Harry lay awake, dreading school and what he had to do. His alarm beeped – he smacked it quiet, and rolled over to face his bedroom wall. He could pretend to be sick, but Dudley wouldn't be fooled. After all, his brother was the one who taught Harry to fake it so well.

'Up!' Petunia's sharp tone jolted him, as she rapped knuckles against his door. 'Get up. Now!'

His mother was still mad at him, then.

'I'm awake!' Harry called back, afraid of losing his blankets or being splashed with cold water.

She left, and he accepted his fate.

Harry slowly rose, delaying the inevitable for a moment longer, then got dressed for school. He'd made quite a mess in the kitchen yesterday, which he blamed his Science teacher for. Mr Olsen was strict, but interesting – his lesson about hot water's ability to kill germs had grabbed Harry's curiosity. The almost-ten-year-old spent all weekend testing it out, but the combination of a weird fungus and boiling water was too much for Petunia's pot or kitchen to handle.

With a good clean, the kitchen recovered. The pot was not so lucky.

Curiosity was going to be the death of him one day, Harry was sure of it.

Ruffling his black hair, Harry yawned widely and made his way downstairs. He shuddered at the memory of his mother screeching incoherently when she'd realised he was experimenting in her kitchen again. He'd only narrowly escaped being grounded, much to Dudley's disappointment. It'd been two years since Petunia got that angry at Harry. The last time was because he'd pitched a fit over his discovery that Vernon wasn't his biological father.

Harry hated fighting with family.

'There you are.' Petunia cupped his face, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead. 'You can cook the breakfast, as punishment for yesterday.'

'And if I burn it?' Harry raised an eyebrow, testing her mood. He was actually an excellent cook.

'Then it'll be jam and toast for you.' Petunia frowned, tutting.

'I'm hurt.' Harry mock-gasped. 'Jam and toast? But I'm a growing boy!'

'Just make the breakfast.' She rolled her eyes, nudging him into the kitchen.

Harry sighed, heading to the fridge for supplies. With bacon and eggs sizzling in the pan, he risked a glance to Vernon reading the morning paper. Two years, it had been, and things weren't quite how they used to be.

'Morning, Father.' Harry carefully placed coffee in front of the man. 'Any news?'

'Hmm.' Vernon grunted. 'Not today.'

Harry nodded, withdrawing to focus on cooking breakfast. The boy refused to give up their routine; every since Harry was little, he'd asked for news and Vernon would pick the most ridiculous one to share with him. It was something only they did together. Harry's discovery ruined that too.

'I'm hungry!' Dudley announced, stomping into the kitchen.

'You're always hungry.' Harry rolled his eyes at his brother.

'Morning, Dad,' Dudley said, ignoring Harry, as he sat at the table.

'Good morning, son,' Vernon returned. 'Ready to tackle your exams this week?'

Harry gulped, turning his back. He blocked out Dudley's reply, eyes fixed on the sizzling bacon. He stayed quiet, even when finally able to sit and enjoy his own breakfast. Harry didn't eat as much as his brother, but that morning he barely managed a few bites. Petunia was too busy fussing over Dudley's birthday plans to notice.

Pretending to listen to boring talk about drills, new carpet, and shopping lists, Harry considered his plans for the last week of school before summer holidays.

'Well, best be off.' Vernon rose. 'Don't want to be late.'

'Harry?' Petunia stopped him from leaving, brushing hair from his face. 'Why don't you invite one of your friends over after school? Doesn't that sound lovely?'

'Not really.' Harry shrugged, dropping his gaze. He didn't have any friends as ask, even if he'd wanted to.

'You spent so much time alone your room or that shed,' Petunia said worriedly. 'Dudley has lots of friends to play with. You can too, if you tried.'

'I have tried,' Harry muttered.

His brother didn't make friends, though – Dudley formed a gang whose favourite activity was making Harry's life miserable.

'Hurry up, boy!' Vernon called from the hallway.

'Mum, I gotta go.' Harry sighed. 'It's fine, really. I don't mind being on my own.'

'It's not normal.' She shook her head. 'Dudley's putting in a lot of effort at school. I don't understand why you won't-'

'Mum!' Harry growled. 'I'm not Dudley, okay? I'm nothing like him, so stop comparing us. I really have to go.' He squirmed away and grabbed his bag by the stairs.

'Ready now, are we?' Vernon grumbled.

'Sorry,' Harry said, nodding.

'Don't forget our deal.' Dudley smirked, shoving Harry aside to leave the house first and claim the front seat of the car.

Harry clenched fists, glaring at his brother. He got into the back-seat and stared through the window, knowing he just had to go through with it and Dudley would leave him alone. His brother was bossy and didn't mind hitting him, but at least he almost always kept his word when they made a deal. Harry had to steal exam papers and he'd be left alone all summer. He could do it because Dudley knew the truth too; Harry was different.

Dudley was a year older than Harry and, in their parents' eyes, the perfect son. Harry was the “other son” and never quite good enough no matter how hard he tried. He was a great reader and got high marks in school, but Dudley was the one who brought home sports trophies and charming friends. And not for the first time, Harry wondered if Severus Snape was to blame for that too. That man was his biological father and apparently where Harry inherited all the parts of himself that made him different.

He just wanted to be perfectly normal, like a proper Dursley.

'Good luck with your exams, boys,' Vernon said, as Dudley and Harry left the car. 'Go show them how it's done.'

'We've got more than luck. We've got you.' Dudley rounded on Harry the second Vernon's company car drove out of sight. 'See you soon.' He walked off laughing, joining his unpleasant gang of bullies.

Harry adjusted his schoolbag and sighed. Severus Snape – all he knew was their resemblance and that the man “wasn't like normal people”, whatever that meant. Petunia never explained that part, when Harry confronted her two years ago, but what she had explained still didn't make a lot of sense.

Harry went to class, sitting at the back like he usually did. He kept his head low and scribbled drawings of cats in the margins of his notebook.

His least Snape-ish feature was Harry's green eyes inherited from his grandfather, Harold Evans. His aunt had those same eyes, but Lily wasn't like normal people either – neither were Uncle James and their daughter. Those abnormal lot were dead now, and Harry wasn't allowed to ask about it.

'Harry?'

'What?' He glanced up, seeing Mr Olsen and the class staring at him.

'Do you have your homework?'

'Oh, yes.' Harry blushed, hurrying to the front to surrender his homework. He kept his head bowed on the rush back to his desk, annoyed he'd made a fool out of himself again.

Maybe Severus Snape wasn't to blame for everything. Petunia wanted a second child very much, but an accident made Vernon unable to give her one. Aunt Lily convinced Severus Snape to help, and Harry was the result of whatever they did. Words like “donor” and “magical mixture” didn't add up to an actual explanation. Harry knew he was loved by his mother, but she'd wanted a daughter and someone who fit into their family as perfectly as Dudley did – Harry had failed her in that.

~ S ~ 

When classes finished for lunch break, Harry felt nauseous. He considered hiding in the toilets until lunch was over, but knew it would be breaking his deal with Dudley.

'There you are!' Dudley called across the yard, leading his gang to Harry. 'Found a way in?'

'There's a window,' he replied.

Harry trailed behind a redhead boy to a secluded corner near Mr Olsen's office. He kept all the science papers in here, which Dudley wanted Harry to get so he could pass the class with high grades. Harry offered to tutor his brother but Dudley thought it was too boring and cheating was easier.

There were five members of the gang, including Dudley. Each boy was older and stronger than Harry; he didn't stand a chance against them. They kept look-out or held the window open, while the redhead boy climbed in. Harry got a leg-up from Dudley, then was roughly yanked through the small space. He winced at pain to his arms and head, but forcefully ignored it; Harry would get worse if he didn't fulfil his end of the deal.

'There.' The redhead boy pointed to the safe under Mr Olsen's desk. 'Go on, freak.'

Harry didn't want to; stealing and cheating were wrong. He had no choice, if he wanted a peaceful summer without bruises or causing destruction to the only place where Harry could be himself without guilt or disgrace. If he didn't get the exam papers, Dudley would destroy the contents of Harry's shed – years worth of collected jars and noted research.

Losing that shed would be worst than any beating.

Biting back tears, Harry glanced nervously at the closed office door then crawled underneath the teacher's desk.

Blackmail was Dudley's most effective tool against him, and Harry had nothing to combat it with. The gang bullied him for years, making school and weekends Hell. He'd been shoved into mud, had his projects ruined, elbowed in his shins during outdoor activities, and punched in the face every time he did better than Dudley. The insults were almost as bad. He hated the power his brother's gang had over him.

'Hurry up!'

'Okay,' Harry grumbled, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

He didn't know how to crack a safe, but he'd get it open. Placing hands against the metal door, Harry stared intently and focused on how much he needed it to open. He ignored the silence, closing his eyes to will the safe to open.

It clicked, and the door almost smacked him in the face.

Not wanting to get caught, Harry quickly searched inside. Moving aside some money and a big flask, Harry grabbed the stack of exam papers. Sorting through them on his lap, looking for the ones Dudley wanted, Harry felt a prickle on the back of his neck and quickly glanced behind him. The redhead boy was gone and the window shut. Gasping, Harry jerked his attention to the disapproving figure standing over him.

'And exactly what do you think you're doing, Harry Dursley?' Mr Olsen crossed his arms, glaring at the boy.

'I...' Harry struggled to speak. 'I swear, I didn't...'

Of course, it made sense now; since when had Dudley cared about grades? Harry had been tricked, and not for the first time. Caught with the evidence in his lap, there was no convincing Mr Olsen of his innocence.

'You didn't, what? Mean to get caught? Save it for the Headmaster.' The teacher shook his head. 'I'm very disappointed in you, Harry. I never thought you'd be the sort of boy to do something like this...To cheat.'

Harry hung his head. He handed the papers to Mr Olsen and followed him to the headmaster's office.

He'd never been in this much trouble before, and was scared of what happened next. Staring miserably at his sneakers, Harry fought the urge to cry. Maybe if he did cry, like Dudley faked all the time, they'd let him off? The idea was squashed when his parents arrived and the boy couldn't even lift his gaze.

Harry listened to Petunia saying how wonderful he was and that clearly there was another explanation. Vernon argued how insulting the accusations were, and that they'd singled Harry out. What did a nine-year-old know about cracking safes, anyway? Their rants were useless against the fact Harry was caught red-handed. He received a week's suspension, not including the few hours when he needed to attend his last exams.

'Do you have anything to say for yourself?' Vernon growled, heading outside to the car. 'Hm?'

'Vernon, please.' Petunia sighed. 'It's clearly a misunderstanding. Our sweet boy wouldn't steal like that.'

'I know.' Vernon grunted, tightly gripping the steering wheel. 'I'm asking if Harry has anything to say for himself. First the experiments, blowing up the kitchen, and now this? He's acting out, Petunia, and I want to know why.'

'Harry, Sweetums, won't you talk to us?' Petunia turned in her seat. 'Why did Mr Olsen say those things?'

'I'll have him sacked, I will. Mark my words,' Vernon grumbled, glaring beady eyes at the traffic lights ahead. 'Accusing Harry of such nonsense!'

Harry stayed silent. He wanted to tell them about Dudley's bullying, but they wouldn't believe him. He'd tried, when it started years ago, but his parents dismissed it as sibling rivalry and told Harry that such exaggerations might hurt Dudley's feelings.

Petunia led Harry inside, as Vernon drove back to work. Harry was about to drag himself off to his room, but she halted him.

'Harrykins, won't you talk to Mummy?' Petunia tried to smooth his messy hair. 'Tell me what's upset you, darling.'

Tears welled in Harry's eyes, as he really wanted to confide in his mother. It wasn't worth the anger and beatings that would follow. Instead, he buried his face in her embrace and mustered his best display of sobbing. Petunia hugged him tightly and promised they'd go out for ice cream, giving Harry every excuse to avoid further conversation. It always worked, and a part of Harry hated how easily it did.

What he didn't realise, of course, was that him being different than Dudley actually gave Petunia a rather unique option in dealing with Harry's situation. For ten years, she'd dismissed any thought of it – but her son was hurting and she was desperate.

Petunia knew it was time to face the truth.

Severus Snape often wondered why he returned to Spinner's End every summer. It was hardly his home, but many believed it so. Perhaps that was why; should anyone of importance come searching for him...

No. It'd been years and the contract was clear. He had to keep those dangerous thoughts from his mind. Instead, his keen intellect was challenged in the basement where he'd just finished brewing a grease-removal solution. Every summer Severus returned there, and not once had anyone come knocking. Not a single visitor, until that first time when his visitor-alerting spells almost gave him a heart attack.

Severus froze.

The Dark Lord was gone and he'd put his teaching position at Hogwarts on hold, so who could it be? He stayed at Spinner's End alone, with only an owl for company and the bird was never around. Not that he blamed the feather-ball; who would have any reason to tolerate his sour company? Which returned him to the knock at his front door.

Slowly heading up the basements steps, Severus wiped his hands and calmed nerves. It could be anyone, really, and he was getting anxious for no reason. Mrs Nottingham down the road probably just lost her cat again and, for some absurd reason, believed he would assist her in finding the mangy thing. He'd just yank open the door and scowl at her to go away.

So Severus swung the door open and glared outside in preparation to defend his peace...And was shocked into silence by who stood on his doorstep, looking as sour as he remembered her.

'Hello, Severus.' Petunia Dursley crinkled her nose, narrowed eyes taking in his dark appearance with every ounce of disapproval. 'You haven't changed a bit.'

Glaring at her, Severus righted his posture and prepared to return insult – but noticed the determination and concern in her gaze. His anxiety returned rather inconveniently.

'And why, may I ask, are you disgracing my doorstep?' he drawled, slackening his glare to give Petunia a proper glance-over.

She'd gained a few wrinkles, but was otherwise the same as all those years ago when Lily forced him into agreement to give her beastly sister a second child. Perhaps “forced” was not the exact word, but Severus could never deny Lily anything – especially not when she showed up out of the blue to beg him for help. He was heading into a war he didn't expect to survive, so agreed to leave behind a child to carry on his bloodline. Tobias Snape left no legacy to be admired, but the Prince line must continue; Severus' mother had ingrained that in his mind from birth.

'You know why I'm here.' Petunia frowned. 'This is about your son.'

'The agreement was clear.' Severus spoke slowly to ensure he was understood. 'You have the brat and I die in peace. So it shall remain.'

Severus pondered the right timing to slam the door in her face.

He was curious about the child, but refused to allow himself that luxury or even worry what might be wrong. Surely something had happened, for Petunia to show up unannounced in Spinner's End? The Dursleys made it very clear he wasn't needed, even if the boy showed signs of magic. With that bitter thought, Severus realised his son might be attending Hogwarts next year. Perhaps he should renew his employment as Potions Master.

'That agreement expired when you lived,' Petunia said bitterly. 'You-'

'Mum, c'mon!' a young voice broke their conversation.

Severus tilted sideways, looking around her to the car where a boy sat looking thoroughly bored and annoyed. Petunia ignored her son's moody complaint, but Severus could not.

He left the shadows of his doorstep to get a better view of the child he knew bore his bloodline. Severus only saw him once before, when informing the Dursleys he'd survived the war. He'd never spoken to the child or even held him. In fact, during that visit eight years ago, Severus only glanced at his son because the toddler had dangled himself off the side of a couch while growling like an animal. He had nightmares about that sometimes.

The boy who hurriedly left the car was taller than Severus expected. He had jet black hair and emerald eyes.

'Harry-' Petunia protested.

'You're Severus Snape, aren't you?' Harry - that was his name - whispered.

'What exactly is it you want?' Severus directed his obedient gaze to Petunia instead.

Why did his son have to have Lily's eyes - was fate not cruel enough to him already? He'd often imagined meeting the boy, probably when Harry was of age, but of all scenarios...Severus never expected his son to actually look like him. Seeing the child standing in front of him now, the boy ceased to be a mere idea. He was an actual person with Severus' blood in his veins; a person with thoughts, emotions, and ideas.

Petunia didn't answer right away. She frowned, fussing with Harry's hair while the boy stared at Severus. He wanted to read the child's reaction, but didn't dare meet those emerald eyes. He briefly wondered if Lily's daughter inherited them as well.

'There are matters concerning Harry that Vernon and I need to discuss with you,' Petunia finally spoke, hands resting protectively on Harry's shoulders. 'You're invited to attend dinner with us this weekend, at eight o'clock.'

It was strange, how something he'd often imagined would make him angry actually scared Severus quite intensely. Fear was not unfamiliar, but this fear was an unusual kind. Meeting the child's equally intense gaze stirred something more than just fear in Severus. His son's mind and emotions were so open in that moment, and he knew the child needed him. For what, Severus had no idea and didn't dare assume, but he had a duty to Harry - despite everyone else having decided he wasn't up to the task.

The boy was his son, but Harry was never his to love or raise; the agreement must remain.

'Very well,' Severus heard himself saying. 'Eight o'clock, Sunday evening. You have my word.'