your life to find out," he said, raising his voice once again. Not the tone he'd been going for when he'd entered the hospital wing. It seemed his store of patience was most definitely finite.

"All right, all right. I'm sorry."

H.P.

Snape paced back and forth along his isolated cubicle, his fingers tapping an agitated rhythm on his forearm. Harry wanted to ask again when he would actually get to leave but Snape's nerves seemed stretched to their limit already.

"You need to stay here until after dinner." It was lucky that Snape knew him well enough to know exactly what was on his mind.

"I have to stay here all day again?"

"You could be dead. I fail to see how a day and a half in the hospital wing is such a disaster."

Well, when he put it like that he could see that it wasn't the end of the world but it was incredibly dull here. He'd go stir crazy stuck here all by himself all day.

"Can't you just tell people I'm in the hospital wing and then I can go to yours until dinner?" he suggested hopefully.

"No and don't argue the point. We have something more pressing to discuss," Snape said grimly.

"How I'm going to be able to go back to school? You're not going to make all the teachers escort us everywhere like in second year, are you?"

"It's not a guessing game. I did have a topic in mind." Harry waited until Snape was ready to actually tell him what it was. "As it turns out, now is the time to have that conversation about your issues with Draco," Snape declared, his voice gentling slightly, as much as it could for the Potions Master.

He wasn't too keen on the direction the conversation was taking, and Snape's tone was doing nothing to make him feel any better. In fact it was quite unsettling seeing as he usually yelled at him and told him he was wrong about the whole situation.

"I heard you before. He was under the imperius curse." Even he knew he sounded sullen at that.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you're going to say," Harry sighed.

"I have no intention of saying anything until you've finished. Speak your mind," he said, sitting down and gesturing for him to begin. Harry watched him suspiciously for a moment before he decided that a free chance to rant about Malfoy was too good an opportunity to pass up. If Snape wanted to hear what he thought then he'd hear it, all right.

"He's an evil, nasty, vicious git and he might not have tried to kill me yesterday but if he thought he could get away with it then he'd do it in a second," he said quickly, all in one breath. That felt good to say and seeing that Snape was serious about listening to him, he carried on. "He's going the same way as his father. He's just as much of a racist, he's always going on about blood and calling Hermione a mudblood. He tries to get other people's pets killed and he's always going around threatening people. You know what annoys me more than all of that? It's that you don't care. Even if he had tried to kill me you'd have made out as if it was my fault. Whenever something happens it's always my fault, even though you know he starts it."

"During the summer Draco is not my responsibility, you are. If I ask you not to fight with someone then I will punish you for disobeying me."

"No matter what he does? He can get away with doing anything and I'm in the wrong if I retaliate."

"What he does to antagonise you is beside the point. I expect him to antagonise you. I have no illusions as to his character."

"And despite all that, you still like him better," Harry said, raising his voice. "You know he's a bully. He's worse than a bully. No matter what he does or how evil he is, you still like him more than me."

"No."

"You never hear me out," he continued. "You just yell at me and call me stupid and you don't even ask what happened."

"I fear you're drawing parallels from your previous family situation. How your cousin was treated compared to you was reprehensible but it is not remotely the same as how I treat Draco. It is not comparable."

"I know it's not," Harry shouted. "The Dursleys would probably never have loved me as much as Dudley even if I wasn't a freak to them but Malfoy's not your son. I'm the one who lives with you and you still prefer him. And you know what? They're both rubbish people. Dudley was a massive bully and Malfoy's worse."

"You certainly aren't a freak and if your aunt and uncle had an ounce of sense they'd have loved you as a son," Snape said fiercely, catching Harry's hand in his own.

"I said I was a freak to them. I know it was my magic."

"I've seen from your memories how your cousin was favoured over you and undeservedly so, but I refuse to believe that you truly see parallels in how I treat Draco."

Harry's mouth fell open in disbelief. There were so many, how could you miss them? And this coming from Snape who took pride in his observation skills. "You thought I was arrogant and a bully like my father and you hated me," Harry began rattling off, pulling his hand out of Snape's grip to count on his fingers. "Draco is arrogant and calling him a bully is putting it lightly and you like him. You're always calling me stupid or an imbecile and you don't say anything to him. In fact, anything you do say is praise or points to Slytherin. Whenever we get into a fight you go mental at me no matter what he's done. That's all just off the top of my head, quite a few parallels already, I'd say."

"Do you honestly think I judge people favourably based on kindness? I hated you because I hated your father. It was irrational and I was wrong." He looked like conceding he was wrong still left a bad taste in his mouth. "As for the others... We've discussed that still I have to appear to favour him publicly and not to care about you. I know you understand that."

"Yeah, publicly. Look, I don't want to talk about this any more."

"I've been neglecting these issues long enough. I shouldn't call you names; it is infantile and merely an expression of my anger at the time. Certain habits are more difficult to break than others, as we've discussed before. I believe you still have difficulty calling me Severus."

"I never really wanted to call you Severus," Harry admitted with a shrug. "I only wanted to because I found out that Malfoy did. It's a bit weird. I mean, Ron doesn't call his dad Arthur."

"No, I suppose he doesn't," Snape replied slowly, a strange look passing briefly over his face. "In any case, you are vastly overestimating my interest in Draco's welfare. You are the only child in my care. In that respect, your relationship with me is singular. Do I truly make you feel as your relatives did regarding your cousin?"

"No, no. I just– no."

"Harry," he persisted.

"No, you don't. You've been great to me," he replied, shaking his head but refusing to meet Snape's eyes.

"I've been neglecting you, so much so that you still cannot trust me enough to speak honestly with me. There is no competition in my mind between the pair of you. I don't want to keep revisiting this subject. All you are doing is hurting yourself with this imagined rivalry. Who else I like or how much has no impact on your relationship with me. I allow you to see your godfather, do I not?"

"Sirius is nowhere near as bad as Draco," Harry scoffed.

"I raised the matter of Draco because I had something to ask of you."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he regarded Snape warily. He highly doubted that he was going to ask something he wanted to hear.

"As you're aware we've made arrangements for you to be able to go back to the tower. We would have made similar arrangements for Draco but Lucius is determined that Draco be protected while the matter is investigated. He believes that Draco would be more vulnerable than you at this stage. The perpetrator may want to get rid of him so that we cannot find out who they are, and there is a significant chance that whoever cursed him is a Slytherin student. It would explain why he was chosen to be framed for your murder. It is likely to be someone he's personally offended."

"So, he's not going back to school."

"He's not going back to Slytherin," Snape corrected him. "Lucius requested that he stay with me until the end of term. I'd like to put him in your room for the next two weeks, if you're agreeable to it."

No, he wasn't agreeable to it. Snape knew he wouldn't be before he'd even asked the question. But then it wasn't terribly like him to ask for permission to do something...

Harry shot him a glare. "That's pretty Slytherin of you."

"Oh?" Snape replied, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah. If you get me to say yes then I've agreed to it and I can't complain about it. It's not like I can say no anyway."

"You can say no. If you truly cannot tolerate it then I'll say no to the headmaster and Lucius."

"You know I won't because you've already said that you need to act like you're mates with the Malfoys," he said crossing his arms. "I'm saying yeah, okay? I'm not going to pretend that I'm fine with it, though. What's happening when I get out of here?" he said, promptly changing the subject.

Snape looked uncertain for a moment but then fell back into his stern teacher mode. "It goes without saying that when you're out of the tower you are to be in a group of two or more Gryffindors, preferably Weasley and Granger, more if possible. Teachers will be escorting pupils between classes. It's not a strong defence against the Imperius curse, so for your personal protection, the headmaster assures me you have a quite determined friend who would do anything to protect you."

"Who?" 

"Dobby," Snape said, though not so much as a reply to Harry but as a summons for the elf. All of a sudden, Dobby popped into the hospital wing, bowing low.

"Professor Snape called Dobby?"

"I believe you're acquainted with Mr Potter." He gestured lazily at Harry and all at once Dobby's eyes brightened and he was almost vibrating with excitement.

"Master Harry Potter, sir! It is an honour to serve you. Dobby has been hearing about bad wizards attacking Master Harry but it won't happen again, no sir."

"Dobby, I can't believe you're here." He hadn't seen Dobby since he'd freed him from the Malfoys, but he looked healthier and happier than he had two years ago. "Wait, what exactly do you mean serve me?"

"Dobby has got a job protecting Master Harry Potter! Dobby won't let any bad wizard harm Master Harry. Dobby would be doing anything to protect Master Harry."

"Isn't that dangerous?" He'd had a few trips to the hospital wing in second year due to Dobby's attempts to 'protect' him. "You don't have to keep trying to save me, Dobby," Harry insisted. Even besides Dobby's sometimes over-enthusiastic efforts to keep him out of harm's way, he couldn't expect Dobby to just give up whatever he was doing to be some sort of bodyguard.

"Dobby wants to. Dobby would rather die than let anything bad happen to Master Harry Potter," he cried earnestly.

"Go back to the kitchens, Dobby. We won't be requiring your services until after dinner this evening," Snape interrupted and Dobby vanished with a crack.

"Hold on, I didn't get a chance to talk to him. Where did you find him?"

"He was working in the castle," he replied with what counted as a shrug for Snape. "House elf magic is powerful and he should be able to intervene should anyone else be put under the imperius curse and made to attack you, at least until we can get you further help. I wasn't sure it would be enough until I spoke to him myself. He's quite protective of you."

"Thought you'd know him already. He used to be Malfoy's house elf."

"They have a great many house elves. Dobby will only be answerable to me, the headmaster and you, and obviously he won't be performing any of his regular duties."

"I don't want to use him just because he likes me. It's not really fair on him."

"The way I see it he owes you for freeing him from Lucius."

"He tried to warn me about Tom Riddle so I reckon we're even." He thought it best not to mention that Dobby's version of protecting him sometimes meant injuring him. If Snape didn't think this plan was going to be safe then Harry would be stuck in the hospital wing until he graduated from Hogwarts. It wasn't like he could go back to Snape's now that Malfoy was in his room.

"If I took the job away from him I'm certain he'd be quite aggrieved. The ideal solution would be to get aurors into the castle but we're having difficulties with the Head Auror, so for the time-being Dobby will have to do."

If Snape thought it was possible to have Harry surrounded at all times by the entire auror department, every house elf in the castle and a band of protective trolls he'd probably organise it.

"Can I see Ron and Hermione now?"

H.P.

"We've been so worried," Hermione cried taking Harry by surprise as she burst through the curtains around his bed and threw her arms around him.

"Er, I'm fine. I think I was all healed yesterday to be honest."

"I guess that settles whether someone's out to kill you," Ron said grimly, dragging a chair up to Harry's bedside.

"What are they going to do? You're not going to have to leave, are you?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"No, I'm not leaving. Besides, they can't leave a potential murderer in the school, and they reckon Malfoy's in danger as well."

"Who'd have a problem with Malfoy and you?" Ron asked frowning. "You're either on one side or the other."

"Apparently not," he shrugged.

"Harry's right. Whoever imperiused Malfoy was trying to frame him," Hermione agreed with a nod.

"Yeah, poor him," he muttered.

It was hard to be that sympathetic to Malfoy. So he'd been imperiused, it was hardly that big of a deal. After all, he did get to attack Harry and get away with it; that must be the dream for Malfoy. The rational part of him knew that wasn't exactly likely and that he was being petty, but it was hard not to be when all he'd been hearing since waking up was Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy.

"So, when can you come back to school? You look all right," Ron asked.

"Ron, he almost died!"

"Madam Pomfrey can heal all that," he said, waving at Harry absently.

Ron's relaxed attitude to his fall was refreshing compared to Snape and Hermione's fretting. It was probably because Ron had his whole life to get used to magical healing. If Madam Pomfrey can re-grow bones then she can mend a few breaks. He figured Hermione just hadn't gotten used to how quick magical healing really was, even for serious stuff. Although that didn't really explain Snape's fussing.

"Yeah, she said I cracked my skull, but I was fine yesterday. I'm coming back after dinner tonight. They're going to start having teachers take us everywhere again like in second year and I'm not supposed to go anywhere alone," he said with a grimace and Ron grinned in sympathy. "Do you guys remember Dobby?"

"No... Hold on, wasn't he that nutter who almost killed you when he was trying to save your life?"

"Yeah. He's going to be following me around looking out for me." Harry couldn't help but notice Hermione purse her lips at that, but she didn’t say anything about it.

"Are you sure he's not going to be more of a danger than a help?" Ron asked, looking vaguely horror-stricken.

"I reckon Dumbledore told him to injure whoever attacks me, and not me, this time."

"It might be worth double-checking that, mate. Anyway, what's your date going to think of you taking Dobby to the Yule ball too?"

"Are you joking? I don't have a date. Do you have dates?" he asked, staring wide-eyed between the pair of them. The Yule ball had been the last thing on his mind this term. 

"No, but we've got time, don't we?" Ron replied, a worried edge creeping into his own voice. Hermione said nothing, fidgeting with the edge of her cloak.

"What?" she said finally, looking up to see two pairs of eyes on her.

"Do you have a date?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I might," she returned, a touch defensively.

"Who is it?"

"Shouldn't we be talking about Harry? Someone did try and kill him."

"Nope, we're done talking about me," Harry grinned.

"Who is it?" Ron persisted.

"Maybe you should focus on who your date is going to be."

"Who's left?" Harry asked, panicking all over again.

"What if we get left with some ugly–"

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, rounding on Ron.

Harry, sensing danger, blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Do we even have to go? I don't dance."

"You can't not go. Even Ginny's got a date."

"She's not even in our year!" Harry exclaimed. This was getting worse by the second. Everyone's going and everyone already had a date.

"You think you've got problems; you haven't seen my dress robes," Ron said with a shudder.

"I think you'd rather wear whatever you've got than mine."

"Why didn't you get ones you liked?" Hermione asked, confused.

Harry's eyes went wide and he tried to think on his feet. "Um, I had to order them while I was at Hogwarts and I think they messed the order up, but I didn't know how to fix it... Seriously, Hermione, who's left?"

"Why do you think I have a clue?" she asked, still watching Harry oddly.

"You live in the dormitory with all the girls."

"You're Harry Potter. People will be queuing up to go with you."

"Hey, thanks a lot," Ron said indignantly.

The time passed surprisingly quickly with his friends keeping him company, even if he couldn't leave the hospital wing. At least Ron and Hermione weren't having kittens about this attempted murderer; he got enough of that from Snape. They didn't think this was something they couldn't handle.

He'd give anything to be able to tell them the truth about his living situation. Snape seemed to be getting to grips a bit more with this whole guardian thing, but Harry had no idea how to be someone's ward. He hadn't even known the word until recently. He knew his friends would be able to help, Hermione would be full of insights and advice and Ron would get where Harry was coming from. He needed someone to, for a change.

But there was something he could tell them, a different secret, but not less important. Strange though, that he hadn't really considered how to explain the prophecy. He'd been putting off thinking about it. There was the tournament to deal with first and he and Ron hadn't been speaking so he could hardly have said anything anyway. Now was the time though. Voldemort was going to come back and trying to forget about the prophecy wasn't going to make it any less true.

He cleared his throat nervously. "While we're alone and we've got the wards, there's something I need to tell you two." Hermione and Ron stopped debating who could have it in for Malfoy and want to kill Harry as well and looked up at him expectantly.

"Right, well, Voldemort came after me and my parents when I was a baby because someone made a prophecy... about me." Hermione's eyebrows shot up at that. "It said that there was going to be a baby born at the end of July and it'd have the power the Dark Lord knows not, so he came after my family to kill me before I could grow up and be a threat to him. The gist of it is that in the end either I'll kill him or he'll kill me."

"Oh, Harry!"

"Wow, that's... Are you all right?" Ron gaped.

"Yeah, I've known for a while. I was just waiting until we were back to normal to, uh, say anything."

"I'm really sorry, mate."

Harry wasn't sure whether he was sorry for the prophecy or that he had to wait so long to tell them, or both, but he appreciated it anyway.

"It's a secret, not even Voldemort knows the whole prophecy, so–"

"We're not going to say anything, Harry. Not to anyone, we wouldn't," Hermione interrupted earnestly.

"I know, I trust you guys. We didn't think telling you was going to put you in any danger, not now at least. Apparently Voldemort–" He ignored Ron's shudder at the name. "–won't think that I know or that I'll be told for a while yet."

"We're not worried that you've put us in danger. We want to know; we wouldn't make you face this alone. Look at what we've done already," Ron exclaimed, gesturing wildly as if he could visibly show Harry all that they'd done together.

"He's coming back soon, Ron," Harry reminded him. This wasn't some vague abstract threat. He would come back, thanks to Pettigrew. "Remember Trelawney's prophecy from the end of last year? The original prophecy was her too, so don't laugh, Hermione," he said glancing her way when she began to look incredulous. "She's a phoney most of the time; she doesn't even know that she does real prophecies."

"Do you know the prophecy off by heart? I'd like to hear it," Hermione asked.

"It's kind of hard to forget." He rattled the prophecy off, but it didn't sound quite as threatening when he was relaying it instead of Snape.

"Is it definitely you? Could it refer to anyone else?" she asked.

"Do you think it could?"

"The only thing identifying you for sure is the part about your birthday," Ron said, but Hermione shook her head.

"You-Know-Who has marked him as his equal." She tapped her own forehead and Harry mirrored the action, tracing his finger over his scar.

"Is this why you've been missing from the tower so much?" Ron asked as Hermione continued to mull over the wording of the prophecy.

"No, that was for occlumency and practice for the tournament."

"I did tell you that, Ron," Hermione added.

"I just thought Dumbledore would be teaching you stuff for this. How long have you known about it?"

"A few weeks I guess."

"Oh," Ron said with an odd look on his face, almost a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said firmly and his expression became determined. "We're going to be there right beside you, Harry. Whatever happens."

"I really appreciate this, but you guys don't have to..."

"Come on, Harry. If You-Know-Who comes back it's going to be war, just like last time. My family is a bunch of blood traitors, and Hermione's muggle-born."

"Not to mention we've been helping you for years. We helped you save the philosopher’s stone, and Ron went with you to fight Tom Riddle. He's going to want to get rid of us too."

When Harry made to protest again Ron interrupted brusquely. "If you found out there was a prophecy about me or Hermione, would you abandon us?"

"No. Of course not."

"Well, we feel the same about you. We've all risked our lives before."

When they put it that way, it was hard to argue, and the weight of the prophecy felt just that little bit lighter on his shoulders.

---

S.S.

Severus eyed his quarters critically, attempting to ensure there was no evidence of Harry's presence in his life strewn over the counters, the sofas or in his bedroom. He'd moved the child’s few belongings into his own room, and had one of the elves make the room up for Draco.

He'd put his foot down against having a Malfoy elf in his quarters. It could accompany Draco outside these walls but wouldn't set a foot within them. He wasn't overly suspicious of Lucius' demands, he didn't doubt that he wanted to protect his son first and foremost, but he wasn't going to have his own life interrupted to that extent.

"Severus? The aurors will be here any moment," the headmaster's head announced from his floo.

"I'll be there in a moment."

The aurors weren’t clever enough to know the right questions to ask, were too stubborn to ask for anything more than the answers they wanted, and were too ruthless to be on the right side of the first war. Moody was evidence enough of this and he'd have no part in this investigation if Severus could help it. The last thing he needed was a rogue auror preventing them from catching the real culprit.

Draco stood beside his father as he waited for the aurors to arrive but the tension in his frame betrayed his anxiety. Severus stood alongside the headmaster's desk. Their presence should be some deterrent for the aurors.

The floo flared green and the two aurors strode out, looking severe in the heavy, red robes of their department. The first was a stern, older man with streaks of grey in his short hair and a well-groomed beard. The second was an even older woman, her eyebrows drawn in a severe frown over thick, heavy spectacles that made her eyes look too large. Muggle-born, most likely.

Aurors old enough to have worked during the first war must have been sent deliberately, perhaps due to their familiarity with Lucius. They'd know not to alienate him considering how favoured he was by the minister for magic, but they'd also be aware of his tales of being under the imperius curse. Naturally there would be a question as to whether Draco was merely attempting to follow in his father's footsteps.

"Good afternoon Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr Malfoy, Professor Snape. I'm Auror Savage," the wizard said. "And this is my colleague Auror Proudfoot." He indicated the elderly witch beside him. Draco's eyes narrowed, likely at their failure to acknowledge his presence.

"We've been given information that there has been a serious attack in the castle and an unforgivable curse cast?"

"Indeed. Draco Malfoy is the victim of the unforgivable curse. He and his father have consented to speak with you to help us catch the culprit," Severus said, indicating the headmaster's and his own belief that Draco wasn't to blame for the attack.

He didn't fool himself that his views would carry any weight with these two. He would be lucky if no one brought up his own past in an attempt to incriminate him. Having been a Death Eater did him no favours; it was assumed that he had a history casting unforgivable curses and his animosity with Harry and familiarity with the Malfoys could easily put him under suspicion.

"If we could check the facts before we begin..."

"Certainly. Do have a seat, everyone," the headmaster said jovially, conjuring enough chairs for the aurors and the Malfoys.

"Thank you," Proudfoot replied, her tone clipped. She appeared disgruntled that they were being treated as guests as opposed to investigating ministry officials.

"Shortly after the first task had taken place Mr Potter was standing on the first floor at the top of the staircase. In terms of witnesses...?"

"The students and teachers were making their way back into the castle from the grounds. There were a great many students in the entrance hall and on the first floor," the headmaster replied.

"M. Malfoy has been accused of casting a jinx to cause Mr Potter to fall halfway down a flight of stairs sustaining numerous injuries, some with the potential to be fatal?"

"He suffered a fractured skull, broken bones and severe blood loss. If your office needs specifics I suggest you discuss the matter with Madam Pomfrey. She was his healer and has a record of his injuries," Severus interjected.

"Could easily have been fatal," Savage nodded, and his colleague made a note in her odd little notebook. Muggle-born or half-blood certainly, using the muggle prop to antagonise the Malfoys, perhaps?

"You were seen by a good portion of Hogwarts jinxing Mr Potter and leaving him severely injured or, for all you knew, dead, on those stairs. You must have realised that such a grievous attack would be taken very seriously, unlike your other attacks on Mr Potter?" This time the question was aimed at Draco and the accusatory tone did not go unnoticed.

Lucius' gaze hardened on the aurors, his fingers twitching, obviously aching to grip his wand.

"That wasn't my first thought when I was released from the curse," Draco returned coldly.

"What was?" Savage challenged.

"At first, I was disorientated and confused. When I realised what exactly had happened, I was rather perturbed, as you might imagine." Perturbed indeed. He’d looked terrified after the attack as Severus strode towards him.

"And how long was it before you claimed you'd been cursed?"

"You require the exact number of minutes that elapsed from the attack until the moment Draco was able to inform a member of staff that he'd been under the imperius curse for your investigation, do you?" Severus sneered. It was clear that the aurors were keen to apportion the blame to Draco despite the headmaster’s and his own assertions to the contrary.

"Perhaps there is some way you can be assured that young Draco is telling the truth?" the headmaster pressed.

"If Mr Malfoy would give his consent for his son to be dosed with Veritaserum that would speed up the investigation."

"No, I don't believe I will consent to that." Lucius stared back at the aurors stonily, his contempt palpable. Draco looked rather disgruntled by his father's refusal.

"Is there an auror capable of performing legilimency?"

"There are none available at the moment."

So, no and they didn't want to advertise the fact.

"Did anyone see you get cursed?" Savage asked, continuing the interrogation.

"I was surrounded by students, so it's possible that someone noticed."

Proudfoot made a slight note at that.

"Perhaps you could describe what it felt like to be under the influence of the curse?"

"I felt like my body was out of my control, I was carefree. There was a voice in my head telling me what to do and I couldn't resist it."

"Did you try?"

"Irrelevant," Lucius drawled.

He decided not to point out that Moody had been casting the Imperius curse on students during class, so he would be able to recount the symptoms. It wouldn't be worth the satisfaction of reporting Moody to put further doubt on Draco's story. His father's claims of having been put under the imperius curse during the first war cast enough doubt as it was.

"Can you describe the moment you were cursed? Where were you?"

"I was walking back to the castle with Vincent and Greg, and Pansy was just ahead of me with Millicent. I felt the curse come over me just as I entered the entrance hall."

"Would anyone in that group be able to verify that?"

"You'd have to ask them, wouldn't you?" he replied disdainfully.

"Draco." One word, but Lucius' tone was warning enough. Malfoys had a certain dignity to maintain.

"Greg and Vincent wouldn't have noticed at the time... They aren't terribly perceptive. Pansy is more likely to have realised something had happened."

"And after you felt the curse take hold?"

"I walked up the stairs, which was what the voice was telling me to do. I left Greg and the others and waited on the first floor."

"Where was Mr Potter at this point?"

"I don't know. I was just standing on the first floor; the voice told me to wait and do nothing, so I did."

"Were you worried? After all you could have been forced to do anything."

"No, I couldn't be worried. I didn't feel anything but... serene."

"What happened next?"

"Potter appeared at the top of the stairs and I spoke to him, I told him luck wouldn't always be on his side."

"Was that you speaking or...?"

"I said it, but they weren't my words. Potter turned away and looked over the banister and when he was about to go down the stairs the voice told me to cast a trip jinx."

Proudfoot's quill moved quickly over her muggle paper. Draco's account did match the signs of being under the Imperius curse. The wording of the threat was unusual. It gave the impression that the aim was to hurt and not to kill, which could work in Draco's favour.

"Why might someone want to use you to attack Mr Potter?"

"I'm an obvious choice, wouldn't you say?"

"Are you agreeing that this attack is typical of your attitude towards Mr Potter?"

"Draco does not have a record of violent attacks against students in this school," Lucius interrupted coldly. "I would have expected experienced aurors such as yourselves to be capable of investigating both the matters you came here to discuss. I wouldn't like to have to inform the minister for magic that your department has woefully neglected to look into a matter of an unforgivable curse cast on a minor."

Savage's eyebrows shot up, "We have every intention of looking into the matter, Mr Malfoy," he said defensively.

"What can you tell us about the voice you heard while you were under the curse?" Proudfoot interjected briskly.

"It was familiar, but I can't place it," Draco said, shaking his head.

"And we established that you were surrounded by a great number of students at the time," Proudfoot said wearily, glancing quickly over her notes. "There's nothing more we need from you at present, but we will certainly be in contact in the near future."

She regarded Lucius and the headmaster sternly. "Due to the violent nature of the attack and young Mr Malfoy's record with Mr Potter, I think it would be appropriate to keep the boys separate at all times and Mr Malfoy under close supervision until we are confident that he was under the influence of the Imperius curse."

"He has been vouched for by the headmaster of this school." Anger began to creep into Lucius’ aloof, aristocratic demeanour.

"With respect, it counts for a great deal, but we do need evidence in order to close the matter. If you were to reconsider Veritaserum..."

"I think not."

"Mr Malfoy will be separated from the student body as a whole due to our concerns over his safety but he'll be attending classes as usual under the supervision of our teachers. I trust that will satisfy your department, bearing in mind there have been no charges against Mr Malfoy and he has cooperated fully with your enquiry," the headmaster replied firmly yet kindly. "Professor Snape can arrange for you to speak with the Slytherin students that Mr Malfoy mentioned this evening, if that is convenient for you?"

"We'd actually like to speak to Mr Potter as soon as possible."

"Of course," the headmaster replied, his eyes calculating.

H.P.

Apparently Snape was too busy to speak to him again that day because he hadn't reappeared in the hospital wing. Dumbledore came though and explained that the aurors would have a few questions. He hinted heavily that it was important that the aurors begin to investigate who Harry's real attacker was and that he might consider answering their questions with that aim in mind.

Harry expected that type of Slytherin attitude from Snape, not from Dumbledore. He'd been led straight to McGonagall's office in silence where two grim aurors were awaiting him.

They weren't exactly what he'd been expecting when he'd heard what an auror was. These two didn't look like they'd be fighting any dark witches or wizards any time soon. Then again, Dumbledore was ancient, and he could be pretty terrifying if he wanted to be.

The two aurors were more controlled than any other witch or wizard he'd ever met. Their eyes flicked to his scar, and the auror who introduced himself as Savage shook his hand rather firmly, as if he was keen to impress, but other than that there was no fuss about who he was, which put him more at ease.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about your altercation with Mr Malfoy. If you feel distressed discussing the attack then you can let us know," Savage reassured him, the simpering attitude not suiting him at all and Harry's respect for him diminished rapidly. He wasn't nervous and he certainly didn’t need to be pandered to.

"If you could run through what happened from when you entered the castle until the attack," Proudfoot suggested

"I came in with my friends, but Professor Dumbledore asked to speak with me alone, so I went with him for a few minutes to a classroom on the first floor. After I came out, I went to look for my friends and they were waiting in the entrance hall. That's why I was at the top of the stairs when I spoke to Malfoy."

"What can you remember about the attack?"

"He said something about me getting out of the tournament, that it was a lucky escape or something. I decided to ignore him because he was alone. The last thing I remember was him saying something about me not being so lucky next time. Then I fell." Proudfoot nodded sympathetically and Harry was hard pressed not to roll his eyes.

"Did anything about your conversation with Mr Malfoy seem unusual to you?"

"Well... It was odd that he was alone. Malfoy isn't the type to pick a fight without his friends to back him up."

"So, you weren't expecting an attack from Mr Malfoy? From what I understand you've been involved in altercations with him in the past."

"No, I wasn't expecting it. Like I said, if he's looking for a fight, he'd want his friends there to back him up. And I'm not saying he's above throwing a curse or two, but he'd usually stop if it meant getting caught or he'd wait for me to start the fight."

"Would you agree with that, Professor McGonagall?"

What did it matter if she agreed? It was his opinion!

"If you want to see Mr Malfoy's school record it is Professor Snape you need to ask."

"You aren't familiar with Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy's animosity?" Proudfoot asked, pausing as she scribbled notes on muggle paper.

"I am, there are few in this school who aren't," she replied in clipped tones. He couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore had told her Draco was innocent.

"Do you think he's capable of such an attack on Mr Potter?"

"I wouldn't have thought him capable of an outright attempt at murder, no."

"There was an incident last year of Mr Malfoy being put in detention for 'behaviour likely to endanger a student', and that student is recorded as being Mr Potter," Savage said, handing over a slip to Professor McGonagall.

"What was that for, Professor?" Harry asked. He couldn't remember anything that serious happening last year.

"Mr Malfoy dressed as a dementor to distract Mr Potter during a quidditch match. I worded the detention slip more severely in the hope that he would think about the consequences of his actions."

Or because she'd been so annoyed that he'd tried to sabotage Gryffindor's chances of winning the quidditch cup. McGonagall was just as competitive as Snape was when it came to that particular trophy.

"Has anyone spoken to you about Mr Malfoy since the attack?" Savage asked, rounding on Harry. In other words, has anyone told you he was under the imperius curse?

"No one's said anything much about Malfoy," he bluffed, hoping they'd drop it. Proudfoot made another note in her little notebook. It reminded Harry of those old fashioned detective programmes that had sometimes been on at the Dursleys.

"Before the attack, who would you have said posed you the greatest danger at this school?"

"Whoever put my name in the goblet of fire," he shrugged.

"Not Mr Malfoy?"

"I don't consider him a threat. I can take him in a duel."

"Would it surprise you to hear that Mr Mafoy has claimed that he was under the imperius curse and was not responsible for his actions when he attacked you?" Savage said a little coldly. Harry knew then that they hadn't believed him when he said that no one had spoken to him about Malfoy.

"Yes, it would," he replied stonily.

McGonagall took over from that point, assuring the aurors that if they had any more questions to ask later on then she would be available to arrange it, but Harry had had a difficult few days and needed to be settled back into the tower. She accompanied them to her office door before rounding on Harry.

"Are you quite alright, Potter?"

"I'm fine, Professor."

"I would advise you to watch your attitude when you speak to the aurors. They are here to help you after all."

"I know." He considered saying that it would be more of a help if they were going to investigate who imperiused Malfoy or put his name in the goblet of fire, but he didn't know how much she knew so he held his tongue. He didn't know if he'd handled that right at all, but he'd hardly been given much direction from Dumbledore and Snape was nowhere to be found. 

S.S.

Severus Snape had been the Potions Master at Hogwarts for over ten years and it was a rarity for a child to be so daring as to steal from his personal stores. He could think of only one occasion when he hadn't caught the culprit, though he had a good idea who the little twit was, and so he had warded his stores accordingly. Never again would his stores be robbed without his knowledge.

Those wards had alerted him to the intruder's presence late into the night, and so a slightly disorientated Severus awoke with the gleeful desire to catch Potter up at night, past curfew and thieving! It took a moment for his brain to catch up and realise that it had better not be Harry because he'd be bloody livid.

He kept his steps light as he walked through the winding dungeons that would lead him to his store cupboard. He swung the door silently open, finding Moody scouring feverishly through his stores, unaware of Severus' presence. He tried not to flinch as ingredients mixed and spilt from the vials that tipped over, taking the opportunity to sneak up on the intruder, levelling his wand at the back of his neck.

"I do not take theft from my stores lightly," he hissed, stepping forward so that the tip of his wand jabbed Moody harder than necessary.

The ex-auror froze where he stood and took his time turning to face Severus. "I'm just doing what I was brought here to do, investigate any traitorous scum lurking in the castle."

Severus doubted that was the case. It certainly hadn't looked that way to him. Unless he was looking for something in particular, his actions didn't seem to be those of a man taking in evidence. He made a mental note to check for anything incriminating that may have been planted in his stores, as well as anything missing.

"You're in no position to investigate anyone, and even if your mind wasn't considerably compromised, you would have no need to investigate me. I happen to have the trust of the headmaster, which is something you're losing faster than your reason. Get out."

He made no attempt to escape, holding his ground. "You're the prime suspect, Snape. No self-respecting auror could ignore the evidence in front of their face. I'm going to have you sent to Azkaban. We both know you're guilty and you've been free far too long." Moody's expression changed from that of a man wistfully dreaming to a face contorted with hatred and still he made no attempt to move away from Severus' wand. It was as if he neither knew nor cared that his words were pushing Severus closer to the limits of patience. How easy it would be to curse this madman. His wand arm twitched.

"The aurors will be far more interested to hear how a senile ex-auror imperiused students during their Defence Against the Dark Arts class! It's Azkaban for one unforgivable, what do you think it would be for a class of thirty?"

"Lower your wand, Snape. Another attack will only make you look guiltier," he jeered.

"OUT," he roared, barely holding at bay the anger that Moody could so easily provoke. Finally, the ex-auror made to leave, but he lingered for one final moment in the doorway.

"I'm keeping my eye on you," he said, tapping the side of his sickeningly revolving magical eye. "I've had words with the aurors about you, your past, your hatred of the boy, the fact that you were one of the first on the scene. You're a guilty man and you will be punished."

---

H.P.

"You don't have to get my stuff, Dobby."

He sighed apologetically at the elf's crestfallen expression as he yanked his bag out of Dobby's grasp for the fourth time that day. He knew he was just trying to be helpful, but he'd already had enough of the stifling attitude of the teachers and Dobby's well-meaning but overbearing nature.

"You can get mine if you want," Ron offered.

"He's supposed to be protecting Harry. Don't distract him," Hermione scolded.

"Mr Potter, if you're quite finished..." Professor McGonagall was waiting impatiently by the door as the rest of the class prepared to file out. He couldn't wait for the attacker to get caught or at the very least for Dumbledore to decide there was no more danger. He wasn't going to hold his breath though; it was Snape pushing for so much security. The whole school was tired of dealing with the extra security measures and even the Gryffindors were having murmurings against the situation.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter, sir."

"Don't worry about it," he reassured him quickly, hurrying to join the rabble of Gryffindors and hoping that no one mentioned Dobby's occasional lapses of attention to Snape. As grateful as he was for the man’s attempts to keep him safe it was more than a bit over the top. Not even when they thought Sirius was after him was there so much fuss.

Considering all the dangerous things they'd done together, he thought Ron and Hermione would agree.

"If you’d seen one of us bleeding on those stairs I don't think you'd think this was over the top. You aren't immortal, you know," Ron shrugged as if he agreed with Hermione's admonishment, which effectively silenced his complaints as they trooped to charms.

"I don't know how we're supposed to find anyone to take to the Yule Ball with all these teachers following us around though," Ron grumbled, changing the subject.

Harry could have mentioned that it hadn't stopped Ron from dazedly asking out Fleur Delacour when the Beauxbatons delegation crossed the path of their herbology class, but he decided against it. Ron had been getting his fair share of friendly Gryffindor taunts for the past few days and he felt a bit responsible that so many people had been there to see it.

"At least when you ask a girl you don't have to say 'would you like to go to the ball with me and Dobby?'" Harry lowered his voice to a murmur so that Dobby wouldn't overhear.

"You haven't even asked anyone, Harry. In fact, all you've done is turn people down," Hermione commented.

"I didn't even know those girls." Flattering as it might be for some people, he wasn't about to go to the Yule ball with some girl he'd never even spoken to before.

"Yeah, and that big Slytherin one, she was–" Ron must have seen the look on Hermione's face because he faltered slightly mid-sentence and made what Harry considered a none too convincing save, "–a Slytherin. Harry doesn't want to go with someone who might be plotting to attack him."

"We don't know it was a Slytherin who imperiused Malfoy."

"Who else would it be? Everyone who hates Harry in this castle is a Slytherin."

"We don't know everyone in the castle at the moment. Besides there's been plenty of guests recently, all the foreign students, the judges for the tournament and the other ministry officials."

"I reckon Malfoy and his mates cooked this whole thing up. All he had to do was get Crabbe or Goyle to imperius him and then it looks like he wasn't responsible."

"It's a bit risky, though. Besides, what about it being whoever put me in for the tournament?"

"That could have been a Slytherin. Malfoy's father would have told him about the tournament during the summer. Everyone who works at the ministry knew about it. That's plenty of time for them to come up with their plan and get your name in the goblet."

"A summer isn't enough time to become so good at magic that you can confuse the goblet of fire."

"It's obviously not impossible because someone's done it. Anyway, there is a Slytherin who's good enough at magic to get around the goblet."

"Who?"

"Snape!" Harry tried hard not to roll his eyes as Ron went on. "He was a Death Eater, so it all makes sense. Death Eaters would have used the unforgivable curses all the time during the war." Hermione was beginning to look like she could be convinced by his train of thought, so Harry decided that it would be a good moment to cut it short.

"He's not the only one who'd know how to cast the imperius curse. Moody knows it well enough."

"He was an auror," Ron replied dismissively.

"But Professor Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape, so much so that he let Harry live with him," Hermione pointed out and Harry nodded gratefully. He realised that his reaction must have looked odd when Hermione caught his eye, puzzled.

"All I'm saying is that Snape fits who they're looking for. He's probably got loads of experience with the unforgivables, he hates Harry, and he's chummy with the Malfoys who hate Harry just as much."

"He's saved my life how many times?" he couldn't help but interject.

"Maybe he was biding his time until he knew You-Know-Who was going to come back. I don't see why you don't think he's capable of it."

"I didn't say he wasn't. I just think the fact he's saved my life is relevant."

"He's the most likely person we can think of, so you should try and steer clear of him. Maybe we could get joint detentions if he picks on you in potions."

"He's not going to kill me in detention; everyone would know it was him. Plus, Dobby's going to be with me the whole time."

"We should be considering more than one option anyway; it being Snape is a bit far-fetched," Hermione put in as they made their way to their seats. Harry knew better than to agree. He'd said enough in support of Snape as it was.

---

S.S.

If this was anywhere near the frustration that Harry felt whenever Draco was mentioned he'd never criticise his attitude again. What did that lunatic have to do to get fired? He cast unforgivables on students, he robbed the school and he threatened its teachers! And still the headmaster was listening to his complaints as if Severus had come to him with mere trivialities.

"The man threatened me," Severus spat but the headmaster merely stared impatiently at him over his half-moon spectacles.

"We've discussed this a number of times already and while I sympathise, I am not inclined to take sides in this conflict between the pair of you."

"This is the first time his threats have been credible. Those foolish aurors are certain to investigate based on what he's told them. I cannot conceive of a good reason why they have not approached me before now."

The headmaster frowned for a moment and seemed to be coming to some sort of conclusion. Not the one Severus was after, unfortunately.

"I brought him to this castle for a reason."

"He believes that reason is to have me imprisoned. They will question me and if they are not satisfied they will ask for permission to use veritaserum." Severus did not need to try hard to convey that he could not, and would not, consent to that.

He would have no secrets left, no foundation on which to continue spying and Harry would either be taken from him by the ministry or taken by Death Eaters. He would not reveal the truth because some madman wanted him imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit.

"I assure you that I will use my own considerable influence to ensure that you are not a suspect."

"The aurors have their own prejudices and systems. They may have enough respect for you not to circumvent your wishes in this castle but their persistence may well lead them to Spinner's End. I will not take veritaserum."

"I will provide you with an alibi, Severus," the headmaster reassured him. "It is the truth that I was with you mere moments before the attack."

"And that I was with Harry," he ground out bitterly.

"I believe I have sufficient wit to deceive the aurors. I requested your presence during our conversation because you had been assisting my research and you are involved in the investigation into who put his name in the goblet." Severus took a moment to mull the suggestion over and considered that it was most likely the best he could hope for to get out of the situation.

"You said you would look into Moody's erratic behaviour...?" he continued his previous line of thought, unwilling to give up the hope that he would banish Moody from the castle.

"He was reacting to what he perceived as an increase in threat from Death Eater activity. In his own way he was trying to ready the students. He is not the ideal teaching candidate and I do not condone his behaviour but I have discussed the matter with him and it is closed."

"The aurors might not consider the matter closed," he replied peevishly.

"Now, Severus."

"I'll need a new home," Severus declared suddenly. "The Dark Lord knows of Spinner's End, the aurors too, no doubt. Even with the layers of spells and protections I would rather Harry not reside there. If the aurors and Death Eaters search for my home outside of Hogwarts and realise that it's now hidden it will appear suspicious to both sides. I can keep up the charade that Spinner's End is my residence outside of Hogwarts and Harry and I will live in another home that is untraceable."

"I may be able to assist you if you are looking for somewhere to move into during the holidays," the headmaster said, apparently having the sudden desire to be helpful.

"I would rather you assisted me by removing Moody before he makes my situation worse. His presence in the castle is of no benefit to Harry," Severus persisted.

"You think that, but Harry's attacker might not. Alastor's reputation may be what keeps this individual from making another bold move."

"His behaviour is getting more and more reckless; he spends the majority of his spare time hounding me. I fail to see how an intelligent threat could be put off by a paranoid ex-auror."

"I would suggest that your animosity is clouding your judgement."

"And I would suggest that the opposite is true," Severus grated, no longer caring that all his communications with the headmaster would most likely be considered impudent at best and disrespectful at worst.

---

He hadn't had the opportunity to see Harry since his brief stay in the hospital wing and he'd hardly heard about what had gone on during his conversation with the aurors. He did appreciate that it would have appeared out of place had he sat in instead of McGonagall but his exclusion still rankled. The week since Harry's attack had passed by with interminable slowness. He was counting the days until the Christmas holidays with a fervour he was certain was unmatched by any witch or wizard in the castle.

Even Draco Malfoy, with a horde of gifts awaiting him, couldn't match Severus' eagerness for the holidays to begin and that blissful moment when he no longer had to worry that Harry could be killed at any moment or the aurors would arrive at his door demanding he take veritaserum.

He took the opportunity to take his recent frustrations out on Longbottom who had the gall to look confused as to why his potion had gone wrong when he added heat to a base of salamander blood and doxy wings. Considering the temper he was in, it would have come as no surprise to anyone that Harry was given a detention that lesson for haphazard dissection of doxy wings. Although, those hadn't been the words he'd used, of course.

"You can stay behind and serve your detention now, Potter," he announced as the class cleared up with even more haste than usual. Longbottom was trembling as he raced to the door and almost fell over his own feet in his hurry to exit, something which usually managed to somewhat cheer him, but with his current stress levels, he couldn't muster up even a smirk.

Luckily for Severus the Head Boy and Girl were making rounds to collect the students and take them to the Great Hall for dinner and he wasn't required to traipse across the castle and back with Harry.

"Leave," Severus ordered the elf, who had dutifully remained with Potter. He was less than impressed when it took a nod from Potter to convince the elf to actually do so, but he managed to refrain from rebuking the creature. He was, supposedly, one of the two members of staff that it was supposed to take orders from.

"You're well, I take it? No problems with your scar?" he asked, gesturing for Harry to sit by his desk instead of settling into the same chair he'd previously favoured during his detentions.

"I've been occluding. As much as I can, at least."

"You're competent enough to deal with a distance attack from the Dark Lord with the condition he's in."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, shrugging.

"Have you noticed anyone behaving any differently around you, anything suspicious?" Severus persisted.

"Well, there's Dobby for a start. He's been following me everywhere, literally, Severus. Then there's the teachers–"

"I'll give you a real detention if you'd prefer," he growled, interrupting Harry's sarcastic rant.

"No, this is all right," he relented. "Come on, you haven't given anyone a chance to do anything."

"Then I'm doing my job, am I not?"

"Yeah, and we'll never figure out who imperiused Malfoy and I'll spend the next three and a half years being followed around by Dobby. There isn't going to be an auror in the castle too, is there?" Harry's face showed the level of distaste he felt at the possibility.

"Knowing you as I do, I'm surprised you feel at liberty to be so ungrateful," Severus commented, choosing to ignore his question completely.

"I am grateful," he insisted. "It's just that I don't think we're ever going to figure out who did this if we don't give them an opportunity to show themselves."

"The answer was no before and it remains so now. You'll just have to control your urges to get yourself killed," Severus commented, his voice heavy with sarcasm. Harry looked like he wanted to disagree but thought better of it.

They lapsed into a tense silence, with Harry making no attempt to speak and Severus using all his efforts trying not to let loose a tirade about idiot Gryffindors not appreciating the measures taken to ensure their safety.

"What's that?" Harry asked after a moment, curiosity overcoming his frustration with Severus. He was looking at a scroll with his own name scribbled over the top corner.

"Ah," he erupted, latching onto an outlet for his ire and ignoring the internal voice telling him he wasn't in the best frame of mind for that particular discussion. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, pulling out the short roll of parchment.

"It's not good then?" Harry asked, reaching over to look at the offending essay.

"No, it's not good. You no longer have the tournament as an excuse for handing in substandard work."

"Wait a minute," Harry interjected, scanning the parchment quickly. "This isn't my potions essay; this is my end of term charms essay." The accusatory glare he flashed at Severus communicated quite clearly what he thought about his guardian interfering in his other subjects.

"You aren't stupid enough to hand in drivel like that to me any longer. Explain yourself," he commanded, enunciating each syllable darkly.

"I couldn't keep up with school and learn occlumency and prepare for the tournament, so I slacked off in charms," Harry replied, not meeting his eyes.

"You 'slacked off' in all your subjects. This, Harry, is a disgrace."

"I can do all the charms; I just don't know the theory."

"'The glacius charm uses the incantation 'glacius' and makes things icy'," he read aloud, snatching up the parchment. "It also makes hot things cold, e.g. it freezes fire.'" He lingered over each word as if savouring the sheer stupidity. "At this point I assume you decided you'd lingered too long on the glacius spell and you begin your highly intellectual ruminations on the colour changing charm," he continued, his voice filled with contempt.

"Don't read it out," he pleaded, cringing. "I kept up with the spells, I'm not as far behind as that makes me sound."

"This makes you sound like Goyle. You'll catch up over Christmas. Your OWLs are next year and I would rather you passed them, or were you planning to live off of your fame and your father's fortune alone?"

"What, until Voldemort kills me?"

"He's not going to kill you," Severus contradicted harshly. "And the more you learn here, the better you'll be able to defend yourself. If living was so important to you, I'd expect you to take your studies seriously."

"I didn't say I wouldn't catch up over the holidays."

"You don't have a choice," Severus snapped, still thoroughly irritated.

"There was something I wanted to ask you," Harry blurted suddenly, breaking another tense silence. "Ron and Sirius have been asking about Christmas... What should I say?"

"What are you trying to ask?"

"What's going on at Christmas?"

"You can't visit Weasley until later on in the holidays as it needs to appear as if you've spent the majority of time with your relatives. As for Black, you're free to spend the day with him if you wish."

Harry appeared to think that over for a moment, his discomfort clearly increasing. "Well, what do you normally do at Christmas? I mean, do you, uh, most people see, you know, their family, so if it's easier..." he trailed off uncertainly.

"Even a babbling beverage wouldn't explain the nonsense you're spouting," Severus replied scornfully. "You've seen me in the castle every Christmas holiday since you entered Hogwarts. What great plans do you imagine I've made that you cannot be a part of? Bearing in mind the sole reason I cannot spend the season as I usually do is because I've become your guardian." He shook his head despairingly.

"I'm trying to be polite."

H.P.

"Do you want to spend the day at home or with Black?" Snape asked impatiently.

"Well, home, but if you don't–"

"Spend Christmas Eve or Boxing Day with Black," Snape interrupted, waving away the rest of Harry's sentence.

"So, we're doing Christmas," he said, his mood finally lightening despite the darkening of Snape's own.

"I do know of the season. We'll have to buy whatever it is you need to enjoy the season. We may as well get you more winter clothes while we're out and you need to sort out your room. We'll do it all in one go as I have no intention of visiting those muggle establishments more than once in the holidays." His lip curled in disgust at just the thought of having to go shopping in the muggle world once again.

Harry winced at the thought of Snape having to get so much on his account.

"What's going on with my room?"

"You haven't made it your own."

That was so not a Snape-ish thing to say that Harry almost laughed.

"It's all right, I'm not that fussed."

"I am, so humour me," Snape said in a tone that brooked no arguments.

"Fine, but I've got jumpers anyway, so you don't have to buy me clothes."

"Enough," he snapped, but despite his short temper Harry couldn't help but persist.

"I don't need–"

Snape actually leaned forward across his desk to snarl at him. "I am a Potion Master at one of the most prestigious institutes of wizarding education in the world. My financial situation may not be the equal of yours, but I can afford to clothe you and buy a damned tree. Do not argue with me about money, are we clear?"

"I'm not saying you can't afford it," Harry replied, mortified.

"Don't say anything."

"Sir, you er, are you all right?" Harry asked. Snape wasn't the only one who could read someone's mood. He may not be some master of legilimency or occlusion, but he could tell when Snape was more agitated than usual. He was on the verge of asking if this was a real detention after all because he'd spent the majority of the last few minutes berating him at every opportunity, but he decided that provoking the man wasn't the best way to handle the situation.

He got nothing more than a raised eyebrow in response. "How is it with Malfoy?"

"It's fine, Harry. I don't think you truly want to discuss it and neither do I for that matter." He gave in to Harry's interest a moment later. "Draco's rather frustrated that he won't be attending the Yule Ball. I've heard of little else from him for the last few days."

Harry found himself disappointed that irritated as Snape was with him, Malfoy wasn't the source of Snape's obvious agitation. Then again, it took more than a whiny little snot like Malfoy to unsettle Snape.

"Hang on, if it's too dangerous for him then surely it must be too dangerous for me."

"I doubt your young lady will thank you for attempting to get out of the ball," Snape replied with a smirk, which widened minutely after a moment. "Ah."

"It's not funny," Harry insisted, crossing his arms. Snape obviously disagreed as for a moment his expression lightened to one of amusement. "I was a bit busy learning occlumency and preparing for the tournament. Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly. "And how come you never told me champions had to dance? And in front of everyone as well."

"Forgive me for having more than your social calendar on my mind. Alternatively, you could be grateful that I saved you from a fate far more terrible than the Dark Lord's clutches. Dancing," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

"It's just– I don't dance, I can't."

"If I understand correctly, you do not wish to dance and yet you're upset that you do not have a partner with whom to do so."

"I didn't say I wanted to dance with her," Harry returned without thinking. "I didn't mean that." He could feel his face flushing with embarrassment. "Can we stop talking about girls? Please?" he begged.

"Certainly, you can tell me about your discussion with the aurors."

"You weren't there," Harry stated accusingly.

"I wasn't permitted. I would have been there if I could."

"I'll tell you about it if you tell me about Malfoy's," he bargained.

"You'll tell me about it either way," Snape replied, but he seemed more amused by the attempt at negotiation than irritated.

Harry yielded and described the conversation to Snape's satisfaction, but he couldn't help wondering what had put Snape out so much that he was so visibly irritated. He seemed even more stressed than when Harry's name was put in the goblet. He felt a bit guilty for wishing that it had been Draco's presence in his quarters that was driving the man into such a foul temper.

"Behave yourself," Snape commanded as he got up to leave, and Harry shrugged.

He'd planned to talk to Snape about loads of things when he eventually got the chance, but seeing the mood he was in, he wasn't inclined to bring anything up that might annoy him even more. Leaving his office, accompanied once more by Dobby, he felt dissatisfied by the conversation, irked that while he couldn't talk to Snape, the Potions Master would go back to his quarters and spend the evening with Malfoy, who had his own bloody family to talk to.

---

S.S.

The presence of aurors in the castle, while irritating at best, would have reassured him that there was some serious action being taken to find Harry's attacker. His own search consisted of considering every likely suspect and slowly crossing each person off his list of suspects until he ran out, and then starting all over again. Instead of feeling reassured, he found himself constantly under the impression that he was being watched, and not only by that disconcerting electric blue orb, but by those two incompetent ministry drones.

Their attempts at following him were anything but subtle and the manner with which they questioned his students left him in no doubt that they intended him to realise their suspicions and they wanted to watch his reaction. Severus gave them nothing more than a contemptuous glance as he continued his routine.

He was more than a little amused when the aurors decided to focus their investigative skill on Longbottom. If he managed to inspire a look that was remotely akin to the expression of terror the boy was currently sporting then he failed to see why he wasn't being hailed as a comedic genius.

The moment came, however, when they followed all their investigative instincts that had been drilled into them through the years of intense and strenuous training that had led them to the highly coveted position of 'auror' in the ministry of magic. With no evidence at all and only the opinion of a deranged ex-auror to go on, they decided to approach him.

"We'd like you to come with us. We have some questions concerning the recent attack on Mr Potter," they said, swooping down on him just as he dropped his sixth-year potions class off at their transfiguration session. The fiendish looks on the children's faces ensured that this story would be spread far and wide by dinner, with the majority of students insisting that Severus had been taken in by force.

"I have no classes for an hour. Follow me to my office," he commanded, smirking as he turned at the disgruntled look on Savage's face.

He led the way at his usual pace, enjoying the hurried clatter of heels behind him as Proudfoot struggled to keep up. He sat himself down behind his desk and settled an ominous glare upon the two aurors as they filed in behind him and took the two chairs he reserved for his students who needed a thorough dressing down.

"Professor Snape, were it not for Professor Dumbledore's more recent testimony in your favour we would have insisted that you accompany us back to the ministry." Severus noticed the allusion to the headmaster's previous testimony and his fingers tightened minutely on the arms of his chair.

"Am I to infer that you are considering me a suspect?"

"If you would allow us to ask the questions, Professor."

Severus responded with a sarcastic sweeping gesture that said be my guest.

"We're given to understand that you and Mr Potter have a less than positive student-teacher relationship."

"That was not a question, but I presume you're asking whether I would consider that statement to be true. Yes, we have a less than pleasant rapport."

"What is it about Mr Potter that you find so objectionable?" Proudfoot asked, tapping that irritating muggle pen against her cheek. The question was loaded with condemnation, as if just disliking Harry should be enough to have you locked up for a very long time.

"His attitude to learning," Severus began. "His disregard of school rules, evidence for which you can find in his school record."

"So you deny that your dislike of him is personal in nature?"

"It is his personality that causes him to behave in that manner, is it not?"

"So it has nothing whatsoever to do with your well-known hatred of James Potter?" The smugness of Proudfoot and Savage's faces irked Severus more than the question.

"I fail to see how this is relevant to your investigation. I dislike the boy; however, I have never tried to kill him. If you've spoken to the headmaster, then you would know that I have saved his life on more than one occasion."

"We are aware of all relevant facts, Professor Snape," Savage nodded and Severus suppressed a snort of derision. "Of course the situation has changed in the last year. Black has escaped Azkaban and perhaps other members of your group have seen that as a beacon of hope."

"My group?" Severus repeated in a dark tone, and he leaned forward in his seat. "The Dark Lord has not returned. We would know if that was the case." He brandished the remains of the ugly mark on his arm as evidence. "Any Death Eater who managed to avoid Azkaban would not be foolish enough to assume Black's escape to mean anything, nor would they risk the positions and trust they have spent the last thirteen years earning."

"That includes you?"

"I'm no Death Eater."

"If you could tell us where you were and what you were doing at the time of the attack?"

"I was in a classroom on the first floor with the headmaster and Potter. The headmaster left and I remained to discuss Potter's poor performance in my class. He exited the room before I did, so I wasn't present at the moment of the attack, but I was near enough to come to his aid."

"Why did you need to be present during the conversation between Mr Potter and the headmaster?"

"I was somewhat involved in the headmaster's attempts to free him from the tournament and I am also one of the members of staff most involved in the search for whoever put his name in the goblet. The headmaster felt my presence was necessary."

"You've been unsuccessful so far in your search for the culprit?" It was phrased as a question, but all Severus heard was the accusation.

"As have you."

"We've been informed that Mr Malfoy is residing with you at the moment," Savage said, changing tack. He stared silently until either of them saw fit to form an actual question. "Would you say that you have a close relationship with the Malfoy family?"

"No, I would say that I am a trusted acquaintance."

"Young Mr Malfoy is in regular contact with you. He would think nothing of it if–"

"My voice would not have been the one in his head. It is far from forgettable and I have been his head of house for more than three years. Even under the imperius curse he would recall it with ease."

"Mr Malfoy is not the first student you've taken in of late. How would you say you and Mr Potter got on during the summer?"

"It was a trying experience as I'm sure you can imagine. This has no relevance to your investigation. It is not a crime to dislike Harry Potter, though you may well wish it to be. I am a busy man, so unless you have any pertinent questions, I think we’re done here."

"We would like to eliminate you from our enquiries."

"You have yet to tell me what it is you suspect me of doing."

"We are investigating both the attack on Mr Potter and the alleged imperius of Mr Malfoy. We have been given information that leads us to believe you are involved."

"The only way I could be involved is if you believe that I cast the imperius curse on Draco. I was under the impression that you still suspect that he's lying."

"We're pursuing all possibilities, Mr Snape. It would be easier for our office and yourself if you would submit to an interrogation under the influence of veritaserum."

"I can think of few things that I would rather do less," Severus hissed, refusing to maintain the polite façade. He was a professor and he'd be referred to by the title he'd earned. "I'm certain you can muster up enough intellect between the pair of you to find the door."

He waved his wand to slam the door behind the aurors, inadvertently sending it crashing into Igor Karkaroff's fist as he made to knock.

"Eavesdropping, Igor?"

"No, I need a word with you. In private," he answered, healing his hand with some difficulty.

He was tempted to turn him away. The aurors had turned back to watch the exchange between the two ex-Death Eaters and meeting with Igor hardly made him look any more innocent. He opened the door just enough for Karkaroff to enter, hoping that this discussion was going to be worth his while.

Half an hour later, he waved his wand to bang the door shut so hard that that it ricocheted out of its frame. Karkaroff was an utter waste of oxygen. He feared the return of the Dark Lord and was obsessed with his mark. The only thing that Severus had succeeded in doing was to waste thirty minutes of his time and increase the aurors suspicions by fraternising with another ex-Death Eater.

---

H.P.

"They're saying the aurors had to conjure shackles!"

"I heard he's gone to Azkaban..."

"... going to be sacked at least."

"Do you think we still have to do that potions essay?" Ron asked with an excited grin, buoyed by the chatter of all the other students.

"What?" Harry said automatically, irritated at the interruption as he tried to eavesdrop on the surrounding chatter. "I'm going to get ready upstairs."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now," he replied, realising how odd he looked being the only boy rushing to get changed two hours before the ball.

He shut the dormitory door behind him and called Dobby. The elf appeared with his usual 'crack'. "Can you do me a favour?"

"Dobby would be doing anything–"

"Yeah, thanks," he interrupted, not wanting any of the other boys to burst in before he'd finished. "Go to the dungeons and find out what's going on with Snape."

"You is wanting me to spy on Professor Snape?"

"No, you can ask him outright. Just find out what happened with the aurors today."

"Hey, mate. You all right?" Ron said, his head appearing round the dormitory door just as Dobby disapparated, casting Harry a last doubtful look. "Where's your bodyguard off to?"

"Probably to report to Dumbledore," Harry lied quickly.

"So, let’s see those dress robes you were moaning about," Ron asked, evidently deciding to stick around.

He pulled them out of his trunk with distaste and shook them out.

"Why did you get them in Slytherin colours?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't have all the silver bits, but I can't change the colour," he said despairingly.

"Mine are still worse," Ron replied, tugging a lacy monstrosity out from his own trunk. He was right. The best that could be said about them was that they had previously been worse. Ron had evidently been trying to improve his robes by taking off the worst of the ruffles.

"I don't know a lot about dress robes or wizard fashion but I'm guessing they're not good."

"We probably do need some time to make these wearable. I've been trying to get this lace off for ages."

"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said, reappearing loudly at Harry's elbow.

"Hold on," Harry said, raising his arms as if he could stop Dobby from delivering his message.

"Professor Snape was not happy. No, sir, not happy at all. But Professor Snape is not arrested and is still in the dungeons, if that's what Harry Potter wants to know."

He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning to look at Ron. "Uh...I thought I should check out whether it was him or not. You know, like you said."

"You sent Dobby to spy on Snape?" Ron said, aghast. "And he knows?"

"The worst he can do is try to kill me."

"He would actually kill you."

"Prophecy," Harry reminded him. "Anyway, now we know it's not him, so I think I'm safe."

"We don't know it's not him," Ron replied as Harry threw on his dress robes over his muggle clothes. "All we know is that he wasn't arrested. He'd kill you just for sending Dobby to spy on him."

"We've got bigger problems than Snape. I look like a Slytherin mascot!"

Ron's deepening look of horror as he took in his robes did nothing to make him feel better. Snape was not funny; he was a right arse sometimes. Green and silver sodding dress robes!

"Do you think Hermione can get the silver off?" None of the charms he tried did anything and he was getting desperate. He'd actually contemplated using his ink on the silver edges, no matter how stupid it looked.

"Dunno, she hasn't been any help getting the lace off mine."

"This is going to be a riot," he said gloomily as they headed down the stairs to the common room.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Parvati as soon as he spotted her chatting to Lavender by the portrait. She looked a little put out but said that she'd gotten ready and left ages ago.

"Are your dress robes supposed to be a joke or ironic or...?"

"No," he replied shortly. "You look nice," he offered, partly just to make up for snapping at her in the first place.

"We're meeting Padma outside the great hall," she told Ron, obviously deciding it was best not to comment on Ron's robes at all.

Harry doubted Dobby was having any trouble keeping an eye on him, seeing as he refused to get up from the table he and Ron had chosen near the food and drink. In his own way it was his favour to the elf after making him brave Snape's anger.

Harry tuned out Parvati and Padma's gossip about how different Hermione looked and who had turned up with who. Ron seemed just as disinterested but for a vastly different reason; his mood had taken a nose dive the instant Hermione entered the hall on Krum's arm. He'd scowled through the champion's opening dance and sent dark looks at the quidditch player when he held onto Hermione's hand long after the first song ended. Harry soon stopped attempting to draw him into conversation and settled for folding his sleeves back to cover the worst of the silver.

Up at the top table Snape looked like he was having about as much fun as Harry was. He noted with irritation that the man wasn't even wearing dress robes. He seemed to be quite abruptly shutting off all attempts to engage him in conversation and Harry noticed after a moment that he and Ron had done the same with their dates, both of whom were being successfully chatted up by some boys from Beauxbatons. He found that he didn't even care that he was being conversationally outperformed by two boys who didn't have full command of the English language.

Ron didn't bat an eyelid when Padma and Parvati left the table, still far too busy staring at Hermione and Krum dancing. Harry's own evening began to look up when he realised he wouldn't actually have to dance with anybody, but seeing as Ron wasn't able to glare at Krum and hold a conversation, Harry was just trying not to stare too obviously at Cho Chang as she danced with Cedric Diggory.

"I don't know what she sees in him," Ron muttered, scowling darkly.

"Eh?"

"Krum. Just because he's some rich, famous quidditch player. Look at them."

"I've already seen them," Harry replied, not finding Hermione's choice of date quite as enthralling as Ron obviously did.

"Where're Padma and Parvati?" Hermione gasped, suddenly appearing at their table.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged.

"You two aren't dancing?"

"Yeah, no. I'm not going to do that," he replied pulling his drink in front of himself defensively. Ron just stared back stonily.

Krum appeared at her side brandishing drinks. Hermione caught Ron's eye, put them straight down on the table and pulled Krum back onto the dance floor.

"I think you glaring at her so much is just making her dance with him more," Harry commented, slightly worried that Ron might burst a vein testing his death glare on the twirling dancers.

"He might have been the one who imperiused Malfoy for all we know. He's from Durmstrang! Don't you think it's a bit suspicious that he's here with Hermione?"

Harry shrugged. He had a feeling Ron's problem was more that he was Hermione's date, and not that he was potentially dangerous.

"You never said when you're coming over at Christmas. You are coming right?" Ron asked abruptly, finally taking his eyes off Hermione.

"Um. I have to go back to the Dursleys' for the holidays but hopefully I'll be able to come to yours for a bit," he replied uncomfortably, picking at the edge of his sleeve.

"You know you're not a great liar, right?" Ron commented, watching him with a sad look. It just had to be this that Ron found more interesting than glaring at Krum.

"I'm not lying," he denied automatically, but without heart.

"Come on, Harry. You've been keeping something from us and it's not what you told us about the other day. Hermione didn't want me to say anything but after you told us about the– you know. Well, if you can tell us about that then why are you hiding something else?"

"I don't know why you think I'm hiding something. Maybe I just don't want to talk about Christmas."

"I'm not going to go off on one, but we've been best friends for years. I know when you're not being yourself."

"If I've not told you guys about it then I obviously can't." His eyes guiltily sought out Snape as if he could hear and would find out that Harry was such a terrible liar.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't," he insisted. "Look, I want to tell you, but I just can't."

"Is it about Sirius?" Ron asked, lowering his voice even further.

"Don't try to guess. Look, it's not that I'm not allowed to tell you. I'm not, but if it was just that then I'd do it in a second, to hell with the rules. Just trust me that when I can, I'll tell you."

"All right," Ron reluctantly agreed. "But only because I owe you and as long as you're not being threatened or anything?"

"No, it's not anything bad. Don't get Hermione all worked up and don't let her try to work it out either."

"I'm not sure I could stop her if she set her mind on it."

"Then don't set her mind on it."

The evening passed by slowly even if Ron managed to cheer up enough to have an actual conversation.

"It's got to be someone in here," he said returning to the table with pumpkin juice and some snacks. "I had to push through two snogging Slytherin couples to get those," he added, nodding at the cakes.

"Thanks. Who else other than Snape?" Harry asked.

"All the other Slytherins and Krum," Ron replied, picking his cake apart with more violence than was necessary. "Oh yeah, and Karkaroff."

"Who put my name in the goblet or imperiused Malfoy?"

"Or both."

"We should rule out Crabbe and Goyle. They're too thick to do any of that."

"Well, they're not the brains behind anything but they might have helped."

"Potter," Moody nodded, stumping past their table on the way to grab a drink. "You want to keep an eye on your elf guard."

"Huh?" Harry replied without thinking, suddenly realising that he couldn't see the elf at all. "Thanks, sir," he called. "Come on, we need to go find him." He didn't want to draw attention to the fact that he couldn't find Dobby. For one thing, if Snape found out that he wasn't quite as attentive as he expected he might not let Harry finish term without a troll guard and, for another, it was probably a bad idea to point it out to anyone planning another attack.

"Do you think someone's tried to get rid of him?" Ron asked, skirting past a gaggle of giggling witches.

"I hope not," Harry said. He weaved quickly through the crowd, his gaze low, searching for Dobby. "I can't see him in here," he muttered in a low voice.

"Neither can I. Call him."

"Not here, there's too many people," he said, heading for the exit and getting caught in the linked hands of the dancing couples.

"Whoa!" Brought up short, he almost collided with Snape at the doors of the Great Hall.

"Going somewhere?" he asked menacingly, barring the doorway.

"Outside for a second, sir," Harry replied.

"Harry, hold on, he's here. Oh!" Ron yelped, his eyes bugging out of his head as he caught sight of Snape.

"The Yule Ball ends in an hour. You will leave with the rest of your house led by your prefects. Twenty points from Gryffindor for attempting to circumvent rules put in place for your safety." His voice oozed satisfaction at the loss of points for Gryffindor and Harry didn't doubt that if he gave him an opportunity he would take more points, guardian or not. "Another fifty for your elf's presence in my quarters this afternoon."

Harry opened his mouth to argue when McGonagall appeared alongside Snape.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked, turning a stern gaze on Snape as well as Harry and Ron.

"No, ma'am," Harry denied, hoping to avoid losing even more points.

"Seventy points!" Harry raged as soon as they were out of earshot, the loss driving Moody's odd comment straight out of his mind.

S.S.

"I don't understand why they're coming again," Draco complained, which was a regular occurrence even after the Yule Ball had come and gone. He reasoned that this was because he was usually surrounded by elves devoted to his every whim. Knowing that didn't make his whining easier to tolerate.

"I don't believe they'll do more than ask the same questions as last time. I wouldn't be concerned."

"I'm not concerned. My father is hardly going to let them exclude me when he pays their wages."

Severus was hard pressed not to roll his eyes. He had taken to pacing the living room in his stress. Those aurors were not seeking to get into his quarters merely to speak to Draco again. It was an indirect attempt to press him, he was sure of it.

"Conduct yourself as a Slytherin and you will be fine."

"Is it likely these two will lift this ridiculous restriction? I've already missed the ball because of Potter."

"You missed the ball because of your father. The aurors have banned you from attending the same classes as Potter, which is a kindness. If only we could all be so lucky."

"I couldn't go to the ball because Potter didn't smash his head hard enough when he fell down those stairs," he griped maliciously.

"Put on your uniform," Severus snarled, stalking over to where Draco was fixing his hair with a conjured mirror and proceeding to yank it roughly out of his grasp. "You may well find yourself with a far worse fate than exclusion if you utter anything like that again."

"I wouldn't say it in front of the aurors, Severus," Draco grumbled, making himself scarce. He was looking forward to the end of term when he would no longer need to put up with those comments in his home. They certainly put into perspective the things Harry needed to say to vent his spleen against the other boy.

H.P.

Harry was summoned to the headmaster's office the day before term ended. He reassured his friends that no, he had no idea what it was about, and with Dobby chirpily stalking his steps, and the Head Boy leading, he was taken to the stone gargoyle that guarded the spiral staircase. Thankfully, he was abandoned there at Dumbledore's request.

"Harry! How are you?" Sirius almost bellowed, welcoming him with open arms as he opened the door.

"Sirius, hi" he replied, smiling in surprise. "I just wrote to you. Did you get my letter?" He'd waited ages before sending a reply. He hadn't wanted to tell Sirius that he wasn't going to spend Christmas with him. Over a week of pure procrastination had gone by before he'd finally got his letter written and sent.

"I got it yesterday. I'm sorry I haven't been in to see you since your fall. Albus made me wait. He said it wouldn't be possible to arrange anything until term ended and seeing as you were healed by the time I was even told about it..."

"Oh yeah, because of the security," Harry nodded. "You can't do anything in secret here. I've only seen Snape once since the hospital wing." He had a thought. "Wouldn't it have been easier to see me at home– at Snape's?" Harry corrected himself guiltily.

"I wanted to see you sooner rather than later, and without Snape breathing down my neck." Apart from a slight wince, Sirius managed not to comment on Harry's wording.

"What's this about Christmas then?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said fidgeting with his sleeves.

"Christmas Eve or Boxing Day, you said?"

"Uh, yeah." Harry was saved from saying any more by a knock on the door. Sirius instinctively took refuge in his dog form as the door swung open. It was only Snape though. Sirius growled and promptly returned to human form.

"Black," Snape nodded.

"You get him for every holiday and you want Christmas."

"I've earned Christmas with him," Snape answered.

He turned to Harry, holding out a paper clip. "The portkey should activate fifteen minutes after the train arrives into King’s Cross. Be discreet," he ordered.

"See you tomorrow," Harry replied, still irked about the seventy points that Snape took.

"He's got me being followed around everywhere since the attack," Harry complained. He needed to vent his frustrations to someone about Snape, even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't say anything bad about Snape to Sirius. "You'd have thought I was completely helpless."

"No one thinks that."

"He does. And he took seventy points from me the other day. Seventy," he said, settling into one of Dumbledore's chairs. Sirius looked pleasantly surprised that Harry was doing something other than praising Snape and seemed to be basking in the negativity.

Harry made a point not to ask about Remus, who he'd heard from even less than Sirius, and he was certain Remus had regular access to quill and parchment. He might not always like how much fuss Severus made over his safety, but it really showed up how little Remus cared that he'd hadn't asked after him in the last couple of weeks.

Sirius claimed to be looking forward to spending the holidays somewhere other than the caves near Hogwarts and refused to listen to Harry's pleas to find somewhere more comfortable further away. He'd taken Harry's last attack as further evidence that he needed to be ready at all times in case he was needed.

Even though Harry knew he was due to see him over Christmas, he was sad to go back down to his dormitory and finish packing for the pointless train journey the next day.

---

Snow was falling heavily as the students dashed from the carriages to the train, dragging or hovering their trunks, owls, and cats as fast as they could to avoid going numb from the cold.

"Warming charm," Ron suggested, using wingardium leviosa to shove his trunk into the overhead rack.

"Or that blue fire thing," Harry agreed. He had resorted to rubbing his hands together to keep warm and it wasn't really doing the trick.

"Or one of you could do it," Hermione said, even as she conjured the fire between the three of them.

"You're the best at it though."

They spent a couple of hours talking about what they were going to do over Christmas, with Ron looking a bit dubious at Hermione's plans. Harry didn't offer any suggestions of what he'd be doing and neither Ron nor Hermione pressed him. In all that time no Slytherins came past to taunt them. In fact, the corridor was quiet and the trolley had yet to go past – a fact that Ron and Harry had noticed for the past hour.

"There's three teachers on the train. I'm dying for a cauldron cake, do you reckon I can get around Sinistra?" Harry asked, hanging out of their carriage. "It's not worth getting the cloak out for cake, is it?"

"Yes. Get me some chocolate frogs as well," Ron asked, rooting around his cloak pockets for sickles and knuts.

"Honestly, you two. Just wait until the trolley gets down here. We're only allowed in here alone as long as we stay together. If you go out, you'll come back with Professor Sinistra."

"Hey, ask Dobby to get us something."

"I'm not supposed to send him on errands and I'm not calling him out onto the train unless we actually need him. Wait a minute. Neville! Neville! Are you going down to the trolley?"

"Uh, no," he replied, coming to a stop outside their compartment. "I was looking for you, actually. I overheard some of the Slytherin's talking at the Yule Ball and it sounded like they were going to try something when you get off the train. They're all pretty mad that Malfoy could get expelled."

"Well, then I definitely shouldn't get cake from the trolley down their end of the train."

"The Gryffindors are all getting off the train together. We thought we'd all back you up this time."

"Ah," Harry replied with a slight wince. "Actually, um, that's really nice of you guys but I don't want everyone to get in trouble on my account..."

"They won't try anything if we're all there, so we won't get into trouble. Everyone's really keen on showing solidarity. We've been planning this for a couple of days. Loads of us were there when you fell."

"Yeah but...I'm going back to the, uh, Dursleys," he said uncomfortably. "You guys can't all be there when I meet them."

"Oh. Sorry, Harry."

"Look, if you can't stop them just get them to agree to leave me with the Weasleys, all right?" Harry begged. He was either going to disappear from the midst of all the Gryffindors or miss his portkey at this rate.

"Is Neville getting us stuff from the trolley?" Ron immediately asked when Harry slipped back into the compartment and shut the door behind them.

"No. I need to tell you something." Harry explained about the portkey and the Gryffindors' plans to protect him as they get off the train.

"So you want us to help you use a portkey but you won't tell us where it'll take you."

"It'll take me to the Dursleys."

"We know you aren't going to the Dursleys or you would have just said that in the first place," Hermione said, sharing a look with Ron.

"I'm telling you about the portkey and I'm not supposed to. I can't tell you everything," he exclaimed, looking over to Ron as well.

"So you're doing something over Christmas that you can't tell anyone about..."

"Hermione, don't try to work it out. Please."

"Why can't you tell us?" Hermione asked, watching him closely.

"Because it's not just my secret. Look, when I can tell you I will."

"So you're not going back to the Dursleys over Christmas?"

"Everyone has to think I am," he conceded. "It's really important."

"You can trust us, with this and whatever it is you won't tell us," she said vehemently and Ron nodded.

"I know that. I’ll tell you as soon as I can. Are you going to help me out or not?"

They didn't look happy about it, but they agreed that if Harry was certain it was a good idea, then they would help him discreetly use his portkey. Hermione told him to hide his invisibility cloak on him, ready to use when he'd said his goodbyes to the other Gryffindors, who now surrounded his compartment, waiting as the train began to slow down and pull into King’s Cross.

"Those Slytherins'll have a time of it getting through all of us," Seamus shouted out as they trooped off the train like some sort of honour guard with Harry, Ron and Hermione caught in their midst. It wasn't a smooth disembarking by any means. There were so many Gryffindors trying to be helpful that half the time they were tripping over each other trying to get through the train doors.

Harry caught sight of a rather vicious group of Slytherins of all different years sending the group irritated looks as they walked along the platform.

"Them?" he asked Neville with a nod, recognising at least half of the Slytherin quidditch team as well as Nott and Zabini who were still eyeing them all warily and making no attempt to find their families amongst the crowds.

"And them," he answered, pointing to another group of Slytherins who hadn't been able to make it down to their half of the train in time. They all looked rather watery eyed and dazed.

"We put sneezing powder in their compartment when we saw they'd left their luggage behind," Fred said with a grin. "George is doing their compartments now," he said nodding to the first group.

"Ha," Harry laughed. That was incredibly tame for the Weasley twins, but he figured that they were trying to respect that he didn't want them all to get into trouble on his account.

The atmosphere at the station was one of confusion as a large portion of the students avoided meeting their parents to deliver Harry safely to the Weasleys and to stare down any straggling Slytherins. It was all a bit overwhelming and thoroughly unnecessary, but Harry appreciated the gesture.

"Thanks for this, guys. Have a good Christmas," he managed to get out before being crushed into a hug by Mrs Weasley.

"Oh, Harry, we've all been so worried," she gushed.

"If that lot want to attack one of us, they'll have to go through all of us," one of the Gryffindors yelled as the students slowly began to detach themselves from the group to find their own families.

"Hear, hear," cheered a few of the younger ones, Ginny included.

"We did invite you for Christmas. We thought you might not like to be in that castle what with everything that's happening."

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley. I have to go to the Dursleys though."

"Mum, let him breathe," Ron exclaimed and Harry was mercifully released. Hermione helped him throw on his cloak and pull his baggage over to a hidden corner.

"Write to us," she whispered as the Weasley children took a moment to be greeted by their parents.

"I will. Have a good Christmas," he managed to gasp out before being whisked back home.

---

He hit the ground with a thump, followed by a clatter as Hedwig's cage tumbled down alongside him. His fall had been cushioned by unusually long strands of grass.

Snape yanked him upright with a firm grip on his forearm, muttering, "quickly," in a low voice.

"We're not home," Harry pointed out with confusion, turning his suspicious gaze on Snape. They were in an empty and wildly overgrown field. There was nothing in the distance in any direction other than some hills half concealed by fog and the rain.

"Your powers of observation simply astound me," Snape drawled, still speaking quietly. He gestured for Harry to follow him but stopped, catching sight of his expression. "I have a potion in my pocket that I created for you using what is technically considered dark arts. It is me."

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked, dragging his trunk with difficulty through the long grass.

"We've had a change of address," Snape answered, handing him a slip of parchment and casting a spell to shield it from the rain. As soon as he finished reading, a small, dilapidated house emerged from the grass looking as if it had been there all along. It was older than Spinner's end and made of stone. It wasn't just surrounded by tall, wild grass; it was covered in so much ivy that made it look like nature was trying to swallow the place up.

"What happened to the other house?" he asked. He cast a doubtful look at the structure before him, even as Snape used his wand to cut down a length of ivy blocking the front door.

"The aurors are interested in my whereabouts and I'd rather it didn't appear as if I was hiding from them. Not to mention that Spinner's End was known to various Death Eaters before the Dark Lord fell so it would be convenient to use as a base when I begin spying again. If either group begin investigating me, I cannot have you in the house."

"So you got this house because of me."

"No," he disagreed, shutting the front door behind the pair of them and blocking out the majority of the light. "I had to buy a house because of decisions that I made and a series of unfortunate circumstances."

The front door opened into a shadowy room, only made dark due to the overgrown plants covering the windows. There were two worn looking chairs and a bookcase that didn't look as sturdy as it ought to for the number of books Snape had stacked onto it. "Come," he gestured, opening a door on the opposite side of the room. "This one is your room, but you can change it over Christmas."

The man had made an effort to make this room look more welcoming than the last. He recognised his bed as the one from Spinner’s End and Snape had cleared away the vines covering his window.

"Sir," he protested again. Guilt crept over him as he stood in his new room. Snape had gotten another house on his account.

"Harry," Snape mimicked, as he settled Hedwig's cage onto his desk.

"You have to let me help. I've got money."

"That is not how this arrangement works. I'm your guardian; I provide for you," Snape said as if this was a conversation that he had both expected and planned for.

"Yeah, and I've been better about the clothes and the school books, but this is a house."

"You need to consider what you can bear to accept from me," he said seriously, rounding on Harry. "You had no problem accepting my assistance when you were sick. I heard no complaints when I put my own research aside to make an illegal potion that you have had no cause to use as of yet. There were no arguments about the lengths I went to in order to get you pulled from that tournament or to assist you in learning spells or to give up my evenings teaching you occlumency."

"I don't know how to pay you back for all that," Harry started, dismayed.

"I don't want you to pay me back. I'm merely pointing out that you’ve accepted those parts of my role as your guardian, and this is another. The other house wasn’t safe enough."

He didn't disagree with him but he couldn't let it go either. Snape just didn't understand. "The Dursleys never let me forget how much it cost them to look after me; I don't want to be a burden on you too. I can pay my own way."

"Those muggles have warped your views. Do you think they would have loved you had they been compensated for taking you in?"

"No," he admitted. "They would have liked the money, though. I know you think you have to pay for me and I'm really grateful that you're willing to, but I don't want you to. It's your money."

"I'm positive you're being deliberately obtuse. I enjoy seeing you get what you need. I do not enjoy having the same arguments with you."

"You've already done enough for me. You don't need to do this too."

"I'm not doing you a favour, you irritating little twit. I want you to live with me, I want to provide the things you need and I want you to unpack your things in your room and make some attempt to feel at home. I've bought you a damned Christmas present, do not attempt to reimburse me for that as well."

S.S.

Severus knocked twice on the door despite it being open already. "That wasn't quite how I intended to welcome you home."

"I wasn't trying to start an argument," Harry shrugged, shutting his now empty trunk and attempting to kick it under the bed.

"I knew the house would make you feel uncomfortable," Severus admitted. "Be that as it may, you need to see the rest of it."

There wasn't a lot left to show, only the kitchen, his own room and the bathroom all on the same floor. It was a thoroughly unexciting house, but he'd been pleased to acquire it. It was a relief not to have to live in Spinner's End for the next few years. Despite Harry becoming oddly attached to the house, he still had no love for the place.

"There's no potions lab," Harry commented, staring around the room for another door.

Severus shrugged. It was a minor irritation for now. "I've considered putting in a basement. It would mean perfecting a few construction spells, but I don't imagine it will be too much trouble."

Harry nodded but Snape got the impression that he wasn't truly listening. After a moment, Harry confirmed his suspicion. "Sir? Ron and Hermione know I'm not with the Dursleys. The rest of Gryffindor found out that some of Slytherins were planning something for when I got off the train, so they wanted to look out for me. Anyway, I needed some help being discreet with the portkey and they figured out that I wasn't going to use it to go to the Dursleys.

They know I've been hiding something and I wouldn't be surprised if Hermione worked at least part of it out." He shrugged apologetically and steadfastly avoided Severus' eyes, waiting for Severus to let loose and berate him for his mistakes.

"Is there anything else?" Severus questioned, careful to keep his tone even.

"No, I don't think so. They think it was you who imperiused Malfoy and put my name in the goblet."

What a completely unimaginative conclusion to come to. At least their suspicions of him would work in his favour; they would never suspect that Harry would live with a man that they believed guilty of his attempted murder.

"Merlin," Severus muttered. "Consider yourself immensely lucky that your friends are as foolish as the aurors employed by the ministry. Do not even think about telling them a word more."

"I know, I won't," Harry replied, still holding himself stiffly as if expecting much more to be said on the matter.

H.P.

This Christmas holiday was off to a great start. Snape would probably rather spend his holiday with Malfoy.

"Eat something," Snape ordered, handing him a plate.

"What happened to eating at the table?"

"I'm relaxing the rule to celebrate your homecoming."

"Thanks," Harry laughed, oddly touched by Snape's attempts to be kind to him despite his bad mood.

"Here," he said, hovering a box over to Harry and dropping it at his feet.

"What's this?" he asked, leaning down to have a look inside.

"Decorations. I hear you enjoy Christmas. Go mad."

 

S.S.

"We've got loads of green and silver left." Harry stood in the middle of the room, his face adorned with a satisfied smirk as he nudged the box of decorations towards Snape with his toe. The room was covered in red and gold tinsel and gaudy knickknacks that must have belonged to one of Severus’ grandparents.

"Was there no room left to put the rest up?" Severus replied, feigning disinterest.

"Too much, then?"

Severus shrugged. Any of this tinsel nonsense was too much as far as he was concerned but he wasn't going to give Harry the satisfaction of hearing that was his opinion, not when he was so obviously baiting him for a reaction.

"Well, if you're fine with it then I guess it's staying as it is..."

He didn't reply, instead banishing the remains of the box and summoning a stack of marking that he was keen to get out of the way. "You're really not going to say anything?" Harry demanded after a moment or two more of silence.

"No, I'm not. Though it's quite obvious you want me to." His preferred red ink landed with a satisfying thunk on the table, followed by the clatter of his sturdiest quill.

"I figured you deserved all this after the whole Yule Ball fiasco," Harry said, seeming satisfied that the red and gold decorations did somewhat bother him.

"The points?" Severus asked absently, beginning the tortuously long pile of marking. The top essay would need a spell just to decipher the awful handwriting... Muggle-born first year, still can't hold a quill.

"I was talking about my dress robes, but the points were a bit much," Harry replied, dropping into the seat opposite.

"You sent an elf to spy on me in my quarters," he said, pausing to level a dark glare across the table. "Last year I would have done a lot worse than take a few points."

"I didn't ask him to spy on you."

"I know that, but I was not alone in my quarters. Think Harry. You knew that Draco was down there with me."

"All right," Harry exclaimed defensively. "It was a stupid thing to do, but for all I knew you'd been arrested. Everyone was saying you'd been taken away by the aurors."

"Having good intentions doesn't excuse idiotic mistakes," he replied hotly, brandishing the quill so that drops of red ink splashed across the table like splatters of blood. "Every time you do something foolish you put this arrangement at risk. If you wish your home to remain with me as opposed to those relatives of yours then use your brain," he said caustically, stressing each individual word.

Harry stared back at him for a moment, lips clamped together in a furious line and Severus was certain he was holding back a few choice comments. Predictably, he wasn't able to control himself for longer than it took Severus to scratch out a few fair observations at the top of what he noted was a considerable waste of parchment.

"If Malfoy wasn't in your quarters then it wouldn't have been a big deal. I needed to know whether or not you'd been arrested."

"The headmaster would have informed you if anything had happened to me. This is not about Draco; it is about discretion."

"I knew Dobby was supposed to report to you anyway. I just wanted him to find out if you were okay."

"They will take you away if it becomes known that you live with me," he said seriously, quelling with difficulty a flash of anxiety at the thought of being forced to take veritaserum by the aurors. He could tell by the child's expression that his words had the desired effect, and deciding not to labour the point, he resumed his marking.

"We need a discreet way to communicate, then," Harry announced after a moment. "And what did the aurors want, anyway?"

"That is none of your concern." He hardly wanted to reveal that he was the auror's prime suspect at this point in time. The boy didn't need any more stress on top of what had already been a difficult term.

"Yes, it is."

"Do not answer back to me," he said, raising his voice slightly, taking even himself by surprise. "You've got an essay to be getting on with."

"You're really not going to tell me what happened with the aurors?" Harry asked, acting as if Severus hadn't given him a clear instruction.

"I will not repeat myself."

"If it was the other way around, you would want to know."

"You are fourteen and you do not need to know everything. Concern yourself with fourth-year charms," he said, summoning Harry's books and letting them land with a loud thunk on the table, making him jump back in surprise.

"I know they suspect you."

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

"Because something important is going on and you won't tell me," Harry retorted, ignoring the books that had fallen haphazardly in front of him.

"You know enough to be getting on with. Drop it," he ordered and when Harry made to reply, he lost his temper. "You are pushing your luck." He took a deep breath and attempted to rein in his anger and exhaustion. "I have been remarkably patient with you, even as you were foolish enough to reveal to your friends that you are not with your relatives when I specifically forbade it. I will not tolerate you disobeying me again."

"I needed their help because of your Slytherins. I had to tell them," Harry replied, all traces of his earlier contrition and apology gone.

"Out," he growled. "Leave. You are exhausting," Harry seemed taken aback at the dismissal and sending his own scathing look at the books Severus had summoned on his behalf, he stomped out the room, slamming his door shut behind him.

He lapsed into a brooding silence, stretching his legs out for better balance on the rickety chair. He ought not to be so transparent that the boy could see he was withholding information. In truth, he wasn't holding back anything more than his own anxiety. He was frightened, something he hadn't felt in more than ten years.

Proving his innocence would have Harry taken from him and if that were to happen then the boy would have no one, no training, no occlumency, no potion, no guardian... If the aurors became convinced of his guilt he would be taken from the boy and still he would have no guardian or protector. He would be far worse off than before and he would have broken his word; the child would certainly go back to his relatives.

He would not tell the child how precarious their situation had become. He could not add another burden onto those shoulders, not when he knew how heavy it would feel amongst all the others.

It did his nerves no good to have Harry so combative so soon. Aside from trying to work out who in the castle had tried to kill him, teaching the child occlumency and catching him up in his school work, he had intended for the next two weeks to be somewhat bearable. He’d hoped it would go some way to making Harry feel less insecure about his place in his home, but that endeavour was failing miserably.

He was itching to take his anger out on the lengths of tinsel hanging across the furniture. Incinerating the lot of it would certainly ease his frustration but he'd no doubt regret it the following morning, not to mention it would be slightly ridiculous to demand Harry choose more decorations merely because he'd enjoyed seeing the last lot burn.

---

H.P.

He missed Spinner's End. Despite its worn and admittedly bleak appearance, it was Snape's house and there was something he'd found oddly comforting about going back there over Christmas. He knew Snape didn't actually like being there though, so for his sake maybe it was better they'd moved. He could imagine how horrible it would feel to have to live in Privet Drive when he thought he'd be well shot of it.

Though if Snape was enjoying the change of scenery, he wasn't showing it. He'd been surprised the evening before when he hadn't followed him back to his room to hurl his textbooks at him, or at least make sure he got some work done.

That morning, Snape's expression was as grim as he'd ever seen it, and it took a moment before he acknowledged Harry's presence, nodding over a partially unravelled roll of parchment that required all his concentration.

His attempt to slink away unnoticed with his bowl of cereal did catch his attention, however, but instead of mentioning the argument from the evening before he was barking orders about shopping in the muggle world. It occurred then to Harry that he should have realised sooner and escaped quicker; it wasn't as if Snape always wore muggle clothes during the holidays.

It was no wonder he was in such a foul mood if he had that in mind, and Harry's hopeful suggestion that he just forget about the whole thing looked set to turn into yet another argument, so he figured he'd better let that one go. Snape seemed intent on wasting yet more money on things Harry didn't need, which he suspected was his way of making a point about being a guardian, or having enough money, or maybe even some twisted punishment for insulting him by offering to pay his own way. With Snape you never knew.

"This is not going to take all day; you are not going to dither like last time," Snape warned, stomping around the kitchen. He dropped the parchment on the counter by the sink and it caught Harry's eye as it twisted and sealed itself shut with a snap. He turned back to face Snape as the breakfast dishes rearranged themselves in the cupboards with a worryingly loud clatter.

"I wasn't even that bad,” Harry said around a mouthful of cereal. “I let you buy me stuff even though I hated you. No offence," he added as an afterthought, careful to keep his tone neutral. It would do no good to set Snape off while he was so on edge, especially considering that he planned on keeping Snape in a good enough mood that he might be able to get some sort of information out of him. He couldn't help but wonder what Snape could have been reading that had him so preoccupied.

"None taken, I couldn't stand the sight of you. My point is that you aren't going to be difficult," he announced, crossing his arms sternly over his muggle shirt and looming over Harry. "You're getting clothes, you're getting Christmas decorations and we're getting whatever you need for your room."

"You're making this trip sound like a great time. I'm really looking forward to it," Harry replied sarcastically, marvelling at how Snape could make shopping for Christmas decorations sound menacing. "Where are we going anyway? I know we aren't going to muggle London."

"It hardly matters, every muggle shopping establishment is the same," Snape sneered. His refusal to tell Harry even the slightest detail grated on his nerves and he was tempted to be petty and refuse when Snape summoned him over to set his glamour. The Potions Master extricated his wand with some difficulty from the sleeve of his thoroughly ordinary muggle shirt and gestured in a manner that had by now become familiar. A moment later he felt his glamour take hold. "No arguments today, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Severus," he replied, smothering a smirk as the man struggled to get his wand past the button on his cuff. Snape wasn't giving him credit where it was due, not only was he expecting him to be fine with a whole day of shopping, but he'd just bought a house, an actual house because of him and since he'd woken up, he hadn't said a thing about it.

---

S.S.

Harry held on tightly to Snape's arm as they apparated back home. He wasn't keen on apparation at all, even if it was more convenient.

"I don't think Dobby had gone anywhere. Ron found him when you were busy taking a million points from Gryffindor," Harry said, continuing their conversation when he was sure he wasn't going to throw up. He got the feeling Snape was trying to find another reason to tell him off when he started asking about what Harry was doing the night of the Yule Ball.

"The idea isn't that he's visible by your side at every moment.

"Yeah, I know, but Moody made it sound like he was missing, so I was worried. I figured if I called for him in the hall and he didn't come then everyone would know he was missing."

"Moody? What did Moody say to you?" Snape interrupted, pausing in the process of opening the front door.

"I don't know," he shrugged, pushing the door open and slipping past Snape into the house. "Something about needing to keep an eye on him. I didn't know what he meant so when I couldn’t see Dobby, I was worried. He was probably there the whole time and Moody was just pulling that whole 'constant vigilance' thing he does." When he turned back, Snape was still holding the door open, staring at Harry. "Sir, are you all right?"

"What is wrong with you?" Severus seethed, slamming the front door suddenly. For someone who hated shopping, he had been in relatively good humour all day. Harry suspected that was just because he was enjoying winding him up or that he liked having a new set of people to rip to shreds everywhere he went.

"I don't know, but I'm guessing whatever is wrong with me is making you mad."

"I'm angry because you just mentioned, only now, that you were leaving the Yule Ball because of something Moody said to you. What possessed you to keep it to yourself?"

"I wasn't keeping it to myself. You got me distracted with that seventy points from Gryffindor rubbish. Why didn't you just ask why we were trying to leave?"

"You do not have the utter cheek to imply that it is my fault you withheld important information. You know damn well that I'm trying to find out who has been attempting to murder you," he replied, snatching the forgotten shopping bags roughly from his grasp.

"I wasn't withholding it."

"Sit down," Snape interrupted. He pulled out a chair for Harry to sit on, banging it noisily away from the table with such force that it fell over. Harry was surprised it didn't collapse completely when Snape righted it with a slam. "Write out everything that happened that evening, exactly what happened. Then you can write out every unusual interaction you've had with that lunatic, and that includes him casting unforgivable curses on your class."

He slunk tentatively into the seat with a barely audible sigh, not entirely trusting that it would take his weight after the abuse Snape had just subjected it to. He was gripping one of the kitchen chairs opposite Harry so hard his knuckles were turning white.

"What do you need it written out for?" Harry thought to ask as he was about to put quill to parchment. "You're not going to try to get him fired, are you?"

Snape levelled him with a dark glare, too intense for him to tolerate, even after all the practice he'd had over the last three and a half years, and he dropped his gaze back to the parchment to scratch out what he could remember about the evening of the Yule Ball.

"Why do you hate him so much? Just because he used to be an auror?" he asked quietly, this time not looking up from the table as he broke the silence.

"That is an overly simplistic interpretation."

"Why, then?"

"A number of reasons, none of which I care to discuss with you." Harry was tempted to put down his quill and not write another word at that. There were quite a few things Snape didn't care to discuss with him any more.

"It's a bit convenient that the one person you hate most is the number one suspect, but when I suggest it might be the actual person who attacked me, I'm being irrational," he dared to grumble as he wrote out in detail the moment Snape took seventy points from Gryffindor without bothering to ask why they were leaving the hall, or who they'd been looking for.

"It is your safety that is first and foremost in my mind. Don't you dare imply otherwise," he chastised, seeming so offended that Harry immediately regretted his words.

He thought he had a lot to deal with, but he supposed it was practically nothing compared to what Snape had been doing for him throughout term. He took multi-tasking to a new level. It was no wonder Snape was a bit off, but this was a bit dramatic even for him. At least while he was here with Snape there wasn't anything for him to worry about. Really, Snape ought to be a bit more relaxed now that he was home for Christmas. It was pretty unlikely someone could try to kill him while he was here.

On the other hand, maybe he was being incredibly arrogant thinking that Snape's mood was all that dependant on what was going on with him. Yeah, it was a massive inconvenience for Snape to have to keep searching for whoever was trying to kill him now that the tournament was over, but who was he to assume that Snape was worried just on his account? He could just be annoyed because he thought Harry was wasting his time by not telling him things he reckoned were important.

"Write, Potter," Snape snapped suddenly, banging a hand on the table and upsetting his ink pot. Harry pulled back from Snape and the spreading pool of ink. Snape didn't intimidate him, not really, not any more, but even so... He put a little more distance between them. He definitely wasn't in one of those moods where you could say no and get away with it.

Angry as Snape was, he can't have overlooked that they'd be better off using a pensieve, so Harry thought better than to open his mouth and risk winding him up even more. He flinched as something appeared in the corner of his eye while he wrote down what was said the night he'd met Moody under his invisibility cloak. He flushed when he realised it was only the pensieve settling beside him on the table, and that Snape had begun to deliberately keep his distance, hovering a few paces away.

Once he was certain he'd written everything Snape could consider important, he slid the parchment across the table, but the man had disappeared. He returned a few minutes later, holding Harry's confiscated snitch. The mad idea crossed his mind that he'd brought it out to be sadistic and break it right before his eyes, but he simply held it out and placed his wand alongside Harry's temple, waiting for his nod.

Harry stepped out of reach as the last strand fell into the bowl and they watched it settle in silence. Harry didn’t say anything in case Snape went mental again. Moody was evidently a touchier subject than he'd thought.

"It occurred to me that I'd had that for long enough," Snape commented softly, as if to make up for his earlier anger, watching the snitch beat its wings between Harry's fingers. "We've got enough grounds here for you to fly. You'll feel the wards; don't go past them."

Harry took his broom and one of his new jumpers and shut the door behind him in relief. There was a horrendous chill in the air, but it was better to be out than in and he could do a good enough warming charm to keep the worst of the cold at bay. He hadn't even noticed before now that frost had formed over the grass, making it look like a Christmas scene from the front of a card, one of those that ought to have a robin with a scarf on it and a roof covered in snow.

He hummed what he knew of an old Christmas carol as he let his snitch take off. He swung his leg over the broom and took off, flying as high as the wards allowed.

S.S.

He would kill him and not with a simple Avada Kedavra. He knew spells that would make losing an eye and a chunk of his nose look like minor bruising. Practicing illegal curses on children, advising Harry on how to tackle the dragon when it was against the rules, this interaction about the elf. How could he have been so blind? The man wasn't just a raving lunatic; he was actively trying to kill Harry. He was certain of it, absolutely certain of it.

Watching the memories had only convinced him further. It had to be him, and it made sense that he would use Draco. It was almost as obvious that Moody despised Draco as it was that Severus had hated Harry.

He could quite easily go to the castle and confront the man, curse him until he confessed, then curse him until he didn't have the will to beg for mercy. He gripped his wand tightly.

Through the window, he caught a glimpse of Harry as he hovered on his broom, half-heartedly messing around with his snitch. All thoughts of murdering Moody instantly evaporated. He was trying not to get arrested, so he would need a less... satisfying course of action. He needed to convince the headmaster and have that man in Azkaban before Harry returned to Hogwarts. He'd be damned before he let the boy return to the castle with that madman on the loose.

He scratched out an urgent letter to the headmaster and attached Harry's notes. Tempted as he was to hunt the headmaster down personally, he forced himself to use owl post and think more like a Slytherin and less like a hot-headed Gryffindor. Being surrounded by so many of them must be rubbing off on him. Although, certain traits obviously weren't catching. He didn’t want to be the cause of the wary look that had been on Harry’s face before he’d sent him outside. His grand plans to spend a pleasant Christmas with the boy were unravelling in the face of his temper.

H.P.

He looked down, catching sight of Snape leaning against the back door, watching him as he flew. He made no attempt to call him or get his attention, so Harry carried on flying, testing how high he could get before the wards kicked in. The moment he did land on the ground, Snape advanced on him, wand drawn. "I'm a Death Eater. I either want to kill you or capture you. Defend yourself."

"Have you gone mental?"

"Give me your broom; my funds aren't going to stretch to buying a replacement Firebolt," he said, sounding a lot more like himself, which was only marginally reassuring. "Defend yourself," he repeated, snatching the broom with one hand and with the other sending a well-aimed stinging hex.

Harry hissed in pain before drawing his own wand and backing away from Snape, ready to dodge should he cast another hex, but unwilling to let go of his snitch in case he didn't get an opportunity to catch it again that evening. Snape moved fast, but he was barely trying. The Potions Master sent a volley of silent stinging hexes his way, forcing him to throw up a barely effective shield as he rolled out of the way, getting himself tangled in the long grass.

"Weak, Potter," Snape called out as Harry scrambled onto his feet, tripping in the weeds. He didn't reply, Snape would shoot down any excuses he made, focussing instead on dodging. He hopped stupidly to avoid a hex aimed at his foot, but got blasted on the hand as he tried to throw up another shield.

He got hit quite a few more times before Snape let up. He was bent almost double, clutching a stitch in his side and grumbling quite a few choice words about evil, sadistic professors. He hadn't asked Snape to stop though, not once, which he was more than a little proud of. "Shield charms aren't going to be effective against the unforgivables or any other creative curses sent your way."

"I don't know how else to defend myself other than to run away and I can't go past the wards here."

"Then fight back. If I don't have my wand, I cannot hex you." As if Snape was going to let him just hex him back and get away with it. Harry stomped inside, barely feeling the cold after spending half an hour running and jumping all over the grass outside. He rolled up his sleeve, and there were a few raw marks where Snape's hexes had been unexpectedly strong.

Snape motioned him over to inspect the damage himself and handed over a salve for the burns. He took his hand though, seeming particularly interested in the grazes that had accumulated over his skin. "You wanted to learn to heal?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, suddenly a little less irritated about the abrupt training session and Snape's rather worrying mood swings.

"This spell is only useful for cuts, not bruising. If the cut is deep and you aren't successful, you'll hurt yourself when the skin fails to bind and tears open again." That was probably the grossest way Snape could think of to put it, but Harry nodded eagerly. "You won't abuse this knowledge, or hide your injuries from me, or repeatedly heal things without telling me what happened."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know who's hurting you or how you're managing to injure yourself."

"Half the time it'll be quidditch and it's not like I tell you now every time I get hurt."

"If someone has to heal you then I can know when you've been injured. What I don't want is you covering things up or trying to heal things you cannot handle. Yes, sir, are the words you're looking for."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, having a hard time not rolling his eyes.

Snape had him practice the incantation and wand movement so many times Harry was certain his grazes would have healed themselves before he let him have a go.

"Concentrate," Snape warned. Harry did concentrate but it was harder than it looked and his scowl grew more pronounced each time his skin pulled back instead of binding together. The more he failed, the worse it seemed to get until the skin was even bloodier than it had been before he'd started, and Snape pulled out his wand and did the job himself. "Getting frustrated does not help your concentration."

Harry shrugged, annoyed at himself for not managing to heal such a small set of cuts. "Sir, I don't think it's Professor Moody."

"Then it is a good job that it is my opinion that counts and not yours."

"There's no motive. It doesn't make sense."

Snape leaned back in his seat and studied Harry. "Were you aware that your arrival into the wizarding world was awaited with anticipation by a great many of the Dark Lord's followers?"

"Yeah, so they could try to kill me."

"Draco Malfoy tried to befriend you when he realised who you were, did he not? Why do you imagine he wanted to do that?" It was odd to hear Snape ask that without making it sound like he couldn't fathom why anyone would want to befriend him.

"To make it easier for them to get me later, or as a joke or something."

"A hilarious joke that would make. You were an unknown quantity, Mr. Potter. You killed the Dark Lord as a baby and then you were removed from the wizarding world. There were rumours circulating amongst The Dark Lord's followers that you could be a far more powerful replacement."

"That's ridiculous."

"Obviously. You aren't incredibly powerful; you're completely average."

"Thanks, Snape," he replied sardonically. "What's all this got to do with Moody?"

"He would have heard every single one of those rumours and likely the rest of your ridiculous endeavours, the stone, the basilisk..." he sneered.

"That was all luck though," Harry protested.

"He wasn't there," Snape barked. "He doesn't know what was luck and what was not. What he does know is that you can resist both the imperius and the killing curse and you've faced and beaten the Dark Lord on another two occasions."

"So you think he reckons I'm some sort of dark wizard in training?" Harry replied doubtfully.

"He might not reckon anything. The man is paranoid and unstable; there may be no rational explanation for the attacks. Based on your memories and your interactions with him, he is the most likely culprit."

"Why didn't he kill me that night when I was under my invisibility cloak?"

"Because you were in the tournament at that point and if he entered you into it then he did it for a reason."

Harry hummed in reply, not sure what to say that wouldn't set Snape off. "What's for dinner?"

---

S.S.

This was utterly, utterly foolish. He wasn't certain if that was the case because he wasn't accustomed to making gestures worthy of a Hufflepuff or because it truly was an awful idea. He couldn't trust his own judgement; his idea of 'doing what was best' for Harry alienated him and left him with no one to confide in when he needed someone the most. His best hope lay in trusting the muggle text and the knowledge that whoever wrote it knew a significant amount more than he did about parenting.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, hovering beside the door as Severus directed furniture out of his room.

"Come here," he demanded, electing not to answer the question until Harry had joined him. The room was bare except for a pot of paint in the centre of the floor and a couple of muggle paint rollers. Harry glanced around dubiously as if he could detect some sort of trick or deceit. It didn't bode well for this endeavour if Harry was already doubtful, especially when he had his own concerns about following the suggestion of a muggle text.

"You want me to paint the muggle way?"

"We're both doing it," Severus corrected him, rolling up his sleeves.

"But... why?"

"Considering your abysmal grades this term, perhaps I think you could benefit from learning a more practical trade."

"I thought you were just buying all this stuff to wind me up or make a point. I know you can do all this with magic," Harry challenged him, making no move to get involved and appearing not to appreciate Severus' attempt at humour.

"I don't buy things merely to provoke you, no matter what you may think. Not any more, at any rate," he amended, recalling the dress robes. "We're doing it this way."

"It won't be dry by tonight. I'd have to sleep in the living room."

"I'll dry it with magic," Severus countered impatiently.

"You'll dry the paint with magic and you'll move all the furniture with magic, but we have to paint the muggle way."

"I don't appreciate your insolence, especially considering I'm giving up my afternoon to do this with you," he replied coldly.

"I just want to know why it's so important we do it this way," Harry insisted stubbornly.

He hardly wanted to reveal why he thought it was so important he follow this piece of advice in particular or where he had gotten the idea. The fact that he was reading muggle texts on parenting adopted children would no doubt make him feel uncomfortable. Then again, there was no conceivable lie he could think of as to why he had a sudden interest in interior design.

"It's a gesture," he answered stiffly.

"Oh," Harry replied, flushing red all of a sudden and scuffing his shoes against the floor self-consciously. "If this is about the Dursleys–"

"I read that it is important," he interrupted matter-of-factly. "And, in light of how you have been treated by me and your relatives, I agree that you would benefit from someone making an effort to make you feel at home."

"I do feel at home...It's not important anyway, not with everything else that's going on."

"It's important to me. I'm the guardian here and your emotional wellbeing is my responsibility."

"Seriously, stop." Harry screwed up his face in disgust and looked ready to cover his ears with his hands.

"No. I know very well that I hurt you when I allowed Draco to stay in your room."

"Not because it was my room! He tried to kill me and I was the one who wasn't allowed to talk to you or stay with you. He got to live in your bloody quarters."

"Because of circumstance."

"I live with you because of circumstance!"

"You live with me because I want you here. I'm willing to spend an afternoon inhaling the poisonous fumes of this toxic muggle substance, doing manual labour, to make you feel like I want you in my house. And I have to endure ridiculous arguments about whether or not I like Draco more than you. Dear Merlin, Harry!"

H.P.

An alarmed look flashed across Snape's face all of a sudden. "We'll finish this later," he said, with a vague gesture that encompassed Harry and the room in general before stalking over to the fireplace and taking a pinch of floo powder. Harry followed him but didn't get very far before Snape rounded on him, some of the powder slipping from between his fingers and making a crescent shape on the carpet where he had whipped around. "Do not follow me. Under no circumstances are you to come through. Are we clear?"

"No, what's going on?" Harry replied stubbornly. What was with Snape and this new secrecy thing? Whatever was going on was obviously important. He told him about the prophecy, he even spoke about the fact he used to be a Death Eater, so he should be able to tell him about whatever was going on now.

"If there is an emergency floo to Lupin's or Hogwarts or the Weasleys. I'm leaving your potion here, take it if you need it. I'm waiting for a 'yes, sir'."

"No."

"If I cannot trust you, you'll go to Lupin's until I'm done. Trust me, Potter, I'll make you go," he warned when Harry opened his mouth to respond. "'Yes, sir'," he repeated, fixing Harry in his stern gaze.

"Yessir," he mumbled and Snape, seeming content with that, threw down his floo powder and vanished from sight.

Not a second later Harry had his own pinch of floo powder ready to fling into the grate. He hesitated. He could work this out; he didn't need to be Hermione to figure out what was going on, though if she was here, she'd already have told him what it was and what he should do about it. Snape had bought this house because of his run in with the aurors, he'd said as much when the holidays had begun, and now Harry couldn't floo through, even if he needed Snape. That was different. Snape had always insisted he had to administer the potion.

It couldn't be Death Eater stuff; it had to be to do with the aurors. Maybe Snape had called them over to tell them about his Moody idea. Either way, that put an end to his plans to follow him through. He didn't want to risk that he'd get taken away from Snape even if he was bursting to know what the man was trying so hard to keep from him.

S.S.

He strode to the front door in five swift steps, swinging it open in the middle of a series of over-amplified knocks that were reverberating through the small house.

"Am I to assume there's been no progress in your inquiries and you're here to harass me instead?" he growled, towering over a small auror who looked as if he'd joined fresh out of Hogwarts.

"I'm Auror Wendon and this is Auror Hoffley," he announced quickly, his tongue tripping over the syllables. "We've been assigned to search your property, due to... er–" he trailed off, giving a terrified glance to his partner who took over the explanation, unfolding an official document and reading verbatim what was written.

"The suspect has refused the reasonable request of veritaserum and as such the department of aurors are within their rights to search his or her property." Auror Hoffley nudged his glasses higher on his nose. "If the suspect refuses, he or she will be placed under two charges; the first, one count of–"

He'd heard enough. He abandoned from the door in the middle of the auror's monologue and settled himself onto the couch, watching the young one in particular. He'd feel more than satisfied if the nervous auror was terrified at the mere thought of coming to his house, but he wouldn't be surprised if one or the other of this idiotic pair was asked to plant something suspicious for the other to 'find'. Whoever sent them would know very well that there would be nothing relating to Harry's attack in his home. There was nothing to find, short of checking wands within days of the attack there is nothing material to link anyone to the crime.

"If you, uh, agree to take veritaserum then we won't need to search the property," the younger auror bravely offered under Severus' dark glare, hesitating at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Get on with it," he dismissed. "I have more important things to do than watch two incompetent aurors sorting through my cupboards."

By chance, his gaze landed on the mantel where an envelope lay waiting. As if they had in turn been watching him, the aurors turned their attention to the envelope as well, but Severus was quicker, summoning the envelope with the merest twitch of his wand and not allowing the smallest flicker of relief to pass over his face as he saw that it was addressed to him as opposed to Harry.

"We're going to need to see that."

Severus,

I didn't want to disturb you but you should be aware that Draco's memory was of little use. I will keep it in my possession for a few more days if you would like to see for yourself.

As for your last letter, I do not believe that what you sent to me is sufficient evidence. I would advise you not to let your dislike of the man interfere with the investigation. To answer your question, I requested Dobby the elf's presence during the Yule Ball.

Happy holidays,

Albus

"Evidently I do too, or it would not have been addressed to me," he replied, replacing the letter on the mantel.

He would like to see those memories for himself. He had every intention of searching for Moody within them and he was certain that he'd find him. And when he did, Albus would not be able to dismiss him so easily. He would not send Harry back, or even Draco, if it meant that they would be in danger.

"The department of aurors are co-ordinating the investigation," auror Hoffley said from behind his laughably thick glasses, his eyes repeatedly scanning the letter as if he believed that if he looked hard enough there would be something incriminating to find.

"And a terrific job you're doing," he deadpanned, scowling as Auror Wendon, while hovering boxes out of the attic, sent one crashing into a wall, spilling the contents across the staircase. "You're to clean up after yourselves," he ordered, giving Auror Hoffley a look that dared him to refuse.

---

He'd give them something to arrest him over, if they came back to his house. There was nothing in his house that could have any possible relation to the incident at Hogwarts and well they knew it.

"What happened?" Harry asked before he'd even swept the ash from his cloak.

"Nothing that concerns you." He stalked past where Harry stood, balancing awkwardly on the bed that he'd left in the middle of the living room, the better to reach the top of the Christmas tree over which he was throwing shiny lengths of tinsel.

"If it concerns you then it does concern me," Harry answered, disentangling himself from the decorations and following him through to the kitchen.

"We aren't discussing it and I have no desire to argue with you again." He slammed open and shut the cabinets searching for tea leaves.

"It's about the aurors or the attack, isn't it?" Harry guessed and Severus cursed loudly, half out of anger and half because his summoning charm had sent the leaves careening into an open cupboard door, spilling them all over the floor.

"How many times must I tell you something before it penetrates that thick skull of yours? Go back to your damned tree."

H.P.

"I'm not a child, Severus," Harry began indignantly.

"That is exactly what you are, and a difficult one at that."

"Yeah? And you're a right ray of sunshine," he returned sarcastically, arms crossed. Snape stared at him for a moment looking as if he might literally explode with rage and Harry had a hard time not stumbling back when he raised his wand.

"Accio calming draught." He took a long swig and gave him an appraising glance. Harry tried to school his features, slightly ashamed at the rate his heart was beating. "I don't want to see that look on your face when I raise my wand."

"You don't tell me anything, you know," Harry chanced to complain now that he knew Snape might be more disposed to listen. "Not just about now. I know barely anything about you."

"That's an exaggeration. I certainly do tell you things," he said with a pointed look, as if to say 'you haven't forgotten about the prophecy so soon' and Harry nodded to show he understood. "And there is nothing to tell you now," he continued, jabbing his wand sharply at the mess on the floor so that it shot into the bin. "The facts remain unchanged and you do not need to hear the details."

"But I want to know what's going on," he insisted, slumping in defeat onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"And I want you to remain blissfully unaware," Snape replied, his voice hard and impatient. "It is my job to worry about the details, not yours. And I certainly have discussed my past with you."

"I didn't mean the Death Eater stuff," Harry rushed to clarify. "I meant I don't know about you, when you were my age."

"Your past is relevant, mine is not."

"So you're not going to tell me anything? And you think I'm going to tell you anything else," he scoffed, working himself into an indignant temper. "I let you tell the Malfoys that my only family couldn't stand me, I let you pry into my memories whenever you want, and you don't trust me with anything."

"I do not tell you the things you want to know, which is not the same thing. There certainly are things that you know that I would ordinarily rather people didn't," Snape answered, beginning to make his tea again the muggle way.

"You didn't tell me about how my dad used to treat you; Sirius did."

"Perhaps there are things that I do not want to discuss," he replied, his tone turning bitter so that Harry almost regretted bringing it up, but his attitude got on his nerves. "There's loads I didn't want to discuss; I didn't want you to know I lived in a cupboard or that until I went to Hogwarts I'd never had any friends. And you still say I need to tell you more."

"And you don't, you avoid the issue."

"What's there to tell? You've seen it. I lived in a cupboard Severus, I didn't like it, I knew after a while that normal kids had their own room and I didn't deserve one. I knew I was in there because they didn't want me and I was just taking up space."

"Stop. Enough," Severus interrupted quietly, but with force. "You cannot buy information from me with your own. I will not tell you everything because it is not in your best interest to do so. I do not want you to share things with me like this, not in anger. I said that you could always ask your questions, did I not?"

"About being a Death Eater. I wouldn't just ask you about your family, not when you said your childhood was rough and I can't ask you about when you were at Hogwarts because it was my dad and his friends who were picking on you then."

"I didn't mean that your questions had to be about the time I spent as a Death Eater," Snape denied. "You can ask whatever you like, whenever you like. That doesn't mean I will always answer. Neither of us need answer any question that is too intrusive," Snape said, leaving the kitchen to drink his tea in the living room. "I see you've finally located the silver and green."

"Yeah, well they’re Christmas colours. It would look pretty stupid only in red and gold," Harry replied as he followed him through, dodging his desk which had been left jutting awkwardly in the way of the door.

Snape nodded at the tree and Harry resumed his place beside it, kneeling awkwardly on his mattress and resumed tossing decorations haphazardly from top to bottom.

"All right then." Harry had quite a few questions he'd like to ask if he had free reign, but he chose his words carefully, not sure yet what Snape would consider too intrusive. He could tell that the man wasn't fond of Spinner's End but he knew better than to ask outright for that story, not when he knew so little about Snape or his childhood. Then there was the matter of his family; it was as good a place as any to start.

"You said your mum was a witch, so you're a half-blood like me?" He pointedly kept his gaze away from Snape, concentrating on decorating the tree.

"Not like you. Both your parents were magical even if your mother's bloodline was not."

"But you lived at Spinner's End? Even though your mum was a witch."

"We did," Snape confirmed haltingly as if he wanted to continue but was having difficulty finding the words. He drilled his fingers into his cup. "It is the house my parents bought before I was born, and they lived there until they died."

"I meant, why did you live there when your mum was a witch?" He stopped himself from asking too much more, like why he had barely anything magical in there at all. The Weasleys weren't exactly well off and they had loads of magical items in their house. Almost everything at Snape's was worn and mugglish.

"She was a pureblood witch who married a muggle. There aren't many pureblood families who take kindly to that type of union; the Weasleys are an exception to the rule. She wasn't welcome with what was left of the Prince's, had that even been an option, and so we lived there."

"That was her name? Prince?" Harry asked, trying to imagine that name in connection to Snape. "I've never heard of the Princes."

"I don't doubt that. Her name was Eileen."

It wasn't lost on Harry that Snape was avoiding any mention of his father, but this wasn't information he would entrust to just anyone.

"She was disowned just for marrying a muggle?"

"It's not an uncommon stance for a pureblood family to take. She squandered away the future of the Prince's bloodline, dishonoured it even, and for what?" Snape sneered. Harry wasn't certain if he was speaking on behalf of the Princes or himself.

"Your scar isn't bothering you?" he asked suddenly, no doubt noticing Harry rubbing his forehead. He was probably also trying to change the subject but that was okay.

"No, it's fine." Surely something should have happened again though, especially after the failed attempt on his life. After all, he wasn't that good at occlumency. He said as much to Snape.

"There could be any number of reasons why the Dark Lord has yet to try anything."

"But what do you think?"

"I think that if he isn't trying to hurt you like this then his mind is bent on finding another way, which is far more worrying. I'd prefer it if you erase this last ridiculous enterprise from your mind," he said standing up and glancing at the furniture scattered around the living room. "And I'd also prefer it if you got off the bed before I send it back to your room."

"Where did you read it?" Harry asked, hopping down. "You said before that you read this was important."

"A muggle book, which explains its abysmal failure. We’ll decorate your room the wizarding way. What is the benefit of an attacker wanting to capture you as opposed to kill you?" Snape asked, changing the subject again to something he was more comfortable with.

"Uh, you get to live a bit longer... I was joking; that's not my answer. I guess it's easier to escape because they won't want to risk killing you in a fight."

"Good. I'm a Death Eater who wants to kill you. One hit and you're dead, and woe betide you if I manage it in less than ten minutes. Wear a coat," he called out as Harry made to go out in the garden as he was.

---

Snape caught him as he came through to Spinner's End. It looked messier than usual, which was odd considering no one had lived there since the summer. He was about to say so when Snape clicked his fingers irritably under his nose.

"I'll bring you back home tonight. If your scar hurts or you need me, I'll be here, but send Lupin through, not Black and not yourself. Don't even firecall me yourself."

"You're not going to tell me why, are you?"

"What do you think? I mean it, Harry," he said severely. "If anything happens and you want to come home then Lupin still needs to come through first."

"I get it. Don't come through."

Snape regarded him suspiciously for a moment, probably trying to work out how likely it was that he would obey him, before relenting and taking stock of the texts he'd left on the shelves at Spinner's End.

"Behave yourself," he said as Harry threw down the floo powder.

"Merry Christmas!" Sirius greeted him jovially as he stumbled out of the grate.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he replied, returning a quick hug and trying to hand over his card at the same time.

It looked like Christmas had exploded in Remus' living room. Tinsel was draped off shelves and bookcases and was tumbling haphazardly from a massive tree that took up almost a third of the room. The ceiling was covered in hanging decorations and someone had charmed fake snow to tumble and whirl gently around them.

"The charm's a bit much," Remus commented.

"No, it's brilliant," Harry replied. "It's like being in one of those snow globes." He held out his hand and the little flakes dissolved into nothing or spun back up into the air as if blown by an invisible breeze.

"We're doing Christmas a day early. You can at least have a proper Christmas with us before going back to Snape."

Harry ignored the slight against Snape and grinned at all the food laid out across the dinner table. "We aren't going to be able to eat all that!" Though it wouldn't be for lack of trying.

"We skipped breakfast to make room," Sirius said looking almost as delighted as Harry, but after twelve years in Azkaban, another year on the run, and now living in a cave, a table all laid out with turkey, roast potatoes and stuffing would be heaven.

"We called in a favour and borrowed one of the elves from the castle to make the food," Remus explained, turning on a wireless radio not dissimilar to one the Weasleys had. A Christmas song that Harry didn't recognise played faintly in the background. "We're not eating now anyway, presents first."

He was sent back to the living room to settle beside the huge tree which couldn't have been magical since there were needles littered all over the floor.

"How did you get this in here?"

"It wasn't this size originally; Sirius spelled it bigger," Remus said and rolled his eyes. For a change he didn't look tired or ill so it must be nowhere near the full moon.

"I wanted to do Christmas properly," he said, not looking at all apologetic.

"I'm sure at your house or in James' this size was normal, but it doesn't fit here."

"You had Christmas with my dad?"

"Your grandparents took me in when I was a bit older than you, sort of adopted me as a second son," he explained, sending packages zooming out from under the tree towards them.

"Oh..." he knew it was rude and he most likely had no business asking but he found that he really wanted to know why he'd needed adopting.

"I ran away from home. My family and I disagreed on a few fundamental issues. The Potters on the other hand, they were great. There weren't better people than your grandparents..."

"Stocking first," Remus interrupted, handing what looked like an actual massive sock over to Sirius so that he could then give it to Harry.

"Thanks, I think. You know this isn't the first old sock I've gotten as a present," he said, a little embarrassed to be made such a fuss of. "Did my dad's family use to do stockings?" he asked reaching inside and pulling out a box of every flavoured beans that should never have been able to fit.

Sirius looked thrilled to have been asked and launched into a detailed description of exactly how the Potters did Christmas, down to the Yorkshire pudding and twinkling lights that were charmed over the roof, and all the while Harry pulled out an assortment of oddities from inside the long sock. Soon he was surrounded by his every-flavour beans, chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, liquorice wands, a whistle which made a different noise every time you blew it, a trick key which vanished and reappeared in a different pocket every time you reached for it and a little pot of multicoloured ink.

Harry felt bad that all he'd given them was a card and they'd gone and gotten him a load of presents, but neither of them would hear a word of it. He didn't press the point, especially when it was so obvious how much it meant to Sirius, and if Snape's reaction to his complaints was anything to go by, all he would end up doing is offending both of them.

---

S.S.

Albus didn't move from where he sat, watching Severus from over his half-moon spectacles with a calmness that was beginning to grate. He'd taken to pacing the room in his agitation. Draco's memories confirmed exactly what he'd expected – Moody was visible in the memories almost the whole time, and he'd made no effort to rush to Harry's aid when he hit those stairs. At the time, he hadn't noticed how close Moody had been to the boys, but in the pensieve it was clear.

"They sent aurors here." The headmaster's eyes became a fraction more sympathetic but his next words weren't as conciliatory as he would have hoped.

"Are you certain these accusations aren't merely an attempt to shift attention to Alastor?" the headmaster replied, brandishing his letter. Severus couldn't read more than sad disappointment in his features.

"That is what he has done. He has accused me of a crime I did not commit and, despite all the evidence I have, you refuse to even entertain the idea that it could be him."

"Severus, this is not evidence," he said, placing Harry's notes on the table.

"We have gotten nowhere in the last two months. This is the closest thing to a lead that we have."

"I fear that you're becoming sidetracked..."

"Ask Moody for his memories," he demanded, changing tack. "He was present almost throughout Draco's, so he will have seen something we can use."

"I think you know that he would not freely give up his memories, not even to me." He knew what Severus was attempting to do and it was apparent that he did not appreciate it.

"Whether I'm right or not, he may have seen something. He spouts that 'constant vigilance' line of his so much I'm surprised he could claim to have missed someone imperiusing a student right before his eyes! What right does he have to refuse, to put Harry's life in danger, for the sake of his paranoia?"

"Very well, I will ask," he replied heavily. "But the likelihood is that he'll refuse just like you refused. It is your right, and it is his."

"What does he have to hide?"

Severus refused to part ways without passing on Harry's memories. If Albus could just see his interactions with the man he could possibly be convinced that Moody was not in his right mind, not that it would be a great improvement even if he was.

"Yours hasn't been the only interesting letter that I've received of late," the headmaster declared suddenly, handing him another envelope. Severus' curiosity was piqued the moment he laid eyes on it, recognising at once that it was from a muggle. He couldn't contain the smirk that spread across his face as he scanned the contents. "I asked you not to do anything to them."

"I did nothing; they brought all this on themselves. If you must, tell them I've agreed to remove the curse," he sneered contemptuously.

"We may well need that family in the future. I would appreciate it if you didn't terrorise them."

"They deserve far worse than this; if I ever see them again–"

"You will not," the headmaster interrupted, ending the conversation firmly.

---

H.P.

"Albus says they're having no luck finding whoever is trying to hurt you up at the school," Remus said, levitating a plate of roast potatoes that Harry was having trouble reaching closer to him.

"Well, Snape thinks he knows who it is but I don't think anyone agrees with him."

"It's Snape investigating, isn't it?” Sirius asked.

"Not really. He's helping, but I think officially it's the aurors and Dumbledore. You don't know anything else, do you?"

"Like what?"

"When we were at Hogwarts it looked like the aurors thought Snape had something to do with it, but he won't tell me anything about what they said or what's going on now."

"If you think Snape had something to do with it–" Sirius interjected again, but Harry quickly cut him off.

"No, he didn't have anything to do with it; he couldn't have because he was with me just before it happened. I'm worried because Snape's worried, but I don't know how bad it is."

"I'm sure you shouldn't be concerned, but if it would make you feel better we can have a word with Albus and make sure that everything is all right."

"You'll tell me if you find out what's happening?"

"Of course," Sirius answered, though Remus cut him off. "We'll tell you if there's nothing to be concerned about." Harry opened his mouth to protest. Who did Remus think he was? He didn't get to decide what was best for him, not when he couldn't even be bothered to send him a letter all through term! He was distracted from his indignation when Sirius thrust a cracker under his nose.

"This isn't a conversation for Christmas Day. Cracker?" he offered with a mischievous grin.

Harry had experienced his fair share of wizarding crackers but didn't want to ruin it for Sirius, so he pulled on it, not expecting much more than a bang and perhaps a little mouse to escape. Instead, there was a jingling of bells and a cascade of freezing cold snow shot out of the loser’s end, followed by a pointy carrot.

"Oh my God, that's freezing," Harry shivered, laughing.

"I think I'll pass on mine, if you've had a hand in all of them," Remus replied, handing his back. He gave Harry a once over with a drying charm as he flicked snow out of his hair.

Harry was practically giddy with excitement by the time Snape came to pick him up. He'd gathered all his presents in a bag, and took as many mince pies as he could fit in two hands to eat back at home.

S.S.

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the child look so delighted as he stepped into the winter wonderland scene they’d created in Lupin's front room. He was beaming as if he'd never passed a better day in his life, though he was most likely affected by the sheer amount of sugar he'd ingested by the look of the wrappers and cakes strewn about the room.

Lupin made an awkward attempt at conversation as Harry said his goodbyes to his godfather, who he could tell was making a concerted effort not to be affected by Severus' presence. It was none too convincing, and Harry's face fell slightly as he looked between them, though it wasn't clear what he found most objectionable, the tension between himself and his godfather, or the manner in which Severus had silenced Lupin's effort at small talk.

He found himself irritated by the situation. He'd felt smug when he'd arrived; he was the one who had Harry for Christmas. Much as Black might have wanted the day with him, Harry had asked to stay at home. His stomach had sunk considerably after catching a glimpse of the child's expression. Black and Lupin had obviously gone to some effort to give Harry a pleasant celebration with clearly successful results.

He had the rather absurd idea that he had wanted to win Christmas and that was looking a lot less likely. It didn't sit well with him that Harry would be disappointed the next day after spending Christmas Eve with his godfather. Not to mention the fact that this pair of imbeciles obviously knew exactly how to make Harry happy and his own futile attempts had ended up in nothing more than arguments and awkward exchanges.

"What did you do today?" Harry asked cheerfully as he tried to offload a handful of mince pies onto Severus.

"I met with the headmaster." He didn't miss Harry's surprise that he answered his question. Fortunately for him, there was no use hiding his suspicions about Moody. It would be impossible to protect him from a danger that he was completely unaware of.

"Harry said you had some ideas about who attacked him?" Lupin interrupted.

Severus wasn't so proud that he would refuse to have Lupin and Black on his side, not when it came to this. He produced Harry's notes from the inside pocket of his robes and handed them over.

"Alastor... You can't be serious?" Remus replied incredulously.

"There is already a crime worthy of life imprisonment in Azkaban written in those notes." Severus said, casting a finite on the absurd snow charm.

"Aren't you taking it out of context?" he replied, passing the parchment over to Black.

"Draco Malfoy was under the imperius curse when he attacked Harry and that is beside the fact that Moody is one of a handful of wizards in the castle capable of tricking the Triwizard Cup into taking Harry's name."

"This all sounds a lot like what someone who was trying to frame Alastor would say. I thought you were supposed to be trying to figure out who was threatening Harry, not using it as an opportunity to pick off your own enemies," Black challenged and Severus felt his blood boil. He didn't appreciate being made to look like a fool, nor the implication that he cared more about getting rid of Moody than looking for Harry's attacker.

"Don’t you dare imply that Harry is not my priority. What have you done for him?"

"I'm living in a cave!"

"And what a help you've been to him there, Black. Well done," he replied contemptuously.

"What have you done for him?"

"I took him in when he needed someone, and I'm teaching him to defend himself," Severus returned heatedly.

"Sir–"

"What do you know about taking care of children, the way you were raised? He's with you because he has no choice. We'll be lucky if you don't do him any more damage than those relatives of his," he replied, and Severus lost it completely. Forgetting his wand, he curled his fingers into a fist and launched himself at Black.

"SNAPE! Don't–" Harry cried, jumping between them and refusing to be budged.

"Sirius!" came Lupin's appalled tone simultaneously.

"Move," Severus snarled at Harry, even as the younger made a valiant attempt to push him back. Evidently realising that he wasn't about to physically shove him aside, Harry grabbed the front of his cloak with a near vice-like grip, making it impossible for him to reach Black.

"Get off," he growled.

"No."

"For Merlin's sake, Sirius. Apologise," Lupin said, coming to stand between them as well.

Severus stilled completely, meeting Harry's stubborn glare even as he held on tighter. He smirked slightly as he pulled out his wand, freezing his cloak beneath Harry's fingers, which were hastily retracted with a yelp.

"Argh, cold. Sir!"

Lupin was shoved aside as he made a grab for Blacks cloak, the better to send him crashing into the wall where his head connected with brick with an audible thud. "You know nothing, Black. When that boy is sick, he calls for me. When he's scared, he comes to me. He chose to spend Christmas with me." He yanked Black’s wand out of his grip before he could react and tossed it across the room. "I'm learning how to be a decent guardian all the time. I've learned that I can't kill you without causing Harry a small measure of grief, so I'm going to leave you intact." He allowed himself to give Black another vicious slam into the wall. "How I was raised has no bearing on how I treat Harry, is that clear?"

"Decent guardian," Black choked, baring his teeth in that ghastly laugh he must have developed in Azkaban. "That's odd, because Harry had a lot to say the other day about what a terrible guardian you are."

"I didn't say that."

"You're a child, Black, and a fool." He relinquished his grip on the man, trusting that Lupin would prevent him from doing anything foolish.

H.P.

When Snape turned to face him, Harry's eyes were still wide with horror.

"I didn't say you were a bad guardian. I was just annoyed because of the points and Malfoy, but I never said you were a bad guardian, I really didn't."

"Calm down. We'll discuss it at home," he said roughly, snatching up Harry's notes and the abandoned gifts, even as Remus had a brief hissed argument with Sirius.

"That really wasn't what I said. I don't think you're a bad guardian–" he continued, unable to let the matter lie.

"We'll talk at home, I said. Calm down. Moody's there, in Draco's memories before he attacked Harry," Snape said, looking back at Lupin as if there had been no interruption to the conversation.

Harry jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his back, not expecting the sudden contact from Snape.

"What does Albus think?" Remus asked, loosening his grip on Sirius' shoulder, but not without a last warning look.

"He's taken Harry's memories to study," he replied, and Harry guessed that he hadn't been as enthusiastic as Snape was at the idea of accusing Professor Moody.

"What do you think?" Sirius asked Harry, watching him intently.

"I think that I don't want to tell you what I think any more," Harry replied coldly.

"Kid, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have broken your confidence."

"All kids complain about their parents. If you tell him that stuff he won't want to be mine any more," he yelled, gesturing at Snape who tensed beside him.

"He's not your parent," Sirius returned heatedly. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but instead of saying anything flushed bright red, embarrassed beyond belief. Remus shook his head in the silence.

Luckily Snape took charge of the situation, giving Harry a push towards the fireplace. "Ask Albus for Harry's memories," he said to Lupin, tossing down the floo powder. "You trusted Pettigrew and that was a mistake. Don't be so foolish as to make the same error twice."

Snape caught him as he fell out of the floo at Spinner’s End and righted him quickly while Harry clumsily stumbled over his words, unable to decide between apologising for badmouthing him to Sirius or for calling him his parent.

"Stop apologising to me; I told you that you could speak to that pair of fools if you needed to."

"But I didn't say I thought you were a bad guardian."

"It is fine," Snape replied easily, grabbing more floo powder and throwing it down into the grate. "Tuck your elbows in and try not to fall over this time," he said waving at him to floo back to the new house.

Snape didn't immediately follow him through and as he waited he got more and more angry with Sirius. He'd said he would be okay about him staying with Snape, but instead he'd gone and done everything he could to ruin it. What if Snape decided he didn't want to be his guardian any more? What if he was weirded out that he'd gone and called him his parent? What if that was why he still hadn't come back home?

"I believe you're supposed to be cheerful at Christmas," Snape said, sitting beside him and stealing a mince pie. Harry jerked back in surprise; he hadn't even heard him floo through. "I have an amusing anecdote for you."

"Yeah?"

"The headmaster received an interesting letter from the muggle world," Snape said, stretching his legs out and balancing them on the coffee table.

"That's unusual for him then? Surely he has loads of muggle parents writing to him about their kids."

"Those parents know to use owl post. This one attempted to make its way to Hogwarts by muggle post." Snape had an odd look on his face, like he was expecting Harry to be able to guess where he was going with this.

"It wasn't from the Dursleys, was it?" he guessed, narrowing his eyes and scooting his legs up onto the couch. Snape raised his eyebrows in reply, as if to say that much was obvious. "It was?" he said, dismayed. "What did they want?"

"They wrote to tell you to calm down," he replied with a pointed look. "I said it was an amusing anecdote."

"Are you sure it was from the Dursleys then?"

"Oh, I'm quite certain it was. Do you remember that I had your aunt sign a contract allowing me to act as your guardian?" He looked weirdly proud of himself and Harry couldn't guess what the Dursleys could possibly have said that Snape would find funny.

"Vaguely..."

"Your relatives wrote to the headmaster with quite a list of complaints. To name a few, apparently your uncle has suffered something of a demotion at his job, your cousin is failing at school and your aunt has developed some sort of odd muggle condition. They were desperate enough to write and ask if the headmaster would release them from the curse I put on them."

"You cursed them?"

"No."

"I'm lost now."

"I was incredibly tempted to curse them, as you can imagine, but I had given my word to the headmaster that I wouldn't do them any harm. I merely pretended to curse them," he shrugged, reaching for another of Harry's mince pies.

"Then what about all the bad stuff that's happening to them?"

"Power of suggestion. I told them their lives would take a turn for the worse. They've created their own misfortunes or else it's merely a coincidence. Your relatives are so frightened of magic I knew they would believe in the curse."

Harry couldn't help smiling because Snape looked incredibly proud of himself. "Sir, you have a really weird sense of humour. But thanks."

"I'm glad you appreciate it because the headmaster did not."

"Sir..." He wanted to say he was sorry he'd ever spoken to Sirius about him and that his godfather was wrong, he was doing a great job being his guardian. He was a million times better than the Dursleys, and Harry did know he wasn't his parent but sometimes he wished, well he had no business wishing anything, not on top of all that Snape was doing for him already.

 “Can we watch a Christmas film?” he said instead.

 

H.P.

The following morning, the smell of bacon roused him from sleep and he shuffled into the kitchen pyjama-clad and bleary eyed.

"Merr' Chr'ssmas," Harry mumbled, handing over a card and grabbing a plate to load up on breakfast. He left aside anything that looked vaguely healthy; there was no room for grilled tomato on his plate when there were mounds of bacon and hash browns to eat.

"Thank you," Snape said gruffly, holding onto the card long enough for Harry to wonder whether he would comment on the fact that he had addressed it to 'Sir'. He said nothing however, merely sending it to sit on the mantelpiece before unloading half of Harry's plate onto his own and throwing on a decent amount of mushroom and tomato. "I didn't intend for you to take the amount of food as a challenge."

"It's Christmas," Harry replied around a mouthful of potato.

"That might mean eating until you throw up for your cousin but I have no intention of watching you vomit, nor will I have any sympathy for you if you do."

"'M hungry. How long have you been up for?"

"Hours, Potter, I couldn't contain my excitement," he drawled lazily.

Harry sent a few curious looks at the pile of presents under the tree as he munched his way contentedly through the feast of a breakfast Snape had prepared. He'd put his own present for Snape under there, right at the back, before he'd gone to bed, but the amount of parcels under the heavily decorated tree seemed to have increased since then.

This Christmas was already shaping up to be the best he'd had yet. Christmas at Hogwarts was always great but there was something special about having one at home... The fact that he knew Snape didn't care about the season, that he'd gone to all this trouble just because he'd said that he wanted to spend Christmas with him, that said a lot. He couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face, even though it made it tricky to shove as much food in his mouth as he'd like.

"I kept the presents that were delivered for you over the last few days," Snape said, gesturing at the pile under the tree.

"I've already opened a load from Sirius and Remus, who are those even from?" he asked, craning his neck to look but resisting the urge to get up.

"Go," Snape replied, shooing him towards the tree and banishing the dirty dishes. "Most are from your friends, I believe."

Kneeling beside the tree, Harry reached for the first. "Weasley jumper!" he declared without even needing to unwrap it, but waiting until Snape had sat down to do so anyway. He immediately threw it on over his pyjamas, savouring the warmth.

Snape gave the scarlet jumper, emblazoned with a massive H in gold, a dubious look.

"Huh? This one just says 'To the ward of Severus Snape.'" He handed it over for the Potions Master to inspect.

"That's you, is it not? It's from the headmaster," he clarified, seeming pleased by the wording. Harry, on the other hand, was completely nonplussed by the odd message but he ripped the wrappings apart nonetheless. On the outside of the box was a happily waving stick man who merrily mimed climbing up a short wooden set of stairs and fixing his own noose before–

"Magic hangman? Does that mean it actually hangs itself?" Harry asked, wrenching the box open and trying to work out if he was grossed out by the gift or not.

"That man very rarely gets me a gift that tolerable. He finds it amusing to give me garish clothes or questionable sweets."

Harry made it his mission to dig out Snape's present from Dumbledore just to see how bad it would be. From the look on Snape's face it was as if he'd been told he had to award Gryffindor one hundred points and then spend Christmas with all the rest of them. He had in his hands a very warm and very furry set of earmuffs all in red and gold.

"Absolutely vile."

"Ha, do you think he knows you made me wear Slytherin dress robes?"

"You looked smart in your robes. This is a monstrosity," he said, throwing the earmuffs towards Harry and beginning his pile of presents, which slowly expanded until there was only one left.

S.S.

"Here." Severus unceremoniously sent the last box zooming toward the boy, scattering the pile of wrapping paper. He'd put a good deal of thought into his original present but considering Harry's attitude over Christmas he'd had a rather swift rethink, changing his mind at the last moment.

"Thanks, sir."

"You don't know what it is yet," he replied, rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked a lot like he didn’t want to know what it was, but after a moment, and with no small amount of apprehension, he began tearing off small shreds of paper. Severus was decidedly unimpressed when he tried to procrastinate further by tidying it all away. When all was cleared aside, there was nothing more impressive than a rather ragged cardboard box.

"You know, if I was at the Dursleys this would just be empty and everyone would think it was hilarious." The smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes as he toyed with the corner of the box. It was thoroughly disconcerting to see him so vulnerable and Severus had no desire to prolong the moment.

"I would not do that to you," he replied seriously. He shifted to the closest seat on the sofa and, leaning down to open the box for him, revealed an array of odds and ends. The contents of the box were as thoroughly unimpressive as they looked but they were far from intended as a joke or an exercise in belittling the boy.

"Oh," Harry exhaled, kneeling up a little higher to look inside. "Was this all yours?"

"In a manner of speaking. Try not to let your excitement overwhelm you; it's not every day I give out old rubbish from my house," he said sardonically. "The books were mine. I don't imagine you're terribly thrilled that I've put those in."

"I read," Harry replied indignantly, finally delving in and pulling out a book. He flicked through the pages eagerly and Severus had the distinct impression he wasn't as enthralled with the story as he was with the history.

"They aren't books about quidditch," he mocked lightly. "They're mostly muggle ones, though there's a few wizarding novels I picked up when I was a few years older than you. They may help to keep you entertained when I can't take you out."

Harry pulled each book out slowly, studying the covers carefully and forming a neat pile around him, which contrasted greatly with the haphazard pile of sweets and ill-chosen clothing from the headmaster. When he was content that he'd appreciated each tattered novel fully, he inspected the contents of the box once more.

It was a decidedly odd experience having the child root around in the objects of his past with such interest. It was as if he had the same respectful regard for the box that he had for Spinner's End, despite Severus' obvious contempt for it.

"Do you reckon this'll work here?" Harry asked, fiddling with the dials of an old muggle radio with much more enthusiasm than Severus had at his age.

"If you keep it in your room and don't do too much magic in there," he replied.

"How old is it?"

"Quite a few years, but it should work well enough," he said, holding his hand out to get it working for him. Truth be told, he still wasn't keen on verbalising the events of his past, but Harry's curiosity was natural. Hopefully these few worthless objects might go some way to make up for his lack of explanation.

"What's this?" Harry held out a blank board, deep grey in colour and no bigger than one of Harry's textbooks. It appeared thoroughly normal. The enchantment on it was so old that it had almost completely faded and Severus had very nearly missed it as he'd scoured the attic for anything of interest.

"I believe you need to tap it with your wand to get the charm working."

He had, of course, tested it himself beforehand. He had some idea of what the Princes had been like and wasn't about to let Harry get his hands on anything too powerful or dangerous. He had enough danger to contend with as it was and had no need of any more powerful artefacts. That cloak of his father's was proof enough of what a young man will get up to with powerful magic at his disposal. This was an object of little power but no doubt it would be of some use to Harry.

Seemingly, Harry didn't agree, or didn't approve. "Did you enchant this?" he accused, waving the board under Severus' nose so that he had trouble reading it.

He snatched it from his grasp and held it still to find out what he found so objectionable. The board proclaimed in faded but ostentatious calligraphy that Harry ought to 'practice occlumency'. He could imagine why his own father would not have wanted such an item in his home, besides the fact that it was magical.

"If I want you to practice occlumency, I don't need to charm a chalk board to tell you," he replied dryly, hiding his concern. The charm on it wasn't at all advanced but even after all these years it was effective and if it had decided that Harry's priority ought to be occlumency then it most likely had good reason.

"So this was yours as well then?"

"I hadn't seen it until I was looking for things to give you," he said with a shrug. "I can only assume it was my mother's and she put it aside before I was born."

"Are you sure you want to give it to me if it was your mum's?" Harry asked, holding it with a good deal more care, as if Severus had just declared it an object of priceless value.

"An old chalk board that I had no idea existed until a few days ago? I'm sure I can bear to part with it."

H.P.

"What's this last one at the bottom?" he asked, pulling out a small stone. It was almost clear but it shone blue where it caught the light, and was no bigger than a muggle marble.

"Ah, this I made," Snape said with a touch of pride. "Hold it in your hand. Collegare." He jabbed his wand sharply but stopped short of giving Harry a painful prod. "I have a corresponding piece. If you need me, tap it and say 'allerta Severus'."

"What does that do to yours?"

"It'll heat up, and if that doesn't get my attention then it'll emit a noise. If you need me to give you your potion or if you're in any danger and you aren't at home, use this so I know you need my help."

"I might as well just use Dobby."

"That elf is not discreet as we've discussed already."

Harry didn't want to seem ungrateful so kept his mouth shut. This wasn't what he had in mind when he said they needed a way to communicate. It was still completely one sided, so how was he supposed to know if something had happened to Snape? He pocketed the little stone and flicked randomly through one of Snape's old books.

"You wrote in this one."

"Did I?" he asked, whipping it quickly out of his grasp. "Ah, yes. I was rather prone at that age to writing comments in the margins of whatever I read, be it fiction or not."

"You're still prone to that now," Harry replied, thinking of the scathing remarks littered around his essays. "That's not about the book," Harry chuckled, noticing a scrawl at the top of a page where he’d written 'Gillen, can't spell his own name, an E in potions?' but Snape held it out of his sight and flicked through the pages.

"Mm, there's nothing too offensive in this one. Stop trying to find comments in the margins," he said, summoning another out of Harry's grasp.

"I want to see what you were writing when you were a teenager. I can't imagine you being young."

"I'm not yet forty," Snape replied as if offended.

"You're not erasing bits, are you?" He leaned over to see and all he got was a glare for his trouble as Snape slid his wand delicately down the edge of a page.

"Not everything I wrote is for your eyes. You do not wish to hear me criticise your father, do you? I very much doubt you want to read it on the side of these pages either. My notes in fiction tended not to be about the story unless it was particularly badly written. Are we finished?" he asked, glancing under the tree.

"No," Harry replied nervously. "I've still got to, er, give you your present. Thanks for all this by the way," he said, waving an arm to encompass the gifts that had already managed to make their way all over the room.

"I didn't think you would appreciate having anything else bought for you this Christmas."

"This is better. But you did say you'd bought something, you know, right when I first arrived."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I gave that to Draco," he said, his tone careless.

"Ha ha," Harry replied, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I really do want to say thanks."

"You did, just now."

"Right. You're hard to buy for, so I don't know if you'll like it," Harry said, reluctantly handing his present over.

"You needn't have gotten me anything." He sliced the wrapping paper open neatly and efficiently.

"Uh, you said before that you didn't have one, but you didn't say you didn't want one," Harry struggled to explain before the wrappings fell off and he could judge it. "When you showed me your postcards you just said you lived alone," he continued, his face reddening suddenly in embarrassment.

"But I don't live alone now." He studied the muggle camera as he pulled it out of the box, his expression impassive, and Harry couldn't tell if it was good enough.

"I figured you'd know how to make the potion to make the pictures move if you wanted to," Harry said, fidgeting slightly as Snape continued to inspect his gift.

"I do." He looked carefully at the little rolls of film before popping one expertly into the camera and shutting the back with a snap. A moment later, there was a click and a flash that had Harry jumping back.

"Hey!"

"It is mine to use, is it not?" he smirked.

His relief that Snape hadn't laughed or sneered at the gift made it hard to be annoyed, not that he really thought he would do that to him. Snape was decent really, when you got used to him.

---

Despite the fact that it was Christmas day, Snape harassed him to be warmly dressed and presentable as soon as they were finished with the gifts. Harry hadn't known what to expect from Snape when he asked to spend the holidays with him, but he might have known the man wouldn't be content to stay at home and take a single day to relax.

He was spared from falling face first onto a foot of snow by Snape's firm grip, but despite the fact he was still on his feet the apparition felt more jarring than usual. He swallowed back the taste of bacon that was far less pleasant having come back up and stepped out of Snape's hold.

"Where are we?" The wind was somehow even colder than in the frost-covered garden of their new house and the snow had fallen in a heavy layer. It was either way out in the middle of nowhere or the snow had just stopped falling, as the ground was a pure white canvas that Harry was struggling not to launch himself into.

"Not far from Hogwarts. I understand you're quite fond of the snow."

Harry grinned at that, warmed by the thoughtfulness, but his mind quickly jumped to the charmed snow that was falling the day before at Remus' and his grin faded. Of their own volition, his lips were moving, voicing something that he'd never considered asking aloud.

"Do you think my dad would be okay with this, with me living with you?" he blurted, regretting the words instantly but he could no more erase them than he could have held them back.

After a moment of complete silence, Snape replied with an even 'no'. "I think your father would want more for you, but he would be grateful that there was someone to take you from your relatives."

"He would hate that it was you though, just like Sirius does."

"When Black went to Azkaban he did not know I had changed sides. He has spent twelve years in prison nursing his grief and his hatred and he has not matured in the slightest. I stand by what I said yesterday, he is a child and a fool," he declared scornfully. "When James Potter died, he did so protecting his son. He would not take this away from you. He would only wish for better."

"That almost sounds like you're saying something nice about my dad," he said, wrapping his cloak tighter about him to keep out the cold.

"I'm well aware that your father possessed good qualities. It is arguable that even the worst of us have good qualities," Snape replied, waving his wand in a familiar pattern as he strode across the clearing.

"What's Voldemort got then?"

"The Dark Lord–"

"I'm not calling him that. He isn't my Dark Lord," he replied stubbornly.

"Then call him You-Know-Who. He is an exceptional wizard; it's the use he puts it to that is evil." He couldn't feel it, but he almost thought he could see the wards shimmer in the cold air as Snape set them.

"Being clever isn't a good quality," Harry countered, stamping his feet to try to keep them warm. If he had known he would be on a freezing snow-covered mountain, he might have considered another pair of socks.

"Miss Granger would disagree."

"I don't like her because she's clever. What are we even doing here?"

"I decided that seeing as I had you for the day, you could accompany me while I gather ingredients," Snape answered with a hint of a smile, echoing the phrasing he'd used the day he took him to the beach over the summer.

"What are you gathering? Snow?" Harry scoffed.

"Idiot," Snape replied, sending a great glob of it barrelling straight into him.

"Oi!" Harry determinedly balled up some snow and tossed it back at Snape, who dodged it with ease. He regretted it a moment later when the tree he was standing under shed all the snow from its branches right on top of his head.

"You aren't going to win this, Potter."

"Snape!" he huffed, brushing himself off.

"What do you need to consider when escaping from an attack in the snow?" Snape asked, serious now, stalking around him in a wide circle, wand trained on his chest.

"That it's bloody cold and I shouldn't have let you apparate me up a mountain." he replied, using a drying charm on the inside of his robes where snow had slipped under his collar. He sighed as he ducked a stinging hex from Snape. "All right! It's icy, so I'd probably fall over running away, aaaaaand... footprints! They'd see my footprints."

"Don't sound so proud of yourself; it wasn't a difficult question. Watch," Snape ordered, performing a spell to obliterate his footprints as he circled Harry.

"You'd think I'd get a day off at Christmas."

"You've got ten seconds. Hide," he commanded, ignoring the comment. "Keep the clearing in sight, and don't go out of the wards."

"Kill or capture?" Harry asked, pulling out his wand to obliterate his footprints as soon as Snape's back was turned.

"Kill. I land a hex and you're dead. Go."

He knew that Snape intended for him to keep moving but the crunch of snow under his feet was certain to draw his attention. He kept low, crouching quickly behind rocks and darting to bushes, every sound making him wince. He lost sight of Snape and stopped occasionally to listen for the sound of another pair of feet in the snow. It was probably pointless, Snape had this irritating ability to glide silently whenever he wanted to, most of the time when he was patrolling the castle at night.

As he scanned the area behind him, he jumped, spotting black amongst the trees. His gasp was likely what drew his attention, but he was ready to sprint the moment Snape raised his wand. He knew that he could have caught up with him if he'd wanted, but Harry could tell he wasn't directly followed across the clearing, although he wouldn't have long until Snape appeared just as silently as before.

Glancing about determinedly, he climbed with difficulty up the nearest tree. There weren't many great big knots to pull himself up on and he gasped as his shoes slipped across the icy trunk.

Once he was perched securely, he had to be careful not to move from where he sat, as the slightest movement sent a sprinkling down to the ground that Snape would be sure to spot. Annoyingly, that meant that Harry's view was extremely limited, which proved to be his downfall a few moments later as Snape strolled easily to the foot of the tree.

"Oh, very clever." He sent a weak hex in Harry's direction to end the game. "Get down," he challenged, waiting with his arms folded below him. "Where did you plan on going from there?"

"Nowhere," Harry replied, easing himself back down the trunk and failing to get purchase. "I'd hex you first then hop down – or fall down – when I got you." He frowned and, seeing no safe way down, decided his best bet would be to hold onto the branch and drop.

"If there is no escape from your hiding place then it should be a last resort," Snape replied, catching him by the front of his robes and hauling him down onto the snow.

"If I was old enough to apparate then I'd just do that, wouldn't I?"

"And if the Dark Lord has put up anti-apparition wards? If you're taken to a warded house or you're at Hogwarts and in trouble? You need to be able to use your brain."

"Fair enough."

"Indeed. What spell is most likely to be used if someone wants to capture you?"

"Disarm–"

"Doesn't stop you running."

"I wasn't done. Petrificus Totalus or stun, I guess."

"The stunning spell. Petrificus Totalus can have damaging consequences on a falling figure and if they're capturing you then they want you alive, preferably not suffering from brain damage." Snape raised his wand and nodded for him to get moving again.

"Hold on, you aren't actually going to stun me are y–"

"Stupefy."

He blinked in the harsh light, staring straight up at the sky.

"Hey," he complained hazily, struggling to sit up in the cold snow.

"It was a stupid question," Snape announced above him. "You lose consciousness in a battle, Harry, and the only way you'll wake up is in the hands of your enemy."

---

Harry shifted contentedly further into the warmth of the couch. With the fire on one side and a wall of cushions on the other, he was more than comfortable, and there was a strong possibility he'd fall asleep at any moment. He'd been stunned a few times and drenched from where he'd fallen in the snow. Snape had been unrelenting and unsympathetic, insistent that if he didn't like it, he would learn to deflect or dodge.

He deserved a lazy evening and he wasn't moving away from the fireplace in a hurry, not after spending all day stumbling in the freezing cold snow.

"L."

"No."

Snape seemed to be enjoying Harry's present a good deal more than he would admit as they watched the little figure wave and step closer and closer to his doom while his gallows slowly constructed itself.

"Is this a word I even know?" Harry asked, crossing his arms suspiciously. Snape had taken to picking words he suspected Harry couldn't spell or had never even heard so he could win, or maybe just so he could watch the little figure hang himself, which he seemed to find amusing.

"I have no intention of limiting my own vocabulary to match yours, perhaps you'll learn something."

Harry grumbled quietly under his breath, stretching to reach the post that the fire had just coughed out so that he didn't have to stand. Only in the last few days had they started getting letters through to this house and he wasn't sure how Snape was managing it. Letters couldn't floo themselves after all. But what was far more intriguing was why he thought it was necessary.

He waved his wand over the bundle as Snape had taught him before passing it to his guardian, who awaited it with his hand outstretched.

"F?"

"No..." Snape replied, passing over a letter but pausing to smirk as the figure took another step forwards and the noose settled into place.

Harry gave the envelope a single glance before chucking it aside. "Y?"

"No." This time, when Snape looked up to watch the toy his gaze fell on the letter that Harry had tossed onto the table. "You aren't going to open it?"

"I know who it's from," Harry muttered, frowning as he tried to puzzle out Snape's word.

"You seemed to have been enjoying the day yesterday."

"Yeah, until Sirius tried to ruin everything."

"You'll forgive him that," he commented from behind his own letter.

"What?" Harry looked up, surprised and not a little annoyed. "Since when are you on his side?"

"I'm not saying you should, but I know that you will. You forgave me, did you not?"

"Because you took me in twice and because of everything you've done for me," Harry replied heatedly, sitting up straighter. "He said he would be okay with me living with you, he knows this means a lot to me and he still tried to ruin everything."

Harry's agitation distracted Snape enough from the parchment that he lowered it slightly. "Black was entirely thoughtless, but he was trying to hurt me, and I assure you he isn't capable of sabotaging our situation."

"Yeah, but it's not like everything's set in stone, is it?" he said, settling back into the chair once more. "I don't want things to go back to the way they were."

"I'm a man of my word. There is nothing he could say that would stop me being your guardian." Snape didn't take his gaze from Harry, as if he wanted to be certain that the conversation was taken care of before he could go back to reading.

"I'm not saying you would kick me out but it's not like you're officially stuck with me, you know, for good."

Something about his wording must have irked Snape. "You’re not adopted but that doesn’t mean your position here is any less permanent." He shook his head, as if to clear it of those thoughts, and unrolled the parchment further. "Regardless, it’s not an option. I have no desire to involve the ministry in our arrangement."

To hear it said so bluntly was a blow. He felt winded, that Snape could so easily and carelessly refuse a notion he'd barely been brave enough to entertain. He stared down at his fingers, suddenly ashamed to have wanted to spend Christmas with his teacher, childishly pretending they were even close to being some sort of family.

"It’s not an option because I need to be able to take up my position as spy when the time comes," Snape said slowly in the lengthy silence, as if it was odd that he should have to explain something so obvious. When he didn't immediately get a response, he abandoned the reading of his letter completely, putting it aside to turn his full attention on Harry, who reddened under his troubled stare.

"So if... if you didn't have to spy...?" Harry said finally, leaving the question unfinished.

"The plan is to act as though you are still living mainly with your relatives so that the Dark Lord believes you to be under protection of the blood wards. If he finds out that you no longer have them, then the fact that no one knows where you are will be an additional layer of protection that I will not forfeit."

Harry heard the implied no and looked away. "Right."

"It does not matter either way," Snape asserted, leaning forward slightly so that Harry could not ignore him completely.

But Harry wasn't interested in avoiding his gaze any longer. "Yes, it does. Of course it matters," Harry spat with something akin to disgust. "If you don't want to adopt me that's fine but–"

Snape raised his hand, cutting him off. "I did not say that I didn't want to adopt you."

Harry scoffed, once more unable to control the words that came spilling out. "I can't even get you to say you like me more than Malfoy!"

"Because it should go without saying," he snapped, raising his voice before visibly reigning himself in. "It is an imagined rivalry born out of insecurity. I did not want to be in a position where I would need to constantly reassure you every time you felt threatened."

S.S.

Severus gritted his teeth in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't quite believe he had been so foolish as to say the word aloud and raise the topic.

"I refuse to believe that you didn't realise that I would not be able to adopt you. This arrangement is a secret for your protection; if I were to adopt you things would become rather more public than is in your interest."

"I wasn't asking you to adopt me. You just went ahead and said that you didn’t want to."

"That is not what I said. You assume as much because it is easier for you to believe that I do not want you than to consider that I was stating a fact. I cannot adopt you now. And it does not matter, Harry, because I do not require the ministry's permission to consider you my son," he clarified fiercely.

That declaration appeared to be slightly too much, overwhelming might have been the word most appropriate. "You, um, what?" Harry replied uncertainly, looking far more lost than he had even a moment before.

They both started as the floo flared unexpectedly and Severus felt no small amount of pride at the speed at which Harry had the headmaster's floating head at wand point. He swallowed back a self-satisfied smirk and pushed down Harry's arm and invited the headmaster in.

He rounded on Harry with a stern look. They only had a scant few seconds before he came through.

"If I ask you to leave the room, then do so. Do not argue with me in front of the headmaster." The last thing he wanted was his employer’s ill-timed appearance to result in public histrionics on the boy's part. He let his gaze linger on the child for a moment, but he seemed to be pulling himself together.

"Merry Christmas, my boys! I should applaud your decorating skills as well as your reflexes Harry; I'd never have thought to see Severus' home so festive," he cheerily announced in all his Christmas finest. His robes were even louder than he was as he stepped out of the grate and Severus openly shook his head, horrified at the green and red robes, but even more so at the snowflakes that were tumbling across the fabric. All he needed was to be edged in tinsel and then he officially could not get any worse.

"Have you been enjoying the holidays?" he asked Harry, his eyes twinkling in that grandfatherly way of his. Severus excused himself to prepare the tea, letting Harry deal with the pleasantries while he considered whether the headmaster would be bringing him news of the investigation. It would be just like the man to floo in merely to exchange Christmas greetings and a cup of tea as if it were any other year and Severus was alone in his quarters, enjoying a well-earned break from the rest of the castle.

He finished swiftly and made to join the pair of them, fervently hoping Harry had dealt with the small talk, but at the sound of Harry's low and earnest tone Severus paused in the doorway. "Are you sure they can't arrest him without any evidence?"

"Yes, I am," the headmaster answered simply. Severus cleared his throat and Harry caught his eye, staring straight back at him and refusing to look in the slightest bit guilty.

"Thank you, Severus. Harry here was showing me your new camera.”

"Was he now?" he replied coldly, not taking his eyes from Harry, who was masterfully ignoring him to show the headmaster which way up the device should be held.

"Where would you prefer? By the fire or in front of the tree?" he inquired pleasantly, still holding the camera as if it were a foreign object.

"Tree?" Harry asked as he stood.

"What?" He was confused for a moment, the question not lining up with the conversation that had gone before. "Neither. I prefer not to be the subject." That this was becoming an uncomfortable social visit was not lost on him and he was eager to get to the point.

"Now, now, Severus," the headmaster chided lightly. "I know you'll want to remember your first Christmas together. You did say–"

"All right!" he snapped, changing tack immediately so as not to be reminded of anything he may have said, especially not in front of Harry.

He bent down to the child's level as he stood beside him. "You are in trouble."

"I know."

"Severus," the headmaster said impatiently. He heaved a put-upon sigh as he straightened, yanking Harry closer and resting a hand on his shoulder. The moment the shutter clicked, he summoned the camera, which he had quite enjoyed the use of until it was turned against him, and stashed it away in his own room, where not even Harry's disobedient spirit would lead him.

"It's been a long evening and Harry was on his way to bed. I'll be with you in a moment, headmaster," he said, needlessly draping his words in the polite lies people were accustomed to hearing in these social situations.

H.P.

"I was clear that I did not want you to know about the auror's investigation into me," Snape growled, banging open Harry's wardrobe with more force than was strictly necessary and chucking Harry's pyjama's in the general direction of his head. "You knew what that meant. How dare you attempt to get information from the headmaster?"

"I didn't ask for specifics." Snape paused in the act of shutting the curtains to give Harry a dark look.

I do not require the ministry's permission to consider you my son. You wouldn't think, to look at him now, that those words had been said. He'd stopped striding about the room and had settled into his looming stance, his usual angry scowl in place... He was always angry with him, almost always at least. Maybe he hadn't meant it like it sounded, perhaps he'd meant that one day he could think of him like that and the ministry's opinion on it wouldn't make a difference... Or maybe that even, Harry didn't like to think of it, but that, if he did adopt him, it wouldn't make him care about him as if he were his son.

"About what you said earlier..." Harry started, his tone guarded, but trailed off at the expression on Snape's face. Almost immediately he realised that he'd cut the man off mid-flow and Severus Snape was not a man who was accustomed to being ignored, even if, by now, he must have gotten used to being interrupted. He could only shrug weakly as Snape went from indignant to understanding.

"Do not doubt that I meant it."

Harry could not doubt his sincerity, but the concept was too foreign to consider, it was too much to hope for and he shook his head, not sure what he was denying but choosing instead to focus on the matter at hand.

"Then I'm not sorry," he declared boldly. "If you want me to believe you care about me, then you should understand why I needed to ask Dumbledore. I know the aurors suspect you and I know you're worried."

"There is nothing to be gained from you knowing every detail; you have enough responsibility as it is." Snape parroted the same reply as usual. "Concern yourself with occlumency, your training and not being killed whenever you are not in this house. I think that's rather enough for a child of your age to deal with on top of their school work."

"Who cares about school work?" he replied incredulously. "You don't need to pretend everything is all right. You agreed that not knowing something doesn't make it go away."

"You know the facts and when the situation changes you will know about it, but I will not add to the burden on your shoulders by telling you every detail or every difficulty I may face along the way." Snape's expression was determined and Harry knew he would not be easily steered from his course. "There is no if either. I would hope that I've made it more than clear that I care about you."

“I've lived with people who couldn't care less whether I lived or died, so it's not hard to tell the difference. I wasn't questioning that," he denied, choosing to leave what he was questioning unsaid. "Either way, I get to care about you too and I wasn't about to go to bed while you chat to Dumbledore, then wake up and find out you've been arrested."

"I'm not going to be arrested," Snape huffed out in exasperation.

"That's what I asked Dumbledore," he replied, aware that his words would have sounded more than a little insolent.

There was a polite but crisp knock at the door, cutting off whatever Snape was about to say next.

"I don't mean to interrupt my boys, but I was beginning to worry that I was waiting in the wrong room..." Harry wasn't fooled in the slightest. Either he knew they were arguing and wanted to put an end to it, or he had something urgent to discuss with Snape. Harry would have bet all the gold in his vault that it was the latter.

"Merry Christmas, Harry. I trust you enjoyed yourself?" Dumbledore said, bidding him goodnight.

"It's been great. Did I thank you for the hangman?"

"You're very welcome. I'm glad the two of you have been able to put it to use. So many of my gifts seem to go to waste. Ah, and I recognise another of them here," he smiled, his eyes twinkling in that all-knowing way of his as he glanced at Harry's almost offensively yellow pyjama top.

"It's sort of my pyjamas now," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment but instinctively clutching it to his chest.

There was an awkward silence as the headmaster looked pointedly between them, waiting for one or the other to say their goodnights. Snape met his gaze with a steady look of his own, clearly not willing to have any interaction under his scrutiny. The moment Dumbledore gave them their space, Snape crooked a finger at Harry and enveloped him in a one-armed hug. "You feel reassured now?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Don't mention it again and we'll let that be an end to it," he said firmly, holding him that little bit tighter for a split second before letting him go. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Harry replied weakly.

He picked a book off Harry's desk and put it in his hands. "Read before you sleep, occlude your mind, and I will see you in the morning."

S.S.

Severus shut and warded Harry's door. He wasn't foolish enough to presume that Harry would not take to eavesdropping if he thought he could get away with it.

"I hadn't quite finished your letter. I wasn't expecting a visit."

"I did not want to ruin your first Christmas together, but the matter is urgent." He took a lengthy moment to gather his thoughts or to allow Severus to prepare himself for their discussion. Either way, he found the pause profoundly irritating. "The ministry, quite like yourself, has been putting a great deal of pressure on me to take some action after this latest attack."

"The answer to that is obvious," Severus replied immediately. "Replace Moody and tell the aurors what I told you."

"Tell the aurors that their prime suspect has accused a well-respected ex-auror? You have no evidence and, although I have the greatest of faith in you, even I find the idea rather far-fetched. How did Cornelius put it? Ah, a 'continual lack of action' has forced them to take matters into their own hands."

"What are they threatening to do now? They aren't suggesting you close Hogwarts until the perpetrator is caught...?"

"They are calling for your suspension."

The all too familiar stab of fear pierced his chest. He could not face the prospect of abandoning Harry in that castle, not after what happened just a few weeks earlier. The sight of him bloody and broken on those stairs rose too often in his memories already.

"Hogwarts is not under ministry control. They have no right to interfere."

"The ministry has convinced the board of governors that your refusal to take veritaserum or give up your memories puts you under suspicion and that until you submit to questioning you cannot hold the position of Potions Master."

"You cannot be serious."

"I am absolutely serious. We must do what we can in the days we have left, otherwise I will have no choice but to suspend you until your innocence is proven."

"You are jeopardising Harry's safety to satisfy the aurors. Question Moody again, or at the very least send us both from the castle."

"This is not what I want, Severus, but we have time to find a solution."

He paced in front of the fire, taking a moment to think. He needed to wring a confession from that man, or convince Albus completely in order to remain in the castle. It was doable; he knew who the culprit was and there was no need for blind panic or a frenzied search.

"I will return to the castle in two days when Harry leaves for the Weasley's," he announced finally, utterly determined. He had no intention whatsoever of moving out of the castle. He would convince the headmaster or wrest a confession from that man before Harry returned to school. There was not a chance in hell that Harry would go to Hogwarts with his attacker present and with Severus miles away, unable to help him.

---

H.P.

The Weasleys celebrated Christmas just how he imagined they would. The table was laden with leftovers and the house was alive and bustling with post-Christmas excitement and anticipation for the new year. Ron was eager to show him how a wizarding Christmas was done, either because he thought Harry hadn't had one this year or because he was attempting to prove he could keep his secret and act like he had been at the Dursleys this past week. Whichever was the case, Harry was just grateful his best mate was acting normal.

He'd worn his new Weasley jumper, which turned out to be a good idea as he'd only been there a few hours before the twins suggested they go out for a game of quidditch and he'd gone and left his winter coat at home. Mrs Weasley clucked disapprovingly and nagged at the lot of them to dress warmly, reminding him oddly of Snape, though he'd never dare mention it. The look on his face wouldn't make it worth it if he had to scrub out his cauldrons for the rest of the Christmas holidays.

He'd missed quidditch. He soared across the garden, catching the quaffle by just the tips of his fingers and launching it back at George. Part of him was worried he'd get rusty if he didn't have a chance to practice before next year’s game, and another part wondered who Snape would be rooting for.

His hand had very nearly frozen to his Firebolt, and he had a moment of panic when he landed when he thought his icy fingers wouldn’t peel off the broom. When they came back in, hungry and exhausted, Hermione greeted him with an enthusiastic hug.

She followed them up to Ron's room where they tossed spare gloves and scarves, but the moment the three of them were alone it was clear that Ron had merely held off his questioning until he had back up.

"So, what have you been doing?"

"Nothing as interesting as you guys. How was your Christmas, Hermione?" he asked in a futile attempt at deflection.

"Come off it," Ron snorted.

"Did you see Sirius?" Hermione whispered at the same time.

"Fine, yes," Harry admitted ungraciously, hoping that would convince them they’d worked out the secret.

"Well, how has it been? He's not still in that cave you mentioned, is he?" Ron asked.

"I don't see him there."

"It must be nice to see him, and to have somewhere else to go in the holidays," Hermione tried gently in a tone that got on his nerves.

"Mmm," Harry agreed, imitating Severus' mannerisms.

"There must be something you can tell us... Are you still training, you know, because of the prophecy?" Ron asked, lowering his voice so Harry had to lip-read.

"A bit. I practice tactics and stuff and I'm still doing occlumency," he murmured with a shrug, as if it was not all that important.

"But it's not Sirius who's teaching you?" Hermione questioned.

Harry sighed. "Both of you, can you just stop? If I can tell you something, I will. Can we just have fun while I’m here?"

"What can you tell us then?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Well," Harry considered, weighing his words carefully. "They reckon it was Moody that tried to kill me, but they don't have proof."

"Who reckons that?" Ron's face was screwed up in disbelief. "From what I heard they're pretty sure it's Snape."

"Dumbledore knows it wasn't Snape and it's a good thing too or no-one would have bothered looking for whoever did try to kill me."

"How do we know it wasn't him?" Ron replied stubbornly.

"If he wanted to off me then he would have done it over the summer." He tried his best not to sound too frustrated. "I'm just saying that it probably was Moody, so we should be careful."

"Of all the people in the castle... You know he's an ex-auror and he's pretty in with Dumbledore."

"He's got a reputation for being mental as well," Harry snapped, all the more supportive of Snape's theory the more Ron questioned it.

"Yeah? And Snape's got a reputation for being a Death Eater!"

"Maybe we should be careful of both of them, just in case," Hermione suggested. "I don't suppose there's anything else you can tell us?"

"I'd tell you everything, but I can't right now. Can we just enjoy Christmas?" he pleaded, looking from one to other. "Also, Fred asked if I'd try one of their new mince pies. I don't want to agree to that, do I?"

"No, and don't let Mum hear a word about it; she'd be livid if she knew they were still messing with all that. And avoid Percy if you can. I don't want to listen to him go on about his job any more..." Ron complained, leading them back downstairs where, despite Ron's best attempts to escape, they became caught up in a long-winded lecture on Percy Weasley's 'Great Memo Calamity' of the week before.

They stayed up chatting, watching Bill and Ginny, who were engaged in a heated Gobstones match, and Fred and George who were building an exploding snap pyramid on top of Percy’s work. The ensuing arguments were more than enough entertainment for the evening, but they all cleared promptly off to bed when Percy threatened to explain exactly why cauldron bottoms were such a hot topic at the ministry these days.

When Harry climbed into bed that night, stuffed full of good food thanks to Mrs Weasley's amazing cooking, he was barely disturbed by Ron's quiet snoring. He did his best to clear his mind before he let sleep take him too.

---

He awoke with a jolt, his scar burning and his heart beating painfully fast. Scrambling out of bed, stumbling onto Ron's as his foot twisted in his covers, he searched blindly for his stone and his glasses. Through the pain and his panic a manic euphoria surged through him, a rush of joy and anticipation that was not his own.

"Wuz goinon?"

"I can't find my glasses," Harry whispered. He felt wide-awake but struggled to think clearly through the pain. He needed Snape, he needed his potion and he had to tell him about his dream – something about a potion being ready. The details were fading fast and it was a struggle push through the burning and the confusion of emotions that weren't entirely his own.

"Why do you need your glasses?" Ron grumbled, rolling over and squinting at Harry in the dark.

"Allerta, Severus," he whispered, quiet enough that Ron shouldn't be able to catch it even if he was fully awake. "Accio glasses!"

"Where are you going?" Ron hopped out of bed as Harry pulled his Weasley jumper over his pyjamas.

"I need a potion for my head," he said, smothering a groan of pain, his breathing irregular. "And I need to speak to Sn– Dumbledore about something."

"Is this to do with You-Know-Who? Have you had another vision? My mum and dad will know what to do."

"No, I don't need your parents, I need Snape. I'm just– where's my cloak?" He pulled things haphazardly from his backpack with one hand as the other instinctively went up to his scar. "I'm going to floo to his. I'll come back," he said through gritted teeth.

"We've got potions here," Ron replied, not lowering his voice even though they were out on the landing.

"Shhh. Snape has a potion for my head."

"Mate, you're not thinking clearly," Ron hissed, following him down the stairs. "Fine, you want Snape, but he might be on patrol or something. We should check where he is on the map."

"Why would he be at the castle?"

"He's always at the castle in the holidays. Where's your map?" Ron asked, blocking his path. "Just let's have a look first, and then I'll move." Harry relented because he could barely stand, let alone argue his point. Snape wouldn't feel the stone right away, so he wouldn't be able to get here quickly... "Look, Look! He's in his office with Dumbledore."

"Why is he…?" Harry asked, snatching the map back. It didn't matter; he needed to see Snape and now he knew where he was.

"Harry, I think you've gone mental. I'm not just going to let you floo out to see Snape in the middle of the night." Ron made a grab for the floo powder before Harry could get to it. "He's the one they think has been trying to kill you. What was this vision about anyway?"

"Ron, my head." He took a breath, trying to make sense of his thoughts. "Snape has a potion for it. I need it and I need to tell someone about this vision now." He tried not to claw at his forehead, scrunching his hand into a painful fist to distract himself.

"Don't you need to occlude?"

"I can't occlude. If I could occlude I wouldn't have had a vision and I wouldn't need my potion," he snapped, pulling his wand out to summon the floo powder.

"Fine, we'll go," Ron said, making up his mind and holding the little pot tighter as if he could tell what Harry was thinking of doing.

"I'm going. You go back to bed."

"Have you seen yourself? You won't make it over there without help. Call Dobby."

"He's not discreet; Snape wouldn't like it," Harry replied, no longer caring if his replies made any sense.

"Make room under there," Ron said, slipping under the cloak with Harry and scanning the map. "Are we even going to be able to get into Hogwarts by floo?"

"Why not? We'll go in by Snape's rooms," Harry muttered, pinching some floo powder while Ron was distracted.

"Are you mad?" Ron whisper-shouted in his ear.

"He's in his office, so you aren't going to get into trouble." He dragged in a harsh breath. His emotions were entirely his own now, but the pain hadn't relented and little dots hovered in his vision.

"He'll go mad if we break into his rooms."

"Don't come then. Snape's quarters," he announced, throwing down the powder and holding Ron's arm for support as they spun past what felt like hundreds of grates.

"You all right?" Ron whispered as they picked themselves up after falling untidily from Snape's grate. He wasn't; mixing pain and floo travel was a terrible idea but he just needed to get to Snape and everything would be fine.

"Yes," Harry lied impatiently. "Castle's pretty empty, we should be all right." He didn't bother keeping quiet as he half-jogged to the front door, but Ron kept peering around as if expecting Snape to jump out at them at any moment, despite knowing he was in his office.

"He's going to be so mad..." he breathed. He kept his eyes fixed on the map as if terrified Snape would appear any second. "Someone's round the corner," he breathed, pointing at the little dot on the map. "What's Crouch doing down here?"

Harry shrugged as they slowed their steps, the better to sneak past without being heard. They tiptoed round the corner, Harry's eyes trained on the map as well, the better to check the route to Snape's office. The way Snape's dot seemed to be pacing up and down, they were probably arguing. He looked up though, when Ron stopped suddenly.

"But that's not..." Ron said, looking down at the map again, his face contorted in confusion.

Harry stifled a gasp with difficulty, pulling Ron back with a tug on his sleeve, and praying that Crouch or Moody or whoever that was didn't turn around.

"He can see through the cloak," he mouthed, eyes wide.

"It's far too late to back away now, boys," the impostor said suddenly, without turning to face them. He could see out of the back of his head too. Harry folded the map shut as nonchalantly as possible and slipped the parchment into Ron's hand.

"Sorry, sir." He kept his voice casual as if he didn't expect any more trouble than the last time Moody had caught him under his cloak after hours. He tried not to let his pain or fear show on his face. This impostor wouldn't necessarily do anything, not when Ron was here to see it.

"It's past curfew, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley," he said, turning slowly with his wand already drawn. Could his magical eye see anything else, like how fast his heart was beating in his chest? "You two aren't supposed to be in the castle, but here you are. You've wandered into my path at such an opportune time, invisible to everyone and no one knows where you are." By the time he finished speaking, he sounded a lot less like Moody as they knew him. A slow smile spread across his face and an eager gleam shone in his one good eye.

Even if Snape felt the stone, he didn't know where he was and this was a real emergency.

"Dobby," Harry called, summoning the little elf.

The loud crack of his apparition was followed by the immediate harsh syllables of "Avada Kedavra." The fake Moody's wand was trained on the spot Dobby had appeared, and he died the moment he materialised, collapsing in a heap at their feet.

Harry froze and Ron let out an involuntary cry as they stared at Dobby’s body sprawled lifelessly at their feet.

"Look what you made me do, Potter. No, don't reach for your wand, boy."

He tried to ignore Ron's quick breathing as he edged carefully in front of him.

"You're not Moody," Harry stated, buying time.

"But I'm convincing. I must thank you for this opportunity after you've been so difficult this year. Backing out of the tournament… my master was very disappointed when he heard the news and I don't like to disappoint my master. I live to serve, Potter."

"Who, Voldemort? He's not even alive. What kind of person acts the slave for someone who doesn't even have a body?" Harry sneered, trying to shake off the remaining pain in his scar to concentrate on what was going on. Snape hadn't prepared him for this; he couldn't have his wits about him if he could barely think. His eyes kept darting to where Dobby's body lay. Maybe house elf magic could have stopped the curse, maybe he'd wake up.

"You're going to have the honour of rectifying that." Impostor-Moody fished in his robes for a moment, pulling something small out of his pocket and tapping it twice with his wand. Sensing his distraction Ron grabbed Harry's robes, pulling him back and they began to run around the corner.

"Find Snape!" Harry yelled as they dashed along the dark corridor. He ripped off the cloak to stop them tripping over their feet. Bloody pointless anyway if he could see through it.

"I'm not leaving you here."

"He wants to capture me, but he'll kill you. Run." He gave Ron an almighty shove through a hanging tapestry that disguised a narrow corridor, trusting that when Crouch/Moody rounded the corner and spotted him, he would leave Ron to chase him. He sprinted as fast as he could, cursing the lack of convenient side corridors to duck into and hide as he heard the rapid and steady thunk of wooden cane against the stone floor.

S.S.

"I can do nothing if I am not at Hogwarts," Severus seethed as they waited for Moody to arrive for their 'meeting'. "What kind of spy could I claim to be if I am not trusted to inhabit this castle?"

"It is not that I do not trust you, which is the key issue."

"No, it isn't. The Dark Lord will see that I am useless to him if you allow them to remove me. I must be in a position to spy for you when the Dark Lord returns. Everything is at stake here."

"I will resolve this, Severus. I do not want you removed from the castle and it is just as important to me that you are able to continue spying when the time comes."

"Then do not have me taken from the castle. Do not allow them to do this," he argued, irritated at the headmaster's calmness and at the fact that he was allowing this 'meeting' only to disprove Severus' theory that it was Moody who was behind the attack. "I will not sit at home waiting for someone to hurt Harry in my absence merely to prove that it is not me who is a threat to him."

"If it comes to it and you must leave Harry will be fine. We can all see that you're doing all you can to protect him. Lily would have been proud–"

"This isn't about Lily, not any more than it is about his father. It is about Harry."

Rapid footsteps slapped along the stone corridor outside his office and they both looked round as the door barrelled open with too much force, crashing into the wall with a resounding slam.

"Professor, help. He– took Harry, Moody, no, Crouch– he took him," the Weasley boy gasped, hanging off the doorframe and waving a piece of parchment. A chill swept through Severus from head to foot, even before he registered the mangled words spilling from the boy's lips.

"What exactly has happened, Mr Weasley?" The headmaster asked as Severus thrust his hand into the inner pockets of his robes, searching frantically for his stone that linked with Harry's. His fingers closed around the smooth stone, and it burned with a heat he had not registered through the layers. He dropped it with a clatter onto the table and regarded it with horror. Harry was in danger; he'd needed Severus and he hadn't heeded his call.

"Speak Weasley! Where is he?" he rounded on the boy, who by now appeared close to tears with panic.

"He's not on the map," he exclaimed, holding the parchment out once more, and this time the headmaster took it from him, studying it intently. "Moody, no, Crouch – he was polyjuiced to look like Moody – he took Harry and he killed Dobby."

"Professor Dumbledore, I caught this one out of bounds," Filch wheezed, appearing suddenly in the doorway behind Weasley.

"Mr Filch, one of our house-elves has been murdered. Where is the body, Mr Weasley?"

"Near Professor Snape's rooms."

"See to it that the body is moved where no children will come across it. One of our students has been kidnapped. Ensure no other students are roaming the corridors this evening."

Severus wrenched up his sleeve to check the ugly mark tattooed on his arm. No darker; it had not returned. He had not returned. "Where has Moody taken him?" he questioned Weasley.

"He didn't say!"

"What did he say? Why were you two here?" he thundered.

"Minerva McGonagall's quarters," called the headmaster behind them. Severus ignored the whoosh of the fire and stared intensely down at the boy; there must be something he could tell them that would lead them to Harry.

"He said he was working for You-Know-Who and something, something about getting his body back."

"Professor McGonagall is contacting your parents Mr Weasley. They'll be here shortly," the headmaster interrupted, guiding Weasley to a chair.

"He was working for the Dark Lord. He's taken Harry straight to him," Severus bellowed, rounding on the headmaster, hating his composure.

"Harry wanted you," the Weasley boy said shakily, looking up at him, perplexed. "His scar was hurting and he had a vision–"

The sound of rapid breathing filled the room and had everyone but Severus glancing about for its source. Then came a muffled thud and a low groan of pain and Severus sank silently and heavily into a chair, his eyes trained on the stone.

"You're about to be part of a magnificent rebirth," came a gravelly tone, amplified by the stone's magic and infused with the maniacal anticipation and excitement of a fanatic.

 

S.S.

"Do this elsewhere," Severus roared in the din caused by the arrival of Weasley's parents. Exclamations of horror mingled with relief rang out in the room, drowning out the sounds of Harry's laboured breathing that the new arrivals had not yet noticed. At his shout the occupants of the room paused and fell silent, turning to Severus who was glaring furiously. He leant protectively over the small stone, his only link to Harry, his only source of information.

The headmaster shepherded the Weasley's out of the room. He remained behind a moment and Severus, straining to hear anything from the stone that might give him a clue as to Harry's whereabouts, did not catch what he said to Minerva before he left the room.

"No, get off me," Harry gasped, the sounds of crunching leaves and twigs dying away to be replaced by harsh spells and a sharp hiss of pain.

"Is that–" Minerva began, her expression appalled as she realised what she was hearing. Severus silenced her with a gesture, his heart thumping uncomfortably fast.

"We don't want you going anywhere, do we now?" Moody growled, his voice coming across slightly quieter than Harry's. It was unbearable to hear, yet unthinkable to leave. Keep talking, say something, gloat even, as long as it led them to Harry.

Crouch evidently had nothing more to say or, as was far more likely, something more significant than taunting Harry was taking up his attention.

"No, no, no, no..." Harry moaned.

"My Lord..." Crouch said, Moody's voice utterly imploring. Severus clenched his eyes shut.

H.P.

The child-sized creature filled him with dread and a sinking sense of déjà vu as he pulled on the conjured ropes that bound him to the gravestone, burning his wrists on the cords. Disgust or the blinding pain in his scar, which had returned full force and only got worse as it came closer, made him retch. Crouch bent low as it approached, and Harry was able to see who held the creature.

"I should have let them kill you," he spat, vigorously renewing his efforts to free himself.

Wormtail ignored him, handing the shrunken thing to the impostor who took it reverentially. Harry shuddered, instinctively jerking as far as his bindings would allow when the infant-creature shifted in the impostor's arms. He bit his lip, hard, in an attempt not to cry out. It was Voldemort, he knew it. He could feel it in the pain coursing through his scar, in the memories struggling to resurface, in the horror emanating from Wormtail as he scurried about the graveyard.

"It is ready, my Lord," Wormtail declared, now finished scampering around the large cauldron he had summoned to the clearing. The news had the impostor Moody in raptures, his features glazed with fanatical delight.

"It is time, finally," the creature spoke for the first time, its voice weak but for all that still terrifying. When it seemed as though Crouch would approach the cauldron with him, the reedy voice spoke once more. "This is Wormtail's honour, a reward for his faithful service of late." Moody's face spoke volumes of disappointment and resentment as he allowed Wormtail to hold Voldemort in his place, a look that was mirrored perfectly in Wormtail's features.

"Don't," Harry whispered as he passed, carrying the creature to the rim of the cauldron. "You don't have to do this." Part of him hoped that if he could just get him to stop, to not put that thing in the cauldron, that everything could be all right...

"Shut up," he impostor spat and flecks of spittle landed on his cheek, even as he turned is face aside. "Yours is the greatest honour, understand? It was fate, Potter, that you were put in my reach just as we were ready... You were meant to bring him back, greater than ever before..."

He was insane. The impostor's features shifted as he spoke, his fake eye popping obscenely out of its socket, rolling down his face and tumbling to the ground. His skin began to ripple and change, smoothing out, and his nose became whole. Harry watched the transformation with horror; it was preferable to watching Pettigrew and that– that thing, but when it was over, he didn’t see the man he expected.

"You're not Crouch," he said dumbly. The impostor's attention had shifted; he was watching the scene before him raptly and did not reply.

S.S.

"Oh, dear Merlin," McGonagall gasped over Wormtail's monotonous intonation. That cowardly traitor was bringing him back, that worthless rat had led the Dark Lord to Lily and now he would deliver him his son.

"Bone of the father..." Severus repeated quietly, his lips moving numbly. "Where is the Dark Lord's father buried? ALBUS," he bellowed, surging out of his seat, caught between seeking answers and listening to the stone. "Don't just stand there; get him in here," he shouted at Minerva when she didn't immediately move to summon him.

It turned out that it wasn't necessary as within seconds the headmaster had re-entered the room, his gaze questioning. "Where is the Dark Lord's father buried?" he whispered, trying to communicate without missing a thing. He gritted his teeth as Pettigrew's voice continued, louder, closer to Harry.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken..."

"Give me a moment and I will find out," he answered calmly. "Minerva, if you could contact Remus Lupin. Ask him to bring his dog and wait for me in my office. Explain nothing."

No sound emanated from the stone after Pettigrew fell silent, save for the rat’s own whimpers. It would have been better if the cowardly worm had chopped his head off instead of whatever had fallen into that cauldron. No matter, it was better this way, he would murder Pettigrew himself after he'd murdered the lunatic who had taken his son. It wouldn't be a clean death; it would be long, drawn out and painful. A plethora of gruesome tortures crossed Severus' mind as he considered what he would do to them. They would regret laying their hands on Harry...

"My robe, Wormtail." A cold, commanding voice filled the room and a shiver coursed through Severus.

H.P.

"Welcome, Harry Potter, to my rebirth," Voldemort announced, spreading his arms wide and smiling grotesquely at Harry as he stood trembling from the pain and the cold.

"My Lord... My Lord... I brought him to you..." The imposter prostrated himself on the ground.

"And in such a timely manner. You will be rewarded."

"I'd hold off on that if I were you." He wouldn't stand there bound and silent if this was how he was going to go. "He wasn't exactly discreet. Dumbledore knows I've been taken, so how long do you reckon you've got before he shows up?" he scoffed, trying to sound braver than he felt. For a moment it seemed as though Voldemort would get angry but a split-second later, he turned to Harry and stared like he was a peculiar specimen to be examined. He held out a hand to hold back the young imposter as he made to lash out at Harry.

"Now, now, Barty, let's not begin the fun before the others have arrived."

Apparently he didn't deem the vague threat worth a reply and Harry could see why. Even he didn't know where he was, how was Dumbledore going to know where to come?

"Thirteen long years it has been. How many will answer the summons?"

If Harry thought he had a chance of escaping when it was three against one, any hopes of survival were dashed when the graveyard began to fill with gruesomely masked Death Eaters swathed in black robes. He was vastly outnumbered, tied up, bleeding, and every pair of eyes in the ever-widening circle belonged to someone who wanted him to die.

S.S.

He felt a thrill of victory as the mark on his forearm burned strongly and he flew out of his seat, intent on leaving the castle the moment he got his hands on his mask and robes.

"No, Severus." The headmaster spoke firmly, understanding immediately.

"I will not wait for you to conclude that you don't know where this graveyard is," he exploded. He had sat there for long enough as the headmaster pored over maps and notes, searching for the most likely location. "I can apparate in and I can apparate out."

The headmaster moved surprisingly quickly for a man of his age, blocking Severus' exit. "And I will not have the pair of you killed. You will be vastly outnumbered."

"I cannot sit here and do nothing."

"Expelliarmus." He'd barely touched his wand when it flew from his fingertips. In a rapid volley of wordless spells Severus was thrown back into his seat and bound securely in place. It was a feat of magic that reminded Severus that he was dealing with an immensely powerful, meddling old coot. "I do apologise, but I cannot risk losing the both of you."

"Release me! Albus, let me get him. Do not make me listen to him die," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his tone.

"I do not think he will die," the headmaster said calmly, even as the crack of apparition echoed through the stone, and the graveyard where his son was bound filled with Death Eaters. "You will be pleased to hear that I believe I do know where he is. I must go and make the arrangements, but you will not go alone to save him."

"I will not forgive you for this."

H.P.

Harry tumbled to the floor as the thick ropes holding him to the gravestone disappeared. He scrambled to his feet, taking in the Death Eaters who surrounded him, Wormtail bleeding on the grass at his master's feet, and the impostor.

"This boy, look upon him all of you, this boy is considered my downfall." Voldemort spoke slowly, circling him and staring at each of his Death Eaters in turn. Harry too scanned the circle, looking for a point of weakness, unsure whether he should even hope that Snape had come for him, that his face could be behind one of those hideous masks. "Harry Potter did not defeat me. I was torn from my body on that fateful night by powerful magic, powerful blood magic that as of tonight no longer protects him."

He paused directly in front of Harry so that he was forced to avert his gaze, trying to occlude through the panic and the pain. Don't think about Snape, don't let him find out, don't think about Snape. "Your blood flows through my veins. I can touch you now..." He regarded Harry with a slow, sinister smile, his hand outstretched, and proved his point with a malevolent caress.

Harry cracked his head sharply back into the headstone as he arched away from the touch, barely registering the sensation as his scar became blindingly painful. "Stripped of his Mudblood mother's protection there will be no question as to who is more powerful." He turned back to face Harry, fixing him with a stare that left him in no doubt of his intent. "I will kill you, Harry Potter, easily."

"What about my wand? Too scared to have a fair fight?" Harry challenged, levelling his gaze over Voldemort's shoulder into the blackness of the night, trying not to shiver in the freezing air. What had Snape taught him? Not much that he could use wandless and outnumbered, that was for sure. He wracked his brains, trying simultaneously to put all thoughts of Snape to the back of his mind while thinking desperately of everything he had learnt.

"Scared?" Voldemort laughed and the Death Eaters quickly followed suit. The chilling chorus echoed through the graveyard, but Harry stood his ground. He had no chance of escape unarmed.

"My wand?" Harry demanded, lifting his chin defiantly.

"Give the boy his wand. I'll even let you cast the first spell. You should thank me for my genero–"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry threw caution to the wind, snatching his wand back from the imposter and casting the moment he had a secure grip. He leaped back, throwing himself swiftly behind the very gravestone that he'd been straining to get away from. The Death Eaters in the circle shifted, unsure whether to retaliate on Voldemort's behalf. There was no need though; he'd evaded the spell easily.

"Such poor duelling etiquette, but what can we expect of a boy with such poor breeding? Come out, Harry Potter, come out and face me..." The Death Eaters jeered at him as he hid and a moment later he was thrown forward as the stone he was resting against split with an almighty crack. He scrabbled to his feet, grabbing his wand from where it had fallen while Voldemort looked on, smiling indulgently and twirling his wand lazily in his long fingered grasp.

Harry jerked his face to the side, trying to clear his mind and not think of the prophecy or Snape as his concentration slipped and he found himself staring, appalled, at Voldemort's red, inhuman eyes.

"Why, Mr Potter." Voldemort tilted his head, considering. "It's considered rude not to look your opponent in the face. Do me the honour, the courtesy, if you will." Harry's heart thumped hard in his chest. He'd slipped up; Voldemort knew he was trying to hide something.

"I'd rather not." Harry gripped his wand tightly, ready to cast again when the moment was right.

"I insist. Imperio. Look at me, look me in the eye..." Harry was caught up in a familiar sensation of floating, of being outside of himself and all his cares... He'd been so stressed, so panicked just a moment ago, but why? Wouldn't it be so easy just to do what he says? "Look at me..." Something was telling him that he shouldn't look him in the eye. Why was that important? Occlumency – if he looked him in the eye he would know everything... He had a secret, an important secret... Snape! He couldn't tell about Snape...

"He can resist the imperius curse," the imposter supplied from outside the pleasant haze, and suddenly sensation surged back full force.

Harry took advantage of the moment of reprieve as Voldemort turned his wand against the Death Eater and the heavy fog lifted. He needed to clear his mind... He needed to be calm...He needed to not think about Snape or the prophecy...

"Evidently," was his scathing response before he turned his attention, too soon, back to Harry. A moment later, avoiding his gaze became a good deal more difficult as stark black robes filled his vision and sharp fingernails dug into his cheeks, forcing his face upwards. "The old fool has been wasting his efforts. I will best you, Potter, every time."

"Not every time, Tom," he replied, shutting his eyes.

"I could see the truth in a moment, but before I kill you, I will make you tell me what Dumbledore has you trying so hard to keep from me. Before this night is over, you will be begging to spill your secrets."

Harry thrust his wand forward, ducking out of his claw-like grip, and scratching deep gashes across his face. "Stupe–"

"Crucio."

His wand slipped from his grasp and he crumpled to the floor as an indescribable pain flared along nerve, every inch of skin and he screamed. There was nothing but the pain, no escape, no sensation except the excruciating agony that endured and endured... Until it was over. He breathed heavily, splayed out on the frozen ground as Voldemort laughed and the Death Eaters followed suit. He struggled onto his knees and grabbed his wand from the icy grass.

"Are you aware that pain can drive you insane? Tell me, is your secret worth your sanity?"

"Screw you, Tom."

"Crucio."

S.S.

Severus clenched his eyes shut, straining against his bindings as a relentless screaming filled the office. The sound was unbearable. Severus knew what pain was coursing through his veins, scorching across his skin, seeping through his very bones. It was the kind of torture that made you wish you could die, end it all, to welcome that blissful emptiness of death.

Severus let out an inarticulate howl, giving another almighty wrench that burned across his arms and chest. Nothing, no secret was worth the agony that child was being put through.

"Oh, Severus," came a pitying gasp from the doorway. He glared at Lupin from where he sat, trapped. The man made no move to untie him. "There are more of us coming. Albus is arranging this as fast as he can." The screaming intensified and blood dripped from the cuts on Severus’ palm, where his fingers were curled into fists.

He ignored Lupin's presence just as the man ignored his bindings. He stared past the wolf, looking but not seeing the desk, which remained just as the headmaster had left it before exiting the room, leaving behind nothing but mess and empty assurances. Harry refused once more to speak, his voice weakening but his will unbroken.

"He's making a portkey. We'll be leaving as soon as everyone's here," Lupin murmured helplessly.

"I could have saved him already!" he bellowed over Harry's cries. "Instead I am forced to sit here and listen to him be tortured."

"You might have failed and gotten yourself killed in the attempt," he said as if that was a reason for him to stay, as if that excused the fact that he was sitting in this office instead of apparating Harry out of that graveyard.

He blinked the room back into focus, perfectly willing to take every ounce of anger and rage he had on this irritating man who dared stand there and defend the headmaster. "It is my– what is that?" His gaze landed suddenly on the word 'scar?' written in Albus' loopy script amongst an assortment of maps and parchments. "Give me that list," he ordered, eyes locked on the notes.

Lupin didn't move for a moment, startled by the change of subject. He looked down at the desk himself, no doubt recognising the handwriting, and shook his head. "We need to trust Albus. I doubt he would want either of us going through his paperwork. There are some things I don't think we're meant to know."

"When he left this room he told me that he did not think Harry would die. He did not say it out of some misguided attempt to give me comfort; he said it because he believes it."

"That's good news–"

"I am listening to Harry scream and the headmaster does not care because he has some damn fool idea that he will come out of this alive. He does not care what pain he has to endure, what trauma this will cause. Albus cares more for the outcome of the next war than he does my son! He will use him. If there is some information, something about Harry, would you not rather that information be in the hands of someone who does care about him?"

Lupin shut his eyes as if he could block out Severus' words and Harry's cries, his face far paler now than when he had entered the room. He handed the parchment wordlessly to Severus, though he turned away as he read, as if he did not want to see for himself what was written on the scroll. Severus struggled to keep the parchment unfurled with only one hand, which shook as Harry's screams began once more.

H.P.

"You need only submit... Tell us... Tell us and the pain will end..."

He could barely get the word out through his painfully raw throat.

"No." He might not be able to occlude, but he could keep his mouth shut. Voldemort couldn't control him, not with the imperius curse and not with torture.

"No? He dares say no?" Harry tried desperately to scoop up his wand as Voldemort stalked towards him, but his hand refused to obey him, twitching uncontrollably in the long grass as his body convulsed and jerked, still affected by the curses it had been subject to. He couldn't pull back in time to stop his face being grasped once more, but he shut his eyes, failing completely to master his thoughts and falling back into the only defence he had left. Voldemort was losing his patience with this game as it became clear that Harry would not give in.

"You're broken, Harry Potter, but I want your mind intact... I want you to know that it was I who bested you..." Still holding his face, Voldemort cursed him again. "Crucio."

Harry's eyes flew open as he lost control and he knew instantly that Voldemort had seen what was at the very forefront of his mind. Fury was written on his face for a split second before he began laughing, a maniacal laugh that was so short lived that it could only have been for show.

"You've put your faith in the wrong man, Harry Potter," he sneered before turning to address the Death Eaters once more. "Severus Snape! Where is Severus Snape? He is not among us. Who here knows the extent of his disloyalty, his treachery? Lucius, what can you tell me?"

Harry had no emotion to spare to care that it was Lucius Malfoy standing in that circle, wearing that mask, watching as he was tortured.

"He works for Dumbledore, my Lord." His voice was different as he attempted to speak with humility as opposed to sneering superiority, but Harry could hear his confusion and almost panic as he realised that he did not have the answer that Voldemort was looking for.

Harry fought to control his limbs, taking harsh gasps and grasping for his wand, his fingers beginning to turn numb in the biting cold.

"Barty, my loyal servant, what have you to tell me?" Voldemort asked, striding around the edge of the circle.

"He is loyal to Dumbledore..."

"The magic that saved this boy as a baby, that reduced me to a ghost of myself had dissolved and not one of you knew. Harry Potter no longer lives with his filthy muggle relatives... He has been taken in by our very own Severus Snape, who had planned to re-enter our ranks as a spy, a double agent for Albus Dumbledore."

Harry's hand closed finally around his wand as Voldemort turned back to face him.

"I have summoned him and he has chosen not to come. He knows he cannot save you and that you will die by my hands."

S.S.

Severus tempered the betrayal and anger surging through him as the headmaster reappeared once more. He had secured the list in his robes with the reluctant aid of Lupin and had no intention of letting it go.

"He knows," he stated grimly as the Dark Lord continued a lengthy diatribe describing what happens to filthy traitors like Severus Snape.

"About the prophecy?" the headmaster queried quickly.

"About me, that I was planning to spy on him and that I have taken Harry in. Any objections you have to me taking this portkey are void. I have no cover to maintain any more." He kept his tone controlled and his manner as calm as he could manage, but his hands still shook, whether from rage or horror he could no longer tell.

"You are unwilling to consider the option of claiming that you were merely brainwashing the child, that you took an opportunity to sever him from his mother's blood protection and gain his trust...?"

"Yes, I'm unwilling!" he spat in disgust. "I'm going with you to save him."

"I've explained the plan to the others, and it will be followed to the letter," he said and Severus grimaced as he spoke clearly and slowly, with no sense of urgency or regard for Harry's chances of survival, which were dropping by the second. "The portkey should take us outside of any wards placed on the graveyard. The rest of us will begin to attack the wards while you cross them in your robes and mask. You will attempt to apparate Harry to safety in the confusion. If you are unable to for any reason then protect him as best you can until we break through. Is that clear? Do not reveal yourself."

Severus nodded shortly, distracted as Voldemort turned his attention to taunting Harry once more. The headmaster cast a finite and the silence was oppressive, weighing heavily on Severus' chest as he stared blankly at the soundless stone. The Dark Lord could kill him in an instant, he could be dead already...

"Severus?"

"I assume you're planning on releasing me or will I be forced to do all of that sitting down?"

"Can I trust you to follow orders, Severus?"

"I'll follow your orders, but let's not discuss trust," he replied, unable to stop the betrayal entering his voice.

"The portkey leaves in two minutes. We are next door when you are ready." With a wave of his wand he banished his notes out of the room then placed Severus' wand on the desk, only releasing him from his constraints as he left the room.

---

The advantage of the portkey was that their arrival would go relatively unnoticed provided the group were light on their feet as they closed in on the graveyard. The night was cold and their breath rose in grey clouds in front of their faces, but the idea that Harry would likely catch pneumonia in this weather, out in only his pyjamas, was the least of his worries.

The village they crept through was still and silent and did not seem to be the type that attracted nocturnal walks through the streets, not by muggles at any rate. No one spoke a word, or growled as in the case of Black who loped alongside them, nose low on the ground as if he was trying to sniff out Harry's location. Why did they have to portkey so damned far from the graveyard?

The group slowed as they arrived at a stately home that was in a state of disrepair and encompassed in Pettigrew's wholly inadequate warding. Albus would be more than capable of taking care of them in short order, even without the witches and wizards accompanying them. Nevertheless, in the shadows the group assembled itself at intervals along the boundary of the wards. Severus donned his mask and, gliding a miniscule distance above the ground, silently manoeuvred himself to a less conspicuous position.

Hopefully Pettigrew did not have the sense to give his wards an alarm system and would have only sought to keep out anyone who did not bear the Dark Mark. The Dark Lord, in his arrogance, had obviously not considered reinforcing the wards since his rebirth, which worked in their favour as Severus hovered carefully, not crunching a leaf, nor snapping a twig as he hid out of sight amongst the trees.

Something had changed since he had abandoned the stone in his office. Instead of the sound of Harry's screams, the night was filled with panicked shouts and confused cries. When the graveyard came into view, the cause was evident. The masked and robed men were torn between helping their newly reborn master and fleeing, some skirting the edge of a massive golden dome in the centre of the gravestones.

What had that boy managed to do? The child was alive at least, and had the strength to fight back. He didn't know what dumb Gryffindor luck was at work, but he intended to get to him before it ran out.

There was no call for precaution in the pandemonium and he raced closer, keeping his movements as agitated as those around him, skirting around the edge of the golden cage. Between the golden rays he could see the Dark Lord and Harry, their wands connected by a similar golden beam, but there were other figures, difficult to make out even in the bright light.

He staggered back suddenly, losing his footing. That could not be... But how could he not recognise her? Even after all these years, even transformed by colourless death, he recognised Lily and the sound of her voice.

"We will be gone in a few moments, but you will be safe. They've come for you." He would swear that for a moment the ghostly figure took her eyes off her son, her gaze piercing through his mask.

"But what do I do?" Harry asked, staring wide-eyed up at his mother, holding onto his wand with what looked like all his strength.

"We'll linger for a few moments and hold him off. You just need to run," James Potter instructed his son.

"But where–?

Lily reassured him. "He's waiting for you, and he'll take you away from here. When we say now, go."

"I–"

"Now!"

With what looked like an almighty wrench, Harry severed the link between them and the great golden dome disintegrated. The ghostly figures surged towards the Dark Lord and the nearby Death Eaters. Only as he realised that Harry was getting away did the shock begin to wear off and he regained feeling in his limbs, enough at least to tear after him, his long strides allowing him to gain on him quickly. He barrelled hard into another Death Eater who ran alongside him with his wand trained on Harry and launched him into a headstone with a loud crack. He shot a hex at another directly in Harry's path as the child weaved his way unsteadily through the graves.

"Harry!" he shouted through his mask, and it had the desired effect, slowing him enough that he careened into him, apparating them the instant he had a secure grip.

He was panting with exertion as he landed them in a painful slam that not even the grass could cushion. He was instinctively holding Harry close, expecting the jerks from the boy as he struggled, not realising that he was safe, but when he looked down at him, he saw that he’d fallen unconsciousness, unable to tolerate a violent and sudden apparition on top of all the trauma he’d been forced to endure.

Severus ripped off the vision-impairing mask, scanning the child with his wand to assess the damage. He was wracked with convulsions and twitches even in his unconscious state, his nerves damaged beyond what he had the ability to treat. He was colder than he had any right to be, but he was less bruised and battered than he could have been, although the sight of the deep, bloody scratches down his face made his heart ache.

He stared down at him in silence, revelling in this one moment of safety, of knowing that Harry had made it out alive and that he would come home, before he gathered him close and took him to Poppy.

---

"Well done, Severus," the headmaster congratulated him warmly. "I expect you're relieved he's finally safe and sound." Despite the kind words and the polite tone, he could see that his employer was wrong-footed by his request for a private meeting when so much needed to be done.

He pulled out a loose scroll of parchment from the inside of his robes. "What is this?"

The headmaster was silent for a moment, contemplating the list and the man holding it outstretched in his hand. "Nothing more than an old man's notes jotted down while he researched."

"Notes you kept. They mean something," he pressed. "You told me that you did not think he would die, and this was amongst your information on the Dark Lord. You think you know something about Harry and I want to know what it is."

"I do not know anything for certain," the headmaster denied, watching Severus carefully from behind his half-moon spectacles.

"You suspect something. What is this?"

He sighed deeply, appearing weary for the first time that night. "There are some things that it is best that only I know for the time being."

"No." He shook his head to reinforce his point. "Not where Harry is concerned. You care about this war more than you do my son, so if you want his cooperation and mine then I want all the information."

"I don't believe you're in a position to make threats."

"I'll do what I must for him. You asked too much of me when you took away my right to save him. You forced me to hear him be tortured, being told that I would not lift a finger to rescue him!"

"I was protecting both of you. It is my job to make difficult decisions."

"Not for Harry, not any more," Severus replied, forcefully. "I'm his guardian and if I have to, I'll protect him from you too."

The headmaster's expression turned hard. "I don't like to remind you that your guardianship is neither legal nor officially recognised. In fact, your situation has become decidedly precarious. It is only a matter of time before the information is leaked to the ministry and they become involved in his guardianship." The implication that the headmaster's support depended on his attitude was left hanging in the air.

"And if you want Harry's trust and goodwill then you will ensure he isn't taken from me, and if I take steps to make our living arrangement legal then you will support me in that too. You cannot afford to erode Harry's trust in you any more than you have done already."

"Adoption isn't a commitment to be taken lightly or on a whim, or even in anger."

"I assure you I'm not taking this lightly. Whatever you have planned, whatever your scheme, he will have no part in it." He was determined, utterly determined and he would not be moved on the subject. Undoubtedly, Albus sensed this, exhaling tiredly and pulling his 'weary old man' routine as he settled into the chair behind the teacher's desk, managing instantly to turn the disused classroom into his pseudo-office. "Tell me what this means," Severus asked once more, certain that this time he would have his answer.

"I must stress that I know nothing for certain, but what I suspect may well be difficult for you to hear. Does the word Horcrux mean anything to you?"

He could not bear to look at the man as he told him that his son was destined to die. It made no sense, neither could live while the other survived... If it was true, if there was a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul in his scar then in order for the Dark Lord to die, Harry must die. It made sense with the pain that Harry experienced and the peculiar mental connection he had to the Dark Lord.

He was speechless in his grief, not even possessing the will to scream at the headmaster for hiding this from him and, worse yet, telling him. Severus was startled out of his horrified musings as a silvery messenger appeared. "He's awake," it murmured in Lupin's voice, and he stood, giving the headmaster a look of deepest loathing before striding to the hospital wing."

---

He swallowed something back as he stared at Harry, his relief at having him back tempered by the knowledge of what was lurking inside him. The boy looked small in his hospital bed, crowded by his head of house, Lupin and his large 'dog', and more of the Weasley family than he wanted in one room. As they approached, it became obvious that in the short time since Harry had awoken he'd already started a rather fierce argument with the matron.

"I'm not taking it." Harry pulled back stubbornly as far as his pillows would allow to avoid the proffered potion. Severus frowned as the child struggled to support himself, his body still plagued by continual jerks and spasms symptomatic of severe nerve damage. Whatever Poppy had done for him had not been enough to cure him of the after-effects of continuous bouts of the cruciatus curse. Harry remained resolutely deaf to persuasion from the adults around him even as the Weasley woman cooed and fussed around him.

"I'm not going to sleep. You said you were getting Snape," he complained, rounding on Lupin, not noticing either the headmaster or him as they made their way across the room.

"Professor Dumbledore," Poppy appealed in a harassed tone the moment she spotted them. "Mr Potter needs rest and dreamless sleep." Any further attempts to convince Harry to drink his potion were completely ignored as soon as Harry, too, noticed their arrival.

"Sir!" he exclaimed loudly, almost throwing himself out of bed and stopping short only when Lupin threw out a hand to hold him back. In that instant he did not care what unseen evil the child carried in his scar because he would save him from that too. There would be a way, and if there was not one known, he would discover it and his son would damn well live.

"I just want– Sir!" Harry called, trying to get past Lupin. He gave a minute shake of the head, keeping his distance. He may have accepted that his guardianship of the boy was going to become general knowledge, but he had no intention of dealing with that issue now, not when neither of them were in a position to handle the inevitable backlash.

The headmaster, perhaps sensing that Harry would not be able contain himself for long, ushered Poppy out of the room with vague assurances that yes, Harry would certainly have his potion, but they had things to discuss, and no, it really could not wait.

"I was worried you'd gone. He knows," Harry said, paying no heed to the crowd around his bed and staring up at Severus with wide-eyed relief.

"I know," he replied simply, attempting to silently communicate to the headmaster that he needed privacy to reassure Harry. He was well aware that he did not, in fact, possess any psychic skills, but was certain that his employer was being deliberately obtuse as he merely regarded the pair of them silently. He had thought a few moments ago that he could not be more furious with the man.

"You're not going then? Sir?" Harry pressed, unaware of the mounting confusion in the room, focused as he was on getting an answer.

"Could you?" He gestured impatiently towards the boy's friends. Lupin seemed capable of taking a hint, but his attempts to usher the others away from the child went either unnoticed or ignored. Despite Severus' brain urging for caution, he could not help but take a step closer to the child.

"Severus?" the headmaster replied innocently, and he growled aloud, struggling not to lose his temper. It was one thing to take out his anger out on Severus, but it was Harry who would suffer for it! Harry who did not deserve it, whose suffering was increasing even as they spoke.

"Now is not the time–" he began, until Harry interrupted loudly.

"Sir, please don't go. He'll kill you! He knows," he said desperately.

"It is not up to you to dictate what Professor Snape may or may not do," Minerva said firmly, with a warning look at Severus as if she was concerned that he would turn his anger on the boy in the state he was in. "Perhaps it's best you leave, Severus. Mr Potter needs rest after what he's been through, not agitation."

Minerva's attempts to diffuse the situation, however well intended, backfired when Harry leaped from his bed, unsteadily grabbing hold of Severus' arm. "No! Sir, please, you can't go. He's angry and he knows. If you go, he'll kill you. I'm not making it up," he babbled incoherently, and it was clear that he was close to hysterical. "I don't want you to spy; I want you to be my dad."

He looked down at Harry, aghast, in the absolute silence that followed his desperate declaration. Harry wavered where he stood, having to hold onto Severus with both hands to remain on his feet, bringing Severus back to his senses.

He detached one of Harry's hands from his arm and grasped it firmly. "I'm not going anywhere." The comfort he had been attempting to convey in his tone was dampened by the resignation and frustration that the child’s outburst had had an audience. He scowled darkly at the headmaster, attempting to show him that beyond a doubt he blamed him for Harry's distress and the chaos that was about to ensue. He hesitated slightly before abandoning all pretences and, picking Harry up as he would have done had he taken ill at home, put him back on the infirmary cot. "Stay off your feet."

H.P.

A rushing filled his ears where he sat, pounding over the silence. Suddenly, he was all too aware that everyone was watching him, looking at him with horrified expressions just like the one on Snape's face. The Potions Master renewed his grip on his fingers as Harry sat wide-eyed and motionless, save for the spasms he hadn't been able to stop since the graveyard.

"Wait, what?" Ron asked, the first to speak. Snape tensed, his fingers tightening their grip slightly, and his other hand moving to rest on Harry’s shoulder as if to shield him.

"What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall asked, not a moment later. It was at that moment that Snape lost it. "The lot of you, out. Don't you dare, Albus. Now was not the time," he growled, as the headmaster made to cut him off with calming words. "Get out."

"We can't leave Harry alone with him. He's confunded him or something," Ron complained, appealing to his parents and Professor McGonagall for support. Harry sat there dumbly, a flush creeping over his cheeks. He could tell Snape was on the verge of losing it; he was breathing deeply and his grip on Harry's hand was so tight now that it hurt a little.

Remus stepped in, insisting that Harry had, in fact, asked to see Severus after all. "I think we've crowded him enough. Let's, all of us, give him a moment. A bit of space to breathe will do him a world of good," he said calmly, as if he could diffuse the situation by making it seem as if everything was normal. Harry was insanely grateful that Sirius was in dog form right now.

"Albus...?" Arthur Weasley questioned, reluctant to leave.

"Why doesn't he have to leave? Harry, what's going on?" Ron asked but Harry couldn't bear to look at him. He took a breath, but paused not knowing what to say, or even if he could speak past the lump in his throat. He ended up just staring down at his knees instead.

"Get. Them. Out. Or I will do it myself as I see fit," Snape hissed, the hand not holding onto Harry's inching towards where he knew he kept his wand.

"Harry has been through a traumatic ordeal this evening. A moment to collect himself would not be remiss," the headmaster answered finally.

"We can't leave him with Snape!" Ron argued as they were shepherded away from his bed, the curtains drawn hastily behind them.

Harry continued his inspection of his knees, struggling to speak. He breathed deeply but still nothing was coming out. "I couldn't occlude," he eventually said in a strangled whisper. "He knows and he's really angry... You can't go, Severus."

"I know, I heard," Snape replied just as quietly, summoning Harry's own stone by way of explanation and placing it into his hand. "I heard everything from the moment you arrived in that graveyard." He tapped him gently under the chin, getting him to raise his head. "You have been immeasurably brave tonight. I could not be prouder of you."

"I've ruined everything," he choked out, stung by the praise he didn't deserve. "I've gone and told everyone that I want you to be m-my dad, you can't spy because V-voldemort knows, I got m-myself taken, and then I brought him back to-to life. And I got– I got Dobby killed!" he finished, tears spilling unchecked down his cheeks. He saw again Dobby's body lying on the dungeon floor, crumpled and completely still, and he sobbed aloud.

"No," Snape growled, pulling Harry to his chest, one arm curled protectively around his back. "None of that was your fault. You have suffered enough; I will not listen to you torture yourself further."

"It was my fault," Harry argued. It was wrong that he was being comforted while Dobby was dead and Voldemort had come back and he'd messed up Snape's spying and now everyone was so angry.

"That elf was murdered by a madman, you were kidnapped by the same lunatic and they used your blood against your will. You were tortured past endurance and you refused to speak. Do not argue with me; I heard it all, Harry," Snape said as if Harry's pain was somehow hurting him too.

"I knew it was dangerous when I called for him," he cried, struggling to raise his arms to wipe his eyes, letting out a noise of frustration when his arms twitched and shook, refusing to obey him. Snape took pity on him and used his wand to dry his face, the sleeves of his own robes falling back to reveal deep raw welts circling his arms.

"What spell did that?" Harry asked.

"Incarcerous. I was... restrained," he admitted begrudgingly, shaking his sleeves back down. "I would have been there sooner."

"That was you that ran into me," Harry said, eyes wide as realisation dawned. "I thought I heard your voice. Voldemort said you wouldn't come for me."

"I would have been there the moment I was summoned," he said, his expression pained. "I would have come for you the instant I knew where you were–"

"It's all right," Harry said quietly.

"It is not all right!" he disagreed vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You were tortured, you could have died, I could have lost you!"

"I'm sorry," Harry breathed, overwhelmed with guilt once more. The admission did nothing to help because Snape's expression became even more agonised than a moment before.

"You have nothing to apologise for," he growled, pulling him close again and wrapping his arms around him tightly. "You have no idea, child," he said abortively. "I cannot lose you, Harry..." For the first time that night, he felt safe. He didn't want Snape to let go because when he did he would have to remember what happened that night. Dobby would be dead and Voldemort would be back and he would have been tortured and it still hurt.

He was disappointed to be jostled some time later when Snape reached out behind him with one hand, adjusting his pillows and opening out the corner of his duvet. "In," he instructed quietly. Harry allowed himself to be helped under the covers but when Snape held out the goblet of dreamless sleep, he met his eyes with a well-practised look of defiance.

"You take some first," Harry demanded. He was still scared, terrified even, that if he went to sleep he would wake up and Snape wouldn't be there.

"I assure you that I do not have a death wish. I have absolutely no intention of leaving."

"You'd say that if you were leaving."

"No," he said firmly, leaning forward and plucking the glasses from his nose, despite Harry's protestations. "I would tell you that after you took the dreamless sleep I would leave, then I would tell you that I had never been prouder of you and that I would endeavour to be back here by the time you woke up. Arms." Harry seemed confused by the word until Severus lifted his arms and pulled the woolly jumper over his head so that he was sat in bed in his usual pyjamas. "I would not tell you that I would stay here with you then have you wake up to find out that I was gone and may well not return."

Harry looked up at his blurry form, not entirely convinced but so tired he was scared he would drop off to sleep without the potion. "Harry, trust me. You have been brave beyond belief tonight, so I know you can be brave about this. I'm not going anywhere and when you wake up I will be here." He held out the potion once more, and this time Harry held out a hand for it.

"Promise?" he asked uncertainly, sounding ridiculously childish even to his own ears as Severus held the goblet stable in his jerky grip as he drank.

"I will not leave."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he gulped down the potion. Waves of warmth and a pleasant sleepiness gently washed over him. He was eased onto his pillows and the goblet was prised from his fingers. "Well done." His duvet was pulled over his shoulders, his fringe brushed from his eyes, and sleep took him.

 

S.S.

Severus stared down at Harry as he slept, marvelling still at having him whole and in one piece. He would have looked peaceful were his body not still wracked by sporadic convulsions. He brushed Harry's fringe down so that it fully covered the lightening bolt scar. He would take care of that, but not now; now he had to take care of him.

"You got him to take his potion?" Lupin whispered tentatively, coming to stand beside him. Severus knew he was attempting to be somewhat supportive and to keep the peace, but he couldn’t contain an angry sneer as the curtains surrounding Harry's bed were drawn slowly and quietly back, and Harry's mob of well-wishers stared at him distrustfully, some with open hostility.

He bared his teeth, glaring back. "Make a single noise to wake the boy up and I will personally, and with great pleasure, ensure that you regret it."

A snort came from the back of the group and he was surprised to see Black in human form, already acquainted with everyone. "It says something that there's a convict in the room but the person no one wants near Harry is you."

How tempting it was to smash his head into a wall again, how much better he would feel if he could take a little of the anger and weariness out on this imbecile's skull. Merlin knows what it was protecting; he wasn't blessed with a brain in there.

"I do not have to answer to a single one of you. Where is Poppy?" He couldn't decide who in the room he despised the least, so he settled on directing the question at Lupin. He needn't have bothered. Upon hearing her name, the matron came bustling out of her office and Black hastily retreated, resuming his canine form.

"Shall I assume I’m allowed to see to my patient now?"

She set about giving the group a disapproving glare of her own, for entirely different reasons, but looking down at Harry, she let out a startled 'Oh'. "He should sleep through the night if he’s left undisturbed," she said with a small smile of relief. "Headmaster, if I could see you for a moment to discuss Mr Potter's condition."

"No," Severus interrupted in tone that brooked no argument. "I'm his guardian, so you'll discuss it with me. In private."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm his guardian and I believe it is my right to have this conversation in private," he repeated, his gaze resting on each person in turn, daring anyone to contradict him. If the occupants of the room had been confused and hostile before, it was nothing to the dark and, in many cases, horrified looks he was getting now.

"You're his–" Poppy began, at first utterly baffled but swiftly turning furious as realisation dawned. "Severus Snape, the amount of times I nearly you threw you out of this infirmary because of your fussing. I should have known!"

"I do not fuss," he replied indignantly. "My concern has always been in proportion to his injury."

"Into my office with you, then. I should have been notified immediately that you were his guardian," she continued to scold him. Severus tried not to be taken aback that she took the information in her stride, even as Minerva and the Weasleys gawped after them.

"His condition?"

"He's had a warming draught, a strong pain reliever and the sleeping draught should take care of his exhaustion. Physically, it's his nerves and muscles that have taken the most damage. It seems to me that he's been subject to the cruciatus curse and, from the extent of the damage, he's been cursed more than once."

"At least five times, for more than twenty seconds each time," Severus clarified, and Poppy's expression turned sombre.

"I will monitor him overnight and reassess him in the morning, but I warn you now that there could be some long-term physical effects. Spells such as he was subject to can have a lasting effect."

He shut his eyes briefly, sighing deeply. "The convulsions aren't going to stop?"

"I'll have a better idea of what we're dealing with when I see how he's responded to what I've given him so far. We can refer him to St Mungo's if it isn't within my capability to cure. There have been far worse after-effects of torture by cruciatus curse and I will be able to advise you how to cope should it come to that." She gave him a few moments to process the information. "He will have been affected more than just physically and he cannot take dreamless sleep more than twice a week."

"I'm a Potions Master, I do not need to be told–"

"I tell all my patients and those responsible for their care. I do not know what trauma he has been subject to tonight, but from his injuries it's clear he's going to need emotional support. I thoroughly expect you'll be capable of meeting his needs."

Severus couldn't claim not to be surprised and a little confused at the vote of confidence. She paused suddenly, holding the door halfway open. She regarded him sternly. "You will need to take care of yourself too if you're going to have a hope of taking care of that young man."

---

By the time Severus returned to Harry's bedside the group had noticeably thinned out.

"Ron's gone with his mother to give his statement to the aurors. They'll want to speak with you soon," Lupin explained quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere with those fools," he snarled. Harry had moved in his sleep, his fringe no longer hiding the horcrux hidden in plain view. A wave of rage and grief threatened to engulf him once more and he could hear the headmaster's words calmly revealing his twisted version of his son's fate. Severus gripped Harry's fingers and he relaxed slightly.

"They aren't looking to arrest you. Albus has explained about the impostor. The real Moody is on the other side of the wing in a bad way." Severus let the expression on his face show how little he cared.

"Severus," Arthur Weasley began seriously, interrupting his moment of calm. "What exactly is your relationship to Harry?"

"Are you deaf, Weasley?" Severus snapped, releasing Harry's fingers.

"Severus..." Lupin murmured, a warning in his tone.

"Albus explained that you're his guardian by proxy, and you have some sort of document or contract from his relatives to act in their stead."

"Which I should have been notified of as his head of house," Minerva interjected severely.

"Molly and I have watched him return to his relatives each summer for his safety. We would have been quite happy to take him in. How is it that he's ended up with you? From what I've gathered up until now you've disliked Harry more than any other child you've taught."

"I don't have to answer to either of you." He had by now already burned through reserves of patience that he hadn't even known he'd possessed. That Minerva, who so easily let herself be persuaded by the headmaster that Harry was better off with his relatives, and Arthur Weasley, who had managed both times Harry was put in his care to see to it that he ended up in danger, could stand before him now with the utter nerve to question him was nothing short of enraging.

"If you're going to go up against the Ministry to keep him, you might want a few more people on your side," Lupin said softly. Severus didn't miss the worried look he darted at the large black dog standing guard at the foot of the bed.

"How long have you known about this?" Minerva asked, rounding on the wolf.

"All along. You really have to see them together for it to make any sense, and even then, you have to squint."

"If that is your attempt to be helpful then I can do without it." He wasn't in the mood to deal with these people. He merely wanted to sit in complete silence beside Harry's bed until he had to deal with the damned aurors once and for all. He was prepared to argue his case with the ministry, but these two utter imbeciles had no right whatsoever to question his guardianship of the boy.

"He's happy," Lupin said quietly, nodding towards Harry. "Severus has adapted faster than anyone would have expected."

"Happy?" Weasley replied incredulously.

Severus resisted the urge to curse him with every fibre of his being, angrily stalking as far as he could from Harry's bed before he exploded with rage. How dare they? He whipped around, certain that he had been followed.

"You," he rounded on Minerva, gesticulating viciously, "took the first excuse the headmaster offered to rid yourself of responsibility of the boy. You did not care one whit about Harry having fit guardians when you sent him back to live with his relatives. And you," he turned to face Arthur Weasley. "Tell your wife, your son and the rest of your offspring that if I hear one word said to him against this arrangement–"

"What in Merlin's name do you want with him?" Weasley interrupted, shaking his head.

"HE'S MY SON," he roared.

"No one is questioning the legitimacy of this document you've procured, but we need to have a rational discussion about Mr Potter's wellbeing," Minerva cut in. "Forgive me, but you are the last person I would want that child with, especially after such a traumatic ordeal, and I find it quite disturbing that it is only now that you seem to want to lay some sort of claim on him. Not to mention that Mr Potter was behaving quite out of character earlier..."

"Torture tends to have that effect, you fool."

The doors to the hospital wing swung open and the headmaster surveyed the scene with raised eyebrows, no doubt taking in Severus' teeth gritted in anger, as well as Minerva's flushed features.

"Severus, the aurors are ready for your statement. If you'd like to come with me..."

He departed in a furious whirl of robes, treating the headmaster to a far more disgusted glare than he had even the other two.

---

H.P.

No one noticed as he blinked himself awake the following morning. Remus was sat massaging his temples, staring blankly at the floor, and Snape was glaring hard across the room, and from the looks of it, it was being deeply offensive. He struggled to sit up, wincing unpleasantly as he manoeuvred on stiff joints and aching muscles. Inching up, he discovered that the odd weight resting on his feet was the curled up form of a huge black dog.

"Painful?" Snape murmured, reaching behind Harry to adjust his pillows.

"A bit, yeah. You stayed. You're here."

"Of course I'm here. Drink." He held out a potion, keeping the vial steady for him, just as he had done the night before. "Occlude, Harry," he instructed seriously. "Do not stop occluding."

"Morning, Harry," Remus said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"M'alright," he shrugged numbly, not really sure what he felt at all. Who cares how he was feeling when Voldemort was out there. He was cold all over just imagining what Voldemort had begun to do, what it was his responsibility to stop. "What's happened while I've been asleep?" he asked desperately, looking between the two men.

"Not a great deal." Snape replied, leaning back in his seat. "The real Alastor Moody was found before you arrived in the hospital wing. We've all given our statements to the Ministry and they'll do what they can to catch Crouch."

"It wasn't him," Harry said quickly. Why were they so calm? Snape was just sitting there for heaven's sake and Sirius was still asleep. "It said Crouch on my map but when the polyjuice wore off it was someone else completely, someone younger."

"It wasn't the Barty Crouch you know. He had a son," Remus said.

"Who should have died in Azkaban," Snape continued in a hard voice. "Moody gave the memory of his kidnap during the night," he explained. The Potions Master took a breath, glancing quickly at Remus before speaking once more. "I should warn you before you give your statement that the Minister is rather unwilling to believe that the Dark Lord has returned."

"What?" Harry exclaimed loudly.

"No one is questioning that you were kidnapped," Snape tried in a late conciliatory attempt. "But as for the events in the graveyard–"

"They can see my memories if they don't believe me," Harry burst out. What was wrong with everyone? Why weren't they doing anything?

"They do not want to believe you. They will not look at your memories."

Harry leaned forward furiously. How could Snape be so calm about the fact that the Ministry were being so blind? "We can't just let them pretend Voldemort's not back! We need to stop him."

Snape leaned forward himself, put a calming hand on his shoulder. "The Ministry does not believe us, but there are people who matter, people who are organised, who do. The headmaster will sit in while you speak to the aurors, as will I. If they are not willing to hear what happened to you at that graveyard, we most certainly are."

"I thought you heard everything," Harry muttered, his voice becoming small against his will.

"Almost everything," Snape admitted, squeezing Harry's shoulder, an oddly affectionate gesture that set Harry off-balance. "We need to understand exactly what happened, as well as what you saw."

"Sirius and I will be off then, Harry. We'll stop in on you once you're settled." The dog lifted its head up at that, issuing a bark of disapproval. "There are aurors coming to speak to Harry. You can't be here." Sirius just growled, not moving from his position curled at Harry's feet. "I'm not going to stand here arguing with you, Sirius."

"I'll be fine. You don't have to hang around on my account, either of you." Remus clapped a hand on his shoulder and attempted to give him a smile that turned out more like a grimace while Sirius bounded off Harry's bed with a loud bark.

"We'll see you soon. Very soon if Sirius has anything to say about it."

"I'm fine," Harry insisted weakly. Once Remus had finally shooed Sirius out of the hospital wing and departed with a final wave, Harry noticed Snape staring appraisingly down at him.

"What?"

Snape shook his head as if to say nothing and Harry heaved a reluctant sigh. "Can I have something for this before I speak to them?" He pulled his hands out from behind his back, nodding down at his limbs as they twitched and shook. The potion that Snape had given him had taken care of most of the pain but nothing else. He couldn't hold his hands still, not even if he tried. "I don't want them to see me like this."

Snape pulled back, his expression becoming carefully blank. "Madam Pomfrey won't be able to see you beforehand. Are you ready? If it is too soon, I will tell them to wait."

"I have to talk now. They have to know he's back so they can stop him!"

"Did you hear what I said earlier?"

"Yeah, I heard. I'm going to tell them; I'm going to make them believe me. They have to," Harry replied obstinately. Why was everyone acting like this wasn't a huge deal?

"I'm more than tempted to tell them to wait if this is your current frame of mind."

"No," Harry shouted furiously. "I'm talking to them now; I'll tell them I'm ready myself!" He swung his legs off the bed. Screw Snape and the sodding Ministry.

"Stop." Snape physically blocked him from moving off the bed. "I will tell them. You haven't been cleared to be on your feet."

He felt like screaming. Who cared about whether he used his damn legs? Voldemort was back!

"Hold on," Harry said suddenly, grabbing hold of Snape's arm as he indicated to the aurors that Harry was ready. "What do I say about why I was so desperate to come to the castle? Or why I went through your quarters? What did Ron say?"

"Tell them the truth," Snape replied in a voice as calm as Harry's was panicked. "Obviously do not mention the key ingredient of your potion, that would hardly endear me to the authorities, and try to avoid mentioning your map. Moody's own testimony will be enough to identify your kidnapper."

"But–"

"Tell them the truth," he repeated evenly. "I have already done so."

He did WHAT?

S.S.

Harry stared up at him, utterly appalled, as the aurors and the headmaster settled around his bed.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," the ever-irritating Auror Hoffley began in a clipped, business-like tone. "We understand you've had a difficult night, but if you're able we'd like you to explain the events leading up to your abduction."

Harry remained silent, looking between Severus and the aurors, unconsciously biting his lip. Severus nodded encouragingly when it seemed as though he might refuse to speak and all he got in response was a thoroughly confused and hurt look.

"Mr Potter?" Hoffley repeated and Harry relented.

"I was at the Burrow and my scar started to hurt."

"When was that exactly?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, as if he too thought Auror Hoffley possessed the very minimum level of intellect required for holding a quill. "During the night."

"And does this happen often, this pain in your scar?"

"He's had a difficult night," Severus growled, echoing the auror's own words. "This would be a good deal easier if you let him speak," he said, dragging out the last three words.

"Professor Snape has been trying to make me a potion strong enough to help, so I flooed to his quarters in the castle..."

Harry edited the events just as Severus had asked with surprising ease, but even so, his description of events had the painful ring of truth. It was not easy to hear from Harry's own mouth that his desperation to see him, to get his potion, had led to his abduction. The aurors gave vaguely sympathetic nods, and every now and then hastily jotted down a note. Had Severus not been rather invested in maintaining a new and positive relationship with the Ministry and their agents, he'd have had a good deal more to say about their new policy on selective ignorance.

"Are you certain those were his exact words? Crouch said he was working for You-Know-Who specifically?"

Even Severus was tempted to hex that superior look off the auror's face, let alone Harry, who was becoming steadily more frustrated. It was a good thing that Harry's wand was safely tucked into Severus' inner pocket or, despite the severe after-effects of the cruciatus curse, he may well have managed to unleash a colourful hex or two.

"He didn't say those words but it was obvious who he was referring to. It was even more obvious when I got there and he tried to kill me."

"You have had a terrible and traumatic experience; it is not uncommon for children's imaginations to become overactive..."

"Sir!" Harry cried loudly, appealing to Severus in his desperation to be believed. "Tell them. You saw him!" Severus stood quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder, both to calm him and as a warning. Harry paid no attention, raising his voice at the aurors. "He's back, I'm telling you."

"They will not listen; they do not want to hear it," he murmured quietly, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him round to face him.

"I didn't want to be there," Harry choked, refusing to calm himself, "I didn't want–"

"I know," he murmured roughly. "I know."

"You-Know-Who is gone, Mr Potter," Auror Hoffley replied, pushing his glasses up his nose and vanishing his notes with a vague wave of his wand. "This master that Crouch spoke of could easily have been Sirius Black, who rest assured we are still seeking to capture. I think we've heard enough." He gestured for his mute colleague to stand. "Get well soon."

"Sir," Harry cried, his tone laced with betrayal. "You know he's back. Why didn't you say anything?"

"The Ministry has no intention of admitting that the Dark Lord has returned and will not change their minds on your word or mine. It is not that they do not believe us; it is that they do not want to. I gave them my opinion of the matter in detail last night. They will not budge."

"We can't just give up," Harry cried, shoving Severus away as he swiped at his eyes in frustration.

"We have no intention of giving up," said the headmaster, speaking for the first time. "The Ministry is not the only organisation to have fought against Voldemort. If you could continue Harry, we need as much information as possible."

More than once Severus was on the verge of asking them to stop, of saying that they had heard enough through the stone, that it wasn't worth the pain it was causing Harry to relive the night before. His own hands began to tremble when he spoke of the figures that had emerged from the Dark Lord's wand, and he gripped Harry's hand strongly when the headmaster tried to persuade him that they were merely echoes, not even ghosts of his parents.

"But they knew things; they were real," Harry insisted. "They knew you were coming and that Severus was going to come get me."

"You did not hope for that to be true in your own mind?"

"It is not possible to know for certain, either way," Severus interrupted. If Harry wanted hope, if he wanted to believe in something good after what he had been through, what right did the headmaster have to take that away?

"You were there for the rest," Harry finished, shaking his head.

"Well done," Severus murmured.

"Well done, indeed, my boy," the headmaster echoed, and Severus gave him a look filled with utter contempt.

His boy? His boy who he would have led to his death and who he would have manipulated into sacrificing himself. His boy, from whom he would have stolen his childhood and who he would have stolen from Severus.

"He's not," he growled. What he would have done to Harry would have made him no better than a murderer in his eyes. He didn't register any reply from the headmaster when he showed himself out as Harry took that as his cue to explode.

"You told them? You told them?"

"The Dark Lord and all his closest supporters know you are in my care. How long do you think it would have taken before the Ministry's agents came knocking on my door? I will handle it. Trust me to handle it."

He backed away, composing his features as Poppy bustled over once more. "Are you ready, Mr Potter? One final check up and I'll have a quick chat with Severus, and then you'll be free to go..."

H.P.

"Madam Pomfrey is going to give me something, isn't she?" Harry asked when Snape returned. His face was paler than ever and Harry really noticed for the first time how terrible the man looked. "There's a potion or a spell, isn't there?"

Snape cleared his throat and settled back into his seat, adjusting his robes unnecessarily. He paused for so long that Harry was considering repeating the question.

"The Dark Lord was not exaggerating when he suggested that you could lose your mind as a result of torture. In the past that particular spell has had horrific consequences; there are people in St. Mungo's who have never recovered from the effects of the cruciatus curse. Magic is not a cure-all; there are some things that cannot be fixed with a wave of a wand or a swig of potion..." Harry's eyes widened as panic threatened to overwhelm him. 

Perhaps sensing that Harry's mind was going to alarming places, Snape cut to the chase. "Poppy has given you something and it is having some effect, but it is by no means immediate."

"So, I'm looking at being like this for... for weeks...?"

"Months most likely. You will have some... temporary limitations to work around."

Harry took in Severus' words in complete silence, staring blankly at the wall. He could feel Snape watching him. He pushed his palms down flat onto his legs, stared fixedly at his fingers, his lips pressed in a determined line. He sucked in a breath as he concentrated harder, barely breathing. If he could just hold them still for a second, he could prove Snape wrong. He concentrated harder, biting down on his lip, hard. How could he fulfil the prophecy like this? How could he do anything like this? Snape leaned forward, tugging on his wrists as Harry blinked just a little too quickly and his face began to flush.

"That's enough."

"What limitations? What can't I do?" he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

Snape ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "Your magic is going to be somewhat compromised. Certain spells require very precise wand movements that you might find difficult to perform now. The other is that you absolutely cannot fly. You won't be permitted to use a broomstick until you're cleared by Madam Pomfrey."

He pressed his lips together and shut his eyes, that way he could shut everything out, because it was too much.

"It's selfish to be this upset, isn't it?" he asked, ashamed of how hard he was taking this when Dobby had died, and Voldemort was back, and he'd gone and ruined Snape's whole life.

"No. This has all been far too much at once," he said firmly before releasing a harsh breath of his own. "This will solve nothing," he began abortively, holding out his arms in an awkward invitation for comfort that Harry wasn't too old or too proud to take.

---

S.S.

"All my stuff's here," Harry mumbled as he stared around Severus's quarters. Lupin had done just as he had asked, packing up all of their belongings from the new house and replacing them, somewhat haphazardly, in his quarters. He didn't seem like he appreciated this new surprise as he cast a wary eye over his scattered belongings.

Harry reached forward slowly, plucking a photo frame from the coffee table, and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw that it was a picture of him, Weasley jumper hastily thrown over his pyjamas, surrounded by pieces of wrapping paper and his presents. Severus had developed it the wizarding way and the photographic Harry was failing dismally at shying out of the picture. It had only been days since it was taken and yet it felt like an age had passed.

"Why can't we go home?"

"It is better for now that we remain here," he replied vaguely, pulling the photograph out of Harry's grasp and settling it on the mantel.

"As in you told the Ministry that I live with you and they don't like it?"

"Generally speaking, teachers don't have permission to take children home with them, however good their intentions," Severus replied sardonically. "This conversation can wait. You can take a day at the very least to begin to heal."

Harry clasped his hands tightly behind his back and returned Severus' gaze defiantly. "You don't need to fuss over me. It's not the first time I've nearly been killed, and I think we both know it isn't going to be the last either."

"You were hurt, badly, and you have just relived it and experienced another shock no less than an hour ago. Trust me when I tell you that it can all wait."

"It can't all wait," Harry exclaimed. "If they're making plans to send me back to the Dursleys then I'll tell them I'm not going."

"No one's sending you to the Dursleys. Things will need to be discussed and decided, but not now and not today. You have had enough. You will take a day, at the very least."

"For what? While he's out there doing what he did to me to other people? What's going to happen? What are we going to do?"

"You're going to have a panic attack, at this rate. You have had enough and I have had enough. We know nothing of the Dark Lord's plans. Right now there is nothing that you or I can do." Snape held up a hand to forestall any response and black eyes met his in a stern and unwavering stare. "If you want to fulfil the prophecy and be the one who comes out alive, then you will face him only when you are ready. You cannot begin to train until you have begun to heal. If you want to be ready, if you are serious about defeating him, then sit down, calm down and let me look after you. Everyone has their limits, Harry."

Harry dropped silently onto the sofa, defeated by Snape's logic.

S.S.

The one great problem that Severus foresaw was that Harry had already been through too much and he had reached his limit. He may well have surpassed his limit and yet there was still more. Having been tortured, having been used to bring back the Dark Lord, having to relive it moments after waking, and having learned that he would have... limitations was not enough. Learning that his home with Severus was in jeopardy would be a harsh blow too many... He would have to ask him despite the wholly inappropriate circumstances. He had no choice.

Watching Harry struggle with the burden of responsibility that he was too young and too inexperienced to shoulder made him doubt his decision to tell him the prophecy and firmed his resolve not to speak of the horcrux. Not now, not yet. When he could fix it and when he had a plan in place, he would tell him. But to do so sooner, to tell him there was a piece of the Dark Lord preventing that monster from dying lodged in his scar, would be too cruel.

The crackle of the wizarding wireless filtered intermittently into the kitchen, occasionally buzzing or chattering inanely over what passed for music these days. This was occasionally interrupted by the sizzle of oil hitting the hot pan, or the faint bubbling of boiling water. He fell easily into his usual rhythm as he chopped and diced. After so many years, his hands knew where to position themselves so as not to slice off the tip of a finger or the side of his thumb and his brain could be elsewhere, watching his potion simmer, the onions browning, minding a class full of rowdy students, recalling Harry's screams as he was mercilessly tortured, remembering the constricting bindings over his wrists as he struggled, consumed by his desperation to save his son but powerless to help him...

The sound of sock-clad feet padding across the room and the clanking of crockery jerked Severus abruptly from his disturbing recollections. Very quietly, Harry mumbled, "I've never been to a funeral before."

Severus dropped his knife with a clatter. It struck him hard, a painful shock, like a shard of ice had lodged in his chest, how easily it could have been Harry's funeral they were arranging. He might not have come back, his and the Dark Lord's wands might not have connected, he might have died believing that Severus would not have come for him, and he would be mourning him instead of welcoming him back home.

"Sir?" Severus didn't reply but threw out an arm, yanking an astonished Harry to his chest, wrapping an arm tight around his back. He was alive and as well as Severus had any right to hope for. "You alright, sir?" Harry asked, his voice muffled and bemused. Severus grappled with the suspicion that the stress of the evening before had caused him to lose his mind. He had suddenly become overwhelmingly sentimental. He released him just as suddenly as he had held him, gruffly ordering him to set the table.

---

"You don't do this all the time, do you?" Harry asked, not lifting his head from his pillow when Severus nudged his bedroom door open.

"Check up on you at night? No, not all the time." He walked further into the room, pulling Harry's desk chair beside his bed. "Trouble sleeping?"

"I slept last night. You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"We aren't talking about me."

"I am."

He wouldn't tell him that he could not sleep, that he knew what he would hear when he shut his eyes and knew what he would dream when sleep took him. "I am used to sleepless nights, but it is not a habit I wish you to get into."

"I can't… Why didn't you try?" Harry burst out, sitting up. "Why didn't you tell them again what you saw? Why did you let them tell me I was making it up?"

"I tried all night. I spoke to the Minister for magic himself and I showed him this." He lifted his sleeve to show Harry the ugly black tattoo on his wrist. "That is why I warned you; I knew they would not listen and I did not want you overly distressed."

"You wouldn't tell them about Voldemort but you told them about me living here."

"It would be perhaps a day, no more than that, and they would have come for you. This way I have been upfront, and I can control the situation."

"Then why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"That is not one of the reasons for you to have a sleepless night, child. Today and tonight are not the right time for this discussion, a week from now is too soon, a month from now even, but we will talk tomorrow. Try to sleep, Harry. I will wake you, should you need it."

"I can't. I keep thinking about Dobby." He shook his head, making a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

"You must occlude, Harry. You must."

"I'm trying."

"I can give you a potion to help you sleep but it won't stop you dreaming." Harry shook his head, burying his face in his hands. He always managed to look incredibly young in his pyjamas. He was young; fourteen only seemed old when you hadn't lived more than two decades.

"I'll read to you," Severus threatened without bite. "I can't bring that infernal television in here."

"Funny."

Severus ignored the comment, summoning over one of the books he'd given to Harry and flicking to the front page. "Move over so I can put my feet up," he ordered. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

"Severus, I'm not five."

"You need to clear your mind so that you can occlude. So lie down, shut your eyes and listen."

Reading aloud was an oddly relaxing experience and he'd gotten two chapters in before he realised that Harry had managed to fall fast asleep.

---

H.P.

Harry sat at the table the following day, palms flat against the surface, willing them to remain still. He wanted to talk seriously, not like a child and certainly not like a victim. He knew what Snape was going to say. Why else would he have put it off? Take a day. Snape thought he wouldn't be able to cope hearing the truth, that he was too distraught to face anything more, that he needed to recover. Well, he was wrong because he could face hearing whatever he had to, but that certainly didn't mean he was going to like it. The Ministry knew everything now and they didn't approve. They'd just have to learn to because he wasn't going anywhere no matter what else Snape organised or who else it was with.

"One day's up. What's going on, then? Why do we have to stay here?"

Snape raised his eyebrows slightly at Harry's tone, but took a seat, saying nothing to chastise him. He drilled his fingers agitatedly on his forearm as he considered Harry across the table.

"The document that I had your relatives sign is not... legal as such," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Now that the Ministry has been made aware of our situation–"

"No," Harry interrupted firmly, knowing exactly where Snape was going with this little talk and punctuating his assertion with a stubborn shake of his head. "I'm staying with you. I don't care what the Ministry thinks and I don't care if they don't like it."

"I do care," he snapped back. "I care enormously because if they don't like it, Mr Potter, then you will not be allowed to stay here. I intend to do everything in my power to convince them that what they think is that staying with me is what is best for you."

Harry frowned. "So, what, you're just going to ask if I can stay here? What happens if they say no?"

"I do not want to ask to have you here; I do not want permission to have you in my quarters. I want the right to tell the Ministry and the headmaster where to go the next time they insist you take part in some preposterous death tournament that some murderous lunatic entered you into. I do not want to worry that you will be taken from me because I do not have the rights of a legal guardian."

"What, then?"

"Adoption," Snape announced, arms folded, his usual scowl set firmly in place.

"Adoption?" Harry repeated weakly. "As in you adopting me?"

"Yes, as in me adopting you, you imbecile."

That wasn't remotely where he thought this conversation was going to go. "You said no," he replied faintly. "You said you couldn't adopt me, not even if you didn't have to spy."

"I said I would not adopt you if there was a possibility I could protect you by keeping your whereabouts a secret. The Dark Lord knows exactly where you are now; the cat is well and truly out of the bag. I said I could protect you with the wards at home and I still intend to do that."

"So, for the wards and the training–"

"No," he interrupted firmly. "There will be no misunderstandings. I intend to make this absolutely clear." He leaned forward, speaking slowly as if Harry was particularly stupid. "I want to adopt you because I am far more capable of protecting you than anyone else. I want you where I can train you so that you will one day be ready to face the Dark Lord. I want the final say with decisions regarding your care. But most of all Mr Potter, I want you to be legally recognised as my son because that is what I consider you to be. I want the rights of a father and I will endeavour to fulfil that role for you."

Harry stared back at him in complete silence until Snape sat back in his seat, his expression becoming a good deal less certain, and Harry realised that his potions professor was nervous of all things.

"You mean like a real adoption. You want to really adopt me?" Harry clarified after an exceptionally drawn out pause, wanting, needing to be certain, absolutely certain what Snape was asking.

"Yes."

"As in you'd be my...?"

"Adoptive father." Snape gave him a look that showed he was beginning to wonder if Harry was slow after all.

"But I'd call you...?"

"Call me what you wish. Merlin knows you do already. You do not have to agree and certainly not straight away. I will not have you feel pressured into making a decision if you are uncertain."

"I'm not," Harry contradicted him hurriedly, stumbling over his words in his haste to get them out. "I'm agreeing. I mean, yes, I want to be adopted. It was my idea first."

Snape shook his head, a gesture that left him baffled. "I want you to consider it. This is serious, Harry. It is not just a measure for your protection or a means to keep you under my care; it is a significant and permanent commitment."

"I know. I want you to be my dad and I want to stay with you."

"I want you to think about it. Really consider it for a few days at least before we discuss it. I shouldn't be asking you now; the timing is completely inappropriate."

"Why?"

"Asking you a mere day after you were tortured by the Dark Lord will be seen as taking advantage by some and they may well be right. If we were not pushed for time I would not have asked you."

"I would have said yes before."

"I do not want you to answer me now. It is not an offer that is going to expire, and it is not even an all or nothing. I can petition the Ministry to give you permission to stay at Hogwarts each summer. The headmaster would be something akin to an official wizarding guardian but he could place you in my quarters for the summer, provided the Ministry have no problems with this arrangement." Snape hesitated for a moment, looking horribly reluctant to continue. "Harry, I would certainly not love you any less if you were to refuse."

"You– what?" Harry gaped, his eyes so wide if he had a thought to spare he might have been worried they'd fall out of his head.

"I told you that I considered you my son," Snape said defensively.

"That doesn't mean– you never said." He gestured vaguely between them, not even able to repeat Snape's words.

"If the thought of me loving you makes you so terribly uncomfortable then perhaps you are not as certain as you'd have me believe," he growled irritably.

"I'm not uncomfortable. I just didn't think you–"

"I'm asking to adopt you, Harry." Snape shook his head as if it was his fault he couldn't get his head around it, as if it were completely normal for Snape to go around declaring his love of Gryffindors and asking to adopt them. Then again, he'd not made a secret of liking him recently and he had told him he considered him his son, and he had meant it like it sounded. Merlin, the man spent Christmas with him, he took care of him when he was sick, he read to him until he slept last night. He was asking to adopt him.

"If we were to consider adoption then it would not be easy," Snape continued. "I will have some difficulty persuading the Ministry's child welfare department that I am a suitable candidate. Until we can be sure that I will be considered you will have to wait to be officially emancipated from your aunt and uncle, but if we go ahead, it will almost certainly mean returning to Privet Drive for a meeting. It would also mean that for the interim period you would be a ward of the Ministry, which is not ideal."

He didn't care how difficult it would be, and he didn't care that he would have to see the Dursleys. In fact, part of him wanted to. He wanted to show them that someone wanted him, and if that someone happened to be a wizard they found completely terrifying, so much the better.

He was going to be adopted by someone who wanted him. He was going to stay with Snape and they'd be a family, if he could persuade the man that was what he actually wanted, that is.

"Stop looking so... thrilled. I want you to think about this. Promise me you'll really think."

"I'm going to think loads about it," Harry promised. "I'm still going to say yes, though."

---

S.S.

"Keep occluding. Do not let your grief distract you," he instructed as they made their way across the grounds.

"I know," Harry murmured, twisting his fingers tightly behind his back.

Severus stopped suddenly, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder to hold him back from the group.

"I do not want to see you so apprehensive or self-conscious, it does not suit you." He gripped his shoulder more firmly, looking pointedly down at the awkward and, almost certainly, painful way he was holding his arms. Harry sighed, taking the hint and relaxing his arms by his sides.

For the majority of the day Harry was in a good deal of discomfort, but Severus had quickly come to realise that a large part of that was due to his self-consciousness. It was with relief that they discovered that Harry's daily potion was making a difference, almost vanishing Harry's symptoms instantaneously. Unfortunately, the effects lasted little over an hour and for the rest of the day Harry was as plagued as ever by the effects of the cruciatus curse.

It was still morning and not yet time for Harry's potion and so Dobby's funeral would be the first time Harry had been out in public affected by his condition before he returned to school.

He allowed Harry his space as they stood on the border of the forbidden forest at the spot the headmaster had chosen for the elf's burial. He was torn between wanting to support the child in his grief and not wanting to make an awkward situation worse. The day was for Harry to say goodbye to the elf, not to argue about his current living situation. He was already concerned about the presence of the boy's friends, who no doubt would confront him about what he had been through and what Weasley had seen a few days before.

"You had to bring your dog?" he muttered as Lupin came to stand beside him.

"He wouldn't miss an opportunity to see Harry, you know that. How is he?"

"Overburdened."

The headmaster gave the usual words, sounding all the more empty and impersonal to his ears knowing that he viewed them all as players in an elaborate game. This one, merely a piece that was no longer of use. Put him in the ground, say a few kind words, keep your main players happy. How much worse off the world would be if he were on the other side.

H.P.

Harry didn't think he could bear to see Dobby put in a hole in the ground. He didn't even know if that was what he would have wanted. Hermione sniffled wetly beside him as Dumbledore lowered the little box, carefully directing it with his wand.

"Does anybody have anything they wish to say?" Dumbledore finished, looking kindly at each member of the assembled group.

"Uh, yeah, I do." He bit his lip nervously, feeling all eyes fall on him. He twisted his hands tightly behind his back. He hadn't actually prepared anything to say because he didn't really know what proper wizarding funerals were like, but Dobby deserved to have things said. He didn't deserve to be forgotten, buried in the ground with barely anyone here to remember him.

He cleared his throat somewhat unnecessarily. "This wasn't the first time that Dobby put himself in danger to try to save my life and he fought against Voldemort too, in his own way. He was always brave and one of the most loyal friends I've had, but I wish the day Malfoy gave him my sock was the last day I ever saw him and that he was still a free elf out in the wizarding world somewhere. And I'm sorry."

He looked expectantly over at Ron and Hermione.

"Um," Ron began, clearly at a loss. "Dobby... um... I've never seen someone so mental about keeping Harry alive. After what happened in second year I was more worried that Dobby would kill Harry trying to save his life than the nutter loose in the school." Ron scratched the back of his neck, losing his track. "Yeah, he was really loyal and brave. I think he probably wouldn't have been too unhappy if he knew this was how he was going to go. He probably would have been thrilled, knowing him."

Harry couldn't decide whether that was the worst or best thing Ron could have said.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, picking the former camp.

The headmaster took that as an indication that there were no more words left to be said, and there was a ripple along the grass about their feet, which had nothing to do with the bracing, chill wind. The ground seemed to shift, swallowing the grave, and replacing it neatly so that you'd never even know he was under there. There was a great crunch from the forbidden forest as an enormous boulder was levitated over, still dripping with damp moss and dirt. Dumbledore rapidly murmured a powerful Latin incantation that Harry couldn't catch the words of, moulding the stone slowly into shape. An exquisitely carved headstone fell gently from above their heads and settled into place marking where Dobby would finally lay.

"Here lies Dobby, a brave, loyal, free elf."

The instant the words were said they neatly etched themselves into the stone. The headmaster stepped away from the grave, signalling the end of the service. Harry didn't move, even as the others began murmuring to each other.

It was a lovely service– He was very brave– What the hell did that elf do?

It hadn't even taken twenty minutes and there were so few people here. Poor Dobby was murdered and not even all the teachers had come out to see him buried. Hermione might have a point with this SPEW thing; house elves had a rotten lot in life.

"Harry?" Ron and Hermione came back to stand beside him. He couldn't bring himself to look away from the neat little headstone. Shouldn't it say something else? Shouldn't someone else be here to mourn him? Didn't house elves have family?

"I'm glad you guys came," he muttered eventually. He held his cloak tighter about him as a harsh wind whipped through the grounds.

"Of course we were going to come. You mustn't think this was your fault, Harry," Hermione said, reading his thoughts, or perhaps just his expression.

"Really, mate, it wasn't. I was there, I'd know," Ron added.

"If I called for him when you said to then he wouldn't have died," he admitted despairingly.

"It wasn't your fault. Crouch killed him, not you."

He appreciated Ron and Hermione's attempts to make him feel better but it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. It still did nothing to assuage the guilt and pain that lingered, becoming a dull ache, heavy in his chest, and sometimes making it hard to breathe.

"I've heard this already. Snape says it all the time," he muttered, glancing at the man in question. Snape stood on the very edge of the group, with Harry and not. He found himself oddly curious what he could be saying to Remus that could possibly be making him smile. That wasn't normally the effect Snape had on people.

"I heard... Well, I heard that you're still living in the dungeons," Hermione said cautiously, casting her own dubious gaze on the potions professor.

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner."

"Ron told me about what happened in the hospital wing and what you said."

"Ron," he huffed, caught between exasperation and embarrassment. "It's not how I wanted you guys to find out. I wanted to tell you myself but it was Snape's secret too." He looked between the two of them, sensing more than a little unease. He looked back at Ron. "Don't tell me you still think I've been confunded."

"Harry, can't you see why we're concerned? What you said, it's just not you."

"Hermione, come on, I was out of my mind when I said all that stuff! I'd just been tortured, and I was panicking. I would never have said any of that if I was in my right mind. You don't have to bring it up; it's really embarrassing."

"Oh, well, thank goodness," Hermione exhaled. "We were both worried that you were still a little confused–"

"I wasn't confused."

Hermione blinked. "You said you weren't in your right mind, that you wouldn't have said any of that."

"Of course I'd never have said it, but I meant it."

"See?" Ron said, throwing his arms up in despair.

"See what?" Harry bit out, scowling, arms folded tight across his chest.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured in a pitying voice that did nothing for his temper.

"You had it right the first time, mate. You're not in your right mind."

Perhaps sensing danger as Harry's expression darkened further, Hermione tried to play peacemaker. "Maybe you could tell us a bit about living with Professor Snape. We should talk about this so we can understand."

"Don't patronise me." Harry shook his head. "You've made up your minds; whatever I say you're going to be convinced I've lost it."

"That's not true. It's just a shock and it's so, so sudden that a bit of explanation might really help it make sense to us, like it does to you. It's not really fair of you to expect us to understand right away."

"Fair!" Harry exclaimed, with an exhausted laugh. Who came here, to Dobby's funeral, to talk about fair? "Look, I know it's a shock and I know it doesn't make sense, but give him a chance. I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing. Please."

"It's not that we don't trust you; it's just that it all seems very suspicious. What kind of friends would we be if we didn't make sure you were safe? If you had been cursed or given something, you wouldn't know, would you? You might think you're happy even if everything isn't right."

The honest concern in Hermione's gaze did absolutely nothing to quell Harry's mounting frustration. He couldn't help it. Harry gave in to his temper and temptation. "Don't worry about me being forced or confunded, the Ministry checks for all that when you get adopted."

"Adopted? You're not–" Ron squeaked.

"I'm going to be, hopefully."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, wringing her hands anxiously, the numbing cold all but forgotten. "After what you went through we'd completely understand if you were reaching out for some comfort, but I'm not sure Professor Snape is–"

"You don't know what I went through!" Harry snapped, fighting to hold his arms as tightly to his chest as possible, to keep them as still as he was able, and to keep his weariness from his features.

"But adoption? I can't begin to imagine how you feel, but Professor Snape shouldn't be taking advantage of what happened."

"He's not taking advantage of anything," Harry retorted, annoyed that Snape had been right about how the news would be perceived. "I'm not so pathetic that I've come back from that graveyard desperate for the first person who asks to be my dad."

"You've had a horribly traumatic experience, so it wouldn't be that unusual to feel like you need someone. We know you don’t want to go back to the Dursleys."

"It has nothing to do with the Dursleys. I'm going to be adopted and if you were my friends, you'd be happy for me."

"That you're going to be adopted by Snape?" Ron cried incredulously, just a touch too loudly.

An immense bark behind him made Harry jump almost a foot off the ground. He spun on the spot and where a great black dog had been there stood a towering, enraged wizard. "He's going to WHAT?"

"Sirius, change back! Someone might see," came a despairing cry that was thoroughly ignored. Sirius seethed, his teeth bared in an animalistic snarl, and his fists clenched tightly by his side.

"Snape's going to adopt me," Harry answered, staring unflinchingly back at his godfather.

"Harry," Snape groaned, echoing Remus' despair.

"No," Sirius shouted. He looked so wild and furious as he rounded on Snape that Harry took a step back. Snape was far less moved, merely arching a disdainful brow. "I know exactly what you're up to. I won't let you do this!"

"I would think for once, Black, before you say something you might regret."

"There's no way the Ministry will let you have him."

"On the contrary," Snape replied, radiating smugness. "I was just telling Lupin that my meeting with the Ministry's child welfare department went remarkably well and just yesterday they officially accepted my application to adopt Harry."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

His eyes warmed slightly as he looked from Sirius to Harry. "It means I am under consideration. Arrangements are being made to set up a meeting with your aunt and uncle." Just the idea had Harry tempted to really smile for the first time in days.

Until Sirius' ranting ruined the moment, that is. He was just itching to hit Snape, Harry could tell. "I'm not going to let you do this."

"Stop it." Harry had had more than enough of this. This was a good thing, a really good thing and he needed it. He was tired of everything going wrong and tired of the people he loved fighting and trying to convince him he didn't know what he was doing.

"It's up to me if I want to be adopted. I want a family and I want Snape– Severus, sorry, to be mine. You're not worried that he won't protect me or that I won't be happy; you're worried I will be because you hate the idea that I like living with Snape, just like you hate the idea of Snape being my dad. If he can stomach having you around for my sake then you can do the same or you can leave."

Harry didn't look at Snape's expression, nor Ron and Hermione's or the headmaster's either. An astonished silence fell over the group.

"That's not true, Harry. That's not true at all," Sirius breathed, utterly horrified.

"I think you might want to consider that there might be some truth to what he’s saying. In the beginning you might have been worried that Harry wasn't safe, but lately?" Remus interjected apologetically.

"Harry," Sirius murmured, heartbroken.

Even knowing he was right, that Sirius had broken his promise time and time again, he still felt guilty for putting that awful look on his face. "I'm going home. I'll see you guys later."

S.S.

Black grabbed for him as he made to follow the child. "You think you've won, do you?"

He stepped deftly aside and out of reach, twirling his wand absently between his fingers. "What kind of adoptive father would I make if I didn't?"

---

"I know, alright?" Harry snapped, calling out from his bedroom the moment Snape arrived back in his quarters. "I know I shouldn't have said anything and I know that they were never going to be thrilled about this."

He silently held out Harry's potion and he sagged bonelessly onto his bed, enjoying the respite from his symptoms. The emotional damage, the sheer frustration and hurt, he could not heal so easily, but he would be damned if he didn't try.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I hadn't been entirely honest about giving your original Christmas present to Draco?" Severus asked lightly, leaning against the doorjamb.

"He sent it back, did he? Wasn't good enough for him?" Harry replied, reluctantly playing along.

"He probably didn't know what to do with it. Come." With a flick of his wand he sent Harry's winter cloak to hit him square in the face.

"Oi!" He caught it in time, clumsily throwing it on as he followed Severus back through his quarters. "Where are we going?"

"The quidditch pitch will do. You know you cannot fly, not even after taking your potion," Severus reminded him quickly, concerned he would get his hopes up despite having explained the dangers at length. Harry's perception of risk was utterly Gryffindor, mixed with a total lack of self-preservation. It was a wonder he had survived this long.

"I know. You don't have to go on about it again."

---

Harry balled his hands into fists and bundled them under his arms, wrapping his cloak as tight about him as it would go. If he was going to routinely forget he was a wizard, the least he could do was try not to forget he owned gloves. It occurred to Severus as he cast a warming charm for both of them that this activity wasn't exactly weather appropriate.

"What are we doing here, then?" Harry asked, not looking at all pleased to be out in the cold again.

Severus pulled the shrunken gift from inside his robe pocket, stepped back, and waved his wand to restore it to its original size. He folded his arms, feeling foolish once more. If this did not cheer the boy up...

Harry looked up at him, eyes wide behind his glasses, before breaking out in an absurd smile, the first genuine smile he'd seen since that terrible night. "You got this for me for Christmas?"

"One of your memories was particularly vivid."

"Yeah, Dudley had one and I wanted one so badly," he replied, heaving the bike from the ground and holding it upright.

"I'm well aware that it isn't your ideal gift now, and that the memory was old and one amongst many..."

"No, it's awesome," Harry breathed, barely able to keep his eyes off it. "Thank you. I would have loved it at Christmas."

Severus was almost tempted to smile himself. "For the next hour it should be safe enough for you to use it, until the effects of the potion wear off."

"Oh," Harry said, sounding a good deal less enthused. He scuffed his foot on the ground, intensely studying the toe of his shoe.

"It's not obligatory," Severus said, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to ride the thing."

"It's not that. It’s just that I haven't ever, uh, I don't exactly know how..."

"I assumed." He knew a good few spells that would help with the process but he left his wand where it was, holding the bike upright while Harry got on. "I do know the mechanics of riding a bike; they had been invented when I was your age."

"What, way back then?" Harry asked cheekily, all trace of embarrassment gone as he set to testing the brakes.

"No self-preservation whatsoever. You think it wise to taunt the man who's going to be keeping you from falling off this contraption, do you?"

"You mean my dad? It'll be alright; he's not as bad as he makes out." He kicked the pedals round into the right position, balancing one foot tentatively on the pedal, the other on the ground. "I've heard it's easier to balance the faster you go."

"I'm beginning to regret this already. I haven't set any safety charms yet, and watching you fall off isn't going to be nearly so amusing if I have to clean up fragments of your skull."

He didn't know how this would all work out. The Dark Lord's return had never originally factored into his plan to have a family. In truth, having a family was not even close to how he saw his life playing out and a large part of that was because he had neither wanted it, nor believed he had the required skills, or the required feeling.

Harry didn't take to the bike quite as well as he had to a broom, but he still seemed to pick cycling up remarkably quickly. Severus winced at the slam of the bike colliding at speed with the spectator stands. Harry had managed to make a spectacular leap to the side to avoid Severus' prediction coming true, and for some unknown reason seemed to find the situation amusing.

"Well, now I know it doesn't brake like a broom."

"I think that's enough at any rate," he declared. He shrunk the bike and handed it over for Harry to look after.

"Thanks for this." His face fell as he turned the little bike over in his hands, his mood becoming sombre and Severus thought he could actually see the burden settle onto his shoulders once more.

"Even during war there are moments of happiness to be had," he gently reminded him.

" It's all messed up now. Everything's wrong, Severus."

"This is only just the beginning."

"That's not very comforting, sir."

"You don't have to worry. You won't last long," Severus replied, placing a hand on his shoulder to steer him out of the quidditch pitch and back across the school grounds. "I'm going to kill you. Obviously I'll adopt you first and keep you around for a short while to use you for potions ingredients, so that I can regain my place in the Dark Lord's inner circle, but then I'll murder you."

"That simplifies things, I guess," Harry shrugged.

"For you. It's quite an elaborate scheme on my part. Black saw through my plot immediately, but I always knew it would be his incredible wit and perception that I would have to contend with above all else."

He certainly had the feelings required, that he loved the child was certain. With so much to be done, a horcrux looming over them, a Dark Lord to defeat and a traumatised child to see into adulthood, only time would tell if that would be enough.

The End.