Hiding within the dark shadows behind the Leaky Cauldron, Severus waited patiently, the hood of his cloak lifted to conceal most of his face and his wand drawn and resting at his side. He heard the back door to the pub creak open, and he watched the shadow around the corner move slowly in his direction, and he heard the small flicker as the wizard’s wand was used to light a cigar, the smell of the putrid smoke quickly travelling to Severus’s nose, and he crinkled it in disgust.

               The shadow on the ground grew as it came closer to where Severus leaned against the side of the building, and as the smoke became thicker, Severus swung his arm out and his fist connected with the man’s nose.

               The man shouted in surprise as he stumbled back and clutched his nose, dropping his cigar, and cursing under his breath.

               Severus stepped out of the shadows and around the building, coming face to face with Corban Yaxley, an older blond man with blue eyes. He wore a dark blue robe with a silk tie that had a few droplets of blood on it now from his nose.

               “Out for a little stroll, our we, Yaxley?” Severus asked as he paused in front of the man, pulling the hood down. “Or are you looking for someone else to beat up like drunk muggles in a bar fight?”

               Yaxley’s eyes widened with rage, and he snarled as he held out his wand, but Severus was faster, and he silently cast a disarming spell that sent Yaxley’s wand flying out of his hand. Without giving Yaxley a chance to register that he no longer had his wand, Severus stunned the man, knocking Yaxley off his feet and he dropped like a sac of rocks to the ground.

               “What do you think you’re doing, Snape?” Yaxley hissed through his teeth as he struggled against the spell holding him down.

               “Sending a small warning,” Severus said as he kneeled next to Yaxley, “to you, your friends, and Lucius Malfoy. If you ever come after me or my family again, you will have bigger fears than the Dark Lord’s name.”

               “You think you stand a chance against the Dark Lord when he returns?” Yaxley cackled with laughter. “You wear the mark, Snape. He will find great pleasure in torturing you before he kills you for this blatant act of treason. Adopting the Boy-Who-Lived? The vanquisher of our greatest leader? You sicken us all.”

               “The Dark Lord is no longer my Lord. He cannot control me like the branded pigs the rest of you are anymore. I do not care for supremacy or greatness. All I ask is that you leave me and my family out of your business.”

               “You are a disgrace. When the Dark Lord returns, we will hunt you down and slaughter your whole family.”

               “Failure to do as I ask will result in unfavorable consequences.” Severus touched the tip of his wand to Yaxley’s throat, and the wizard failed to bite back a painful groan as Severus allowed a mild crucio to slip through his lips, and he watched with disinterest as Yaxley writhed on the ground. He canceled the spell, then whispered, “Trust me, you do not want to challenge me on this. You’ve seen me in action before. There was a reason the Dark Lord trusted me so.”

               “The Dark Lord isn’t here to protect you now. When Malfoy hears of this . . .”

               “Oh, I am planning on Malfoy hearing of this. You will tell him. Pass on my message, won’t you, Yaxley? You were always better at running the Dark Lord’s errands, this shouldn’t be too taxing on your miniscule brain. Remember, leave me and mine alone, or you will deal with me. That goes for every Death Eater free or prisoned. Get the word out.”

               Yaxley’s face was a dark red as he spluttered for a moment, struggling against the spell, then he glared at Severus.

               “You’ll never be free of your past,” Yaxley said.

               “Perhaps not,” Severus agreed as he stood, pulled his hood back up, and began walking away. “But the past will know what to expect if it messes with me. Have a good night. I’m sure you can free yourself from that body bind.”

               “Snape!” Yaxley shouted. He struggled against the spell holding him down, muttering a counter-curse that failed before shouting, “Get back here! Snape!”

               Severus smirked as he turned the corner around the Leaky Cauldron. He apparated back to MacAuley Estate, arriving just in time for dinner. He pulled down the hood and his smirk melted into a genuine smile as he stepped through the gates, Shandy and Finn running up to him with loud yaps of excitement. He petted the dogs and rubbed their ears briefly, then walked down the pathway to the house with the dogs at his heels.

               Inside, he had to duck to avoid a bird flying above his head with a small package in its clutches. It headed for the kitchen, where he heard a lot of commotion going on. The table was set for four already and a chopped salad waited in the center with homemade dressing. Severus paused in the kitchen entryway and crossed his arms as he watched Eileen and Harry work in the kitchen.

               Eileen accepted the package from the bird, muttering a “thank you” as she quickly opened the package to reveal fresh carrots that Eileen started chopping.

               “You’re just in time, Severus,” Eileen said, “for once.”

               “Hi, Daddy,” Harry greeted from where he was chopping onions, “Did you know it was Papa’s birthday?”

               “Is it really?” Severus quirked a brow as he stepped into the kitchen, standing behind Harry and watching him handle the knife to cut up the onions. “You know, if you keep the tip of your knife in contact with the cutting board and set your hand here on top like this, you’ll chop much faster.”

               Severus directed Harry’s hands through the motions and helped him chop the onion into smaller and smaller pieces, Harry taking over on his own to finish the job. When they were finished, Harry smiled up at Severus.

               “Very good,” Severus praised.

               “Want to see my present for Papa?” Harry asked as he hopped off the stool he was standing on and ran out of the kitchen.

               Severus leaned against the counter while Eileen took the onions and threw them in a pan with the carrots, stirring the two together.

               “He’s been very helpful,” Eileen said as she worked on the food.

               “Did he work on his apology letter?” Severus asked, glancing over at his mother.

               “Of course, he did. I made sure he worked on it after his nap. It’s in your study if you want to review it. He’s helped with some chores, setting up the table, and now he’s helping with dinner. In between working on his present for Papa, that is.”

               Eileen turned from the stove, her eyes quickly landing on Severus’s hand.

               “What did you do to your hand?” she asked with a frown.

               Severus glanced down, then rubbed the bruise on the back of his hand.

               “It’s nothing serious,” he said. “I smacked it against a cauldron while moving things around at work.”

               “Hmm,” was Eileen’s only response.  

               “Look, Daddy,” Harry said as he ran back into the kitchen with a paper. He handed the sheet to Severus, who smiled down at the drawing. It was of Harry, himself, and Eileen and Peadar in front of the barn with a couple horses off to the side, Shandy and Finn sitting on either side of everyone, and Miss Trifle next to Harry. The drawing was as a good as any typical seven-year-old could manage, but each person was distinguishable and Harry had written “My Family” at the top and “Happy Birthday, Papa,” at the bottom of the page.

               “This is very nicely done, Harry,” Severus said, running his hand through Harry’s hair before handing the drawing back to his son. “Papa will love it.”

               “Did you get something for Papa?” Harry asked.

               “No.” Severus shook his head. “When I last lived here, Papa was quite content with a celebratory meal and some family time. And seeing as the birds have brought us a banquet and Nana is slaving away at the stove, nothing has changed.”

               “Though he will love your gift,” Eileen added as she stirred her carrots and onions.

               “Of course,” Severus agreed.

               “I’m going to hide it until Papa gets here,” Harry said excitedly.

               As Harry ran off to hide his drawing, the floo flared and Peadar stepped through, setting down his homework assignments to grade later. After quick greetings and a big hug from Harry, everyone gathered around the table while platters flew over to the center of the table, platters of all Peadar’s favorite foods: boiled ham, calcannon with cabbage and scallions, pan-seared carrots, and Yorkshire pudding with an onion gravy. Everyone dug in hungrily, savoring the food and drinks, pumpkin juice in Harry’s case.

               When everyone was nearly stuffed, Eileen brought out a homemade cake and Severus reluctantly joined in a happy birthday chorus with Eileen and Harry to Peadar, though he recalled they never really sang to each other in the past. Must have been Harry’s influence for sure.

               The cake was a lemon drizzle, and Harry managed to polish two slices along with Peadar, while Severus and Eileen took their time tasting each bite of their slice of cake.

               Harry decided now was a good time to grab his gift for Peadar.

               “I made this for you, Papa,” Harry said as he handed over his drawing. “Happy birthday. Do you like it?”

               “I love it,” Peadar said. “I’m going to hang it in my office where everyone can see it. Thank you, Harry.”

               “So, how old are you now?” Harry asked, climbing into Peadar’s lap.

               “Oh, too old!” Peadar said.

               “That’s not a number. Come on, how old are you? I’ll tell you my age if you tell me yours.”

               “Like your age is such a shocker! I’m sixty-one years old now.”

               “Sixty-one? That’s like . . . fifty-two years older than me.”

               “Very good, but don’ rub it in, ya cheeky brat.”  

               Harry laughed, but the moment was interrupted by Shandy and Finn barking frantically at the back door, digging and whining at the thick wood.

               “What is it, boys?” Peadar called to the dogs.

               They turned around and barked at Peadar before digging at the door once more, growling and howling now.

               Peadar set Harry down and stood, walking over to the dogs and opening the back door. The two ran in a red blur toward the stable, barking the whole way.

               Throwing a thick robe on and slipping into his boots, Peadar followed the dogs.

               “What’s wrong?” Harry asked as he followed Eileen toward the door.

               “I don’t know,” Eileen said, summoning a cloak for herself and her own boots that she slipped on. “I’m going to go check it out. Stay here for a moment.”

               Harry watched as Eileen walked quickly after Peadar. Severus paused next to him, crossing his arms, and staring out at the barn. Harry looked up at him with wide eyes behind his glasses.

               “What do you think is wrong?” he asked.

               “I don’t know,” Severus answered honestly. “But Papa and Nana have everything under control. How about we take a look at your apology letter?”

               Severus reached a hand toward Harry, who sighed and slowly reached up to accept Severus’s hand, when a loud whinny caught their attention. Harry jerked away from Severus at the sound with a gasp.

               “One of the horses might be hurt!” Harry exclaimed before bolting out of the house and down to the barn.

               “Harry!” Severus called after him, slipping his boots back on and running after Harry. The seconds it took to put his shoes on gave Harry a lead and Severus didn’t catch up to him until they were in the barn, where Harry was watching Eileen and Peadar surrounding one of the horses, wands out and waving over her gently. Shandy and Finn glanced over at Harry and Severus from where they sat in front of the stall door.

It was the gray pony, Asphodel. She was on her side and breathing heavy, rolling slightly in the hay as she did so.

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked, stepping closer, but Severus stopped his advancements, grabbing Harry’s arm and yanking him back away from the stall.

“You’re not even in any shoes,” Severus scolded lightly.

“She’s in labor,” Peadar answered. He waved his wand over Asphodel’s stomach once more. “But she’s not supposed to foal for another twenty-five days. I can’t find anything wrong with her that might cause her to . . .”

Peadar cut off as Asphodel jumped to her feet, forcing Eileen and Peadar to step back as she slowly circled her stall a few times, nosing her hay and pawing at it a few times.

“What does labor mean?” Harry asked.

“She’s giving birth,” Severus explained. “She’s going to have the foal now, but it’s too early.”

“Is early bad?”

“It’s not always good,” Severus said slowly, his face wincing in concern for the horse as she laid back down again and her abdomen contracted. Severus kneeled next to Harry. “You know, son, the foal may not come out alive. I don’t know if you want to watch this. How about we go back inside . . .”

“No, I want to stay! Can I help?”

“There’s nothing for you to do here.”

“I want to see the baby.”

“Harry—”

“How Harry comforts the dogs, eh?” Peadar said from where he was waving his wand over Asphodel again, this time, strings of green light swirling into her abdomen. “I’m sure they could use it.”

               Harry gave Severus a hopeful look, and with a heavy sigh, Severus nodded his head. Harry ran over to the dogs and sat next to them, wrapping an arm around each dog’s neck while watching the horse through breaks in the wood of her stall.

               Severus leaned against the stall door, watching Peadar finish his spell and step back, giving Asphodel space as she stood up once more and paced, her ears falling back in irritation at her audience, but she pawed the ground once more and breathed heavy. After a few circles in her large stall, she found a spot in the center to lie down once more, her abdomen contracting.

               To Harry, he couldn’t see too much from where he sat next to the dogs, stroking their backs, calming himself more than he was calming the dogs. He peered through the cracks in the wood to see Asphodel contracting her abdomen a few times, then she rolled a few times before readjusting herself on the ground. Her abdomen contracted twice more before she relaxed, though she breathed heavily still and remained lying down.

               Harry stood up and inched closer to where Severus was standing and watching the pony with a concerned frown. Harry climbed up on the stall door, leaning his upper half over the top of the door to stay up on it and see what was happening. His mouth dropped open at the sight.

               It was a very tiny pony, with fine silky hair, long spindly legs, and floppy ears. It was black in color, a stark contrast to his grey mother, though somehow the foal looked paler than it should, and the next thing Harry noticed was that its chest did not move.

               Peadar crouched next to the foal and flicked his wand sharply down at the center of the foal’s chest.

               “Anima revoco,” he muttered under his breath repeatedly as he kept flicking his wand in a sharp motion downward, almost as if he might hit the baby, but his wand never touched the foal. Instead, Harry watched in awe as the chest moved downward with each flick of the wand, almost collapsing entirely on itself before inflating on its own in between each flick, as if a gust of wind forced air inside the baby’s lungs.

               He heard a small sniffle, and Harry looked to his right where Eileen was standing in the corner of the stall, a hand over her mouth and her eyes closed as she slowly shook her head. Confused, Harry swung his head to the left to stare up at Severus, who sighed heavily and looked down. This frightened Harry, and his eyes fell on the foal once more as Peadar continued to mutter the spell, and the foal’s chest kept rising and falling with each enchantment.

               Finally, Peadar paused in what he was doing and stared down at the foal.

               It did not move.

               “Anima revoco,” Peadar said again, flicking his wand once more. He repeated the charm a few more times before pausing again and taking in a deep breath as the foal did not move.

               “What’s wrong with the baby?” Harry asked. “Why isn’t he breathing?”

               “He was born too early, Harry,” Severus said softly.

               “Why?”

               “I don’t know the answer to that, but maybe he just wasn’t meant to live on this earth.”

               “No, he has to,” Harry argued, tears forming in his eyes. “Wake up, pony! You have to wake up!”

               “Please do not yell in here,” Severus scolded lightly.

               Harry pushed himself up and over the stall door, climbing into the stall before Severus could grab him, and he cautiously walked over to where Peadar was casting the spell on the foal. Asphodel eyed him but did not react otherwise as she continued to remain in the hay. He sat down in the hay next to his grandfather and watched the foal’s chest rise and fall. He felt a couple cold tears run down his cheek and he rubbed them away with a swipe of his arm.

               “Can I touch him?” Harry asked Peadar, his hand hovering over the foal hesitantly.

               Peadar paused in his spell and nodded his head, sighing as the foal did not move.

               Harry rested his hand on the foal’s muzzle. The foal’s eyes were wide open, blankly staring past Harry, little bits of gray hair circling the eyes. Gently smoothing the hair down as best he could, Harry moved his hand up toward the tuft of hair on top of the pony’s head, a small dark tuft that stretched down its neck. He ran his hand through the short mane, another tear escaping his eye. He realized Peadar hadn’t started the spell again, and he looked up at his grandfather.

               “Aren’t you going to do the thing again?” Harry asked.

               “It’s not working,” Peadar answered him softly. “The foal wasn’t ready to be born.”

               “No, he’s ready. You have to keep going.”

               “He’s gone. There’s nothing more I can do.”

               “He’s not gone. I know he isn’t.”

               “Harry,” Severus called from the stall door. “I think it’s time to go back inside.”

               “No! I won’t leave until you help him.”

               “We’re not negotiating with you, young man,” Severus said.

               “Lad, listen,” Peadar began gently, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “sometimes things happen out of our control and there’s nothing we can do about it. This is one of those times. Asphodel must be sick, or the baby was already sick in her and that is why she gave birth so early. We’ll bury him together, okay?”

               “It’s not fair,” Harry mumbled, choking slightly as more tears welled in his eyes and he hugged the foal’s neck tightly.

               A soft grunt caught his ear. Harry let the foal’s head rest back in his lap and he stared down at the baby, unsure if the noise he heard had been from the baby or Asphodel, who pushed back up to her feet. Sparing the mama pony a glance, Harry looked down in time to watch the foal in his lap slowly blink its eyes at him.

               He gasped.

               “He’s blinked at me!” Harry exclaimed.

               “What?” Peadar asked. He was still sitting near Harry, and he inched closer and peered down at the horse, before leaning down and resting his ear against the baby’s chest. His eyes widened. “He’s alive. His heart is there but faint.”

Eileen nearly ran over to them with her wand out and swirling in an intricate pattern. The air around them warmed considerably. Then Peadar flicked his wand at the foal, and while Harry didn’t see anything happen at first, the foal’s chest began to rise and fall more visibly, as if it had been struggling to take in good breaths before.

               Harry smiled even as he felt a couple more tears fall down his cheek. The baby was alive! They weren’t going to have to bury him now. He was breathing and blinking.

               Asphodel walked over to the foal and sniffed her baby, then nuzzled and licked him. The baby did not react to Asphodel, he simply laid on the ground with his head in Harry’s lap.

               “He’ll be okay, now, right?” Harry asked.

               “He’ll be okay.” Peadar lifted the foal and settled him in a sternal position. Eileen danced her wand over the foal, and when Peadar let go, the foal remained in a sternal position, and Peadar and Eileen gave Asphodel and the baby some room to bond. Peadar took Harry’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “He’s going to need a little assistance for a while, but as he gets stronger, he’ll start acting more like a foal.”

               “What kind of assistance will he need?” Harry asked.

               Peadar leaned against the stall door near Severus, who remained on the other side watching Asphodel and the foal.

               “Well, he’s very weak because he’s not as developed as he would have been if he was born a few weeks from now. So we’ll give him some time to bond with his mother, then we’re going to help him stand up and nurse from Asphodel. It’s very important that he does that soon.”

               “Does that mean get milk from Asphodel?”

               “Yes, it does.”

               “Can I help?”

               “That would be very appreciated,” Peadar said with a smile.

               Severus reached over the stall door and ruffled Harry’s hair.

               “You do as Papa tells you with the baby, okay?” he said.

               “Yes, Daddy. What are we going to name the baby?”

               “He might already be sold, Harry,” Severus said sadly.

               “Not so fast,” Peadar interrupted. “We hadn’t announced Asphodel’s pregnancy like we’ve done the others. Now, Harry, the baby will need a lot of help, which means a lot of work for the next few weeks. He’s going to need help standing, and nursing, and he’ll need constant supervision. Do ya think you’re up for the challenge?”

               “Yes, Papa!” Harry squealed excitedly, jumping up and down next to Peadar. “I want to help.”

               “That also means,” Severus added, “staying on top of your schoolwork and not neglecting your chores or other pet.”

               “I will, Dad, I promise. And I won’t neglect Miss Trifle.”

               “I know you won’t.” Severus smiled softly at his son.

               “So I can help?” Harry asked.

               “Of course,” Peadar said. “Let’s get him up.”

               Harry followed Peadar, and with his grandfather’s permission, he helped lift the foal to a standing position. Eileen waved her wand once more over the foal and when Harry and Peadar let the baby go, he was standing on his own. He wobbled slightly but didn’t fall. Asphodel nuzzled him once more and licked him again, cleaning him off. The spells Eileen used helped to stabilize the foal so he did not fall over with his weak legs.

               Several moments passed before the foal took a hesitant step forward, then another, his limbs shaking and swinging out in an awkward manner. Finally, he found his way to nurse on his mother, and everyone cheered as he did so. When the foal was foal, he pulled away and stood next to his mother, blinking blearily.

               “He’s cute,” Harry said. “Do we get to name him now?”

               Severus snorted while Peadar chuckled warmly.

               “I think he deserves a name,” Peadar said. “Did ya have something in mind?”

               Harry tapped his chin and frowned in deep thought. He tilted his head as he studied the horse this way and that, then tapped his chin some more before looking up at Severus.

               “You know that poem book you read to me?” Harry asked.

               “You mean the one by Shel Silverstein?” Severus clarified.

               “Yeah, that one.” Harry frowned for a moment, then smiled. “I like Shel. Can we call him Shel?”

               “I think that’s a great name,” Peadar said with a smile.

               Harry beamed as he admired the foal, glad to have come up with the perfect name for the newcomer of the family. Shel blinked slowly back at Harry as he leaned against Asphodel.

               Severus reached over the stall door and lifted Harry up, resting him on his hip.   

               “Say goodnight, Harry,” Severus said. “It’s getting late, and you have school in the morning.”

               “Aww, do I have to leave now?”

               “Shel will be here in the morning. You can see him before you go to school. But that means getting up early, so we need to get you ready for bed.”

               “Fine,” Harry said reluctantly.

               “Goodnight, Harry,” Peadar and Eileen said. Peadar added, “You were a big help tonight.”

               “Night Nana and Papa. Night Shel.”

               Severus carried Harry out of the barn, seeing how he still was shoeless.

               Peadar stepped out of the stall, Eileen following him.

               “I’ll call the vet tomorrow,” Peadar told, “and have them both checked out, just to be safe. They seem to be doing well now.”

               “I can see to that while you are teaching,” Eileen said. She kissed her husband, then smirked. “Happy birthday, dear.”

               “Thank you, but I would have preferred a Guinness over a premature foal next time.”

               “I’ll keep that in mind,” Eileen said. She brushed past Peadar, calling the dogs to her side. She headed back for the house while Peadar kept an eye on the foal a little longer, watching him slowly lower himself into the hay where he quickly fell asleep, Asphodel standing guard next to him.