Snape and McGonagall spoke briefly after Harry fell asleep, but within half an hour Snape had bid McGonagall farewell and adjourned to Spinner's End with the still-slumbering Harry.

With the many hesitations prompted by the excess of caution typical of any new parent, Snape settled Harry on the couch and slowly, oh, so slowly, dressed the child in a pair of pajamas shrunk down to his size, stopping every time Harry sighed or twitched in his sleep. Then, once certain that he had not inadvertently woken the child, went upstairs to prepare a bedroom. It had been years since he had entered his childhood bedroom and longer still since the chamber had been giving a thorough cleaning. It took nearly ten minutes to vanish the dust, replace the musty bedsheets and curtains with clean ones, and to see to it that the stale smell did not linger. He was considering how best to rearrange the furniture when there was a thump followed by a cry of pain.

"Harry!" He bolted out of the room.

After racing down the stairs, he found the child in a heap on the floor about three feet from the couch where he had been asleep. Green eyes stared up at Snape with—was that fear or pain? He couldn't be certain. Dropping to his knees he began checking for injuries.

"Are you hurt?"

Harry shook his head, his breath shuddering in silent sobs. Snape continued his inspection, though with decreased urgency. It did not take overlong to satisfy himself that his charge was unharmed.

"What happened?"

"I f-fell," he stammered. Snape realized that this was the first time he was hearing Harry's voice aside from a whispered 'no' a few hours ago, a whisper that was so quiet that it could barely be counted as speech. The child's voice was was oddly guttural, and Snape wondered idly if that was an aftereffect of having not used his human vocal cords for so long.

"I see. Well, no harm done. Let's get you up then, shall we? I just finished preparing your room." Snape reached out to assist Harry to his feet, but the boy cowered back. Snape froze, hand half outstretched, fighting the irrational sting engendered by the apparent rejection.

"No. Can't…walk."

A breath he hadn't realized he was holding rushed out of Snape's lungs as he recognized the reason behind Harry's withdrawal. Harry, who had been watching closely, appeared nonplussed by this. What reaction had the child expected? Was he in need of reassurance? The children in Slytherin tended to confide in each other (and only when necessary, at that) and almost never sought him out for any issue that was remotely personal. How should he go about it? The only being he had comforted with any regularity was Erebus. But then, Harry was Erebus, he reminded himself. Perhaps the same tactics would work.

Slowly, he bridged the gap between them, resting his hand on Harry's head before stroking his messy mop of hair back once or twice. Just like Erebus would have done, Harry leaned into the caress. "It's alright, Harry. Minerva, that is, Professor McGonagall, said to expect as much."

The boy's eyes widened, and Snape gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Yes, according to her, anyone who spends a prolonged amount of time in one form, be it human or animal, tends to face a period of adjustment when they next transform. It will pass, and is no reason for concern."

"Oh…good." Harry sagged in relief, leaning up against Snape's side.

Snape also felt rush of relief upon realizing that, against all odds, he had said the right thing. "Now, would you like me to help you to your room?" Harry's stomach chose that moment to grumble. "Or perhaps you'd prefer some dinner first."

H*~*P

The previous night had gone well in Snape's estimation. Despite some difficulty in manipulating the utensils (and the resulting but entirely predictable mess), Harry had eaten a substantial, if strange, dinner consisting largely of foods that Erebus was not allowed to consume. Harry discovered that he loved cheese, avocados, ice cream, and chocolate, for example, and that he was not a fan of curry, shellfish, rhubarb, or onions.

Despite his earlier nap, Harry had had an exhausting and emotional day, and combined with a full stomach, he fell asleep soon after dinner. This left Snape with several hours to construct a plan. Numerous floo calls and a visit from Flitwick later, Snape had finally retired, musing on how it was only that morning that he had practically run to Hogsmeade seeking veterinary care for Erebus.

One of the tasks Snape had completed before retiring was to order a variety of things Harry would have need of. The first parcel arrived at breakfast the next morning, a rush delivery that Snape had paid exorbitant fees to arrange. Harry looked up curiously from where he had been chasing some eggs around his plate attempting to get them onto his fork while Snape inventoried the contents.

"Professor McGonagall is due to arrive in a few minutes, Harry. I thought that while she and I spoke, you might amuse yourself with these." He pushed the parcel across the table and watched as Harry inspected top volume from the pile of books. It was a children's book titled Casey the Curious Crup boasting a brightly colored drawing of a smiling crup. The crup was wagging its forked tail and bounding back and forth on the cover with what Snape felt was altogether too much energy. Harry looked disgusted.

"I'm…not…a baby!" It seemed that Harry's stammer had survived the night.

"I am aware of that, I assure you. Yesterday I hardly had time to ascertain your proficiency in reading, did I?" Snape said, disliking having to state what he felt should be obvious.

"No, but I'm not…stupid…either," Harry insisted, attempting a glare. "I paid…attention…in your classes, you know."

Snape fought against the burgeoning frustration. He had not expected Harry to take umbrage at this. He chose his next words with caution. "Given the number of accidents your interventions have prevented, I could hardly fail to notice that much. I would wager that your potions knowledge is unrivaled amongst your peers."

Harry calmed somewhat at the complement, and Snape continued, "However, you must realize that your education has not been…well balanced, shall we say. In order to know how to proceed, we must first determine what you know, which is precisely why I ordered books of varying difficulties. I want you to look through them until you find one that interests you or presents a challenge to read. You need not read that particular book if you do not wish," Snape gestured at the offending volume. "In any case, should you have difficulty, all the books are charmed to speak any word you do not recognize; you need only tap the word twice with your index finger."

By the end of this speech, Snape's voice fairly dripped with scorn. He did not appreciate the tendency of others to expect the worst from him. In normal circumstances he could ignore it, caring little for the opinions of those too foolish to put aside their own misconceptions and prejudices. However, it stung coming from Harry who, after four years in his care as Erebus, ought to know better. He added a scowl for good measure, and Harry looked down and began to inspect the other books that had been delivered.

When Harry spoke next, he did so without raising his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just…thought—I…figured you thought…I'm sorry."

Harry's embarrassed flush ad obvious remorse broke through Snape's irritation, although the feeling returned shortly afterward directed at himself. That could have been handled better. After all, he was the adult, and he ought to act the part.

"We will need to ascertain your current aptitude in a number of subjects so that your schooling can continue in a more traditional manner. There are still two years before you are due to attend Hogwarts, and I will do whatever it necessary to see to it that you catch up with your peers. However, this exercise is as new to me as it is to you, and there are bound to be some moments of confusion and consternation on both our parts. I would be grateful if you made the effort not to assume any actions I take that you find less than pleasing stem from malice on my part."

Harry blanched at that. "I'm s-sorry. I'll…do better, I promise."

Blast. And once again, he got it wrong. How had he thought he could handle this? He dropped his head into his hands with a sigh, taking several calming breaths.

"And now it is my turn to apologize. In exchange for your promise, I will offer one of my own; I will endeavor to control my temper. I should not have been so harsh with you just now."

"Oh." Harry looked up, the wonder in his eyes making it clear that he had not expected an apology. "Th-thank you."

"Yes, now," Snape coughed, looking for a way to move past the embarrassingly sentimental moment they had just shared, "Professor McGonagall should be here shortly. Will you look through the books as I asked?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape nodded in approval. "I will call for you if your presence is required. I expect Professor McGonagall will wish to greet you, at the very least. Otherwise, you are to remain here unless you have need of something."

Harry appeared almost excited now that he had spotted several novels, Snape saw. If the boy was eager to master learning, it was all to the good. The boy looked up to affirm that he had heard the instructions and then returned to the task of selecting a book.

"Excellent." And then, because it struck him that this was something he would have said to Erebus in a similar situation, he added, "Good boy."

Harry beamed.

McGonagall arrived by floo several minutes later and Snape invited her to sit, carefully hide all signs of how much he was anticipating this conversation.

"And how is Harry this morning?" she asked once they had exchanged greetings.

"Well enough, I believe, given the circumstances. Although I do hope you can assist me through answering some questions I have."

"I don't know how much help I can be, having raised no children of my own, but I will certainly try," she said, settling herself more comfortably on the sofa and accepting the cup of tea Snape offered.

"Is it safe for Harry to transform, or does he require supervision for a period of time?"

McGonagall's brow wrinkled. "Transform? Transform what?"

Snape suppressed a smirk. This was intriguing. "I am speaking of the animagus transformation, of course."

She set down her teacup with a clink, lips thinning in they way they did when she was angry. "Severus, the boy is not even nine years old. Don't you dare put that idea into his head. Do you know how difficult and dangerous the animagus transformation can be?"

The smirk could not be repressed any longer, and McGonagall's reaction to his expression embodied what Snape felt was the epitome of Gryffindor thought processes.

"So help me, Severus Snape, if I hear you have even suggested attempting the animagus transformation before Harry has completed his O.W.L.s I will hex you beyond the ability of even your potions to cure!" She got to her feet as she shouted, brandishing her wand at him.

"Harry Potter is an animagus, and his form is Erebus, the palm cockatoo." He spoke each word clearly and then leaned forward in fascinated concern as he watched the emotions flicker across McGonagall's face.

Confusion. Shock. Understanding.

Snape handed her the teacup she had earlier abandoned and urged her to take a sip. She did so without resistance.

"Fidelius?" she asked, when she had collected herself.

Snape inclined his head. "Forgive me for not telling you at once. Fillius informed me that he could not be certain how well the charm worked as the secret in question is, in essence, several secrets. Speaking with somebody who had prior knowledge of the information before the charm was preformed is apparently the most reliable test." He felt a twinge of remorse as McGonagall took another bracing sip of her tea. Having never seen the effects of the Fidelius Charm on someone with prior knowledge of the secret, he had not realized it would affect her so dramatically.

"I cannot condone this, Severus. He should be registered."

That was not the response he had expected; he had prepared himself for anger due to his earlier interrogation, not questions regarding the legality of his actions. Still, he had considered the ramifications of this plan the previous evening and was ready with an answer. "No."

McGonagall leaned forward, fixing him with a stern look that had, in his student days, inspired more than a touch of trepidation. "You wish to condemn him to Azkaban should he be discovered?"

"First, he is a minor under my care; the court would find fault with me, not him. Second, how do you propose he would be discovered under a functioning Fidelius Charm?"

"It is against the law," she insisted.

"And the Order of the Phoenix is a vigilante group, yet you are a member."

"I—You—That is entirely different!" she sputtered.

"How so?" Snape replied, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip of his tea. His relaxed pose was a calculated one, and sure enough, his calculations were on point. McGonagall shifted from anger to an attempt to sway him with a logical explanation. One he was certain he would have no trouble dismantling.

"The bureaucracy of the Ministry was a hindrance in the fight against You-Know-Who. The Order was instrumental in the war and saved countless lives."

"True." He conceded.

"Then you see how this is so very different. He must be registered."

"You are aware, I think, that Harry's placement with his relatives provided him with a necessary sanctuary from the Dark Lord and his followers?" He waited for McGonagall to nod before continuing. "That refuge is now nonexistent, yet the danger remains. If Harry transformed into a cat, well that would be different. There are many cats, even in the muggle world. He would be able to hide if necessary, even if registered. But how many palm cockatoos are there in all of England? I looked them up after bonding with Erebus. They are rare, even among parrot enthusiasts.

"By insisting Harry register, you are putting his life at very real risk. Should the Dark Lord show even a hint of regaining his power, every Death Eater still at large will see killing or capturing Harry Potter as a way to prove their loyalty never wavered despite having denied him convincingly enough to avoid imprisonment. Harry must have a refuge from that, and from the Dark Lord himself." He was pleased to see McGonagall looking taken aback.

With a vindictiveness that Erebus almost certainly would have nipped him for, he concluded, "So explain to me exactly why you think it is permissible, laudable even, to join a vigilante group to fight a war, while simultaneously finding it unacceptable to take a decidedly non-violent measure to protect a child who has been orphaned by that same war."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him, persisting for several moments in righteous Gryffindor anger before her shoulders slumped in defeat. "You have made your point, Severus. I will not oppose you on this."

Snape bowed his head in acknowledgment of this concession, knowing how difficult it must be for her. McGonagall had a keen sense of right and wrong, and it took a great deal at times to get her to see the grey areas in life, whereas he lived most of his life in the grey. Out of the goodness of his heart, he even refrained from pointing out that, as he was the Secret-Keeper, the strongest opposition she could mount would be a constant badgering for him to change his mind.

He then steered the conversation back to the business of the day. "About his transformation, then?"

"What? Oh, yes. He should not require supervision. Achieving the animagus form is like, oh, like building a road. It is a great deal of work to survey the best pathway, level the ground, and lay down the proper surfaces. However, once the road is built, traveling along it is simple. Now that he has achieved his form and reversed the transformation back to human, the odds of any difficulty drop to nearly zero absent factors such as severe illness or injury.

"Whether he will wish to attempt it after last night, though, is a different matter altogether."

Snape made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. He would not be in the least surprised if Harry exhibited trepidation about his transformation. As he had said earlier, however, the form was an important refuge for him, and Snape was determined that Harry be able to make use of it before the start of the next school year.

H*~*P

The following week was busy and trying for Snape. One of the reasons it was so trying was that Harry only took a day or two to acclimate back to being human. His stammer all but vanished as he became more comfortable speaking, although the guttural nature of his voice lingered, and shortly after he was walking unaided he could be found running through the back garden—Snape had forbidden him from running in the house after the first such episode resulted in a broken lamp and several painful bruises for them both. Erebus had always alternated between utter fixation on a task and complete distractibility, and it seemed Harry was much the same, although if that was his true self or a lingering effect of being Erebus for so long, only time would tell. Whatever the cause, attempting to keep the child focused during his unpredictable bursts of energy was maddening.

For another thing, no matter how many times he reassured Harry that transforming from Erebus had only hurt due to having outgrown his clothes while in parrot form for nearly four years, Harry refused to even attempt to become the bird again. Snape had assured McGonagall that he would inform Dumbledore that Harry had been located—not for Dumbledore's sake but for that of the people who would otherwise be wasting their time searching—but he was hoping to be able to wait to do so until Harry could transform. He did not really expect Dumbledore to attempt anything unscrupulous regarding Harry at this point, but it was the way of Slytherin to always have an escape plan, and Harry's ability to hide as Erebus was that plan. However, the man would likely have to be told something, and soon.

Equally frustrating, if in a different way, was attempting to determine Harry's academic standard. The boy had a sharp mind, no doubt about it, but that mind had been engaged inconsistently. The result was a haphazard collection of knowledge that left Snape at a bit of a loss on how to continue the child's education to greatest effect. Harry was adept in the theory of potions, for instance, easily identifying ingredients, preparation methods, and brewing techniques. However, in subjects such as history (both magical and muggle) and geography he had no knowledge at all.

Furthermore, his claim of being able to read was only partially accurate. Unless the word might reasonably be expected to be written on the board during a potions class, the chances of Harry being able to work out its pronunciation and meaning were about one in four. Yet the boy refused to read primers that were on his level, not that Snape could blame him. "Casey the crup likes to play/but Billy, his boy, says, 'Not today,'" was hardly a gripping story line for an eight year-old. So day after day, Harry fought to read one of the more age-appropriate novels Snape had bought while Snape fought to keep Harry on task for more than five minutes at a time.

At least when the child was paying attention, which was less often than Snape would like, Harry had an impressive capacity for memorization.

"It's not as though I could ask people to repeat something or take notes or anything," he explained with a shrug when Snape had commented on it.

The resulting educational frustrations prompted several arguments between them and more than one tantrum on Harry's part, all making Snape wonder what ever made him imagine that he might be capable of caring for the child. But those few, precious moments of perfect understanding, like when Harry's eyes lit up with understanding of a new idea, gave him the strength to persevere.

However, there were other concerns growing in urgency as the days passed. The summer staff meeting was rapidly approaching, and Snape still had to decide what, if anything, to tell Dumbledore.