In a corner of Snape's small book-lined study, on a shelf that careful placement of the lighting had ensured lay in constant shadow, sat a box covered in over seven years of dust and sealed with more enchantments than most Gringott's vaults could boast. Snape spelled away the dust and levitated the box to his desk where he proceeded to stare at it, his face carefully neutral despite there being no one else in the room to witness whatever emotions he was suppressing. He hated this box, despised the very idea that he owned its contents, and loathed the fact that he could not risk disposing of it. He was also disgusted at how mere objects, only one of which was in any way magical, held so much sway over him that he had yet to raise his wand to begin the process of unlocking them.

Chiding himself once more for his cowardice, he drew his wand and cast the first spell. Five minutes later, he heard the distinctive pop of the latch releasing. With a hand that was steady only because he willed it to be so, he opened the lid and met the obscene gaze of a grotesque skull mask nestled on a bed of black robes.

There was no stopping the shiver of fear that arced down his spine. Nor could he prevent the twist in his gut engendered by self-disgust. He had once been proud to wear this uniform, to serve the one who bestowed it upon him, and had, in the name of gaining favor in the ranks, ultimately lead to the demise of the best friend he had ever had.

Putting those thoughts aside—as much as they ever could be—he ignored both the mask and the robes to withdraw an unadorned silver band. A quick incantation revealed the spell was still active, not surprising given the strength and skill of the wizard who had cast it. Task complete, Snape shut the box, the protective spells automatically reengaging, and sent it back to its shelf before striding out of the room.

"Today is, as you know, the staff meeting at Hogwarts," he announced as he entered the kitchen where Harry was reading. The child looked up from his book but said nothing. "I had thought you would attend as Erebus…"

"No!" Harry broke in, jumping to his feet, knocking his book into a glass of water and causing both to tumble to the floor. "No, I won't do it! You can't make me!"

Snape fixed his charge with a stern look, prompting the child to sink back into his seat, though the anger and rebellion were still writ plain on his face. He took his time vanishing the spilled water, cleaning and refilling the glass, and drying the book, but Harry's ire did not appear to diminish.

Satisfied, at least, that he would not be interrupted again, Snape sat down across from Harry. "As I was saying, I had thought you would accompany me as Erebus, but as that seems unlikely, I have had to come up with another solution. Can I trust you to keep yourself out of trouble for a few hours?"

At Harry's age, Snape had sometimes been without competent adult supervision for days, but Harry had less than five years experience with being human, and most of those years were beyond the reach of his memory. Snape was reluctant to leave him, yet there was little else that could be done. The only people entrusted with the twin secrets of Harry's identity and location would also be at the meeting and were therefore unavailable to watch him. He had no house elf, and he would not trust an elf bonded to another. No, if Harry could not come as Erebus, he would have to stay."

"Yeah, I can…I mean, yes." Harry quickly amended; Snape had been working with him on both diction and proper speech.

"Good. You are to remain here, then. And I want you to take this." Snape handed Harry the ring.

Harry accepted the tarnished loop of metal and studied it, turning it over and over in his hands.

"Don't just stare at it, put it on," Snape said somewhat more snappishly than he had intended. It inspired the desired result, though. Harry tried the ring on several of his fingers before leaving it on his right thumb, where it appeared to fit well enough to at least not be at risk of falling off.

"That is a portkey. If there is an emergency—not that you are bored or lonely but a real emergency such as an injury, or you for any reason feel that you are not safe—just tap the ring three times with a finger and say espion. It will bring you to our quarters in Hogwarts. If you are injured, seek out help, otherwise I will expect you to wait there for me."

That ridiculous password had been the Dark Lord's not so subtle attempt at humor. Spy, indeed. When Snape had begun to act as a spy, Dumbledore had wanted to supply him with a portkey, but couldn't as the risk of the Dark Lord detecting it was too high. In one of his more clever moments, if he did say so himself, Snape had convinced the Dark Lord to provide it instead. Snape had lamented that he could no longer attend raids without risking his position as a spy on Dumbledore, as he could not simply apparate back to the castle and claim he had been there all along. Of course, he was willing to abstain from the raids out of deference to his lord, he had said, given that his position as a spy at Hogwarts was too important to risk on a raid, but he wished he could be of further service. But perhaps an emergency portkey could be made that would allow him to serve more fully.

A muscle in Snape's arm twitched in remembered pain at the curses he had suffered for daring to make the request, but the Dark Lord had ultimately been flattered by Snape's subservience and pleased with his apparent lust for violence and had thus created the portkey. That his handiwork had first protected a spy in his camp and would now protect Harry Potter appealed to Snape's own dark sense of humor more than the Dark Lord choosing the word spy to activate the portkey ever had.

"Espion," Harry repeated. "Okay."

"Very well then. Lunch is in the refrigerator. Behave yourself just as you would if I were in the lab brewing. Better, even."

"I will, I promise."

"I will want to discuss your lessons when I return, so do not dawdle."

"I won't."

Snape opened his mouth to give more advice, then snapped it shut as he realized he was stalling. Instead he ruffled Harry's hair and tried not to be too shocked when he received a hug in return. As he stepped into the floo and his sitting room spun out of sight, Snape considered that this day would either be a milestone for Harry or a major mistake. Unfortunately for his nerves, only time would tell which.

He stepped out on the other end to a greeting from a smiling Dumbledore, a man whom he had last seen storming from this very room in a rage. This was going to be a long, difficult afternoon.

H*~*P

It took over two hours for all the mind-numbing business of the staff meeting to be completed. Everybody was introduced to Neil Newberry, the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The book lists were finalized. Schedules were arranged, and yet again Dumbledore had insisted on putting the Slytherins and Gryffindors together for potions. And a number of other matters essential to the efficient running of a boarding school were discussed.

This was followed immediately by the further tedium of the Head of House meeting, although for the first time in years the discussion was at least limited to Hogwarts matters and did not include anything about searching for Harry Potter. Still, selecting prefects, scheduling their patrols, and so on really should not take this long. He had selected the Slytherin prefects before leaving for the summer and had even had secondary options should Dumbledore disapprove of his choice (which he had yet to do, but Snape liked to be prepared).

Eventually the meeting did draw to a conclusion, and casual conversation took over the more ordered proceedings. He had a brief word with Professor McGonagall before making his way over to where Dumbledore was just finishing a conversation with Professor Sprout.

"Headmaster, a private word, if you would?"

"Of course, Severus."

They walked to his office, Dumbledore for once not attempting to fill the time with meaningless chatter to Snape's great relief.

The door to the spiral staircase had barely shut behind them when Snape spoke, needing to seize control of the conversation.

"I have located Harry Potter."

Dumbledore, who had been in the middle of gesturing to the pair of comfortable armchairs near the fire, froze. "What…when?"

It was not often that Snape had the opportunity to see Dumbledore off balance, and he took a moment to savor the experience, settling himself into a chair before answering. "About a fortnight ago."

Given how Dumbledore relaxed at that, finally taking his own seat, Snape thought the man might have suspected he had found the boy before their argument and purposefully neglected to say anything. For a moment, he considered taking offense at the headmaster's lack of trust, but rejected the idea on the basis that the suspicion was entirely reasonable. If their places were reversed, Snape would have harbored the same suspicions.

"Where? Is he well?"

"Yes, he is well, and his situation was not objectinable."

"How did you discover him? Tell me everything." Dumbledore sat back, his attitude a familiar one that reminded Snape of reporting during his spy days. There was one difference though. Today, the casual assumption that Dumbledore had every right to know the entire tale made Snape bristle inwardly, and it was difficult to keep his eyes from narrowing into a disdainful glare.

"Then I shall begin by informing you that your method of searching for the boy would never have succeeded, and my being n the right position to identify him was entirely coincidental. His accidental magic had seen fit to conceal him in a way that he was not recognized, despite having been taken in by a wizarding household only a few months after his initial disappearance. The involvement of his accidental magic in such a way, I feel compelled to point out, supports my assertions that all was not well at his relatives' home and that he left of his own accord."

"Yet you are not certain of the circumstances?" Dumbledore's raised eyebrows conveyed his continued skepticism.

"I have not yet had the opportunity to make inquiries of such a sensitive nature." He would have to ask soon, he had known that for several days at least, but he felt that Harry had enough to deal with in learning to be human again to add in what was bound to be an unpleasant discussion.

"Very well. Please inform me when you have done so."

It was phrased as a request, but once again Dumbledore's tone implied absolute confidence in his right to the information he sought. Snape made a noncommittal noise that the headmaster seemed to accept as an affirmative.

"Aside from that, you say he is well. What of his situation?"

"Despite the recent upheaval in his life, young Mr. Potter is a happy, healthy, and inquisitive child. His education has not been so well managed as I would have preferred, but I have put measures in place to rectify that. I have no doubt any deficiency in his schooling will be suitably rectified and he will come to Hogwarts well-prepared."

Dumbledore nodded, looking pleased at that information. "And what are your plans to see to his safety?"

Did the old fool actually expect Snape to share his plans? As easily as that? And to think, Snape had more than once been surprised that the man was not a Slytherin. The man surely had to have noticed that Snape was avoiding some topics and providing very little information of use in most of the others. Still, he did not wish to completely alienate his employer.

"I have seen to it that the house he resides in is well protected. It has the same spells and protections I use on my own home, and I will likely add a few more over the coming weeks. In addition, I have placed his true identity under a Fidelius, making it impossible to match with the one he assumed."

"Fidelius, Severus? I was unaware that your skill in delicate charms work extended to such a complex spell."

"I am flattered that you assume that I was the one who cast it, headmaster, rather than a member of the household where he is residing, Headmaster," Snape deflected. He did not wish to lie to Dumbledore, but he was not averse to misleading him with the truth.

"Am I correct to infer from your tone that you have no intentions of sharing the secret with me?"

"At the moment, I judge it best that as few people as possible know. Given my vow to protect the boy, I trust you will respect my decision in this."

"Ah, yes, your vow. I had hoped we would have the opportunity to speak of that. It was an impressive feat of magic, Severus, although I regret that you felt it was necessary."

Seeing as that was not an actual apology, Snape merely sat and waited for the headmaster to continue.

"I imagine that your words were as binding as an unbreakable vow."

"Filius has been assisting me with my research into the matter, and we have found no reason to think otherwise." And a multitude of reasons to think that Dumbledore was correct, but that hardly needed to be shared.

The headmaster nodded, stroking his beard. "Should you find yourself in need of assistance fulfilling that vow, I would like to offer my support."

"Headmaster, I…" Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I thank you for your offer, however I am hesitant to accept."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, but Snape raised a hand, silently requesting the opportunity to explain himself.

"You are a general, and as such, you are obliged to keep the broader impacts of all your actions in mind. Your decisions impact the course of the war, and I do not envy you that responsibility. However, those decisions also determine the course of individual lives, Dumbledore, and I fear you cannot help but forget sometimes that that a rockslide might be begun by a single pebble.

"I do understand that if you spent all your time worrying about the pebbles, you'd never be able to make a decision. But that is why you have people to advise you. People such as myself. And on this topic, you ought to have listened to me. I know firsthand how being maltreated at home can twist a child's outlook. How might things have been different if I had come from a supportive household and did not feel the driving need to prove myself? How might things have been different if Hogwarts had truly been the haven of safety I had hoped for rather than a nest of disapproving peers where bullying went unpunished?"

Dumbledore's expression was disdainful and his tone biting as he replied, "And so you took the Mark because of the actions of others and through no fault of your own?"

"No!" Snape slammed his open palm down on the arm of his chair, the thwack resounding loudly enough to make Fawkes look up from where he had been preening himself near Dumbledore's desk. "You misunderstand me. I made my choices and I must live with the consequences, as must we all. There is no good to be found in blaming others for your own misdeeds.

"However, it does no good to deny the truth in the pattern either. Under different circumstances, I might have chosen a different path—a lighter path. I do not want to see Potter face those same circumstances, and you could not have guaranteed his safety from his relatives had you sent him back. A mistreated child seeking approval may welcome the twisted version of it offered in the darkest corners of our world. What would you have done if the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord chose instead to join him?"

The old man looked away from the full force of Snape's glare, shaking his head. "In this, you are more knowledgable than myself, it is true. I should not have dismissed you when you attempted to warn me." Now Dumbledore looked up and Snape could see the unshed tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. "You have my most sincere apologies, Severus. And my word that I will not oppose your attempts to protect Harry."

It was like a weight was lifted off his chest. "Thank you, Albus. And I would welcome your support, however before accepting your aid, I would have your word on more than that you merely will not oppose me."

"What would you have me swear, my boy?" As Snape expected, the hint that he would allow the headmaster to be at all involved in Harry's life caught the old man's interest at once. He wondered how far he could push his luck.

"First, I would ask your public support should my oath-bound role in Potter's life come to light, as I am sure we both know it will not be looked on favorably."

"You have it," Dumbledore said at once.

One hurdle down, although admittedly the easiest one. And if Dumbledore did not ask for specifics and thus was unaware that he was agreeing to support Snape's adoption of the boy, well Snape could hardly be blamed for that.

"Beyond that, if you wish to be involved in his life as more than the headmaster of the school he attends, I would have your pledge that you will not knowingly oppose any of my decisions regarding his welfare. Nor will you, in absence of explicit knowledge of my wishes, take any action that would affect Harry in a way which you might reasonably expect I would disapprove of."

There was a pause of a few seconds before, "I am afraid I cannot promise that. No, listen a moment," Dumbledore cut off Snape's attempt to speak. "I am not denying the spirit of your request. However, your choice of wording would give you undue influence over decisions that in the normal course of things you would have little or no authority over. Staff appointments, for example. I know you disapprove of Professor Newberry, for example, and under your terms I would have been unable to appoint him as a potential instructor when Harry comes to Hogwarts. Or my role as head of the Wizengamot? Must I now consider your opinions before voting?"

It had been worth a try, Snape mused, though he was not surprised that the headmaster had seen that potential flaw. Now to begin negotiations.

"Specify that the decision must be one that would directly affect Potter as opposed to indirectly. That ought to negate the issue of the Wizengamot and your other appointments. And add that my influence over decisions at Hogwarts would be limited to that of any other staff member or," he hesitated, not wanting to give too much away, "guardian. I believe my role as his protector warrants that much authority, would you not agree?" Again he was speaking the truth, if not all of it.

"Indeed, and that is an improvement. I have a few suggestions of my own, if you do not object to hearing them."

It took twenty minutes and several attempts at revising the wording, but eventually they came to an agreement that Snape felt would assure Dumbledore could not act in a way that Snape felt would endanger Harry and that Dumbledore felt would not grant Snape authority over matters that weren't his to decide.

"Do you wish an unbreakable vow?" Dumbledore asked. "Shall I summon Minerva to be the bonder?"

Snape had considered it, but the very fact that Dumbledore was offering made him dismiss the idea. "Your word will suffice, headmaster." Dumbledore could be described in many ways, not all of them flattering, but no one could call him dishonorable. To a man like Dumbledore, his word was as binding as any oath.

"It is yours, then."

They shook hands and Snape considered the matter sealed.

"Might I see him, then?"

He had been prepared for this request. In fact, he was surprised it had not been one of the first things Dumbledore had said. Given the outcome of their meeting thus far, Snape was inclined to look upon the request a good deal more favorably than he otherwise might have done, which was likely why the man had waited, Snape realized. However, as Harry still could not transform into Erebus…

"Allow me some time. The boy has had his life greatly disrupted lately, and I would prefer to give him the opportunity to adjust before compounding matters further. Not today, and likely not this week, but I will see to it that something is arranged before the start of term."

Against all expectations, Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you, my boy. I will look forward to it."

As happened so often when dealing with the headmaster, Snape left the office wondering just who had come out on top of the exchange. He shook his head. It hardly mattered. He had secured the headmaster's support of his adoption of The Boy Who Lived—not that the man knew it—and had limited the older man's ability to act against his own wishes. It was more than he had hoped for, and he was determined to be pleased.

He only hoped that Harry had not gotten into any trouble back at Spinner's End.