There were puddles in the entryway. Actual puddles of water on the dirty, and probably half rotten, wooden floor of the entryway of Spinner’s End number 8.

Severus Snape sighed to himself. That’s what he got for waiting two months, the time it had been left until the summer holidays, to clean out his childhood home after his father had finally drunk himself to an early death. The small brick house and the mess inside it now belonged to Severus. 

As he made his way further inside he noticed there were bags of empty bottles almost everywhere, old and, thankfully, empty food containers left at random places throughout the rooms and over it all the general stench of alcohol and old sweat. The ceiling was leaking in some places and Severus suspected there might be rats too. He had half a mind to just burn it all down. However there might still be some of his mother’s old possessions hidden somewhere beneath the mess Tobias had left behind. Eileen might not have been a very maternal woman, but she had owned some rather valuable potions texts, among other things.

So it was with a sigh that Severus got started on the cleaning, one layer of the chaotic mess at the time.

It was a slow and rather ungrateful task. Despite the use of his magic he still had to look through everything before he could use any spells on it. Mostly it was just trash; old alcohol bottles or food containers, his father’s very worn and unwashed clothes and some shoes. It was not until several hours later that he finally found something of somewhat value. A box with some of his mother’s old books, which had probably only remained in the house because Tobias had been unable to find anyone to sell them to. The man had a tendency to sell anything he could when he had no more money for alcohol.

Unwelcome memories kept appearing in his mind. Severus tried to push them aside but surrounded by the familiar house in which he had had the misfortune of growing up it was hard to completely ignore the memories. His father, drunk and angry. Eileen, cold and detached in one moment, the next moment arguing loudly with her drunk husband or cowering in fear when the same husband got violent. He remember spending as much time away from the house as he could. The only time he had willingly spent much time around his parents had been when Eileen had been brewing her potions. Sometimes she had been in a good mood and willing to share her knowledge with Severus. Those times were some of the happiest Severus had of his parents.

Finally starting to feel hungry Severus realized that he had been hard at work for the better part of six hours. Perhaps it was time to take a break. He could go to the local grocery store, which was not too far away, get something to eat and maybe get his mind off of the old memories as well. Yes, that would be nice.

It was a short walk to the grocery store. He only met a few people and none of them greeted him. Not that Severus minded. He had no will to talk to these people anyway. No, he would finish cleaning out the house as quickly as possible and that was it.

It was when he was on his way home that the relative peace of Spinner’s End was broken, and Severus’ life was about to take a turn he never would have expected.

“PEANUT! COME BACK HERE BOY!”

The shout seemed to be immediately followed by a rabbit suddenly running out in front of him. Severus stumbled a little, trying to avoid stepping on the little creature.

“PEANUT! WHERE’D YOU … ouch!”

Directly behind the rabbit came a small boy, and this time Severus did not have the time to avoid a collision. The boy went sprawling on the ground and Severus barely managed to keep a hold of the groceries and remain from falling ungracefully on his behind.

“Watch where you are going boy!” he snarled.

“Sorry sir! I was just trying to catch my bunny.”

“You are not going to catch anything by shouting the way you were,” Severus coldly informed the boy, before finally focusing his eyes on the rude little cretin.

“But I have to catch him!” the boy replied. “He’s not supposed to be out of his cage.”

For a very brief moment Severus felt his breath hitch in surprise. Green eyes, dishevelled, dark hair, lightning bolt shaped scar in the forehead … there was no mistaking who this boy was. But how was he here, in Cokeworth, not far from Severus’ childhood home?

“Did you see where he went to sir?” the Potter-miniature asked. “Peanut, that is?”

“Peanut?” Severus repeated questioningly.

“Yeah. My bunny. ‘Bout this size,” the boy said, holding up his hands to demonstrate. “An’ white with little brown spots all over.”

From the very brief glimpse Severus had gotten, that did sound like the creature that had almost ended its life under his feet.

“No, I did not see where it went off to,” he finally replied.

“Oh. Well, thanks anyway sir. An’ sorry for running into you like that!”

With that the boy ran past Severus, clearly intent on finding his bunny.

“PEANUT! WHERE’D YOU GO BOY?”

Shaking his head at the foolishness of the boy Severus continued on towards his home. Obviously the child was in no danger, and surely his guardians were around somewhere. It was not Severus’ job to look after him.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry didn’t mean to be troublesome for his grandfather, he really didn’t. But gramps had been asleep and Harry didn’t want to wake him up, so he had thought that he would just play quietly with his pet bunny. Unfortunately Peanut had had other ideas, because as soon as Harry had it out of the cage it wriggled out of the five-year-olds arms.

He’d known right then and there that he should have left the bunny alone until his grandfather woke up. As the nice little boy he was Harry just wanted to put the bunny back in the cage and pretend like he had never gotten this idea to begin with. However, again, the bunny had other ideas.

Harry was sure that he had been searching for hours by now and frankly he just wanted to go back home. But gramps would be so mad when Harry told him that he had let Peanut loose, and he couldn’t really go back home and leave Peanut all alone, could he? So Harry continued to search.

“PEANUT?” he called. “PEANUT? Please come out Peanut!”

Gramps would be very, very mad. Harry knew that he wasn’t supposed to play with the bunny on his own, which was probably because gramps had thought that something like this would happen. And poor Peanut! All alone out here, probably scared and wanting to go home too. It was Harry’s duty to find him!

Just then he spotted the bunny.

“PEANUT!” he called, charging towards his pet.

Peanut did not appear to appreciate the gesture, because he fled through a hole in a nearby fence. Harry groaned to himself. The hole was too small for him to get through. However he did have to follow Peanut somehow if he were to ever catch him.

“Peanut!” he pleaded through the hole. “Please come out Peanut! Gramps will be mad if we don’t go home soon.”

Peanut didn’t appear to be listening, or maybe he didn’t care that Harry would get in trouble.

“Stupid bunny,” Harry muttered to himself. “Why can’t you just come here?”

Well, Harry thought as he took a step back to get a better look at the fence, it didn’t matter whether Peanut was a stupid bunny or not. He was Harry’s bunny and Harry had to get him back. And to get him back, Harry had to pass the fence somehow. If he couldn’t get through the hole, and if the ground was solid earth and thereby impossible to dig in, there was only one way for him to go. He gulped nervously as the wooden fence suddenly seemed to grow much, much taller. Somehow he would have to climb over it.

At first he tried jumping and reaching for the top, but quickly discovered that he was much too short for that. If only he had been taller, or a better jumper, like Peanut. As it was he would have to try something else.

A garbage can nearby gave him another idea, and with some struggle he managed to drag it closer to the fence. Standing on top of it Harry was just barely able to reach the top of the fence.

“Yes,” he hissed to himself as he tried to pull himself up.

It was hard, but after a few tries and the prospect of being able to finally catch Peanut once had passed this fence, he was finally able to pull himself up. After that it was a simple matter of an ungraceful tumble to get over and down.

Except that things were not quite that easy. On the other side of the fence was a very overgrown garden and Harry tumbled right into a big patch of stinging nettles.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Having finished his lunch Severus had returned to the cleaning. The entryway and parts of the living room were now mostly clean and he had moved on to the bedrooms. Tobias old room smelled strongly of alcohol and cigarettes. Severus supressed the urge to wince at the stench and quickly banished a pile of old clothing. A more primitive side of him wanted to burn it all, burn everything that reminded him of his father. Now that was an entertaining thought, Severus mulled with a grim smile.

“AAAAIIIIEEE!”

A howl suddenly pierced the silence, forcefully pulling Severus out of his thoughts. Quickly he was at the window, from where he soon spotted a somewhat familiar boy stumbling around in the back yard. The boy howled like he was being attacked by malicious pixies and tried to tangle himself free from the stinging nettles that had long since overtaken the backyard. However, since the back yard was full of them, the boy had very little success in getting free of them.

Acting instinctively it was a matter of moments before Severus was downstairs, wielding his wand. With a few quick twists of his hand the nettles had been cut off and he could easily make his way over to the howling boy.

“Come here boy,” Severus grunted, pulling at the boy as he spoke.

The boy did not fight him, although he continued to howl, tears running down his face. As it had been a warm day the boy was dressed in simple shorts and a t-shirt with short sleeves, clothing that had allowed the nettles to get to a lot of skin. Realising that he would have to treat the irritated skin Severus wordlessly dragged the boy inside and to the bathroom.

He pushed the boy into the shower began spraying him with cold water to alleviate the stinging. At first the boy fought the cold water Severus sprayed at him, forcing Severus to hold him in place. Eventually the boy calmed down enough to notice that the cold water was helping against the stinging, and Severus didn’t need to work so hard to keep him in place any longer. Not that it saved Severus from getting soaked too.

After several minutes of the treatment Severus finally turned the water off and reached for a towel.

“Th-thank you, s-sir,” the boy sobbed.

“What do you think you were doing, you hare-brained fool?” Severus exclaimed, trying not to be too rough as he dried the boy with the towel.

“I-I was just trying to catch Peanut. My bunny.”

“Still haven’t caught that blasted thing?” Severus muttered, more to himself that the boy.

“He ran through a hole in the fence,” the boy added. “I was just t-trying to … I climbed over it.”

“You were just trying to break your neck, is that it?” Severus scolded. “Foolish, thoughtless, imbecile!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out of those clothes and dry yourself up,” Severus ordered, handing the towel to the boy.

Swiftly he left the room. Of all the moronic things to do! This was clearly the spawn of James Potter, not that the exterior left any doubt in that regard.

Searching through the few things he had brought with him Severus finally found some burn salve and breathed a sigh of relief. It was not ideal for treating stinging nettle, but it was more effective than any muggle treatment at least. Not that he had any muggle medicines at hand anyway.

When he returned to the bathroom he found Potter junior only dressed in his underwear, furiously itching at his arm.

“Stop that!” Severus ordered.

“But it’s itching!” the child complained.

“And you are only making it worse like that! Now come here and let me put on this salve.”

Apparently thinking more clearly now the boy hesitated briefly before doing as he had been told. Severus quickly rubbed some of the salve onto the hot skin, hoping that it would work. It was the only thing he had on hand at the moment, as he had not thought that he would ever get in a situation like this.

“It tickles,” the boy told him.

“That means it’s working,” Severus replied, forcing himself to be a little gentler as he rubbed the child’s arms and legs with the salve.

Stupid, idiotic boy! Severus was not sure what had him the angriest; that the boy had actually tried to climb the fence surrounding the back yard or that this encounter was forcing him to face yet another of the ghosts from his past. Either way he felt like wringing the boy’s neck around!

“Thanks,” the child said once Severus had finished.

Severus grunted, not trusting himself not to continue scolding the boy. Instead he stood and turned away from the boy, discretely casting a quick spell to dry his clothes. No need to flaunt the fact that he was a wizard, or surely the boy would start demanding that Severus bow and scrape his foot!

 “I’m Harry,” Potter junior introduced himself. “What’s your name?”

Severus allowed himself a long, suffering sigh. He had absolutely no interest in befriending James Potter’s spawn. None at all. No interest what so ever. Quite the opposite. Yet here he was. Why had fate decided to throw this particular boy in his way?

“It’s Snape,” he finally replied, forcing his vice to be emotionless. “But you should address me as ‘sir’.”

“Thank you sir, for helping me with the nettles.”

Which reminded him, again, of just how foolish this child was. Severus took a deep breath, holding back the urge to start scolding the boy again. It was better to just get this whole thing over with.

“I trust you will not be so foolish again,” he muttered. 

“I was just trying to catch Peanut, my bunny,” the boy explained once again. “He ran through a hole in the fence but I was too big to follow.”

“It would have been far smarter of you to walk around the premises and knock the door, and I might have let you into the back yard without you having to climb that fence,” Severus explained impatiently.

“I didn’t think about that,” the boy admitted.

“Obviously. Now here, put on your clothes and we’ll see about that bunny of yours.”

Lily’s eyes grew larger in Potter junior’s face as the boy realised that his clothes were now dry.

“Wow! How’d you do that?!” he wondered, while complying and quickly getting dressed.

“Magic,” Severus replied with an ironic drawl.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” the boy informed him then. “How’d you really do it?”

“Never mind,” Severus said, hiding his surprise that the boy was apparently unaware of the magical world. “Now, does that bunny have some sort of favourite snack or something we might use as a bait?”

“Uhm, h-he likes apples.”

“Apples it is,” Severus stated, heading for the kitchen where he had the fruit he had bought earlier.

An apple was quickly washed and sliced into smaller pieces, which Severus put on a small plate, before he led the boy back out into the back yard. Surprisingly Potter junior watched in silence and managed not to get into any more trouble. For now at least.

“Now, let’s see if we can find that bunny …” Severus muttered to himself.

Carefully he stepped out among the cut off nettles, looking for the white and brown little creature he had almost stepped on earlier. Potter Junior hesitated but followed him after a moment, careful not to step too close to the piles of nettles that lay on the ground.

“His name’s Peanut,” the boy informed him.

“So I’d gathered.”

Although the yard was not very large it was still rather overgrown, even with some of the nettles cut down, and they spent a good five minutes looking for the bunny. Finally Severus spotted him, hiding behind what had once been his mother’s raspberry bushes.

“There he is,” he pointed out.

“PEA-hmpf.” Severus hand over the boy’s mouth quickly managed to silence the rest of the shout.

“Do not shout!” Severus ordered. “Do not make any noise, do not run up to him; in fact, do not move at all!”

He waited until Potter junior had nodded his understanding before removing his hand.

“Now stay there, and let me take care of this.”

Although the boy seemed to be itching to move he obeyed Severus orders and remained carefully still. Severus carefully stepped a little closer before crouching down on the ground and gently tossing a piece of apple in the direction of the bunny. Peanut sniffed the air hesitantly, drawn between curiosity and fear. After a moment he stepped forward, sniffing the apple and quickly starting to eat.

When the bunny had finished the piece Severus tossed him another one, a bit closer to Severus. The bunny followed suit and moved closer. Severus remained unmoving, silently praying that the child behind him would not lose patience and do something stupid.

The third piece of apple was a little closer still to Severus. Peanut hesitated a little, looking at Severus, before finally deciding that the man was no threat. Severus allowed the bunny to start eating, just long enough to stop focusing on Severus, before his hand snatched out. With speed and precision born from gathering and handling many dangerous potions ingredients Severus caught the bunny over the neck in a firm but not harsh grip.

“YOU GOT HIM, YOU GOT HIM!” Potter junior immediately exclaimed, rushing forward to take the bunny.

Severus gave one look at the excited five year old and wrapped the frightened bunny protectively in his own arms.

“I believe it is safer if I hold on to him for now.”

“But …”

“Do not take it for granted that I can catch him again if you were to drop him.”

Potter junior looked a bit dejected but accepted Severus words with only minor pouting.

“I’ll follow you home and carry him for you,” Severus decided.

“You sure? I can take him myself, if it’s too much trouble for you.”

“I am certain. Now, lead the way.”

It was little surprise from Severus’ side when the boy led the way towards the park where Severus and Lily had played as children. The park divided this part of town. On the south side there where shabby little brick houses such as the one Severus had used to live in. The north side was vastly different, the houses being larger and cleaner, with both a front and a back yard, mostly inhabited by people with a higher income than anyone living on the south side of the park.

“I live with my grandfather,” Potter junior chattered. “He wanted me to come live with him; said he was getting old and he needed someone young to keep him entertained. He’s REALLY old, so I can kind of see why, but he’s nice anyway.”

Severus focused on petting the bunny, which had now settled somewhat comfortably in his arms, and mostly ignored the boy’s chatter. It wasn’t like he was interested anyway. He would just drop the boy and the bunny off and then he would not have to deal with Potter until he was old enough to attend Hogwarts. That thought was strangely comforting at the moment.

Although years had gone since Severus had last visited Cokeworth, much less this particular part of it, not too much had changed. The houses were neat and well kept, the front yards full of healthy flower beds, and the few people that were out smiled fondly at them as they passed.

Number 22 was somewhat rundown, the flowerbeds looking tired and the fence being in need of a new layer of paint. This did not seem to bother the boy though.

“We better go around to the back,” Potter junior suggested. “Peanut’s cage is there. Maybe gramps won’t notice …”

The last part was so quiet Severus was certain he was not meant to hear it. He scoffed a little to himself but followed the boy around the house. Of course James Potter’s spawn would be unwilling to suffer the consequences of his actions. Like father like son, and all that.

“Here,” the boy said, kneeling down by the open cage.

Severus joined him on the grass, carefully putting the bunny inside the cage before closing the door, making sure it was carefully locked.

“Harry, is that you?”

Severus froze where he was kneeling at the sound of the familiar voice.

“Gramps!” the boy beside him exclaimed.

“Where have you been Harry? I’ve been worried sick about you! And who’s this?”

Forcing himself to move Severus checked the latch a last time before he stood up and faced the older man, who had for a short time been more of a father figure to him than his own father.

Joseph Evans had aged, and the years did not appear to have been kind to him either. When Severus had known the man he had been in his fifties, a strong if not burly man and full of life. Now he had to be near 70; still standing tall, although it seemed to be with more effort than it used to, from what Severus could tell, the once dark hair was completely grey and the clean shaven face bore wrinkles that had not been there before. The eyes were still the same though. Lily had inherited her eyes from her father.

“Gooday sir,” Severus greeted the man. “You may not remember me, but …”

“Severus! Is that you? Good lord, you’ve grown since I last saw you!”

The elder man’s face lit up in a warm smile and a moment later Severus found himself embraced in a hug. He stood stiffly, very much unused to being hugged out of the blue and also surprised that the man still remembered him.

“Gramps? You know Mr. Snape?” the child asked, but his question was ignored.

“It must have been, what, ten years since I last saw you?” Joseph continued when he finally pulled away to look closer at Severus.

They were about the same height now, but Severus still felt like he was a young teenager looking up at the elder man. Perhaps it had something to do with not seeing the man for so long. Severus almost felt guilty, but after Lily and he had fallen apart he had kept away from Cokeworth as much as he could, and this part in particular.

“Yes, that sounds about right,” he agreed, managing not to choke on the pain the memories brought forward.

“It’s so nice to see you! You know, I always wondered what became of you. You were such a nice boy … But here you are, back in Cokeworth! And you’ve met my Harry too, I see. I hope the little tyke hasn’t been causing you too much trouble, has he?”

“I hasn’t, I promise!” Potter interjected. “But gramps, how do you know Mr. Snape?”

It was rather surreal, being faced with so many memories at the same time. Only years of occluding enabled Severus to manage a polite smile.

“Apparently, the bunny got free and escaped into my back yard,” he explained, gesturing towards Peanut, who was now happily eating away at his hay.

“I see, I see. And you decided to help my grandson out, didn’t you? Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea and tell me all about it?”

“Actually, I should get going,” Severus said, stepping away a little. “I have a lot to do and …”

“Surely you do not have too much to do to have a cup of tea with an old man and allow me to thank you properly for helping my Harry out? Come on Severus, I’ll have tea ready in a moment!”

Without further ado, Severus found himself dragged inside and deposited in an armchair with a somewhat faded floral pattern. He remembered sitting in it before, when he visited Lily’s house. Her father had used to sit on the couch and talk to him while her mother made tea and biscuits in the kitchen, which she then forced Severus to take second and sometimes third helpings of.

“Graaamps!” Potter junior whined, apparently not happy about being ignored. “How’d you know Mr. Snape?”

“He was a friend of your mothers, when she was young,” Joseph informed his grandson, with a pat to the head. “Now, why don’t you keep him company while I prepare the tea?”

There were no objections and soon Severus found himself intensely scrutinised by the child.

“You knew my mom?” the boy asked, as if to confirm what his grandfather had just told him.

Severus rather wished the man had withheld that piece if information from the boy, seeing as he had absolutely no intention to befriend the child. Judging from the eager look in those green eyes Potter junior had other ideas though.

“I did, for a short while,” he confirmed.

“What was she like? Gramps says she was very kind and beautiful, but I don’t remember. She died when I was very little, so I don’t remember.”

It was almost like a physical blow. Severus had to take a moment just to gather himself. He had not realised that the pain was still so strong, still as overwhelming as it used to be. It had been years and he thought he had grown used to the pain, but somehow sitting here with the boy she had died trying to protect made it all seem new again.

Eager, green eyes looked at him, awaiting an answer. Severus was not sure what to say, partly because he did not wish to discuss this topic at all, and partly because he was not sure this was the company he would have chosen to do so in if he had to.

“She was,” he finally agreed. “Very kind, and very beautiful.”

And the boy nodded, as if that was all the answer he needed.

“Gramps has lots of pictures of her; she looks kind. Kind of like the lady at the bakery, but not as big.”

Looking around suspiciously the boy moved closer, until he was standing right next to Severus’ chair. For a horrible moment Severus thought the boy would climb into his lap, though thankfully the boy refrained from doing so. Instead he leaned forward and spoke in a low, secretive voice, as if he was sharing a big secret with Severus.

“Sometimes I pretend she’s not dead at all. Like she’s just away on a long travel; and someday she’ll come back for me. Mom and dad both. And then we’ll be together all the time, like a real family.”

Lily had died to protect this boy. This little green-eyed, black haired boy who looked so much like the father but so obviously missed his mother terribly. For a brief moment Severus could feel something stirring somewhere deep within him. He had been determined to hate this child from the very beginning, but he too was someone who felt the loss of Lily very strongly. To that, Severus could relate, even if the boy was also James Potter’s son.

The moment broke when Joseph entered the room, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

“Can I have a chocolate biscuit gramps, can I? Can I?” Potter junior shouted as he ran towards his grandfather, almost causing the old man to stumble.

Severus wanted to rebuke the child for running and yelling inside but bit his tongue. It was not his place to teach the brat proper manners, at least not until he was officially a student at Hogwarts. Joseph chuckled and put the tray down on the table, immediately handing his grandson the requested sweets.

“Now, let’s see … Two spoons of sugar but no milk, isn’t that how you want it, Severus?” Joseph spoke as he poured tea into the two cups.

“No sugar please,” Severus corrected.

“I seem to remember a boy who’d always ask for two spoons of sugar in his tea, and then add another four whenever he thought we weren’t looking,” Joseph mumbled with a smile, but handed Severus his tea without adding any sugar.

A small blush crept to his cheeks as he accepted the tea. Had he really been so obvious about it? As a child Severus had hated tea, but his pride had forbidden him from admitting to it, and so he had tried to discretely sweeten it with as much sugar as possible.

“Can I have another biscuit gramps?”

“Here you go. Don’t eat too many though, or you’ll get a stomach ache.”

At last Joseph seated himself in the armchair next to the one Severus was occupying, while the boy happily chewed away at his biscuits sitting on the couch.

“Now Severus, why don’t you tell me how you met my grandson? I’m sure it’s quite a story, and one I’m very interested to hear at that.”

After a sip of the tea Severus began to retell the events that had taken place earlier that day. Joseph listened carefully, nodding occasionally but choosing to remain silent so that Severus could say what he wanted to say. It was somewhat awkward at first, but sitting in the familiar armchair, in the familiar room with a man he trusted, he found himself reverting back to his old self worryingly quick. Even so, it was not a particularly long story to tell and Severus soon fell quiet.

“I see. Once again, thank you for helping my grandson with the bunny. I would have done it myself, had I not been asleep, believing that Harry was playing in his room like he was told to.”

“I was bored,” the boy immediately defended himself. “And I didn’t mean for Peanut to run away, but then I had to get him back, didn’t I?”

“We will talk about that later, young man.” Joseph’s voice was neither stern nor harsh, just serious, however it seemed to have the proper effect as Potter junior blushed and looked down guiltily.

“I didn’t mean to,” the boy repeated.

“I should get going,” Severus interjected. “I really do have things I have to do.”

“Are you sure, Severus?”

“I am.”

“Well, then I won’t stop you, of course. Do come by again though. I’d love to hear what you are doing nowadays.”

Severus nodded in agreement, although he had no plans to actually return, and stood to leave.

“Bye, Mr. Snape! And thanks for helping me with Peanut!”

Potter junior was all smiles again as he waved goodbye to Severus. Severus refrained from making a scathing remark and quietly left the house, hoping he would not have to see Harry Potter again for several years.

That evening he apparated back to his rooms at Hogwarts, where he had taken to staying even over the summer. In many ways Hogwarts was more of a home to him than Spinner’s End had ever been, and at the moment Spinner’s End was even less liveable than it had used to be.

However, even surrounded by the comfortable room and his many books and journals he found himself thinking about Harry Potter. What force had brought them together today? Surely it was not a mere coincidence? No, Severus did not believe that something like this was a coincidence.

How had the Potter boy even come to live with his grandfather? From what Severus had heard, whenever Dumbledore spoke of the boy, he was living with his adoring aunt and her family, probably being spoiled rotten. And while the child Severus had met today was definitely spoilt he also had a feeling that there was more to Harry Potter than met the eye.

He slept uneasily that night and got up early, not one to stay in bed for very long when he could not sleep anyway. There were plenty left to do at Spinner’s End. If he continued working at a decent pace he could probably have the house cleaned out by the end of the week. What he would do with it then he had no idea. Maybe sell it. Not that it was worth much, but still. Maybe it would just be easier to keep it? He would have to look into that when he got the time.

The kitchen was a mess. Severus had gotten started on it yesterday but was far from done. As new surfaces were revealed beneath the piles of disgusting trash he spelled brushes to clean things up further, hoping to get rid of some of the grime. It would make things easier to him if he could use the kitchen while he cleaned the house out.

Sometime midmorning there was a knock on the door. Severus ignored it at first, thinking that it had to be some sales person or deluded neighbour. However the knocking repeated itself, becoming more impatient as it did so. Severus straightened up and headed for the door, a grim expression on his face.

“MR. SNAAPEE! IT’S ME! HARRY!” a familiar voice suddenly called.

Even more annoyed than previously Snape pulled the door open, ready to tell the rude little brat to go mind his own business, only to come face to face with Joseph Evans. The man smiled warmly at Severus. Thrown off Severus found himself speechless for a moment, before he managed to gather himself enough to speak.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice perhaps a tad more polite than he felt at the moment.

“Oh, Harry insisted we come by and thank you again for your help yesterday,” Joseph explained. “Isn’t that right Harry?”

“Yeah. I even drew you a picture, Mr. Snape! See!”

The boy thrust a slightly wrinkled piece of paper at him. Automatically Severus accepted the thing, bringing it closer to his eyes for scrutiny. It was not a student essay but it was clear none the less that the boy expected some sort of comment on his project.

“He worked on it all morning,” Joseph added, affectionately running a hand through his grandson’s hair.

Severus refrained from making a comment about all that work being to waste. The picture made no sense to him. A blur of poorly drawn figures that could basically be anything, as far as Severus was concerned, and a lot more colour that was probably some sort of background.

“What does it depict?” he wondered.

“It’s Peanut, and you and me! See, that’s you, in black!” The boy explained, pulling the drawing down so that he could proudly point out the particulars of his masterpiece. “That’s Peanut, and that’s me over there!”

Well, that made some sense, Severus supposed, looking at the picture again.

“Why is Peanut trying to eat me?” he asked.

“He’s not trying to eat you, he’s eating that apple! See?”

No, Severus could not see it. And frankly he had never seen a bunny with fangs the size of the blob of white and brown that was apparently supposed to be Peanut the bunny. They were almost as tall as the blob that was supposedly Potter.

“Just run with it,” Joseph whispered to Snape, so that the boy did not hear it. “He’s no Picasso and he never will be, but he puts his heart into it every time.”

Clearing his throat Severus wondered what he had done to get into this situation. He had no idea how to handle it. Had it been a student project he would have given it a Troll-grade and moved on, but both Potter junior and Joseph appeared to be expecting him to praise this thing.

“Ah,” he said at last. “Of course. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! It’s for helping me catch Peanut yesterday. And saving me from the nettles and all that.”

Potter beamed up at him. Severus had to look away, and instead met Joseph’s amused eyes.

“How are things going?” Joseph inquired politely, nodding towards the house.

“It’s progressing,” Severus said, not wanting to go into details.

“Would you care to join us for lunch?”

“Please?” Potter added.

“Actually, I have …”

“Please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE Mr. Snape!”

Joseph was clearly amused by his grandson’s antics. Severus was not so amused, however it made him glad to see the old man enjoy himself. And there were things Severus wanted to discuss anyway; questions he wanted to ask.

“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll accept your invitation for lunch.”

“Yes!” Potter cheered, doing a little dance.

“Very well,” Joseph smiled. “We usually eat around twelve, so just come over and lunch will be ready.”

“Understood.”

It was with a mixture of relief and anticipation that he watched the two leave. Relief because being around the Potter boy made him uncomfortable, and anticipation because in just a couple of hours he would have to join them for a meal. What had he gotten himself into?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Lunch was surprisingly nice. It consisted of simple tomato soup and sandwiches, which Severus ate of eagerly as he had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning. Potter managed to both eat and chatter away, however Joseph did correct him when he got too excited, allowing them to eat in some peace at least.

“Harry, why don’t you go play outside while Mr. Snape and I take care of the dishes?” Joseph suggested when they had all finished eating.

“Alright!”

“Just don’t go too far!”

“I won’t gramps! Promise!”

As the boy ran out into the back yard Joseph stood to take the dishes to the sink. Severus stood too to help, but Joseph waved for him to sit back down.

“Sit down Severus. Let me take care of these.”

“I thought you said you wanted my help with them?”

“It was just an excuse to get some time alone. Now you can ask those questions you’ve been wanting to ask.”

“What questions?” Severus asked, surprised that the man had managed to read him so accurately. He had thought he was more discrete than that.

“You tell me, and I’ll tell you the answers.”

Despite himself Severus had to smile a little at that. He never had been able to hide much from Joseph, or his wife for that matter. Which was one of the reasons he had avoided them after the fallout between him and Lily. Speaking of it …

“Where is Daisy?” he asked.

“Dead,” Joseph replied, short and to the point. “Died last December.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be. She had cancer. Fought it for years before it finally became too much. In the end, I think it was a relief for her that it was over.”

Although Joseph was obviously trying to downplay it Severus could hear how the man’s voice had gotten a bit thicker in sadness. Severus decided to change the subject. He might try to find out more about Daisy Evans’ death later.

“How come your grandson is living with you? Is it a temporary arrangement?”

Joseph, who had been putting plates in the sink, paused for a moment before he continued, covering them with warm water.

“No, it’s no temporary arrangement. At least it’s not meant to be.”

“So how did it come about?” Severus questioned, wanting more information.

“How it came about, you say? Well, I don’t know all the details, I’ll admit that, but basically, what happened was that …”

And so Joseph began to tell the story, as Severus sat at the table and listened carefully to every word. 

”I can’t believe my Duddy is big enough to start school! Seems like only yesterday he was in diapers …” aunt Petunia sniffed sentimentally.

Harry resisted the urge to point out that it wasn’t really that long ago since Dudley had stopped wearing diapers at night.

“That’s my boy! Going to take everybody by storm, aren’t you, Dudley?” uncle Vernon agreed with his wife.

Aunt Petunia was hugging Dudley, looking like she was going to cry. Uncle Vernon was somewhat less emotional but held a camera in his hands, with which he snapped photos of Dudley in his school uniform.

Harry stood silently next to the car, watching his family. Not a word was said about it being his first day at school too. It hurt a little, somewhere in his chest, to realize that they really didn’t care about him. All that mattered were Dudley and his accomplishments.

Even so he had hoped that perhaps they would be a little bit happy for him when he started school. Aunt Petunia had even brought him his own school uniform! She had complained about how expensive it was and what a waste of money it was to spend them on Harry, but she had bought two sets of the uniform none the less.

Of course, for Dudley she had bought a lot more. Not only five sets of the school uniform but also two pairs of new, shiny black shoes to go with them, a new book bag to carry his new books and pencils in, a new lunch box with some cartoon Dudley liked and plenty of other things. For some reason Dudley starting school had also warranted a bunch of new toys as well.

“Time to get going, Petunia dear. Won’t do for Dudders to be late for his first day of school,” uncle Vernon cautioned.

“Aw, my big Dudders …”

Now aunt Petunia really was crying as she hugged Dudley tightly. Harry made a face and looked away. He often wished that his aunt would love him like she loved Dudley, but sometimes he almost felt sorry for his cousin. Like now.

Finally uncle Vernon managed to get everyone into the car. Harry sat quietly in the back seat, chewing on his bottom lip. He was a big boy now, starting school and everything, but if he were to be honest with himself he was a bit frightened too. What if the other kids didn’t like him? What if Harry got lost? What if the teachers didn’t like him? What if everyone thought Harry was stupid, just like his relatives so often told him he was?

“My little boy is starting school!” aunt Petunia exclaimed, not for the first time, with tears in her eyes.

“’m not little mom!” Dudley complained.

“Of course not. Silly me. You’re a big boy Dudley. Starting school already …” She sniffed to herself, wiping away a few tears.

“A big boy he is,” uncle Vernon agreed. “Dudley will make us proud for sure! Show everyone what a wonderful and bright little boy he is!”

“An’ Piers will be there too!” Dudley added excitedly.

“And you’ll make many other friends too, son!” uncle Vernon agreed.

Harry shifted a little in his seat, trying to discretely wipe some dirt off of his shoes. They had been Dudleys before they became Harry’s, just like most of Harry’s belongings. The only reason he had gotten a new school uniform was because Dudley did not have an old one of those. Though Harry suspected that eventually he would be given Dudleys old, outgrown uniforms rather than getting new ones.

What if he didn’t like school after all? What if he really was stupid and the teacher decided that Harry was too dumb to go to school?

“Here we are,” uncle Vernon said as he made a turn into the school parking lot. Already there were plenty of other parents and children there.

A new fear struck Harry when he saw all of the other children. There were so many of them, and most were bigger than Harry or even Dudley. Suddenly he was convinced that it was a mistake for him to start school. Everyone would hate him. Not even his aunt and uncle liked him, why would any of these people like him? No, Harry ought to stay at home in his cupboard instead. His stomach ached a little and he suddenly felt like throwing up.

Uncle Vernon dropped them off before driving to work. Aunt Petunia would follow Dudley all the way to the classroom and stay with him for the first hour or so. Dudley held onto his mother’s hand as they made their way towards the classroom, apparently growing a bit uncertain at seeing all of the other children. Then he spotted Piers.

“Piers!” he shouted, waving to the other boy. “Piers, over here!”

Piers came running, his mother following a little behind.

“Dudley! Thought you’d be late!”

“Mom was crying!”

Harry backed away a little, in case the two boys would decide they wanted start the day off by hunting Harry around the school. Luckily the school bell rang just then and they all hurried towards the classroom.

Much to Harry’s surprise the day passed by with relative ease. By the time his aunt left most of the fear was gone and Harry was eagerly looking forward to school. Ms. Summers, the teacher, seemed very nice and so did the other children in his class. There were a lot of children of course, almost thirty, but most were looking nervous like Harry and smiling shyly. Perhaps things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

At recess Harry became nervous again, but another boy approached him and wondered if Harry wanted to play on the swings with him. Harry was happy, until Dudley and Piers came and chased them away. Dudley even pushed Harry away so roughly that he fell into some bushes and tore his new trousers. The tear was not very big but Harry knew that his aunt would be furious when she noticed.

By the end of the day aunt Petunia was waiting outside to walk them home. Harry was grateful, even if his aunt hadn’t so much as smiled at him. Secretly he had been a little afraid that they wouldn’t bother to pick him up after school. It was stupid of course, as Dudley was in the same class as Harry, but they never had made much of a secret of how much they disliked Harry.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

As it turned out, Harry’s fear of the other kids disliking him was unfounded. During the following weeks he began to befriend several of his classmates, even as he was shy and hesitant to approach the other children for play.

No, the real problem was Dudley. For five years Dudley had been the centre of the universe, as far as his parents were concerned. Everything Dudley wanted he got, without fail. Sometimes it took some time but in the end he always got what he wanted. And he never had to share with anyone.

Harry on the other hand rarely got anything, and whenever he got something it was probably Dudley’s hand me downs when Dudley had gotten new and better things. To Dudley, this were how things were supposed to be. His freaky cousin were not supposed to get anything that Dudley wanted or didn’t have.

So when Harry slowly started to befriend new children Dudley didn’t like it.

Being the biggest and strongest boy in class Dudley had initially been the target of some mean comments. However being the biggest and strongest had its advantages too and Dudley had soon made a reputation for himself as someone not to be messed with. Vernon Dursley was terribly proud of this, of course, even as they got several calls from the school about Dudley’s unruly behaviour.

“Youthful energy,” aunt Petunia called it

“Boy’s will be boys,” uncle Vernon agreed.

They both agreed that it was the school that was at fault, for not being able to understand that their Dudders needed an outlet for his energy. Their son was shaping up to be a leader, and the school was complaining about it!

Harry had started out shy and not very outspoken, but as the days and weeks wore on he became braver and more comfortable in his new surroundings. It was not unusual for him to spend recess alone, simply forgotten by his classmates, but neither was it unusual for one of them to spot him sitting on his own and come ask him to join them in some game. This was what Dudley found unnatural and wrong; that the freak would have friends to play with.  So he set about correcting that.

If Harry were playing on the swings Dudley would come there and chase him and the other children away, so that he and his little gang of boys could play there instead. When Harry and some other children were playing ball Dudley and his gang would come steal the ball and then refuse to give it back.

Harry accepted all this, because he was used to Dudley ruining any fun Harry had. It was still nice to have friends that wanted to play with him, even if their playing kept being interrupted. The best thing was that not everyone was frightened enough to stop wanting to play with him either.

At least, that was the case until one day in mid-October.

Harry and a few other children were playing on the climbing frame. There was a slide too, which Harry particularly enjoyed. He almost felt like he was flying whenever he went down it.

“Move! This is ours now!” Dudley suddenly said, interrupting their playing.

Behind him stood the group of boys that had become Dudley’s friends; Piers, Dennis, Gordon and Malcom. They were all either strong or big, or a combination thereof, which was enough reason to obey their command, as far as Harry was concerned. However, apparently one of the other boys did not agree.

“It’s a climbing frame,” a boy named Philip argued back. “It’s for everyone, you can’t say it’s yours!”

Harry stopped mid-step, having already begun to move away.

“Can too!” Piers was quick to reply.

“Yeah, I just did,” Dudley added.

“But it’s not fair!” another boy stated.

“Yeah, I’m going to tell the teacher!” Philip said.

Harry, having lived with Dudley for the past four years, knew immediately that it was a mistake to threaten Dudley.

“Oh yeah?” Dudley asked, stepping up to the smaller boy. “You going to tell on me? Like a little mama’s boy?”

With that he shoved the other boy backwards. Philip stumbled and fell on his back, to the laughter of Dudley and his friends.

“Go!” Malcom ordered. “We are playing here now!”

“You can’t do that!” Philip objected, getting up and facing Dudley again.

Privately Harry thought Philip must be crazy, though he was also a little impressed by the other boy’s courage. Harry rarely stood up to Dudley, and only when he thought he might get away with it, which was even rarer.

“Can too!” Dudley objected loudly, raising his hands as if to push the other boy again.

“No you can’t!”

“Can too!”

With that Dudley, again, pushed the smaller boy. This time Philip fell and hit his head on the ground. Even so Dudley looked like he might move to kick the other boy too. Harry couldn’t help what he did next.

“Stop it!” he shouted, getting between Dudley and Philip.

“You stop it freak!” Dudley immediately replied, pushing Harry too.

Harry stumbled backwards and fell over Philip.

“What is going on here?”

Abruptly Dudley stepped away as Ms. Summers came up to them, not looking very pleased with what she had seen.

“Dudley’s being mean!” Philip immediately told their teacher. “He’s not letting us play at the climbing frame.”

“No I wasn’t!” Dudley defended himself. “We were just playing. Right guys?”

Malcolm, Dennis, Piers and Gordon immediately agreed, nodding innocently.

“Right Harry?” Piers added.

His breath caught in his throat as he was suddenly the target of both Dudley’s and Piers’ glares. Their eyes promised revenge later if he did not agree with them. But Philip was looking at him too, clearly expecting him to tell the truth about what had happened. And Harry had never had friends before.

“No,” he whispered. “We were playing, until Dudley and the others came and pushed Philip.”

Ms. Summers scolded Dudley and his friends, telling them that they had to share and be nice on the playground, before she took Harry and Philip to the nurse.  Philip got a patch for the bump in his head. Harry had gotten a few bruises on his arms when he fell but nothing serious, so the nurse just sent him away with an admonishment to be careful the next time.

All in all it might not have been so bad, had Dudley not told his parents. Aunt Petunia was furious with Harry and sent him straight to his cupboard when they got home. That in itself might have been just as well, because that meant Dudley couldn’t get to him either. The worst part came when uncle Vernon came home and found out about what had happened.

As punishment for what he had done Harry was not given any dinner for the rest of the week and had to help out at the house, doing chores.

The next day at school Dudley and his friends spent recess hunting Harry. When they finally caught him they proceeded to drag him into the bathroom and dip his head into the toilet. They thought it was immensely fun and appropriate for having told on them the previous day.

What was perhaps worse though was that they started going after the other children too, whenever they played with Harry. Dudley got in some trouble of course, for bullying his classmates, but in the end he got what he wanted. No one wanted to play with Harry any longer. Why bother, when doing so meant subjecting themselves to name-calling, being pushed around or even get their head dipped in the toilet?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Amanda Summers sighed as she stopped in front the seat that belonged to Harry Potter. The boy, always a shy one, had grown increasingly quiet the past few months. She knew of course of the bullying, and she had tried to talk to his guardians about it but they kept waving it all away.

“Your homework, Harry?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t have it. Sorry.”

Always the “sorry”. It sounded sincere enough but this was the fifth time the boy had not turned in his homework. Something was wrong. She could feel it, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Was he simply lazy and didn’t care to do the work? Or was there something else going on, which she did not see?

“Stay after class, please,” she told him.

After he had nodded his understanding she moved on, collecting the remaining sheets of homework. She noticed, as the class continued, that the boy fidgeted nervously in his chair. His cousin was more unruly than usual too, hardly focusing at the work at all. Perhaps the two were somehow connected? If so, she would have to have another talk with the Dursleys about their nephew.

“Harry,” she called him up to her desk when class ended and the other students hurried out to their awaiting parents.

Quietly he came to stand before her, looking so entirely miserable that she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Sit down,” she said, bringing a chair out for him to sit on. “How are you, Harry?”

The boy merely shrugged. Amanda remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Fine,” he mumbled at last.

“Do you like school?” she asked then, when he did not say anything else.

“Yeah, ‘course I do.” The reply was quick and honest.

“Then why don’t you turn in our homework?”

This time she just got a shrug. She supressed a sigh and decided to change her approach a little.

“Is it too hard for you? The work, I mean? Do you need more help with it?”

“No,” Harry shook his head.

“Do you have somewhere at home where you can sit down in peace and quiet and just focus on your homework? Does your aunt and uncle help you when you need it?”

A shrug. Not a yes and not a no. Amanda hummed to herself, thinking. Something didn’t feel right about this boy. She knew of course that his parents were dead and that he lived with his aunt and uncle, but there was something more to it than that. And she was starting to get a bad feeling in her chest, an unfounded and hard-to-identify fear growing within her.

“How are things at home, Harry?”

Yet another shrug. Harry refused to meet her eyes.

“Do your cousin bully you at home too?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Harry shook his head. He still didn’t meet her eyes though, and his posture suggested that it wasn’t entirely true.

“Do you want me to talk to your aunt and uncle? About your cousin?”

“No!” The reply was immediate and without hesitation. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong. I’m just not used to school yet, that’s all.”

She wasn’t convinced but she had no proof, not even any real idea of what was wrong exactly, so she chose to let it pass. This time.

“Alright. Do try and turn in your homework the next time though, ok?”

“I will.”

“Alright then. You may leave.”

“Thank you, Ms. Summers.”

Obviously relieved to be allowed to leave he went for his book bag. Amanda sighed to herself. It could just be as he said, that he still wasn’t used to school. For some children it took more time to settle into the new routine and surroundings than for others. Or it could be something else. For the time being she would just have to wait and watch.

Speaking of watching …

“Harry?” she called out, just as he was about to leave the room.

“Yes, Ms. Summers?” the boy turned around in the door, looking questioningly at his teacher.

“Did you hurt your foot?”

“What? No, Ms. Summers. I didn’t.”

Amanda stood, looking closer on the once again nervous boy. She was certain she had seen him limp. Nothing very obvious, but still.

“Take a few steps forward for me, will you?” she asked him.

He looked like he wanted to say no but hesitated instead, before finally taking a few steps back into the room. Indeed there was a slight limp to his left foot.

“You did hurt your foot!” she exclaimed.

“’s not so bad,” he objected.

“Have you been to a doctor?” she wondered. “Or the school nurse?”

The boy shook his head, lowering his gaze.

“I’m not angry with you Harry,” she exclaimed gently. “Just worried.”

Before she let him leave that day she brought him to the nurse’s office. After a quick examination the ankle turned out to be lightly sprained. The nurse wrapped it up in an elastic wrap and cautioned the boy to take it easy for a couple of days, until the pain was gone.

All in all it was nothing exceptional, nothing that clearly stood out with Harry Potter. Amanda had seen children struggle to get accustomed to school, especially when they were being bullied, and little boys did tend to get small injuries every once in a while. Even so she kept a careful eye on the little boy from then on.

Which was why she noticed that he sometimes came to school with bruises on his arms or his legs; bruises that may or may not be from roughhousing with his playmates, if he had any, or just bumping into something. When asked about it Harry always had an excuse; he fell, he bumped into something, he was tired and clumsy in the mornings so he often had little accidents and he tended to bruise easily. All plausible explanations.

Even so, she wrote down the dates every time she noticed a new bruise hiding underneath the school uniform, and the given excuse too. In case it was something more. Her list continued to grow with worrying speed.

Strangely enough it was not until after she had noticed the bruises that she started noticing other things too. Like how Dudley Dursley always wore the simple, black shoes recommended by the school, while Harry wore far more worn trainers. Or how Harry’s uniform quickly started looking more worn than Dudley’s. The bad feeling in her stomach grew as she noticed these things.

Then there were the lunches. How she had not noticed immediately was something she would never figure out, but when she did notice the bad feeling in her stomach grew into a big, heavy lump. Dudley had a lunchbox with pictures of superheroes on it, and it always contained plenty of food and snacks. Harry’s on the other hand was plain white and always contained a single sandwich. No snacks, no fruits, not even anything to drink. Harry would usually have a cup of water from the tap with his sandwich.

Then came the event that finally convinced her that something was definitely wrong in the Dursley household and she had better alert the authorities.

By then it was almost December and she was once again gathering in the homework. She came to a halt in front of Harry’s desk, noticing that he was not meeting her eyes.

“Harry?” she asked. “Do you have your homework?”

“No Ms. Summers. I’m sorry.”

She sighed. She had lost count of how many times this had happened. And whenever he did turn his homework in it was not very good, looking like it had been done in a haste or without really understanding anything.

“Alright then. Maybe next week.”

She moved on, collecting homework sheets, until she reached Dudley Dursley’s seat. The boy was smiling widely and looking very pleased with himself.

“Your homework, Dudley?”

“Here.”

She glanced down on the paper he handed her. It didn’t take her many seconds to recognise the wobbly, uncertain hand writing.

“Is this yours, Dudley?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, beaming with pride.

“You did this all by yourself?” she clarified.

“Yeah, ‘course I did!”

It was time she had a talk with Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Amanda decided.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“I’m so glad you could come, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,” Amanda greeted the couple with a smile, shaking their hands.

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Dursley replied, looking like he would rather be at work than at his son’s and nephew’s school at the moment.

“What did you want to talk to us about?” Mrs. Dursley inquired.

“Please do sit down.”

Mrs. Dursley gracefully sank down in one of the small student chairs, while her husband eyed his chair suspiciously and then went to get a full-sized one. Once they both were seated Amanda finally started speaking, a smile plastered to her face.

“You have two very promising boys,” she began.

Seeing their facial expressions change was almost comical had the situation not been so serious, she thought to herself. First there were pride, of course, before the expressions changed to weariness and then horror before melting into polite, guarded smiles.

“We are very proud of our Dudley,” Mrs. Dursley agreed. “And Harry too, of course, even if he isn’t really ours.”

“You should be proud of them,” Amanda agreed. “And I think it is safe to call Harry yours too, considering how long he has been living with you. He came to you after his parents died when he was just one, if I’m not mistaken?”

Both Dursleys looked like they had just tasted a lemon but were trying to hide it.

“Yes. They died in a car crash; were driving while drunk,” Mr. Dursley said.

“So Harry is basically your son too then,” Amanda smiled, pretending not to notice how bothered the assumption made them both look. “Which makes me wonder, how do they get along at home?”

The Dursleys glanced at each other before Petunia Dursley took the lead, smiling innocently.

“Well, they roughhouse and have fights like all boys of course, but I’d say they get along just fine.”

A lie, judging from what Amanda had seen of the boys at school.

“I see. Do they help each other out with homework and such?”

Mrs. Dursley hesitated briefly while her husband looked like he wanted to make some scathing remark.

“Well, sometimes. Though I have to say that Harry never does appear very interested in doing his homework. I try to encourage him of course but he can be very challenging sometimes, you know.”

Excuses. Even an attempt at blaming Harry. Amanda supressed a sigh. How had she not seen all of this before?

“Why do you ask?” Mr. Dursley wanted to know.

“Because Harry has often failed to turn in his homework; last time was just earlier this week. And Dudley tried to turn this in as his homework.”

Amanda placed Dudley’s latest homework on the table on front of them. The Dursley’s eyed it questioningly.

“What’s is the problem?” Mrs. Dursley asked.

“Looks perfectly fine if you ask me,” Mr. Dursley added.

“Oh, it’s nothing particularly especial about the homework in itself. Just that it’s written in Harry’s handwriting, not Dudley’s.”

Once again the Durseys glanced at each other.

“Well, as I said, sometimes they do their homework together,” Mrs. Dursley tried to explain. “And children that age, isn’t it hard to tell one boy’s hand writing from another one’s?”

No, it wasn’t. Dudley’s writing was large and sloppy, Harry’s was smaller and more focused. Naturally both of them were still learning their letters and as such neither were very steady at their hands, but there was still a noticeable difference. Not to mention that the name at the top of the homework was clearly written in another hand than the rest of the homework, which would have made her suspicious even if she hadn’t recognized Harry’s writing.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,” Amanda said, putting on a serious face. “Your son tried to turn in Harry’s homework as his own. That’s cheating. Furthermore he often disturbs the class and bothers the other children at recess.”

“Youthful energy!” Mr. Dursley exclaimed. “Our Dudley has a lot of it, that’s all!”

“Dudders would never harm anyone!” Mrs. Dursley agreed.

Amanda could feel a headache building.

“He tried to cheat. This is first grade homework! Don’t you see how serious this is?”

“So he gets into some mischief once in a while, what’s wrong with that?” Mr. Dursley asked. “Boys will be boys, and all that.”

“What about Harry then, who probably worked hard on his homework?”

“It’s all bickering between the two, Dudley would never do anything to actually harm anyone,” Mrs. Dursley defended her son. “Harry, on the other hand, can be downright mean sometimes, I’ll tell you. Now just the other day he ruined my potted plants that I keep in the parlour! Just for the sake of it he did it!”

That afternoon, after she had said a polite but not very genuine goodbye to the Dursleys, Amanda Summers made a call to social services. The knot in her stomach had grown unbearably heavy and she wondered to herself why she had not told anyone about her suspicions earlier. Her heart ached when she thought about little Harry Potter, having to live with those people who was obviously delusional and neglecting him, if not to say abusing him.

The following morning Harry did not show up for school. Amanda asked Dudley about it, but he just claimed that his cousin was ill. Amanda then made a 999-call, fearing the worst.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry did not like having to stay home from school but he was nonetheless immensely grateful that he got to do just that. He didn’t think that he’d be able to sit down in class anyway, not after last night. Uncle Vernon had been so very, very angry at him after talking to Ms. Summers. It was the first time his uncle had used the belt on him.

Of course, that was not the primary reason that he got to stay at home. No, that would be the bruises in his face. When they came home from the meeting at school uncle Vernon had immediately slapped Harry across the side of his head. Harry had not been prepared and had fallen and hit his eye, thus the black eye he was sporting.

Before uncle Vernon had been able to do something more though aunt Petunia had hissed something about how “that awful woman” already suspected something. Harry wasn’t sure what that meant but apparently uncle Vernon did, because he removed the belt from his pants and proceeded to give Harry the worst beating he had ever had. On his back and tights, where they would be easy to hide beneath his trousers.

So once Dudley had left for school Harry laid face down on his cot in the cupboard. Aunt Petunia had locked him in while she followed Dudley to school and had not bothered to unlock the door when she got home again. Harry supposed he would have to ask her to eventually, when he needed to use the bathroom. For now he was just grateful to get some rest.

He thought it was sometime just before lunch when there was a knock on the door. Not his door, of course, but the front door of the house. Harry startled awake, having almost fallen asleep where he lay. He could hear his aunt pass by as she went to answer the door.

“Yes?” he could hear her say. “Is there something I could help you with?”

“Good day ma’am, we’re from the police, and this is Ms. Robson from social services, department of children’s welfare. May we come in for a bit?”

The police was at the door? Suddenly Harry definitely felt like throwing up. Had he been so bad the Dursleys had decided to have the police arrest him and throw him in jail, just like they had threatened to so many times before? He didn’t even know what he had done!

“Of course. Is there a problem?”

“We received a tip that a Harry Potter was not at school today and might not be faring well in this home.”

“That’s outrageous! Who said something like that?”

“That is not important right now. If you contact the station they’ll be happy to give you all information we have.”

“I have the right to know who’s making up such outrageous lies about me!”

Harry winced and quietly sat up on his knees. Aunt Petunia would not be happy about this. No doubt Harry would get blamed, once again, like he usually was.

“Yes you do,” the police-voice agreed. “If you contact the station they will be happy to help you out, as I don’t have all the information at hand.”

“I will! I won’t stand for people spreading lies about me!”

“That is understandable. Now, is the boy in question at home?”

Oh, no. Aunt Petunia had let him stay at home because she did not want others to see him like this. She would not be pleased at all if the police demanded to see him. Perhaps her anger would even warrant another spanking. Harry didn’t think he could take another one right now. The mere thought of it made him want to cry.

“He’s resting. Wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

“May we see him please?”

“No, you may not. As I said, he’s resting.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to insist, ma’am.”

Harry could almost feel his aunt’s anger, despite the door that separated him from the hallway where she and the unwelcome visitors were standing.

“Very well,” aunt Petunia finally said, her voice clipped and short in a way that meant she was very displeased but trying to control herself. “Please wait in the parlour while I wake him up.”

“Thank you ma’am, but we’re fine as we are. Please just bring the boy here, or bring us to him if he’s too weak to get out of bed.”

He could barely breathe for the tension in the air. Aunt Petunia was very, very, very displeased, which did not bode well for Harry later when the police had left. He fervently wished that he would just wake up and find that this was just a bad dream.

“Fine. He’s right here.”

With those words the lock was undone and the door to Harry’s cupboard was undone. His aunt gave him one look and he knew immediately that he had been wrong about his aunt’s mood. She was not just displeased, she was furious!

Slowly Harry stood up and got out, turning to face the visitors. There were two male constables in uniform and a woman in grey suit.

“Hello Harry,” the woman greeted him. “Why were you in the cupboard?”

“He likes it in there,” aunt Petunia immediately answered. “Thinks it’s cosy or something.”

“I see. Would you mind if I talked to Harry alone for a moment?”

“Yes I would! I’m his guardian!”

“If you don’t mind ma’am, we have some questions we’d like to ask as well. Perhaps in the kitchen?” one of the constables interjected.

Reluctantly aunt Petunia allowed herself to be led into the kitchen while Harry was taken by the hand and led into the parlour. The woman sat down with him on the sofa and smiled kindly at him. Harry could not help but wince as his but made contact with the sofa, never mind how soft it was.

“My name is Jane Robson. What’s yours?” she asked.

Harry thought this was a strange question as she had already referred to him by his name earlier. Then again, this whole situation was strange. Aunt Petunia was very angry and it didn’t seem like she was very happy about the police being there. Perhaps they weren’t there to arrest Harry.

“I’m Harry,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Harry!” she shook his hand, which felt strange but made Harry smile a little none the less.

“I work with social services, at the department for children’s welfare. Do you know what that mean?”

“No,” Harry admitted, shaking his head.

“Well, basically it’s my job to make sure that mummies and daddies treat their children nicely.”

“I don’t have a mom or dad,” Harry pointed out.

“Yes, so I heard. You live with your aunt and uncle, right?”

“Yeah.”

 “And are they nice to you?” Jane Robson wondered.

“Yeah,” Harry lied, well aware that his aunt was in the other room. He could even hear her raising her voice as she became more and more upset with the constables. 

“They never hit you or make you go to bed hungry or anything like that?” Ms. Robson continued. 

“No,” Harry shook his head.

“Are you sure? They never do things to you that you don’t like?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright. Would you mind telling me how you got those bruises?”

Not knowing what to say to that Harry just shrugged. He was pretty sure that he could not tell her the truth, or his aunt and uncle would be terribly angry with him. Harry didn’t want to make them even angrier than they were.

“How did you hurt your eye?”

“I fell.”

“Tell me about it, please.”

Since Harry didn’t know what his aunt and uncle wanted him to say he just shrugged, not planning on saying anything more. However Ms. Robson just remained silent, looking at Harry with kind, gentle eyes.

“I was running an’ I stumbled on the carpet,” he lied, at last.

“I see. Do you often stumble on the carpet?”

“Sometimes,” Harry shrugged again. “I’m clumsy.”

“Are you sure about that, Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry lied again, his voice growing smaller. He didn’t like lying.

From the kitchen he could hear aunt Petunia yelling at the constables. Words like “lies” and “ungrateful freak” were repeated several times.

“Harry,” Ms. Robson said. “Would you mind coming to the doctor with me?”

Even though it sounded like a question Harry got the feeling that it really wasn’t. Adults tended to make decisions anyway, without bothering to ask him.

“Ok,” Harry agreed, assuming that this was one of those times when he didn’t really have a choice.

Judging from how loud his aunt was getting anything would be better than staying at home, even if they did end up throwing him in jail afterwards. Besides, Ms. Robson didn’t look like she was going to let Harry go to jail.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“ … I got a call from social services in Surrey. They said they’d removed Harry from his aunt’s care and now they wondered if I was able to take him in,” Joseph Evans explained. “Turns out my daughter hadn’t taken very well care of him.”

He turned the tap off and reached for the brush, starting to clean the plates. Severus watched man’s back, noticing how stiff it was.

“A teacher had gotten suspicious about it all and alerted the authorities. By the time they came to see the boy he had been badly beaten. They took him to a doctor of course but there really wasn’t any doubt about it. They took him away the same day, and two days later he came to live with me. I couldn’t very well refuse, could I?”

The plates were done and put away to dry, so he moved on to the glasses and the cutlery they had used. A soft clinking sound filled the kitchen.

“Of course, I should have noticed that something was wrong. But with Daisy being ill all the time we didn’t really have the opportunity to visit Petunia and her husband. And they in turn were of course busy raising the boys. So I didn’t think very much about it. Not until I got that call.”

It was obvious that talking about it pained the old man, but Severus thought he might also detect a tone of relief at being able to talk to someone about it.

“Of course, now afterwards there are a thousand little things that I have thought of that should have stood out to me then. But I never would have believed that my little girl could do something like that.”

He sighed, letting the water out of the sink and drying his hands on a nearby towel before he turned to face Severus.

“I ask myself every day what I did wrong. I tried to be a fair father, I loved my daughters equally, but the situation was just so strange! Lily was a witch and Petunia wasn’t, and we had to see one of our little girls go off to boarding school to learn magic while the other remained here with us.”

He sat down at the table with Severus, looking old and tired like never before.

“I don’t think Petunia ever got over that. She wanted so badly to be a witch too. We tried to show her that we loved her just as much as we loved Lily but I don’t think she was ever quite convinced. And as a result she was never able to love or even care much for Harry.”

“I don’t think you ought to blame yourself for what happened,” Severus pointed out. “Petunia is an adult and made her own choices.”

Although she had not been very pleasant even as a child, from what little Severus had seen, she very well could have changed and become a better person as an adult. But instead she appeared to have focused on the bitterness of her childhood and let her frustrations go out over a young child.

Not quite unlike what Severus had done, he thought to himself. After the break up with Lily things had really started going wrong for him, although he hadn’t realised so at the time. No, he had chosen to dive headfirst into the unknown waters, longing to find a new purpose with his life. Instead it had led to Lily’s death and her son becoming an orphan.

“Perhaps not,” Joseph agreed, “but I can’t really help it either. I try to make up for it by taking care of Harry to the best of my abilities.”

Atonement, Severus thought to himself. That was something he thought he understood. When he found out exactly how wrong his decisions had led him he had turned to Dumbledore and done everything in his power to make things right again. It hadn’t been enough. Lily had still died. And here her father was, making atonement for a situation that was a consequence of Severus’ mistakes.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly.

“No problem.”

Perhaps it was that he was feeling sentimental, being in this place that had once seemed like heaven to him, or perhaps it had something to do with finding an unexpected connection between himself and Harry Potter, but before he knew it Severus found himself saying;

“If there is anything I can do, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Severus, but I expect you have enough to deal with at the moment anyway.”

“How so?”

“I heard about your father’s death and I assumed you were in town to take care of the house.”

Once again, Joseph had apparently read Severus like an open book. He wondered vaguely how the man did that. Not even Dumbledore could read him that easily, and he was one of the most powerful wizards alive.

“I know that your father was far from perfect, Severus, but I am sorry about your loss. He was your father after all.”

From anyone else Severus would have waved the words aside but coming from Joseph, who knew at least partially of what had been going on in the Snape household, the words held more meaning than that.

“Thank you,” Severus said, meaning it.

Soon thereafter he left the house, heading back towards his childhood home with his mind full of thoughts. 

There were many thoughts running through Severus’ mind as he thought back to his conversation with Joseph and the revelation that Harry Potter had been abused. What had gone wrong? How bad had it really been? How big was Severus’ own part in what had happened?

The main thought, however, was along the lines of How had Dumbledore allowed it to happen?! To which Severus had no answer, of course. Harry Potter was Dumbledore’s golden boy, wasn’t he? Famous throughout the magical world and destined to go through life without strife and have everything handed to him on a silver platter, simply because he had somehow survived when he should have died.

Yet, somehow he had ended up in a household with relatives that did not care for him, whilst one of the most powerful wizards alive insisted that he was safe and well. No matter how much he tried Severus could not get the two pictures to fit together.

Which was why he decided to visit the headmaster later that evening.

Dumbledore was a busy man, even during the summer when school was out, so Severus was not very surprised to find the man in his study. Dumbledore’s private study was far smaller than the office he used at Hogwarts, the walls lined with bookcases and shelves with knick-knacks. There was a desk and a few comfortable armchairs around a low table. The whole room went in reds and gold, which was perhaps not a very big surprise.

“Severus,” Dumbledore greeted him. “What a surprise to see you here. You haven’t come to ask me to appoint you the new Defence professor again, have you?” 

That was another matter which Severus wanted to discuss with the headmaster, even if it was not the matter which had brought him here. Severus shook his head and sat down in one of the armchairs opposite of the one Dumbledore was occupying.

“No. In fact, it is a completely different matter I have come to discuss with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Severus, of course not. Would you like some tea?”

There was already a tea pot on the table, on which Dumbledore simply cast a heating charm. Severus wondered how long that tea had been sitting there, and how many heating charms that had been applied to it.

“No thanks,” he replied.

“Suit yourself then, as always. Now, what is the matter you have come to discuss with me?”

How to begin? Severus had not thought things through fully before coming here, which was rather unusual for him. He had come to trust and even look up to Dumbledore, which made it that much harder to believe that the man really could have made such a considerable mistake. Mainly he just wanted an explanation.

“I wanted to speak to you about Potter.”

There, he’d said it.

“What about him?” Dumbledore wondered, sipping his tea, not looking concerned in the least.

“I happened to come across him, just yesterday. Do you know where he lives?”

“With his grandfather, if I’m not mistaken. Why?”

So Dumbledore was aware that the boy’s living arrangements had changed. Severus wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. There was something wrong here; something he didn’t understand.

“And before that he lived with his aunt and uncle,” Severus stated. “Are you aware what kind of guardians they were?”

“Of course I am. I did keep a spy nearby, you know. Just to make sure the boy was safe and sound.”

Again Dumbledore sipped at his tea and then reached for a biscuit.

“A spy?” Severus repeated, uncertain whether he had heard correctly.

“A spy, yes.”

“Might I ask whom this spy was?”

“Naturally. Arabella Figg.”

“The squib?”

“Yes, her exactly. Who better suited to keep an eye on the muggles than someone who lives among them anyway and yet has some knowledge of the magical world?”

While the argument was not completely without merit it obviously hadn’t been enough to prevent what had happened.

“She can’t do magic,” Severus pointed out. “And obviously she wasn’t a very good spy either, from what I’ve heard.”

“She’s so well suited for the task because she cannot do magic, Severus. And Arabella was a perfectly fine spy, I’ll tell you.”

“Obviously not if you are both unaware of what went on in that household! The boy was removed from his relatives because they were abusing him!”

The expected surprise did not show on Dumbledore’s face.

“Ah, you’ve heard of that, have you?” Dumbledore commented.

“Obviously! Though I’m surprised to find that you have!”

“Well, frankly I think that the muggle authorities were being overly sensitive. The boy was perfectly fine where he was, but since Lily’s father could take him in I guess it doesn’t really matter where he lives. The protective wards requires a blood relative of Lily’s, which one is of little importance.”

For a moment Severus was actually stunned, completely unable to come up with an answer. Was this Albus Dumbledore, talking about his golden boy, the hero of the magical Britain? Severus couldn’t believe it.

“Excuse me?” he finally managed to say. “Albus, those people were abusing him!”

“It’s just discipline, Severus. I certainly cannot understand how the muggles can make it a crime for parents to discipline their children as they see fit.”

“They were beating him!” Severus objected. “He had bruises when they removed him from there!”

“A spanking has never killed anyone, nor has some bruises. Mind you, when I was a boy it was not unusual for parents to be a lot harsher than that.”

Hearing this Severus had to take a deep breath, and then another one, and another one, to collect himself. Had the world gone mad? Had he gone mad, hearing things that weren’t real? Was Albus Dumbledore really condoning what the Potter-boy had been through? What Severus had been through as a child?

“So you have no objections to what they did?” Severus clarified.

“No. It is not my place to question their discipline.”

“And what does Arabella has to say in the matter?”

“She agrees with me. It’s a family matter Severus, surely you understand this?”

“No I do not! How could you condone the beating of a child?”

“Sometimes I wonder where the world is going,” Dumbledore muttered. “I certainly agree that it was time we change the old way of disciplining students here at Hogwarts, but discipline within the family is a completely different matter!”

“With all due respect, no it is not! An adult beating a child is barbaric!”

“Now you are being overly dramatic Severus. Parents know what is best for their children and no one should question that.”

“Parents who beat their children have lost sight of what is right and wrong,” Severus argued.

“For Merlin’s sake Severus, it was a round with the belt not a cruciatus curse!”

Despite his talent for hiding his thoughts Severus could feel the blood drain from his face. From what Joseph had told him Severus had assumed Potter had been beaten, which was bad enough, but using an implement was even worse. Suddenly he felt an enormous hatred towards Petunia Dursley and her unknown husband.

At any rate, this latest admission removed any doubt from his mind that the headmaster had been misinformed about what was going on. The man was obviously delusional – that or simply mad – but he had been aware of what happened to Harry Potter and had chosen not to intervene.

The realisation hurt. Severus had placed his trust in Dumbledore to keep Lily safe and the man had failed at doing so, then he had also failed to keep her son safe. Severus could only imagine what Lily would do had she known how her son had been treated. She’d cry for her boy and probably curse the headmaster blind, Supreme mugwump and chief Warlock of the Wizengamot or not

“Surely you can understand Severus? Children need discipline!”

“Discipline, yes! Not a belt to their arse!”

To that the headmaster merely sighed, clearly exasperated that Severus would not understand his point of view. Neither one said anything for a while, trying to get over their irritation.

“Will he be allowed to stay where he is now?” Severus asked at last.

“I don’t see why not. The protection Lily gave her son is dependent on him continuing to reside with a blood-relative of hers; whether it is her sister or her father is of little importance.”

Severus sighed. At least that was something. Not that it seemed Joseph would ever give up his grandson but Severus was certain that the headmaster would find a way to convince him if he wanted to.

“Good,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other things to do.”

“Just think about what I have said, Severus. I’m sure you’ll understand once you get some perspective on it.”

With a sound that might have been a “yes” but was probably closer to a very rude “no” Severus left Dumbledore’s home and apparated to his own. There he found himself too restless to go to sleep. Instead he paced in his living room, thinking about the conversation he had just had with Dumbledore and what had happened to Harry Potter.

What hurt the most was finding out that Dumbledore, whom Severus had come to look up to so much, held practically Victorian views of “discipline” on children. It was a particularly hard blow to take considering his own childhood. Severus had come to think that had he just put his pride aside and told someone, like Dumbledore, then things would have turned out better. It was a thought he had found some comfort in, strangely enough.

Yet now he had proof that Dumbledore likely would have done nothing even if he had known; would have condoned it even. To Severus that was like being told that he had deserved all of his father’s drunken rants and occasional beatings.

Perhaps even more worrying was imagining what could have happened had the muggle authorities not discovered what was going on in the Dursley household. With Dumbledore’s abhorrent attitude towards it Potter might very well have grown to despise his relatives and muggles in general, and by the time he came to Hogwarts they might have had a new Dark Lord in the making.

Severus would not deny that there were plenty of awful muggles, however there were good ones too, something he had forgotten for a while. That mistake of his had ended up costing Lily her life and Severus had, with the help of Dumbledore, done his best to atone for it ever since. His atonement may not be in the practical way Joseph was atoning for his perceived sins but atonement it was. Or so he had thought. The new revelations about Dumbledore made him question even that. What good had his attempts at atonement done anyway?

In the end his mind was too troubled for him to go to bed, so he decided to go back to cleaning out the house at Spinner’s End. What better way to get his mind off of things than by boring and disgusting work?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The entryway, the kitchen and the living room was cleaned out, as was most of his father’s old bedroom. Only his own childhood bedroom and the bathroom remained. Severus sighed tiredly to himself and took a look out the window. The sun had risen hours ago and he felt exhausted. Perhaps it would be a good idea to get a couple of hours of sleep?

Four eager knocks sounded on his door. Knock, knock, knock, knock!

“Mr. Snape!” a now almost familiar voice shouted. “Mr. Sna-ape! It’s me, Harry! And Gramps too!”

With a sigh he headed for the door. His head ached from too little sleep and he was in no mood to deal with an energetic little boy at the moment. He would just answer the door and ask them to leave him alone. That was it.

Except that as soon as he opened the door the little cretin attached itself to Severus’ waist in a tight hug, taking Severus completely by surprise.

“Mr. Snape!” he said happily.

Joseph chuckled at his grandson’s antics, and probably a bit at the rather horrified expression on Severus’ face as well.

“Good day Severus. Sorry to bother you but I had forgotten I had an important meeting today and I can’t bring Harry with me. He insisted we’d ask if he could stay with you a couple of hours.”

This was a nightmare. It had to be. What other reason was there that he was being asked to babysit the Boy Who Lived? Sure, Severus felt some pity for what the boy had gone through, which was mostly because Severus himself had suffered similar experiences, but he didn’t like the boy. Far from it! And how was he supposed to untangle the boy from his waist anyway?

“I can help you with your cleaning and everything, Mr. Snape,” the boy announced. “As thanks for helping me with Peanut.”

“I don’t think …” Severus began, but was quickly interrupted.

“It’s only for a couple of hours,” Joseph repeated. “And you did say that it was only to ask if I ever needed help with anything. But of course, if you have something else to do, then we’ll ask someone else.”

“But I want to be with Mr. Snape!” the boy objected. “Can I, can I, can I please! Pretty, pretty please?”

At last he managed to untangle the boy from his person but then Severus was faced with Lily’s green eyes looking up and him pleadingly. Severus glanced at Joseph but he was of no help, sporting the same eyes and serving as yet another reminder of exactly how much Severus owed this family. He sighed, feeling vaguely like he was going to his own execution.

“For how long?”

“Yay!” Potter shouted, jumping and clapping his hands like the idiot he was. A very noisy idiot at that.

“I’ll be back by three o’clock,” Joseph replied with a smile. “And Harry’s already had lunch, so there’s no need to worry about that or anything. Just keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Alright. Though I’ll have to ask that we do this at your house rather than mine.”

Severus glanced at the darks spots the puddles had left behind in the entryway and thought of the places he had yet to clean out. It was the perfect place for a small, curious boy to get in all kinds of trouble.

“You could go to the park,” Joseph suggested. “Or you could just come over to our house and babysit him there.”

“I’m almost six, so it’s not babysitting!”

Both adults ignored the child. Severus allowed himself to sigh tiredly.

“Your house it is,” he muttered.

“Great! Thank you so much Severus!”

They walked together back to the Evan’s house and had a quick cup of tea before Joseph had to go, leaving Severus alone with the boy. The unlikely couple watched Joseph leave, Harry waving and shouting enthusiastically until the man was out of their sight.

“What do you want to do?” the boy then finally asked, turning on Severus.

Sleep. Severus wanted to sleep. But just one look at the excited little boy told him that it wasn’t going to happen. So instead he asked in return;

“What do you normally do at this time of the day?”

Potter pouted a little, appearing to be thinking.

“Playing in the back yard?”

“Then let’s venture into the back yard,” Severus suggested, gesturing that Potter lead the way.

And so the afternoon of babysitting Harry Potter began. To Severus’ annoyance the boy insisted on trying to involve Severus in his childish games.

“Do you want to be the blue car?” he asked, when playing with a couple of plastic cars on the ground.

“No,” was Severus simple reply.

The boy bit his lip, hesitantly.

“The red one?” he finally asked.

“No.”

For some reason that seemed to make the boy relieved and he happily played on his own with the cars for a while. Severus wondered to himself why the boy would offer him to “be” the red car if he did not want him to. In the end he shrugged it off. The boy was an idiot, like his father, what else could he expect?

“Do you want to play hide and seek?” Potter asked next.

“No.”

“Tag?”

“No.”

“Simon says?”

“No.”

“Kick the can?”

“No.”

“Red light, green light?”

“No.”

“Marbles?”

“Why don’t you play with those yourself?”

And, much to Severus’ surprise, the boy did.

It was strange, sitting on the porch where he and Lily had often sat, watching her son play in the grass. The sun shone from an almost cloudless sky and a warm summer breeze swept through the air. It reminded him of other summer days like this one.

Like the summer when they were nine, when Severus had first noticed that one of the girls playing in the park was a witch. Other children had never been interested in playing with Severus, and so Severus had on principle never been interested in playing with them either, but he had been drawn towards the red haired girl who would jump off of her swing and fly far longer than what was possible for a muggle.

She had been his first real friend. He could still remember long days spent playing in the park, or lying in the grass, talking about magic and Hogwarts or any other topic that crossed their minds. At first he had hated it when she had to go home for lunch, as that meant that she’d leave him alone for a while. But then she’d somehow managed to convince him to join her, perhaps suspecting that Severus was not going home to get his own lunch. The first few times he had met Joseph and Daisy Evans he had secretly been terrified. They were better off than his own parents, their house was bigger, more beautiful, and lighter and over all they just seemed like better people than him and his family. However, they had quickly taken a liking to him, for whatever reason, and after that he had been a frequent visitor in their house.

The summer when they were ten, before they were going to Hogwarts, they had borrowed a tent from Joseph and gone camping in the back yard of the Evans’ house. Lily’s mother had made a whole box of sandwiches for them to “bring” for their adventure, along with plenty of biscuits and cupcakes. Joseph had surprised them by helping them start a small fire, over which they grilled marshmallows. They had stayed up late that night, watching the stars fantasising about all of the adventures they were going to experience together.

When they were eleven, and had returned home after a year at Hogwarts, they had spent many days on a blanket outside in the sun, books and parchment strewn around them as they worked on their summer homework together. They’d gossip about Hogwarts, their teachers and their housemates, think of things they would have to try the next year and fantasise of what they would do when they grew up. Often Daisy would provide them with biscuits or other sweets to snack on while they worked. Then, when they had grown bored of studying and talking, they’d play, pretending to be aurors in search of dark wizards or dragon breeders hunting for an escaped dragon.  

At 12 Lily had decided they had to build a tree house. Joseph had agreed to get them all the material they needed, and then leaned back on the porch to watch the children work. They had quickly discovered that building a tree house was easier said than done, especially as neither of them were used to holding a hammer. After Lily had fallen out of the tree two times, Severus four, and they respectively had hit their fingers with the hammer five times, Joseph had finally relented and helped them build the tree house. They had spent hours playing in that tree house, and even though they had to share it with Petunia it was still one of the happiest memories that Severus had of his childhood.

The tree house was still there, up in the tree, Severus could see. However the rope ladder they had used was gone and the lower branches had been removed, probably wise precautions to take with the Potter boy playing in the yard.

When Severus was thirteen he had stolen a pack of cigarettes from the local shop owner and brought them to Lily, trying to impress her. They’d hidden in the tree house and shared a smoke; coughing and laughing. Lily’s mother Daisy had found them like that and proceeded to scold them both seriously before forcing them to apologize to the shop owner from which Severus had stolen the cigarettes. Joseph had taken Severus aside later and talked to him at length about stealing, smoking and why one shouldn’t do such things. To this day Severus would insist that he had just gotten dust in his eyes.

By fourteen their friendship had started to change. Severus was secretly very much in love with his friend but afraid of admitting so, still harvesting insecurities about her and her family being better than him. Meanwhile Lily had started to realise just how interested Severus were in subjects which she did not condone, such as the dark arts, curses and hexes. She would often try to convince him to stop reading about such subjects, which Severus would firmly refuse. The matter of their different houses were also becoming more and more apparent. Lily disliked the boys Severus had befriended in Slytherin and Severus disliked many of her friends in Gryffindor.

Still, they had spent almost every day together then too. Sometimes they had argued but they had always managed to get past those things, considering all the years of friendships they had behind them. As far as Severus was concerned that was the last good summer he had had. The year after the split between Lily and him had happened, and although Severus had tried to bury himself in the dark arts and his fascination with the Death Eaters he now deeply regretted the years that followed.

“Look what I found!”

His musings were interrupted by a childish voice and suddenly a pair of hands were thrust in his face, covered in spiders and other insects. Severus reacted instinctively, slapping the hands away from him.

“What do you think you are doing!” he roared, jumping to his feet.

Potter backed away a few steps, taken by surprise by Severus angry tone and his sudden standing up. Severus only noticed vaguely, too occupied by the fact that a few of the spiders had fallen onto him and were currently crawling around on his person. Disgusted he tried to swipe them away, stomping his feet in an effort to kill them once they hit the ground.

“Freaky, disgusting, little …” he swore to himself.

They wouldn’t come off! Despite his best effort to swipe them off of him they still clung to his clothes like the eight-legged little monsters they were! He felt a shiver run down his spine and resisted the urge to whine like a little girl. Severus’ fear of spiders were one of his closest kept secrets, a result of his father once locking him into a dusty old closet, but he would not allow himself to completely lose his face over it!

Finally the last spider came off, although Severus swore he could still feel them crawling all over him. Forcing himself not to continue swiping his clothes for spiders that were already gone and dead he instead looked towards where the boy had last been. He wasn’t there. Looking around the back yard Severus quickly realised that the boy was nowhere there either.

“Potter?” he called, uncertain of where the boy had disappeared to.

No answer came.

“Potter!” he called again, louder this time.

Still no answer. Severus sighed to himself, annoyed.

“This is no game Potter! Get out here this instant!”

He waited a few moments but no boy appeared. With a few deep breaths to calm his frayed nerves Severus started looking through the back yard, trying to find the boy. He couldn’t have gotten very far. Most likely he was hiding somewhere nearby, probably laughing his little behind off at the entertainment Severus had unwittingly provided. ‘

Annoyance rising steadily as he continued to fail at finding Potter, Severus nevertheless continued to search. Potter was not in the back yard, so Severus moved on to the front yard and then into the house itself, hoping that the little cretin had not been foolish enough to run off on his own while Severus was distracted. Though come to think of it, that was probably something James Potter would have done. Suddenly he could feel a headache coming.

He would not be searching through the entirety of Cokeworth for Potter’s offspring!

“POTTER!” he shouted, hearing his voice echoing in the house. “Come here this instant!”

He was sure there were students at Hogwarts that would have peed themselves with anxiety at his tone and immediately scrambled to obey him. Yet the Potter-boy lived up to his ancestry and remained hidden wherever he was.

Joseph would be home in about half an hour, Severus realised after a glance at the clock. It seemed the boy was determined to stay hidden until then, which would no doubt be embarrassing for Severus. Was this why the boy had insisted that Severus act the part of his babysitter?

Sighing to himself he moved around the bottom floor in search for the boy, looking behind the couch, moving curtains aside, opening cupboards and so on. No Potter. Upstairs it was then. Either that or the boy had left the premises entirely. Severus certainly didn’t hope for the last.

Upstairs he hesitated, almost frightened by how little it had changed since he was a child. By habit he moved at first to the bedroom furthest down the corridor to the right, which had once been Lily’s. Upon opening the door he quickly realised that the room now belonged to her son. It was surprisingly neat, with only a few toys strewn around. Severus quickly checked the wardrobe, finding it neat but without a boy hiding in it, and then beneath the bed. No boy there either.

It felt wrong to then move on to the other bedrooms; those who had once belonged to Lily’s parents and her sister. Potter was in neither of them. The last room to check was the small office, which had very few hiding places.

What now? Severus thought to himself as he stood above the stairs. He had searched both the front and back yard as well as every room of the house, yet no Harry Potter. Where had he gone? Should he move on to searching elsewhere, like the park? Yet, a search like that was likely futile as he had no idea of where the boy would go. Joseph would probably have some idea of where he might hide, but that would also mean that Severus would have to admit his failure to the elder man.

As if summoned by Severus’ thoughts the front door opened right then to reveal Joseph.

“I’m home!” he called.

Silently Severus sighed to himself before making his way downstairs. His were the only steps moving towards Joseph.

“Severus!” Joseph greeted him. “Where’s Harry?”

“He’s hiding,” Severus admitted with a shrug.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He won’t come when I call and I can’t find him, even though I’ve searched the house for him.”

Joseph wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

“Harry?” he called. “Harry, I’m home! Come to your gramps!”

They waited in silence for a minute to see if the boy would come. He didn’t and finally Joseph turned to Severus again.

“What happened?” he wondered.

“He showed a handful of spiders at me and then disappeared while I was busy trying to rid myself of them.”

“Did you yell at him?” Joseph asked, giving Severus a strange look.

Severus hesitated briefly, not quite recognizing the look but intuitively knowing that it wasn’t necessary a good one.

“A little,” he admitted. “Though I did not have the chance to say more than a few words before he had disappeared.”

“Well, that explains it then,” Joseph muttered, before continuing in a clearer voice; “Thank you Severus. I’ll take care of this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I think I know where he might be hiding.”

Feeling strangely ill at ease Severus nodded and said farewell before he left the house, heading towards Spinner’s End. There was an uncomfortable emotion running through him; one that he could not quite name. He almost felt like he should apologise to Joseph, though on the other hand he wanted to defend himself and explain that it was not his fault things had gone the way they had.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Joseph sighed as the door closed behind Severus and then turned to face the stairs in the hallway. This was not how he had hoped the day would turn out. Perhaps he should have a talk with Severus. That would have to wait though. For now he had something more important to deal with.

“Harry?” he called again, not so loud. “Severus is gone now. You can come out. I’m not angry with you.”

His voice was as calm and reassuring as he could make it. He waited patiently, letting the minutes pass, and finally his patience was rewarded. The door to the cupboard under the stairs slowly swung open with a quiet squeak. No grandson stepped out though, so Joseph chose to take it as an invitation to come closer.

“You alright?” he asked as he reached the door, peering into the dark cupboard.

From behind a few boxes of god knew what he could hear a slight rustling, telling him where his grandson was.

“I cannot see you in this darkness,” Joseph reminded him. “Please answer verbally. Or come out of there.”

Some more rustling was heard and then finally a weak, hesitant; “I’m fine.”

“Did Severus frighten you?” Joseph asked kindly.

A pause, in which he was quite sure that his grandson nodded before remembering the request to answer verbally.

“Yeah.”

“I see. Did he say anything?”

Another pause.

“He yelled at me. Said I was freaky and d-disgusting. An’ then he was waving around and stamping his feet a whole lot.”

“So you thought it was best to get away and hide in here before he could get to you?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“I see,” Joseph repeated, lowering himself to his knees with some effort, wincing a little as a spike of pain went through his bad knee.

“I didn’t mean to be bad,” the boy said.

“I know you didn’t, Harry, and I’m not angry with you. I promise. And Severus wasn’t really angry with you either, I don’t think.”

“But he shouted at me, and called me things.”

“Maybe so, but I think Severus was just startled. Did you know that he’s afraid of spiders?”

“No.”

“Well, he is. He has been since he was just a little older than you are now. So I think he was just frightened by the spiders and said those things because he was really afraid.”

“You think?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“But spiders aren’t scary.”

“Severus thinks they are.”

“But he’s an adult!”

“Even adults get scared sometimes, you know.”

“They do?”

“Of course. Some are just better at hiding it than others.”

It was silent for a few moments, while the boy seemed to ponder this.

“You know, I think Severus was a bit scared afterwards too, when he couldn’t find you,” Joseph confided. “He probably thought you had run away and was really worried about what could happen to you. I bet he searched the whole house after you.”

“He did.”

“There you have it.”

“He sounded really angry.”

“Sometimes people sound angry when really they are just worried.”

“Oh.”

After another minute there was some rustling and then the little boy was clinging to Joseph, arms wrapped around his neck. Joseph hugged him back, feeling the little body tremble against his chest. Not for the first time he wondered what he had done wrong in order to make his eldest daughter heartless enough to treat her nephew the way she had.

“There, there,” he muttered, trying to comfort his grandson.

Like usual Harry bravely fought the tears, even though Joseph could feel him tremble with the need to cry. A small part of him cried too, seeing the little boy so desperately trying to be brave even as he sought comfort in Joseph’s arms. At least he did seek comfort. That had not been the case when Harry first came to live with him, as he had apparently been so used to being denied comfort from others that he had stopped seeking it entirely.

“Do you want some biscuits?” Joseph finally asked, once he could feel that the boy had calmed down a bit.

“With chocolate?”

“Of course!”

“Then yes.”

With a slightly more chipper Harry in hand Joseph headed for the kitchen, preparing some tea and bringing out the bisquits that Harry liked so much. Perhaps he would talk to Severus later.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Riiinng! Riiinng!

A loud, insistent noise woke him up. Groggily Severus sat up and looked around, trying to figure out where he was and what was happening.

He must somehow have fallen asleep on the couch, he realised, noticing that he had been spread across the old couch at Spinner’s End. Wrinkling his nose in disgust he got up. Clearly he had gone too long without sleeping and was losing his mind as a result of it.

Riiinng!

The noise continued and Severus finally realised that it was coming from the old phone, standing in one corner. Huh, he hadn’t even thought that was working. A bloody miracle that it hadn’t been disconnected due to his father leaving the bills unpaid.

Riiinng!

Awkwardly Severus lifted the receiver, moving it to his ear as he remembered doing as a child.

“Hello?” he could hear a voice.

“Mr. Evans?”

“Severus! I wasn’t sure this old number would still work! So happy it did!”

To that Severus really did not have a reply and he did not think one was needed anyway. Joseph continued.

“I just thought I’d tell you that Harry’s perfectly fine.”

“You found him?” Severus asked, remembering the failed babysitting earlier in the afternoon.

“Yes, yes I did. Do you mind coming over for a bit, so we can discuss it?”

Severus cast a quick glance at the clock. It was half past eight. He should get back to his rooms at Hogwarts and get some sleep.

“Severus?”

“Only a few minutes,” he muttered into the receiver and hung up.

Groaning to himself he stretched and took a quick trip to the bathroom, straightening out his clothes in the process, before he left the house. The brisk walk in the warm summer air helped clear his mind and when he reached the Evan’s house a few minutes later he was fully awake and alert.

Joseph opened the door for him shortly after he had knocked, letting him in and leading him into the living room where tea and biscuits had been set out.

“Thank you for coming Severus. I’ll try not to keep you too long.”

Never having been one to utter any false niceties Severus chose not to answer. Instead he made himself a cup of tea, allowing himself an extra spoonful of sugar.

“You found the boy,” he stated, sipping his tea.

“Yes. He was hiding in the cupboard beneath the stairs.”

“I checked there.”

“I’m sure you did. He was behind a couple of boxes and surely not easily spotted.”

Severus was not sure he liked the thought of Harry Potter being able to hide from him so easily. Especially as this meant that the boy had been in the house and therefore also must have heard Severus calling for him.

“I trust you dealt with him appropriately?” he asked.

“I comforted him and made him tea, yes.”

“Did you punish the boy?”

“No, I saw no need to.”

Sighing Severus briefly closed his eyes. He respected Joseph, he really did, but he had never thought that the man would allow himself to be dictated by a young child. At this pace Potter would be a nightmare by the time he began Hogwarts.

“You are too soft on the boy,” he stated, sipping his tea. “He was being difficult and refused to come out, even though I called on him several times. He should be disciplined.”

“And what do you suggest I do, Severus? Spank the poor boy? Send him to bed without dinner?”

Abruptly Severus lost his appetite and he put his tea down. No, perhaps those were not appropriate ways of dealing with the boy. But it was clear that James Potter’s heritage ran strong in the boy and that needed to be dealt with, regardless of the boy’s background.

“He needs boundaries,” Severus defended himself. “Without those he’ll run wild.”

“I know that Severus, and I’ll be the first to admit that I am sometimes a bit too lenient with him. However this time he was really just acting out of fear.”

“Fear?”

What was there for the boy to be afraid of? Severus didn’t understand it.

“Yes. I know you don’t like spiders Severus, but your reaction to them frightened Harry. He thought you were angry with him and thought it best to hide before you decided to take your anger out on him.”

Feeling vaguely ill Severus pushed the tea further away. He hadn’t considered that the boy might actually be frightened of him. The obvious resemblance to James Potter and the happy, childish behaviour made it easy to ignore the fact that the boy likely had invisible wounds that had yet to be healed. That, in combination with the unsettling spider attack, had been enough for Severus to cling onto his anger rather than the strange compassion he had felt for the boy earlier.

“I don’t know for sure exactly what he has been through,” Joseph admitted. “And Harry is a wonderfully happy and trusting boy. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he might have reason to distrust adults.”

“I’m sorry,” Severus said, his voice low. “I did not consider that possibility.”

“I don’t think it is me you should be apologising to, Severus. Though I don’t think Harry will hold it against you either. He can be surprisingly fragile sometimes but he also has an enormous ability to forgive and see the best in people. In that respect he’s rather like his mother.”

Again Severus closed his eyes. Like his mother. Why was it that Severus almost exclusively saw the father in the child? One look at the dark hair or that cheeky smile and Severus was reminded of all of his encounters with James Potter. Yet the child was also Lily’s. He had her eyes, and according to Joseph also some of the best traits of her personality. Why hadn’t Severus seen that?

“Whenever I look at him I tend to remember his father,” Severus admitted quietly.

Joseph did not reply immediately. He knew some of the rivalry that had been going on between James Potter and Severus, though Severus had never shared very much with the man. Yet this admission would shed some light onto why Severus was not taking to the boy very well.

“If you don’t want to see him I suggest you say so now, Severus. Harry likes you, quite well actually. The longer you wait to let him down the more hurt he will be.”

This was his door to freedom. He had never intended to get involved with Potter. Their chance encounter was no reason for Severus to continue being in contact with the child, regardless of what he had learned of how the boy had been treated by his relatives. It was true that he pitied the boy for what he had gone through and did not want him to go back there, but now he was well taken care of. Joseph had been a great father to his children, and a second father figure to Severus, and surely he was more than capable of taking care of his grandson.

Besides, what interest did Severus have in the boy? Nothing. In another five years he would be starting Hogwarts, no doubt giving Severus reason for many grey hairs. But right now the boy was not his problem. Severus didn’t like children anyway and especially not this child. Right?

Soft footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Both men looked up and spotted the child standing in the doorway, looking hesitant and sleepy.

“Gramps? Mr. Snape?”

“Harry! What are you doing out of bed?” Joseph wondered, getting up.

“I couldn’t sleep and I heard voices.”

“Well, you should go back to bed. Do you want a glass of milk first?”

The boy shook his head and looked past his grandfather towards Severus. Hesitating briefly he glanced up at his grandfather before moving past him. Severus sat frozen in his chair, not sure what to do. The boy stopped a few steps away and looked up at Severus face, his expression nowhere near the joy there had been earlier that day.

“I’m sorry Mr. Snape,” the boy said, his voice serious. “I didn’t know you were afraid of spiders and I shouldn’t have shown them to you like that.”

He finished his apology off with a little bow before turning and running back to his grandfather, holding his arms out for a hug.

Baffled Severus stared at the little boy, who despite obviously still being uncertain whether Severus was trustworthy or not had forced himself to apologize. Part of him wanted to dismiss it as foolish Gryffindor behaviour. Another part of him wondered if this wasn’t exactly how Lily would have handled the situation, had she and her son changed places.

The difference between the boy’s behaviour earlier in the day and now was striking. Before he had barely been able to free himself as the boy clung to him in a tight hug, now the boy found it safer to hide in his grandfather’s arms. Had he suddenly become his father, frightening little children for the smallest or most imaginary of reasons? The thought made him feel sick.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter. I should not have reacted the way I did and I did not realise that I had frightened you.”

Where the words came from he was not sure, and they tasted strange on his tongue. The boy looked at him over his grandfather’s shoulder and then gave a small smile as Joseph carried him away.

That smile would haunt Severus for a long time. 

Two days passed in which Severus did not see Harry Potter again. He got the house fully cleaned out, did some repair work and even got most of the furniture replaced. Still there was no sight of Harry Potter. Not that Severus wanted to see the boy, of course. It was merely that little smile the boy had given him that had made him think that the boy would search him out again. But perhaps he had been wrong.

Perhaps Potter had just decided to leave Severus alone. Severus hoped so. Then he cursed quietly as he found himself looking out the window, searching for the boy.

With the house in a liveable condition Severus moved on to the back yard, deciding that he might as well get that cleared out as well. He might even plant some potions ingredients. Nothing that needed too much time to grow, of course, seeing as it was really a bit too late to plant anything new and expect a good result. Even so, it would be a shame to leave the garden in its terrible condition now when the house was finally up to par. And Severus never did have much patience for planting useless flowers anyway.

“Mr. Snaape! Mr. Snape! Where are you?”

The shout interrupted the peace of his work and Severus looked up.

“Mr. Snaape!”

The familiar voice was loud as ever and, perhaps a little surprisingly, happy as ever too. Severus stood, wiping away the dirt and weeds that clung to his clothes, and made his way towards the house.

As expected he found the Potter boy outside his door, alongside Joseph. The boy looked very excited and was smiling widely, although he notably did not hug Severus the way he had last time they came knocking on his door.

“We’re going fishing!” the boy explained, by way of greeting. “You want to come?”

A quick glance at Joseph revealed that the man was indeed holding on to three fishing rods.

“Just a bit down the river,” Joseph added.

“Do you want to come?” the boy repeated. “Gramps say’s there are loads of fish in the river! And he’s going to show me how to catch them!”

Expectant green eyes looked up at him, pleading with him to say yes. Severus’ knees ached from kneeling for too long on the hard ground. He could get the back yard in order later, right?

“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing at Joseph.

“Harry wants you to come,” Joseph stated. “I’ve got an extra fishing rod. It’s up to you whether you want to come or not.”

Why not? Severus decided. He could use a break anyway.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

Soon thereafter they had left the houses behind them and were walking through a piece of forest Severus remembered from his childhood. The path they were following was familiar too. Severus could remember Joseph taking Lily, Petunia and him fishing in the summers, walking alongside this very path. The forest had grown a bit, so things were not exactly the same, but Severus still knew where they were going.

“I’m going to catch a fish this big!” the boy exclaimed, holding his hands ridiculously far apart.

“Maybe so,” Joseph chuckled.

“I’ll catch a hundred fishes!” the boy continued, eagerly running ahead on the path.

Severus felt a bit awkward, not one to encourage such nonsense talk yet unwilling to make the boy stop smiling. Especially considering Joseph’s presence and their conversation the other night. If you don’t want to see him I suggest you say so now, Joseph’s voice rang in his head. The elder man had been completely serious, a clear warning not to do anything to harm the boy again. Yet Potter had apologised to him and even smiled, and in that moment he had been very reminiscent of his mother.

Severus found he could almost tolerate the boy’s excited state. Perhaps it was just Joseph’s presence and the familiar surroundings of his childhood but he had the distinct feeling that Lily would not like for him to turn his back on her son. Not that the boy needed Severus, of course. Severus didn’t need or want the boy either, but perhaps he should just keep an eye on him, even now, as a sort of last favour towards his childhood friend?

“He hasn’t been fishing before,” Joseph explained. “He’s been begging me to take him for weeks now.”

“I see,” Severus replied noncommittedly.

They reached the river and Joseph helped the boy get his hook into the water and showed him how to hold the fishing rod. Severus listened with half an ear, having received the same instructions several times as a child, and quickly put a worm on his own hook and threw it into the water a bit further up the river.

Once the hook was in the water the boy sat down on the river bend, staring intently at the cork. Severus almost felt the corners of his mouth twitch at the sight, so eager did the boy look.

“Well, this’ll be interesting,” Joseph commented as he too put his hook into the water, standing in between Severus and Harry.

“I’m sure it will,” Severus agreed.

A few minutes later Severus’ cork sank and he reeled in the first fish of the day, a rather small dace.

“You got one, you got one!” the boy chanted excitedly, almost dropping his own fishing rod in his eagerness to get to Severus and see the fish in question.

“Harry, be careful!” Joseph chided. “We wouldn’t want to get one of us on the hook, would we?”

Severus carefully unhooked the dace and, considering its size, let it back into the water.

“Why’d you let it go?” the boy asked, looking at Severus as if he was crazy.

“It was too small,” Severus explained. “Better to let it grow a bit more.”

After that the boy returned to his own fishing, staring even more intently on the cork as it gently bobbed on the water.

“I remember your excitement the first time you caught a fish, Severus,” Joseph commented.

Severus kept his face calm and did not reveal the embarrassment he felt at the memory. At ten Severus had basically danced with joy at the little perch he had caught. As he retold the story later it grew in size every time.

“Yes, well … I was a child back then,” Severus stated, clearing his throat.

“I never said there was anything wrong with your excitement,” Joseph smiled. “In fact, I quite enjoyed seeing you smile like that. You were always a very serious child.”

A moment later Joseph’s cork sank and he man reeled in a dace, a bit larger than the one Severus had caught. Potter looked on with longing as Joseph removed the fish, killed it and put it aside before returning his hook to the water. Then the boy was back to staring at his cork.

Time passed. Severus reeled in another two daces, these two of a decent size, and Joseph three perches. Still Potter had not gotten a single catch and he was growing visibly more impatient by the minute.

“Some bad luck there,” Severus commented at last, fearing a tantrum was on its way.

Joseph chuckled.

“Well, you could say that. Personally I bet he’d have a lot more luck if he’d use bait.”

“He’s not using bait?” Severus asked, wondering if he had heard correctly.

“Nope. Felt sorry for the worm and wouldn’t let me pierce it on the hook.”

Which was such a Lily thing to do that Severus almost laughed. While no vegetarian Lily had always felt strongly about the suffering of innocent animals and had often preferred to use alternative baits, such as pieces of sausages, cheese chunks or even bread.

Standing on the riverside in the sunshine was quite relaxing and Severus found he was in a rather good mood. There were a few birds singing somewhere in the trees, the soft rippling of the water in the warm summer breeze and the sounds of low conversation going on to his right. He closed his eyes and angled his face towards the sun. If he were to be honest he was more relaxed now than he had been for a very long time. Which was strange, considering that he was in the company of Harry Potter of all people. Yet here he was. Enjoying an afternoon fishing almost as much as he had as a child.

“You want to change places?” Joseph offered as he reeled in yet another dace.

“Yes please!” the boy eagerly replied, quickly moving towards the indicated place.

Joseph chuckled, returned the small fish to the water and went to take the place his grandson had vacated.

“I want to catch fishes too,” the boy complained.

“You can’t catch fish without a bait,” Joseph stated.

The boy pouted and returned to staring at the cork in front of him, obviously hoping to prove his grandfather wrong.

To Severus surprise there was no tantrum. Potter didn’t even seem to lose much interest in the fishing, despite his lack of luck. Even so, as time wore on, the boy became more and more impatient, obviously encouraged in his envy as Joseph and Severus both continued to occasionally reel in their catch.

“Gramps?” he finally said, his voice low. “Will you help me put on the bait?”

Although he would deny it to death it was with amusement that Severus watched the boy tightly close his eyes just as Joseph was about to put the worm on the hook, almost as if he expected it to hurt on him and not the worm. It was almost strange, seeing the boy who resembled his father so act so much like his mother.

“There,” Joseph said. “All done.”

The hook went into the water and Potter stared at the cork so intently he seemed to forget both blinking and breathing. The cork lay on the water surface, bobbing up and down gently but not sinking. Severus found himself watching the boy’s cork, almost forgetting to watch his own. And then, finally …

“I’ve got one! I’ve got one! SEE!”

Indeed it was a catch and with only a little help from Joseph the boy reeled in a perch that was about twice as large as the ones Severus and Joseph had caught.

“I got one, I got one, I got one!” the boy chanted as Joseph removed the fish from the hook. “See, I told you I’d get a big one!”

After that the boy caught another two ones before Joseph decided it was time to go home. There was only a minor amount of complaining and on the way home the boy insisted on carrying his own fish.

They ate dinner together that evening, Joseph and Severus de-scaling and filleting the fish before Joseph pan fried it. The end result was marvellous and reminded Severus of many similar evenings, spent with Lily and her family. As he now looked at the boy sitting opposite of him by the table he realised that perhaps there was more of her in her son than he had originally thought. 

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Already the next morning there was a knock on his door and an eager shout of “Mr. Snaape! It’s me, Harry! Do you want to go fishing with us again?”

Severus glanced at the overgrown back yard and allowed himself to be dragged away. He had enjoyed himself, so why not give it another try?

And so another pleasant day fishing from the riverside passed by. Once again Severus ended up joining them for dinner and didn’t leave until it was bedtime for the boy.

This set the routine for the days that followed. The boy continued to show up to knock on Severus door every day, if not in the morning at least in the afternoon. He always had some request for Severus; join them fishing, come over for tea, take a walk with them, play with Harry … The requests never seemed to end and although it went against all of his instincts Severus found that he really didn’t mind that much. Not that he’d ever admit to such a thing.

Somewhere along the line the boy went from being ‘the boy’ or ‘Potter’ or even ‘Lily’s son’ to being just ‘Harry’. Severus was not quite sure how or when it happened but if felt natural, so he stuck with it.

Then the weather turned on them in the form of rain. Although this had Severus somewhat deterred it seemed to have little effect on the child.

“We should bake something!” the boy exclaimed.

Joseph and Severus looked at each other where they were sitting in the living room. Although a decent enough cook Joseph was not that talented in the kitchen, having relied on Daisy for most of the cooking. Of course he had learned over the last few years, when she had fallen ill, but his recipe for baking was usually to go to the local baker. Severus, on the other hand, although talented at potions had never really learned to cook, much less bake. Why bother with the house elves around?

“Maybe some other time,” Joseph said.

“Why not now?”

“Well … Because we might not have everything we need at home.”

“But you haven’t even checked yet!”

Harry was bouncing up and down on his feet in his eagerness. In contrast, neither Severus nor Joseph looked very excited where they sat in the armchairs. Joseph got up with a sigh, heading for the kitchen.

“What do you want to make then?” he asked.

“Chocolate chip biscuits!”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips,” Joseph stated at once.

“I’ve still got that chocolate bar you got me.”

Amused Severus listened to the boy and the old man talking in the kitchen. Joseph’s uncomfortableness was quite obvious but so was the fact that he did not like denying his grandson anything. Watching this unfold could be quite interesting.

Something soft hit him in the face.

“Get up Severus! If I have to bake, so do you!”

Awkwardly Severus lifted the thing that had hit him in the face, untangled it and then stared in horror at the flowery apron.

“Come on Severus! Those biscuits aren’t going to bake themselves, you know,” Joseph urged him on once again.

“I am not wearing this,” Severus stated, glaring at Joseph.

Only to discover that the man was wearing another floral pattered apron. It had ruffles too.

“Yes you are. Now come on!”

With great reluctance Severus stood and approached the kitchen, apron in hand.

The ingredients had apparently been set out on the kitchen table and Harry, wearing a third flowery apron, was busily reading from an ancient looking cookbook, sounding out the words as he did so.

“Beat … eggs … one … at … a … time … then … stir …”

Severus glared at Joseph.

“I am not baking!” he stated.

“Sure you are! And when we’re finished you can lick the bowl, like in the old times!”

“Can I lick the bowl too?” Harry eagerly wondered.

If at all possible, Severus’ glare turned even more murderous. He had been nine! And ten, eleven and twelve, but still! He’d been a child back then! Lily had been the one wanting to help her mother bake, by the way. Severus had only joined them because it would be impolite not to. Perhaps also a little because Daisy had bribed him with her delicious dough. But still!

Joseph seemed to be taking the whole ordeal with humour and had returned to the kitchen table, reading the recipe over Harry’s shoulder.

Perhaps it would be best if Severus stayed and watched the two botch things up, if only to make sure they didn’t burn the house down. Severus glanced at the oven, noticing that it had not been turned on yet. Daisy had always done that first, he remembered, deciding not to point that fact out just yet. Instead he put the apron on a counter and seated himself on the opposite side of the table, watching the other two get to work.

“Looks like we need the butter and the sugar first,” Joseph stated, reaching for said ingredients.

“And a bowl and something to stir with!” Harry added, darting away to search for said items.

With some help from Joseph with regards to measuring the appropriate amounts Harry then added the ingredients to the bowl and began attacking it with the wooden spoon. Watching the boy struggle with the hard butter Severus realised that he apparently remembered more about baking than he had recalled. At least when it came to biscuits, which had been a favourite of both Lily and Daisy. He remembered that they’d always remove the butter from the refrigerator in advance, so that it had time to soften before they got started.

Still, watching the little boy wrestle with the bowl and the spoon as he tried to squash the hard butter was strangely amusing.

When Harry grew tired Joseph took over, having a little more success at squashing the butter.

“Whew, I never knew baking was so hard!” Joseph commented. “Daisy made it look so easy!”

They added the eggs and the vanilla, taking turns to stir the mixture.

“Dissolve baking soda in hot water and add to batter along with salt,” Joseph read aloud.

He sighed, looking between the kitchen table and the water tap, appearing to be measuring the distance.

“Could you do that, Severus?” he asked.

“He needs to have his apron on!” the boy exclaimed

“I am not wearing an apron,” Severus objected.

“But you have to! No baking without an apron, right gramps!”

Seeing as there were already stains on the boy’s apron that was probably a good rule. Not that it should apply to Severus, of course, who had no plans on spilling anything on himself.

“Harry’s right, Severus. No baking without an apron.”

The old man just wanted to see Severus wearing that ridiculous apron! Severus wanted to refuse, but two amused pairs of green eyes looking at him and he found himself softening. What harm could it do? It wasn’t like anyone else could see him. So, with a tortured sigh, he put the apron on and went to measure up the given amount of hot water and baking soda.

Once the baking soda was dissolved he added it to the bowl. Joseph held onto the bowl as Harry stirred, mixing it all.

Next came the flour and the chocolate chips, at which point Severus became happy about the apron. Somehow the boy managed to get flour not only onto himself, but Joseph and Severus as well, as he stirred the batter. In the end Severus had to take over the stirring, making sure it all mixed properly.

At last the other two realised that the oven needed to be turned on. Joseph quickly did so before they focused on getting the dough out onto the pan, which was easier said than done. In the end it turned out as two big biscuits and a few smaller ones. Severus was more than a little apprehensive about how it would all turn out.

The biscuits finally in the oven, Harry collapsed into a tired pile on the kitchen floor, leaving he cleaning up to the adults.

Joseph smiled and allowed it.

Severus wanted to tell the boy to get up and help clean up the mess that he had created but held his tongue.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry smiled to himself as he lay on the floor, watching his gramps and Mr. Snape clean up. Making biscuits had been fun and it had been nice eating all that dough, but the best part had definitely been seeing his gramps and Mr. Snape in those aprons. Harry thought they looked funny; almost as if they were wearing girl’s summer dresses.

He wondered how Mr. Snape would look in an actual dress. Maybe he would draw that later. Though he’d probably make sure not to show the drawing to Mr. Snape later. Or maybe he should, just to see what the reaction would be.

Suddenly he remembered that he had drawn Mr. Snape a picture last night. Not one with Mr. Snape wearing a dress of course, but one portraying the three of them fishing by the river. He should go get it and give it to him now, before he forgot again. After all, he had worked really hard on that picture. So Harry sprang up and left the room on silent feet, not realising that neither of the adults had noticed his disappearance.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Thank you for doing this, Severus.”

Severus looked up from the dishes he was cleaning and met the eyes of the older man. Joseph were looking at him seriously, his eyes speaking of appreciation and gratefulness. Not knowing what to say to that Severus merely shrugged. He had helped make biscuits. His students would never believe it but here, in this particular company, he once again found he didn’t honestly mind that much. It went against his very nature and yet it was completely true. Not that he knew how to put that into words. So the shrug was the best response he could give.

Joseph seemed to understand.

“I know you probably have better things to do,” the older man continued. “Both Harry and I appreciate you taking the time for us.”

“It’s nothing,” Severus said, trying to minimize it. “I’ve got things to take care of here anyway. Taking a few breaks now and then is no big deal.”

At that Joseph laughed. 

“If it weren’t for us that house would have been cleaned out a week ago!” he stated, giving Severus a knowing look. “I’ve had my hands full trying to give you some time alone. Harry’s really taken to you, you know.”

Once again the statement left Severus without a response and so he chose to remain quiet. Joseph could fill in the gaps of the conversation if he wanted to. Instead Severus returned his attention to the dishes in front of him.

“It’s been good for him,” Joseph continued after a moment. “He doesn’t have many friends so he gets lonely sometimes.”

A realisation hit Severus then; he had never seen Harry with other children. Not once. And the boy rarely spoke of his classmates or friends, seeming to prefer the company of Severus and Joseph instead. Was that normal behaviour in a child? Severus didn’t think so. At least not if his students were anything to go by. Then again, Hogwarts was a boarding school and therefore offered a very minimal chance of being alone for any longer period of time.

“Doesn’t he have any friends the same age that he can play with?” Severus asked, curious and, for some reason, concerned.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Why?”

Joseph shrugged.

“He had to change schools mid-term and I believe he’s a bit shy at school, probably because of his background. Guess that’s enough for the other children to pick on him.”

Memories of his own childhood flooded back; of being the strange boy in the strange clothes, of his peers avoiding him or actively making fun of him because of it. Lily had been the exception; the only one who had seen past his raggedy appearance and seen the lonely boy he had been.

So Severus knew what it was like to be bullied and ostracised by his peers but he never would have imagined that to be the life of Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived; Lily’s boy. The thought alone was hard to take in, for numerous reasons, but having gotten to know the boy in question he now found himself wondering how the boy would be able to take it all until he started Hogwarts. If he would be able to take it all.

“I’ve talked to the teacher of course,” Joseph continued, “but sadly she says there is nothing she can do. Not that she haven’t tried. It just seems to make things worse though.”

Yes, Severus could imagine that. Children could be cruel little beasts and while a teacher may have some ability to control their class in that sense, there was no way for said teacher to always be present. Thus, life could be hard for one who was considered an outsider by his classmates. Severus knew this and he also knew, from his own experience, that there was little point in hoping for a change.

“I see,” he muttered, finishing the dishes at last.

Silence reigned for a moment; a silence during which Severus pondered what he had just heard and the strangely strong emotions it had awakened within him. It was more than pity, more than recognising himself in the boy’s situation. He cared. Not only because the boy was Lily’s or because he was Harry Potter, but because he was Harry. The happy, foolish, sometimes idiotic but still gentle and loving little boy that Severus had gotten to know since their unexpected run in with each other. Severus didn’t like the thought of that boy being unhappy the way he himself had been as a child.

He opened his mouth to say something. What he wasn’t quite sure of. Perhaps it was to offer empty words of comfort, perhaps to try and provide the elder man with some hope or maybe, just maybe, it was to promise his help, impossible as it might seem to solve such a problem as bullying. Either way the words never left his lips as a series of loud thuds echoed in from the entryway, ending with a crash.

Startled by the noise both Joseph and Severus looked up, then towards the spot where they had last seen the boy. Gone. Almost as one they rushed towards the entryway where the sounds had come from, Severus still holding the towel on which he had been wiping his hands.

They found Harry in a bundle on the floor beneath the stairs. A small table had been knocked to the side and the telephone which usually was on top of it a bit further away. Neither Joseph nor Severus paid much attention to the table or the phone though.

“Harry!” Joseph exclaimed. “What happened?”

He knelt down by the boy’s side, worriedly reaching for his grandson. Severus stood behind him, already reaching for his wand to cast a few diagnostic spells. Amazingly, however, the boy sat up, looking a little dazed but unharmed.

“Are you alright?” Joseph asked, hands already searching his grandson for injuries.

With worrying familiarity the boy tested his arms, stretching them and moving them around, before doing the same with his legs.

“I’m fine,” the stated, a tone of amazement in his voice.

“What happened?” Joseph repeated, his hands still searching for injuries.

“I stumbled on the carpet and I fell. I thought it would hurt, like it did last time, but it didn’t. It didn’t hurt at all! Isn’t that amazing?!”

At the reference to the past Severus couldn’t help but wince a little. So this was not the first time the boy fell down a staircase. Briefly he wondered if it had been an accident then too or if he had gotten “help” to fall. Somehow he suspected the latter.

“It didn’t hurt at all gramps!” Harry repeated, quickly standing.

“Thank God you’re alright!” Joseph exclaimed. “But be careful, in case there are any internal injuries. Severus, we should call an ambulance, just in case. Get the phone, please, and …”

“No need,” Severus interrupted. “I can check him over myself.”

Quickly he pulled his wand out and cast a few diagnostic spells. They were nothing particularly advanced, as Severus was not a healer, just a collection of various diagnostic spells that almost anyone could learn. If there were any hidden injuries one of the spells ought to pick up on them. None of them wielded any results however. It appeared the boy had been saved by accidental magic.

“Nothing,” Severus stated. “He’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief and hugged his grandson tightly. Quietly, Severus too let out a relieved breath. Harry, however, had his eyes fixed on Severus wand.

“What’re you doing with that stick, Mr. Snape?” he asked, apparently having already forgotten his near death experience moments ago.

And suddenly Severus remembered that the boy was not aware of magic, much less of the fact that Severus was a wizard.

“Well …”

Now, how was he supposed to explain not only the existence of magic, wizards and witches but also the fact that Potter and Lily had been murdered by one of the darkest wizards of the century, to the boy? The task seemed impossible. Severus had no idea of where to start.

“It’s a wand,” Joseph’s voice broke in. “Severus is a wizard and with the help of his wand he can do magic.”

“But magic isn’t real. Aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon says so.”

“Not everything they told you is true,” Joseph explained, a vaguely pained expression on his face. “This is one of those things. Magic is real.”

Harry still didn’t look convinced, glancing doubtfully at Severus and his wand. Meanwhile Severus stood dumbfounded as he found himself excluded from this revelation of the magical world. How was it that it was Joseph, a muggle, who knew what to say, when Severus, the wizard, had no idea of where to begin?

“It is real,” Joseph repeated. “Your mother was a witch and your father a wizard. Severus went to school with them.”

“But magic isn’t real,” the boy insisted, though his voice was wavering. “Uncle Vernon said it’s just tricks and humbug for people who’re too lazy to get a real job.”

Severus’ hand tightened around his wand in anger. It was one thing to hide the existence of magic from the boy, another to try and turn him against all that was magic. What had the muggles been thinking? They knew that Harry would be going to Hogwarts one day. What had they been planning on telling him then?

“Your uncle lied,” Joseph calmly explained, still kneeling on the ground, eyes on the same level as Harry’s. “He isn’t magical like you or your parents, and sometimes non-magical people get jealous of those who do have magic. Not that that is an excuse for him to lie to you like that.”

Again Harry glanced hesitantly at Severus, who decided that he had been ignored long enough. He was the magical one here! Not that Joseph wasn’t doing a decent enough job of explaining things to the boy anyway, but still! So Severus waved his wand and spoke two words. From the tip of his wand sprang a silvery doe. On ethereal legs she sprang around the room, searching for any danger to her summoner, before she came to a halt in front of him. Her head turned lightly as she watched from Severus to Joseph to Harry.

“Wow!” Harry said slowly, eyes huge as saucers.

He reached a hand out, as if to touch the doe, but then pulled back a little, glancing hesitantly at Severus. Suddenly Severus regretted his choice of spell. It had felt right at the moment, so much that the feeling alone had been enough to summon the doe. Now his heart was clenching and Severus did not know how to handle any of this. Lily’s death was still a very sensitive subject to him and here he was, summoning the doe that was proof of his love to her in front of her orphaned son and her elderly father. And Harry, unaware of it all as he was, reaching for the doe that symbolised his long dead mother.

“She’s not real,” Severus whispered, a strange lump having formed in his throat and made him unable to speak any louder at the moment.

Harry looked disappointed. The doe stepped forward, pushing her muzzle into the boy’s hand. Patronuses were like ghosts in that they had no corporeal form; ones hand sank right through them if one tried to touch them. Even so the doe seemed to cuddle Harry’s hand as the boy held himself absolutely still.

“Feels funny,” the boy said at last. “Tingles, kind of, but still like there’s nothing there.”

As if to prove his point he moved a finger. It went straight through the doe. She didn’t seem to mind though, for all appearances enjoying the caress. Severus couldn’t take it anymore and with a wave of his wand she was gone, leaving behind her three speechless people.

Joseph recovered first.

“Well, that was impressive,” he stated, referring to the spell.

Severus nodded, not referring to the spell. He had never seen a patronus behave the way his doe just had, not without any sort of instruction from its summoner.

“It’s real,” the boy stated, looking at his hand as if he had suddenly grown extra fingers. “Magic’s real.”

Both Joseph and Severus nodded quietly.

“The biscuits!” the boy suddenly exclaimed, running for the kitchen.

Startled by the sudden shout and change of topic it took the adults a moment to realise what the boy was talking about. Once they did catch on they quickly followed the boy, realising that the smell of burning food was quickly becoming stronger.

“Don’t touch that Harry!” Joseph ordered, pulling his grandson away from the oven.

Severus quickly opened it and removed the biscuits. They were black and smoking.

“I think we’ll need something else for our afternoon tea,” Joseph stated after a moment. “What do you say we head down to the bakery? Seems the rain is finally stopping.”

They agreed to do so, since none of the biscuits were edible.

After throwing away the ruined biscuits and cleaning up the mess in the entryway all three left the house.

“So my mom was a witch?” Harry asked after a moment, latching on to Severus’ hand as they walked.

“She was,” Severus confirmed, futilely trying to free himself from the boy’s grip.

“And you went to school with her? And my dad?”

“Yes.”

“That’s so cool! What was it like? What kind of things did you use to do? What was her favourite subject? How did she …”

“One question at a time, Harry,” Joseph chided. “And maybe Severus doesn’t want to talk about this at all.”

Green eyes looked pleadingly up at him and Severus sighed.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“What is it like going to a school for magic?”

“It was … school,” Severus stated, unsure of what to tell a boy who knew absolutely nothing of the magical world. Then he decided to start with the basics.

“The magical school here in the UK is called Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts? That’s a funny name.”

“Maybe so. Hogwarts is a big castle in Scotland. It’s a boarding school, so students live there for most of the year, except for Christmas and summer.”

“What do they teach?”

“Magic, in various forms. There is charms, and transfiguration, history of magic, potions … Quite a lot of subjects actually. Some are obligatory and some are elective.”

“What was my mom’s favourite subject?”  

“She was quite skilled in most subjects, though I think potions and transfiguration were her favourites.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Potions and transfiguration?”

“Well … Potions is the art of making potions; anything from a headache reliever to Polyjuice potion, which will allow you to take on another human’s body for an hour, or Felix Felicis, which is called liquid luck because it gives the one who drinks it luck for a limited amount of time.”

“Wow!”

“Transfiguration is the art of turning one object into something else. For example, turning pet into a water cup and back.”

“Wouldn’t that hurt the pet?”

“No, not if you do it correctly. Which is why it is such an important subject.”

“Hm … I think Potions sounds cooler.”

Severus smirked a little at that. Indeed, potions was “cooler” than transfiguration, no disrespect towards Minerva McGonagall intended.

Their walk continued like that; Harry asking questions and Severus answering them to the best of his ability. Soon enough they reached the street on which the local bakery was located. Once the bakery was within sight Harry finally (finally!) let go of Severus’ hand and ran ahead of the adults.

“Hello, Mr. Gibson!” they could hear the boy call as he pushed the door open.

“Prepare yourself,” Joseph warned Severus, his tone humorous. “Harry’s got the Gibson’s wrapped around his little finger.”

Mr. Gibson was a large, kind looking man whom Severus remembered from his own childhood. Now the man was in his forties.

“What can I do for you today my boy?” the man was asking as Severus and Joseph entered the bakery.

“We need biscuits for our tea,” Harry explained, smiling widely. “We tried to make our own but they went all black and disgusting.”

“I see, I see,” Mr. Gibson laughed. “What kind of biscuits would you like? I’ve got chocolate, chocolate chips, almond and peanut butter.”

“All of them!” the boy exclaimed.

“Pick two,” Joseph ordered. “I’m not buying four kinds of biscuits just for our afternoon tea.”

“Aww,” the boy whined before turning towards the displayed biscuits.

He spent several minutes looking between the two, perhaps hoping that Joseph would give in if he stalled enough. Finally Harry pointed towards one pile of biscuits.

“The chocolate chip ones,” he decided.

“How many?” Mr. Gibson wondered, bringing out a paper bag.

“Four,” Joseph said, before Harry could say anything else.

Severus had the feeling that Harry would have ordered forty of he had been allowed to decide.

“Four chocolate chip biscuits,” Mr. Gibson repeated as he filled the bag with the requested goods. “What else?”

“Hm … Almond. No, Peanut … Almond.”

“Which one is it?”

“Almond,” the boy stated, a sad glance towards the peanut butter biscuits.

“Four almond biscuits,” Mr. Gibson repeated, adding said items to the bag “and a couple of peanut butter ones, as a treat from me.”

“Really? Thanks, Mr. Gibson!”

Harry’s smile seemed to light up the room and Mr. Gibson laughed as he took the money Joseph offered and returned the change, along with the bag of biscuits.

“No problem at all. Just don’t tell my wife.”

Joseph pocketed the change and then they left the bakery, Harry once again running ahead as they headed back home.

“What’d I say?” Joseph commented with a smile.

“Kind of him to give you a few extra biscuits,” Severus agreed.

“He almost always does, ever since Harry came to live with me. They love fawning over him. You should see Mrs. Gibson when she’s on it!”

Since Severus had no idea who Mrs. Gibson was he simply imagined her as a young Daisy Evans, practically force-feeding him with her homemade biscuits while complaining that he looked much too thin. The memory made him smile.

Going to the bakery they had been going downhill, so now they made their way back up the hill at a more leisured pace. The two adults walked together and talked while Harry was running ahead. Somewhere he had picked up a stick, which he was now waving around and shouting nonsense words.

“I’m a wizard!” he shouted, waving his stick at a stone by the road. “Abracadabra! Turn into a bunny!”

“It’s been an adventurous day today,” Joseph stated tiredly. “Baking biscuits, falling down the stairs, finding out he’s a wizard … Hopefully he’ll settle down a bit once we’ve had our tea.”

“Not very likely, considering all the biscuits,” Severus commented. “He’ll be more likely to get into a sugar-induced frenzy.”

“You’re right, of course. I guess it’s just me that’s getting old …”

“You are not that old,” Severus pointed out.

“Seventy-two, Severus. Last time I checked, that’s old.”

For muggles perhaps, Severus thought to himself. Wizards tended to live longer and healthier, as their magic protected them from many of the diseases that plagued muggles. Not to mention wizards like Nicholas Flamel, who used magical potions and spells to give themselves lives that were unnaturally long even for wizards. Then again, even muggles often lived past seventy with a good margin.

“It’s not that old,” Severus stated.

“Feeling quite old right now, I’m afraid.”

Noticing that the older man was panting Severus came to an abrupt halt.

“Are you alright?” he wondered, eyeing the other man.

“Just need to stop and breathe for a moment, Severus. No worry.”

Joseph’s tone was dismissive but Severus was not convinced. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he noticed the other man was not just panting but also sweating and holding a hand to his chest.

“Something is wrong,” Severus stated. “You should see a doctor.”

“No worry, my boy. Just walking a bit too briskly up the hill, that’s all.”

Glancing around to make sure there were no muggles around Severus whipped out his wand and quickly cast a few diagnostic spells. The results confirmed Severus’ fears.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. “I’ll call a doctor for you.”

“Don’t do that. I don’t want to worry Harry.”

“You should worry more about yourself right now.”

“I can’t. I need to take care of Harry; I don’t have time to get ill.”

“You won’t be able to do much for him if you’re dead,” Severus proclaimed, helping the older man to continue walking.

“I’m sure it’s not that serious, Severus …”

“It’s your heart!” Severus bit out.

“My heart?”

“Yes! And last time I checked that was a rather vital organ even to muggles!”

To that Joseph could not object and they continued on their way back home, Joseph leaning on Severus and struggling to breathe. Severus cursed the fact that he had never bothered to learn many healing spells; instead preferring to rely on potions. They were generally more effective but also less readily available than spells that could be cast in a matter of moments. As a result Severus did not know how to help Joseph other than to get him back home and call for a muggle doctor, who would surely be equipped to deal with any muggle heart disorder.

“What’s going on?” Harry suddenly asked, coming up beside them. “Don’t you feel good, gramps?”

“No need to worry, Harry. Just a little out of breath.”

The boy did not look convinced and instead opted to copy what Severus was doing, helping his grandfather get back home. Of course, though Harry meant well his short stature made it that it was mostly him getting helped, not the other way around. Neither of the adults had the heart to point that out though.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Gramps wasn’t feeling well.

Harry didn’t like that. Not at all.

Would his gramps be alright? Harry hoped so, because he really did love his grandfather. He didn’t want gramps to be unwell.

When they finally reached their home Mr. Snape ordered that Harry take gramps to sit on the couch while he made a phone call. Harry did so without complaining, although he was almost panting himself from the effort of helping his grandfather get back home. Gramps’ panting was worse. And he was sweating too, and looking a bit pale. Though Harry could tell that gramps was trying not to show it, it was obvious that the man wasn’t feeling well at all.

“You want a biscuit?” Harry wondered, thinking about how gramps had fed him ice cream when Harry had gotten a bad cold earlier in the year.

“No thank you, Harry. I’ll just sit here and rest for a while.”

“Ok.”

Feeling useless Harry looked around the room, as if expecting a solution to his problem to jump out of one of the paintings. From the entryway he could hear Mr. Snape talking on the phone. Harry couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but there were words such as “heart problem” and “lack of oxygen”. He didn’t know what that meant but it didn’t sound very well.

Finally Mr. Snape came off the phone and into the living room, looking worried.

“An ambulance is on the way,” he said.

“Surely that’s not necessary?”

“Perhaps not but surely you agree that it is best to be certain in a situation like this?”

The adults argued back and forth but Harry did not listen. He had stopped listening when he heard the word “ambulance”. Ambulances were for people who were very, very ill. Gramps didn’t look that bad but he didn’t look good either … Was gramps really that ill? Harry felt his eyes tear up at the thought.

“I don’t want you to die!” he cried, tears running down his cheeks.

Desperate for comfort he clung to his grandfather’s arm, horrified at the thought of losing him.

“I won’t die!” gramps assured him, though Harry could not stop crying. “I won’t die Harry, I promise you that. There is way too much to do for that!”

“The doctors just want to be sure,” Mr. Snape’s calm voice added. “If he’s ill then they’ll be able to treat him. But it might not be very serious.”

The two men continued to comfort him and Harry continued to cry, clinging to his grandfather. He could not stand the thought of losing the man who had taken such good care of him, who had been so kind and who had taken Harry in, basically saving him from his aunt and uncle. The prospect of losing that man was so awful Harry did not know how to put it into words.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Standing in the doorway and watching as the ambulance drove away with Joseph Severus felt a surge of helplessness like nothing he had felt for quite some time. At his side stood Harry, clinging to Severus and crying quietly.

At least the boy was no longer hysteric, Severus tried to comfort himself.

It didn’t work.

What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t know how to take care of young children. Although he had spent some time with Harry and Joseph lately that did not mean that he knew what to do with the boy. Frankly, he was highly unsuitable and unqualified for the task of taking care of the boy on his own.

Yet here he was. Alone with the child; having promised Joseph to take care of him until the doctors released him from the hospital.

“Do you want some tea?” Severus finally asked.

Harry shook his head, still staring at the point where the ambulance had disappeared around a corner. Severus sighed.

“Come on,” he said, guiding the child back into the house. “I believe some tea will do you good. Have a biscuit while I get it ready.”

Chocolate and some warm tea could only do the boy good at this point, Severus reasoned.

Wordlessly Harry sat down on the couch, nibbling on a biscuit. That too was a sign of the boy’s current distress. Normally he would bite off a big piece of biscuit and barely chew at all. Still, nibbling was better than nothing, Severus supposed.

Preparing the tea was no difficult task and soon enough Severus had joined Harry in the living room, pouring two cups of tea for them. They then sat in silence, sipping their tea occasionally and nibbling on their biscuits.

Silence reigned as neither knew what to say, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“Couldn’t you use magic to make gramps better?” Harry suddenly asked, taking Severus by surprise.

“No,” Severus murmured, “unfortunately not.”

“Why not? It’s magic!”

“I’m not a healer,” Severus explained tiredly. “I don’t know many healing spells.”

“But there are spells that could help him?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not a healer.”

“What’s a healer anyway?”

“It’s a doctor for wizards.”

“And they could help my gramps?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

Severus sighed. He was not in a mood of explaining magical theory to an emotional five year old. However, judging from the determined look on the boy’s face, he would have to explain it or deal with a tantrum.

“Because your grandfather is a muggle,” Severus stated. “Magic works differently on him than it does on wizards. At least healing magic does.”

“How?”

“Healing spells and potions interact with the magic within the one being subjected to them, helping them to recover from whatever is ailing them.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I were to give you a potion or use a healing spell on you, the magic of that spell or potion would mix with your magic. They would help your magic make you better. However, because your grandfather does not have any magic of his own a spell or a potion would be useless on him.”

At least that was the problem with most healing spells and potions. Severus did definitely not feel like trying to explain the specific differences between certain spells, or healing magic and hexes, curses or even regular spells, and so he refrained from mentioning any of it. It was probably too advanced for the child anyway.

“Oh.”

Silence reigned again as the boy mulled that over. Severus did not interrupt him, preferring the silence to the questioning.

They sat like that for a long time, until the soft chime of the clock alerted Severus to the fact that it was now dinnertime. Personally he was not hungry and Harry didn’t look very hungry either, but he knew that it would be best if he prepared something for them to eat. Which begged the question; what to make for dinner?

Sandwiches, Severus decided after a quick look in the kitchen. He had never been much for cooking and preferred to leave that task to the house elves, seeing as they were so very happy to oblige which in return left Severus with more free time to spend however he wished. So sandwiches it was.

“I’m not hungry,” Harry objected when Severus called him into the kitchen for dinner.

“Eat some anyway,” Severus ordered.

“I don’t want any! I want gramps to come back!”

Bracing himself against the irritation Severus took a deep breath. The boy was just a boy; worried for a loved one and taking it out in the only way he knew how. Which did not make it less annoying for Severus to be the target for the boy’s temper.

“Your grandfather is going to be alright,” Severus assured the boy, though he himself was not quite convinced. “The doctors will take well care of him.”

“Promise?”

Big, green eyes glistening with tears looked up at him and suddenly the annoyance Severus felt disappeared almost completely.

“I promise. Now eat some. Your grandfather would not want you to go hungry.”

Surprisingly, the boy did as he had been told.

Severus forced himself to eat some too. He was worried about the older man but nothing good would come out of him skipping meals.

Soon after dinner Severus decided it was bedtime for Harry. The boy was yawning and had, as Joseph had stated earlier, had an adventurous day.

“Will you tell me a bedtime story?” Harry asked, when Severus ordered him to get ready for bed.

“A bedtime story?” Severus repeated, taken aback by the request.

“Yeah. To help me sleep? Please?”

“I don’t think I know any bedtime stories.”

“It’s easy. Please?”

With a sigh, Severus gave in. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying went.

So the boy got ready for bed, thankfully without needing any assistance from Severus, and then looked expectantly at Severus, waiting for his bedtime story.

“What do you want to hear about?” Severus wondered, awkwardly sitting down at the side of the boy’s bed.

“I don’t know. Something. Why don’t you tell me about Hogwarts?”

“I told you about Hogwarts earlier today.”

“Then tell me something else.”

What to tell? Severus knew many things but suddenly few of those appeared to be suitable bedtime stories. After all, a bedtime story about the forbidden forest and all the creatures that lived within it was not likely to put the boy to sleep anytime soon.

“Well … Hogwarts was founded by two wizards and two witches,” Severus began, hoping that he had chosen a suitable subject for a bedtime story. “Their names were Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. They wanted to create the world’s best magic school. One night, Rowena Ravenclaw had a dream wherein a warty hog led her to a cliff by a lake somewhere in Scotland. She chose that spot to build the school and they called it Hogwarts, after the warty hog in her dream.”

As Severus spoke the boy relaxed back into his pillows, watching Severus intently as he spoke. Since no objections to his choice of story was forthcoming Severus chose to take that as something good and continued on, a little more confident.

“Each of the four founders wanted different qualities in their students …” he continued, telling of the four houses at Hogwarts and their qualities.

Before he had reached Salazar Slytherin and his break with the other founders the boy was asleep. With a small, satisfied smile Severus adjusted the boy’s covers and quietly left the room.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP                    

It was not so much an agreement as an unspoken need for the both of them to visit the hospital the next day; both of them tormented by worry. They arrived at the hospital by bus just before lunch, both anxious to see how Joseph was doing and eagerly finding their way through the crowded hospital. Once they had reached the right department Severus stopped one of the busy looking nurses.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Joseph Evans’ room. He came in yesterday by ambulance,” he said.

“That’ll be just down the hall, fourth door to the left,” she directed, gesturing with her hand and forcing a police smile at Severus.

“Thank you.”

Harry ran ahead as soon as the nurse had told them which room it was, Severus quickly following behind.

“Gramps!”  

A joyous cry came. Severus entered the room just in time to see the boy throwing himself at his grandfather. Joseph seemed almost as happy as Harry, albeit tired and still looking pale.

“Harry!”

“I’m so glad you aren’t dead gramps!”

“I won’t die this easily. Wild horses couldn’t take me from you!”

They hugged and Severus stood back a little, awkward and yet relieved to see that the man was apparently doing alright. Although he had tried not to show it, considering how emotional Harry had gotten yesterday, Severus had really worried. Finding out that Daisy was dead had been enough of a shock. With Lily already dead Joseph was the only remaining person that Severus remembered from his childhood with fondness.

“How have you been? Not causing Severus too much trouble, I hope?”

“Nu-uh,” the boy replied, shaking his head.

“Really? Severus?”

Startled a little at suddenly being pulled into the conversation it took Severus a moment to answer.

“He’s been behaving decently.”

“Decently, huh? That doesn’t sound very good.”

“But I have been good gramps! I promise!”

“Good, good. We wouldn’t like to scare him away, now would we?”

“Nope! He told me a bedtime story last night. About Hogwarts.”

“I’m glad that the two of you are getting along.”

Afraid that the two would once again return to hugging each other Severus decided that it was time he asked the question they had come to get answered.

“How are you?” he asked, looking pointedly at Joseph.

“I’m hanging in there,” Joseph replied, looking serious. “They say it’s my heart. I’m scheduled for …” he glanced at Harry, “S-U-R-G-E-R-Y tomorrow, and they’ll want to keep me for at least another couple of days after that, for observation.”  

“What’s S-U-R … What you said?” the boy wondered, looking questioningly between the adults.

“It’s a treatment Harry. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you won’t get to go home with us?”

“Not today. The doctors need some more time to make me better.”

The boy did not look happy at that and pouted unhappily, snuggling closer to his grandfather.

Meanwhile Severus was busy pondering the seriousness of the situation. He had known, of course, that muggle doctors were more limited with regards to treatment of their patients, but hearing that Joseph were to go under the knife in less than a day made it that much more tangible. At the same time, if the muggles had decided to operate on him then it must indeed be something serious. Severus supposed that he should at least be grateful that he had been there and made sure the man got to the hospital or surely Joseph would have ignored the signs until it might have been too late.

“Would you mind watching Harry for another couple of days, Severus?” Joseph suddenly asked, focusing his gaze on Severus again.

“I’m not sure I’m the most suitable …”

“You’ll do fine Severus. Unless you’re too busy?”

“I’m not too busy,” Severus admitted. “It’s just that …”

“You’re worried you’ll do something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry, Severus. It’s easy enough, and Harry will be on his best behaviour. Right, Harry?”

“I’ll be good. Promise. Please, Mr. Snape?”

As the two pairs of green eyes looked at him Severus found himself giving in to their wishes. Again.

“Of course, if you can’t then I’ll just have to call someone else,” Joseph said. “Maybe Mrs. Baird down the street?”

“No, she’s awful!” Harry objected immediately. “She only cares about her roses!”

“For a few days then,” Severus agreed with a sigh.

“Great! I’ll repay you, of course.”

As they worked out the details Severus wondered, not for the first time since his run in with Harry, what he had gotten himself into. There was no way this was a good idea. 

“I’m bored.”

Harry, who was sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and crayons, looked expectantly to Mr. Snape for a reaction to his statement. Nothing happened. Mr. Snape didn’t even look up from his magazine, which had a moving picture of a wizard on the front page. Harry had found that picture very interesting at first but now he was just bored.

“I’m bored,” he repeated, a little louder this time.

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you want me to say? You’ve got plenty of toys to entertain yourself with.”

Guiltily Harry thought of the toys in his room. He had never had so many toys before and he was grateful for them, he really was, but he had been playing inside yesterday when they came home from the hospital and the whole of today too. None of the toys seemed very exciting at the moment. Not with gramps in the hospital.

“Can we do something else?” he asked, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

“You are free to play with any of your toys.”

“That’s not what I meant! Can’t we go outside?”

Finally Mr. Snape sighed and looked up. He looked annoyed, but not in the same way that aunt Petunia or uncle Vernon would have had Harry spoken to them that way. Harry tried not to think of them. Mr. Snape was nothing like them anyway, which was why Harry liked him so much.

“Well, it’s not raining any more. What do you want to do?”

“Can we go to the park? Please?”

“The park it is, if you promise to stay within my sight the whole time.”

“I promise, I promise!”

Harry was excited to get out of the house for a bit. Being inside he could not help but think of gramps and worry about him. Gramps had said that he was fine but Harry wasn’t stupid. If the doctors wouldn’t let gramps come home it meant that something was wrong. Besides, gramps hadn’t looked very well either, and his arms had been tired as he hugged Harry.

The park was a welcome distraction. Harry ran ahead as they walked, as he often liked to do. It allowed him to see all of the cool stuff before anyone else. Like that rusty old tin, which was empty but a great deal of fun just kicking around. Or the birds that went flying as soon as they saw him. It was all a big adventure to him. Almost like something out of a fairy tale.

“Don’t go too far,” Mr. Snape cautioned him once they reached the park.

“I won’t!” Harry shouted, picking up a stick which immediately turned into a wand in his imagination.

As Mr. Snape sat down on a bench and continued to read his magazine Harry went to explore the park. The grass was still wet from the rain earlier today but that did not bother Harry.

“Abracadabra!” Harry shouted, imagining a nearby bush as a great, big dragon.

The dragon was protecting a big treasure, which Harry had to get. Yes, that was it. And to get to the treasure he had to defeat the dragon with his amazing magical powers.

“Abracadabra!” he shouted again, pretending to dodge the dragon’s fire.

There were two dragons! No, three! He was surrounded by dragons, all of them protecting the treasure he had to get. He could hear them breathing in, preparing to spout out fire. In the last moment Harry dodged, throwing himself on the ground and rolling away. Unfortunately the ground was tilting and Harry’s roll became wilder than he had thought. He almost fell into the stream before he managed to stop the rolling!

This did not deter Harry in the least though. Laughing he shot to his feet, ready to take on the dragons again when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

It was a frog. Sitting there in the water, next to a rock, almost completely still. Curiously Harry crept closer. The frog was bigger than any frog he had seen before, about four or five inches and greenish-grey in the colour.

Dragons and treasures forgotten Harry dropped his wand and toed closer to the water. The frog still did not move. Could he catch it? Maybe if he was really, really careful and moved fast enough … Just a little closer and he could … a little bit more …

With a cry Harry dove for the frog, accidentally slipping on a stone in the process.

“Harry! What happened?” Mr. Snape called, coming running to see what had happened.

Sputtering Harry emerged from the stream, triumphantly holding on to the struggling frog.

“I got it, I got it! See what I’ve got!”

Proudly he showed the frog to Mr. Snape. Unfortunately Mr. Snape did not look nearly as impressed as Harry thought he should.

“You dove into the stream for a frog?” he asked in a tone that suggested Harry was in big trouble.

“Uh … No? Maybe?”

“Let it go.”

“But I just caught it!”

“It’s a wild animal. You should not have caught it in the first place.”

“But I just wanted to look at it!”

“Then look with your eyes, not your hands.”

Pouting Harry looked from the frog to Mr. Snape. He didn’t want to let the frog go, he wanted to play with it first. And he wasn’t going to hurt it! But Mr. Snape looked very insistent.

“Now!” the man urged.

“Ok,” Harry finally muttered.

He turned back towards the stream and bent down to let the frog go.

“Good. Now we’re going home, to get you out of those wet clothes. Your grandfather will not be happy with me if you get pneumonia.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a disease in the lungs, like a very bad cold.”

“But it’s summer! People don’t get colds in the summer!”

Discretely putting his right hand in his pocket Harry obediently followed Mr. Snape as they headed back home, continuing to ask questions to distract the man from noticing that something was moving in Harry’s pocket.

When they got home Mr. Snape immediately ordered Harry to get into the bathroom and undress. Harry carefully closed the door behind him before he brought the frog out of his pocket.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Frog,” Harry said quietly. “I’ll take you back later; promise.”

Now, how to hide the frog from Mr. Snape? Harry had no delusions; if Mr. Snape found out that Harry had tricked him then he would really be in trouble. But Harry was a curious boy and he had never seen a frog like this one before.

“I’ll just hide you in this,” Harry explained to the frog, bringing out his handkerchief. “It’s clean, I promise. I never use it anyway. Gramps just think I should have it so I don’t wipe my nose on my sleeves and stuff.”

As he explained he wrapped the frog in the handkerchief and placed the little package behind bottles of soap and shampoo in the shower. Just in time, because a moment later Mr. Snape entered the room, holding a set of dry clothes for Harry.

“You haven’t undressed yet? Do you need help?”

“I’m almost six!” Harry objected indignantly. “I can undress myself!”

“Then do so! And dry yourself with a towel before you put on the dry clothes. I’ll prepare some tea while you get changed.”

Mr. Snape left and Harry got started on the task of getting changed. The clothes stuck to his body and Harry had to wrestle them before he could get them off. It quickly turned into a new game. His clothes had been hexed by an evil witch who didn’t want him to have his tea. In order to get his tea he had to wrestle free of the clothes.

Once he had freed himself of the hexed clothes Harry quickly dried himself and threw on his dry clothes, before running downstairs to get his tea. He hoped Mr. Snape had gotten a few of those chocolate chip biscuits! Harry loved those!

It was almost an hour later when he remembered about the frog he had hidden away in his handkerchief. By then he and Mr. Snape were once again sitting in the living room, Harry playing with a bunch of plastic animals and Mr. Snape reading a big book.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Snape asked as Harry sprang to his feet.

“Bathroom!”

He ran the whole way up the stairs, almost threw the door closed and locked it behind him. What if something had happened to the frog?!

Harry’s worries did not lessen as he failed to find the handkerchief. Where was it? He searched behind the bottles he had hidden it behind, went as far as picking them all away. No traces of neither the frog nor the handkerchief. Where could it have gone?

Franticly Harry searched the whole bathroom, to no avail. It wasn’t there!

Panic was quickly getting to Harry, for two reasons. First and foremost he was actually worried about the frog. Harry had been the one to take it from its home and bring it here, which made it Harry’s responsibility to bring it back too. Now the frog was lost somewhere where it had never been before, probably frightened and perhaps hungry too. Harry had not meant for that to happen!

Second, he was also a bit afraid of what Mr. Snape would say if he discovered that Harry had tricked him. Now, Harry wasn’t afraid of Mr. Snape. Not really. It was just that Harry knew that it was bad to lie to and trick adults. For as long as Harry could remember; him being bad always resulted in him hurting. It wasn’t until he came to live with gramps that he realised that things could be different. Gramps didn’t like to punish him, Harry could tell, and that had made him a bit more confident. Perhaps a bit too confident, as it seemed.

“Mr. Frog?” Harry whispered desperately to the empty bathroom.

There was no response.

Where had it gone then? Out the door? Harry gulped. If so, Mr. Snape was sure to find it, which did not bode well for Harry.

Walking as quietly as he could Harry made his way down the corridor on the second floor, looking around for any traces of the frog. Where would it have gone? Where would he have gone if he was a frog in a foreign house? For once Harry’s imagination failed him.

He searched his own bedroom first, simply because that was easiest and felt the least scary. No frog, despite the fact that Harry looked at all the best hiding spots; beneath the bed, in the wardrobe, in the toy chest. Nothing.

So Harry oved on to searching his grandfather’s room and then, reluctantly, his grandfather’s office, where he knew he was not supposed to be on his own. Still no frog.

“Mr. Frog?” Harry said, his voice small. “Please come out? I didn’t mean to make you scared.”

Of course, no frog came forth. Harry looked at the last room he had yet to search upstairs. The guest bedroom, which had once belonged to his aunt and was now where Mr. Snape slept at night. Did he dare to search through it? Thinking about his aunt and the prospect of an angry Mr. Snape Harry decided that he did not.

Perhaps downstairs then?

“What are you doing? Did you get stuck in the bathroom?” Mr. Snape asked, as if on cue.

Harry gulped nervously.

“Please, please, please Mr. Frog …” Harry whispered as he ventured downstairs.

“What took you so long?” Mr. Snape wondered.

Harry shrugged, trying not to look as guilty as he felt. He didn’t think he succeeded very well, because Mr. Snape gave him a strange look.

“Are you ok?” the man asked.

“I’m fine,” Harry lied.

Since Mr. Snape continued to look closely at him Harry walked over to the toys he had been playing with and sat down, pretending to start playing again. As soon as Mr. Snape returned his attention to the book he looked around the room, trying to see if the frog or his handkerchief was somewhere to be found.

The afternoon progressed so slowly it was painful. Harry could not relax where he sat, yet he could not get up and search for the frog without drawing the attention of Mr. Snape. It was awful and Harry felt like he was going to be sick. If only he had let the frog back into the river as Mr. Snape had told him to!

Dinnertime neared and Mr. Snape went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Harry got up as soon as he could and searched the entire living room, crawling behind the sofa and searching through the bookshelves, looking underneath the armchairs and even lifting the pillows. Still nothing.

Finally Mr. Snape called Harry into the kitchen for dinner. Harry really felt like he would throw up then. Poor, poor frog! All alone and frightened somewhere where he had never been before!

That evening Harry did not eat much for dinner, too occupied with his worries about the frog to have much of an appetite.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Snape finally asked, his voice impatient.

Harry startled, almost dropping his fork in the process.

“Nothing!” he lied, hearing his voice come out too loud.

“Do not lie to me boy! Now tell me the truth!”

Boy. Harry didn’t like being called boy, especially not in that tone. It reminded him far too much of uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia, who rarely bothered to actually use his name. Suddenly it seemed very likely that Mr. Snape would be like them now when Harry had been bad.

Fighting against the tears Harry shook his head.

“Something has been bothering you almost all afternoon. Now out with it!”

Again, Harry shook his head. He didn’t know what to say; telling the truth would only make Mr. Snape angry but so would lying to him.

“You will tell me …” Mr. Snape began, standing up.

Harry lost it. He didn’t want Mr. Snape to hurt him!

“’m sorry! Ididn’tmeantolietoyoubutIdidandI’msorry!”

Now surely the blow would fall, when he had admitted what a horrible little boy he was.

“Calm down,” Mr. Snape ordered, his voice calmer than it had been before, for some reason. “Take a deep breath and repeat yourself.”

A warm hand was on Harry’s shoulder, its presence neither threatening nor painful but rather comforting and calming.

“I’m sorry! I lied to you and I didn’t mean to but I did it anyway and I’m sorry!” Harry repeated, a little slower this time.

Surprisingly there was no blow now either.

“What did you lie to me about?”

“About the frog,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t let it go. I put it in my pocket when you weren’t looking.”

Now surely … But Mr. Snape was smiling, and not in a dangerous way! Harry didn’t understand it. At least not until the man explained himself.

“I know. I found your frog in the bathroom when I took care of your clothes.”

Harry gasped. So the man had known all along! Then why didn’t he seem angry? Harry had lied to him, tricked him even! Adults got angry when he did that! Even gramps did!

“I was going to scold you for it,” Mr. Snape explained, “but then I noticed that it had claws on its hind legs. I’m not sure if you noticed those?”

Quietly Harry shook his head. No, he had not noticed that. He had barely had time to look at it at all.

“Well, it does, which got me thinking. Indigenous frogs do not have those, which means that you stumbled upon a rarer species.”

“It is?” Harry repeated questioningly. He knew very little of frogs.

“Indeed. I’ve been trying to find out which specific breed by looking through my encyclopaedia.” 

His curiosity caught, and fear of punishment forgotten at the moment, Harry leaned in closer, wanting to hear more.

“What’d it say?” he asked.

“Do you want to know?” Mr. Snape wondered.

“Yes” Harry nodded eagerly.

“Eat your dinner and I’ll show you afterwards.”

Which totally wasn’t fair because Harry wanted to know now! Still, with most of his worry gone he was suddenly quite hungry, so Harry dug in without too much of a protest.

After dinner Harry helped Mr. Snape put away the dishes before they both moved on to the living room, where Mr. Snape showed Harry the book he had been reading.

“This is a book on potions ingredients,” he explained. “Wizards use all sorts of ingredients in their potions. This particular book deals with frogs, toads, lizards and snakes.”

“Cool!”

“If this frog of yours is of any use in a potion it should be in here. I’ve been skimming it through and I believe this is yours.”

The man pointed to a picture of a frog and a whole lot of text underneath it. Harry didn’t even try to read the text, as it was way too much for him, but he did look at the picture. It did look a bit like the frog he had found.

“What does it say?” he wondered.

“This species of frog is called Xenopus and is from Africa.”

“Africa?” Harry repeated, having only a vague idea of what that was.

“Yes. How it got here is a mystery but I haven’t found any other frog that has claws and no tongue.”

Harry pondered this. His frog was from another country! And Mr. Snape didn’t seem angry with him at all, for some reason.

“Can you use it in a potion?” Harry wanted to know.

“Of course. Its claws are quite valuable actually.”

“So … you’re not mad at me?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Mr. Snape didn’t seem angry, especially when he spoke of how the frog could be used in potions, but Harry still wanted to be sure.

“Not this time. However I do expect to be obeyed the next time I order you to release something.”

“Yes sir!” Harry agreed with a relieved smile.

That very evening Mr. Snape used his wand to transfigure one of the armchairs into an aquarium for the frog, a very amused Harry clapping his hands as he watched. Harry loved magic. It was the best thing in the world, he was sure.

“Xenopus are aquatic,” Mr. Snape explained to him as he filled the aquarium with water spurting from his wand.

“What does that mean?”

“It means they live in the water and don’t really come up on land. We’re lucky this one survived your little kidnapping.”

“Oh,” Harry blushed, ashamed at the realisation that he had almost killed the frog.

“I wonder if there is more than one,” Mr. Snape commented when the aquarium was filled. “Did you see any other frogs, Harry?”

“No, not really.”

“Could you show me exactly where you first saw it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

So the next day they went back to the park and Harry got to show Mr. Snape where he had first seen the mysterious tongue-less, clawed frog. Mr. Snape had brought two fishing rods, which he had transformed into nets.

“Here,” he said, handing Harry one of the nets. “You search further down the stream and I’ll head upstream.”

Happy about this new adventure Harry eagerly gripped the rod of the net.

“Yes sir! If there’s a frog I’ll catch it!”

“Good. Just don’t go too far. And try not to hurt the frog when you catch it.”

With that in mind the two separated, walking up respectively down the stream, searching for frogs. Harry imagined catching hundreds of little frogs; enough to fill the whole aquarium. Perhaps Mr. Snape would have to do more magic then. Harry hoped so. He liked watching the man do magic.

“Come here, froggy, froggy, froggy,” Harry cooed as he slowly made his way down the stream.

Unfortunately it seemed that the frog Harry had caught yesterday had been alone, because Harry saw no other frogs, clawed or otherwise. He was just about to give up and head back up the stream to find Mr. Snape when he heard a splashing sound.

Maybe it was a frog! If Harry could just sneak up on the frog without it noticing, then surely it’d be no problem to catch it! So Harry crouched down to hide in the high grass, slowly creping closer to where he thought the splash had come from.

“I’m bored. Let’s find something else to do.”

“Like what?”

“Get ice cream maybe?”

He froze when he heard the nearby voices. Those voices were familiar to him and had never meant anything good. Suddenly he realised that he had wandered off way too far and that Mr. Snape was nowhere in sight.

“Do you have any money?”

“No. Mom wouldn’t give me any this week after what we did to that Riley-kid.”

“Adams?”

“Nope. Spent it all yesterday. You?”

“No.”

Slowly Harry began to back away as quietly as he possibly could. Martin Palmer, Ryan Adams and Doug Hamilton had always disliked Harry. Ryan’s younger brother Roger were in Harry’s class and had taken an instant dislike to Harry, going as far as telling his brother and his friends that Harry had been bothering him. Harry generally tried avoiding them, seeing as they made Dudley’s attempts at Harry hunting seem like child’s play.  

“This sucks!”

“Yeah. Having no money’s just boring.”

“I’m tired of this. Let’s go somewhere else.”

A stone came flying through the air. Harry just managed to dodge it but in doing so he stepped on a twig. Horrified he froze in place. Had they heard him?

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Someone’s hiding in the grass. Over there.”

“Where?”

“Over there!”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Maybe it’s just an animal or something?”

“Maybe …”

Heart beating hard in his chest Harry tried to breathe as quietly as possible and stay as still as he could, praying silently that the bullies would not spot him. He could hear them searching the grass just a little bit away from him.

“Let’s get out of here. It was probably nothing.”

“No, I’m sure someone’s hiding in here.”

“Then maybe it’s a hobo or something. Come on Palmer, let’s get going!”

Just then Harry’s green eyes met the blue ones of Martin Palmer.

“Hey, it’s Potter!”

Harry did not wait to hear what they said next. He bolted, running as fast as he possibly could back the same way he had come. If he could just get to Mr. Snape before the bullies caught up with him …

“Potter!” he could hear them shouting behind him.

“Come on Potter! We’re bored, come play with us!”

They were catching up to him. Being fifth graders they were both bigger and faster than Harry and usually had no problem getting to him. And if they got to him …

Desperate times called for desperate measures, Harry decided and abandoned his pride.

“Mr. Snape!” he called, as loud as he possibly could. “MR. SNAAPEE!”

“No one’s going to hear you out here, Potter!”

A tackle from behind sent Harry flying and suddenly he was on his hands and knees. The sudden pain caused tears to flow to his eyes and before he could wipe them away he had been dragged back to his feet and turned to face his pursuers.

“Got you now, Potter!”

“Thought you’d be able to …”

“Harry? Where are you? Harry?”

The older boys froze, much like Harry had earlier.

“Harry?”

Mr. Snape appeared from behind a couple of trees, looking big and menacing and comfortingly adult! Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Crap!”

“Come on!”

“Let’s get going!”

The hands holding Harry up threw him away like he had been a dirty rag and the three boys went running, proverbial tails between their legs. Left lying on the ground was Harry.

“Here!” Harry called, waving an arm in the air.

“There you are! I told you not to go too far! And what happened to you?”

Not knowing what to say Harry just shrugged. The movement hurt and Harry could not contain a wince, which made Mr. Snape wrinkle his eyebrows as he studied Harry closer.

“You’re hurt. Let me see your hands.”

Obediently Harry held up his hands. There were abrasions, from where he had tried to catch himself when he was tackled. Similar ones were on his knees, and those were even bleeding a little.

“Did those boys I saw running away do this to you?” Mr. Snape asked quietly.

Startled at the question Harry could only stare for a moment before he nodded wordlessly. He hadn’t thought that Mr. Snape had seen the other boys.

“I’m sorry. I should have kept a better eye on you,” Mr. Snape said quietly, as he inspected the abrasions on Harry’s knees. “If I had they wouldn’t have been able to get to you.”

At that Harry could not help but shake his head in objections.

“I walked off too far,” he admitted. “It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t. You’re five. It’s my responsibility as an adult to make sure that you are alright.”

“I’m almost six you know.”

“You are still a child.”

Which Harry wasn’t going to object to. He just didn’t want Mr. Snape blaming himself for Harry getting hurt when none of it would have happened had Harry stayed closer to Mr. Snape, like he had been told to.

“This is going to feel a bit strange,” Mr. Snape warned, pulling out his wand.

He spoke a strange word that Harry didn’t catch and there was a strange, tingling sensation at Harry’s knees. It didn’t hurt but it definitely did feel strange. Then Mr. Snape spoke another word and the pain disappeared almost completely.

“Thanks,” Harry said.

“No problem. Give me your hands.”

Quickly Mr. Snape repeated the process with Harry’s hand, managing to take away almost all of the pain Harry had been in. He still felt like crying after the scare with the three older boys but Harry was determined not to give in to that urge. Now when Mr. Snape had taken away the pain he really did not want to cry, or Mr. Snape might think him a baby.

“There. Let’s go back home and I can get some healing balm on those abrasions.”

“What’d you do?” Harry asked as he was pulled up to a standing position and then gently guided back onto the road.

“A numbing spell against the pain and a disinfecting spell to make sure they won’t get infected.”

“You can do that sort of thing with magic?”

“Yes. It’s not quite as reliable as a potion but it should do the trick.”

Perhaps it was because Harry had been injured, or perhaps there was some other reason that Harry did not know about, but Mr. Snape seemed unusually patient and gentle with Harry. He even held Harry’s hand as they walked! The prideful part of Harry wanted to pull away and point out that he was certainly too big to hold hands in public, but another part of him was happy about the comfort it gave him.

“I forgot my net,” Harry suddenly remembered, realising that he must have dropped in when he was chased.

“We can go back for it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. The most important thing now is to get you some medical treatment.”

Which was a rather new thought to Harry; one that needed some pondering. He still wasn’t that used to people putting his comfort or safety first.

“I didn’t catch any frogs,” he said a few minutes later.

“That’s alright.”

“I didn’t even see any.”

“Again, that’s alright. I managed to catch one,” Mr. Snape said, patting his pocket.

“But what if there are others?”

“Perhaps there are no others. Their species isn’t supposed to live here anyway.”

“But what if there are? Shouldn’t we reunite Mr. Frog with his friends?”

“Mr. Frog?”

“I didn’t know what else to call him.”

“Hm, makes some sort of sense, I guess. As for your question, we could go back tomorrow and search for any remaining friends of Mr. Frog’s.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want him to be lonely.” 

Mr. Snape made a sound which Harry did not know how to interpret. It didn’t matter though, as they had reached the house and Mr. Snape was now ushering him inside so that he could heal the abrasions.

Once they were inside the door Mr. Snape waved his wand and spoke again, and a moment later a small jar came flying from upstairs.

“This is a simple healing balm,” Mr. Snape explained as he helped Harry sit down on the couch. “It might sting a little at first, but then it’s going to feel cool and help you heal.”

Gently he applied the balm. Harry sat as still as he could, enjoying the ministrations. It did hurt a little as it went on and Harry didn’t like being hurt, but he did like it when people cared about him when he got hurt. The Dursleys had never cared much if Harry had scrubbed his knees or hit his head or anything. It was nice when people cared about him.

“There,” Mr. Snape said once he was finished. “You should be fine in an hour or so, considering it’s nothing too serious.”

“Thanks.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“You were wrong,” Severus stated later that evening.

“Huh?”

A confused Harry looked up from the picture he had been drawing; apparently a depiction of him catching frogs though Severus thought it looked quite a lot like any other picture the boy had ever drawn.

“You were wrong,” Severus repeated.

“About what?”

“About Mr. Frog.”

“What about him?”

Standing up the boy came over to where Severus was standing by the aquarium, a book in hand as he studied the two frogs currently occupying it.

“He’s a she.”

“What?”

“Among the xenopus the females are larger than the males,” Severus explained. “The frog you caught is larger than the one I caught, which makes yours the female.”

“So Mr. Frog is really Mrs. Frog?”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

For a moment the boy seemed to ponder that, curiously looking at the frogs.

“So what are we going to do with Mr. and Mrs. Frog?” he asked after a moment.

“I believe I’ll keep them,” Severus said. “Muggles would probably classify them as pests anyway, since they are not native to the local fauna.”

“We can keep them? Yay!”

“Besides, if they bred I could make some extra money selling the offspring to the local apothecaries,” he added as an afterthought.

Certainly the local apothecaries would appreciate not having to go through the process of importing the frogs, as such a procedure were expensive and potentially harmful to the ingredients. As far as Severus knew there were no breeders of these frogs in the UK, which would enable him to make some decent money off of it.

“You’re going to sell their babies?” Harry wondered, sounding aghast.

“If they have any, then yes.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

Severus didn’t even look at the boy, refusing to acknowledge his little tantrum. Instead he fed the frogs.

“Because it’s their babies!” the boy argued heatedly. “You can’t take them away from their parents!”

“Their parents won’t mind. Frogs lay eggs. They don’t need their parents the way humans do.”

“How do you know? Maybe they really do want to stay with their parents?”

With a sigh Severus put away the jar with frog food and turned towards the boy, noticing the stubborn expression. The stance and the fist was definitely a Potter-trait but the way he was also pouting with his lip was entirely Lily. Severus couldn’t even bring himself to feel very irritated, despite the boy’s irrational and emotion-based arguments.

“Bedtime,” he said quietly. “Go get ready. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“I don’t want to go to bed!”

“Too bad, because it’s bedtime.”

“But I’m not tired!”

“Go get changed and brush your teeth,” he ordered, his voice growing firmer.

He could visibly tell the moment the boy gave in, shoulders relaxing a little as he looked away in defeat.

“Fine. But I don’t need tucking in!”

With those final words the boy stormed away, stomping his feet all the way. Severus let him, for now.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

To his chagrin Harry fell asleep before Mr. Snape came to tuck him in. He realised though, just before sleep overtook him, that it had been two days since he had seen his grandfather and he almost hadn’t worried at all. Perhaps Mr. Snape wasn’t so bad after all; even if he had talked about selling Mr. and Mrs. Frog’s babies.