Ron and Hermione had gotten used to the news quickly, and Harry was thankful that they acted as though he had always had a family. Even before he had been adopted, they had treated him like a normal person, and now they acted as though Snape had always been his father and it was nothing out of the ordinary. Harry liked that. He liked the thought of never having been an orphan, never having lived with the Dursleys, and never having been the strange kid at school who didn't have a home to go back to, because now he did have a home.

For the first two weeks, Harry happily answered questions kids at school asked him. At first people thought it was a rumor that he'd been adopted. Then when he confirmed it a dozen times over, the school thought it was a rumor that it was Snape who had adopted him. How could Snape adopt Harry Potter? Draco had once asked Harry how he had the bad luck to be adopted by the one wizard who hated him so fiercely, and Harry had downplayed it as nothing. He had a harder time doing that however when two dozen kids from different houses asked him the same thing, and when ten more tried to commiserate with him about how miserable he must be living with Snape.

"It's nothing," Harry told them. "He's not like that at home." He said it over and over again until they quit asking him about it. It wasn't until the end of November that the chatter about him and Snape died down, and Harry felt like he could finally slip into a new routine at school, a routine which included occasionally going down to the Dungeons to play chess with a father that seemed to want him around. Harry wanted to believe he was wanted more than anything, and told himself that he did believe it.

It was a week into December when questions started coming at him again, and if Harry hadn't been so surprised that it was a Professor asking them he would have been annoyed. He wanted people to act like Ron and Hermione did, that it was nothing to be part of a family now, that he had always had a home to go back to, and that he was a normal kid who was wanted.

Remus Lupin was the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher this year, and aside from having classes with the man, Harry hadn't spoken much to him. They had bumped into each other outside his office on a Sunday afternoon though, and Lupin had asked Harry to come into his office for tea. Harry had never been invited to have tea with a professor before, and wondered if he was in trouble for something.

Lupin asked a house elf to bring a pot of tea, and motioned for Harry to have a seat in the visitors chair in front of his desk. A moment later the elf popped back in with tea and Remus poured him a cup.

"I'm not in trouble, am I sir?" Harry asked, accepting the cup of tea. He was wracking his brain for anything he might have done to warrant detention and couldn't think of anything. Fred and George flitted across his mind. They had just started a month-long detention for flooding the dungeons with two inches of water and turning it into an ice skating rink. Harry had had nothing to do with that though.

"No, you're not in trouble," Lupin said warmly, giving Harry a small smile. "I just wanted to have a chat."

"Oh," Harry said with a little frown.

"Harry, I understand you've been having trouble with the dementors stationed around the school boundary."

Harry brought his eyes up. He had been having trouble with the Dementors. "I guess," Harry said.

"There is a way to counteract the effects of the Dementors and to keep them away from you."

"A Patronus," Harry said.

Lupin looked surprised. "You know about Patronuses?"

"My dad has been trying to teach me."

Remus pursed his lips in thought and then took a sip of his tea. Harry took a sip of his as well, feeling awkward.

"How have you been faring with it?"

"I haven't managed yet. I'll have all Christmas to practice though." He had been looking forward to going home for Christmas for a number of reasons, and one of them was that he would be away from the school and the Dementors. After he'd fallen off his broom during the last Quidditch match and ended up in the Hospital Wing, Hermione and Ron had described how Snape had looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Harry and his friends had heard Snape ranting at Dumbledore about the Ministry and the Dementors, and a man named Black who was some sort of criminal on the loose, but they hadn't gotten all the details they would have liked and Hermione had been doing research in the library since then.

"Can you explain to me the theory behind casting a Patronus?" Lupin asked, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Dementors feed on your worst memories," Harry said. "A Patronus is like a shield that can protect you, because Dementors can't feed on happy memories. So to cast one you have to think of a really happy memory, and feel like you're there again living that memory."

"That's right," Lupin said. "It can't just be a good memory though, it has to be your very best memory. It has to fill you up with a feeling of warmth and happiness. A memory that fills you with warmth and happiness and protection is even better. Have you been shown a Patronus yet, so you can see what a fully corporeal one looks like?"

Harry shook his head. His father couldn't cast one, though Harry didn't know why. He was such a powerful wizard. It seemed as though Lupin also knew he couldn't cast one.

"I'd like to show you. Keep in mind, each Patronus will be different depending on the caster, so yours will look different than mine."

Harry nodded and Lupin set his cup of tea down and pulled his wand out. He said loudly, "Expecto Patronum!" and a glowing blue white wolf rushed out of his wand and stood between Lupin and Harry. Harry was nose to nose with the wolf, who started into his eyes for several moments, and then sat down and began wagging its tail. It yipped a couple of times and then disappeared.

"That was cool!" Harry said.

Lupin smiled and put his wand away.

"The memory you use must be able to overpower the worst memory the Dementor makes you remember."

"That's what my dad said," Harry said quietly. He hadn't shared with Snape what his worst memory was though, and Harry had been struggling to find a memory that could overpower it. So far the best one he had was of Snape dragging a teenage boy who had beaten Harry up down the lane by the ear to apologize to Harry in the middle of the summer. In that moment Harry had felt vindicated, and triumphant, and happy, and warm. The memory didn't push back the scent of death though, or the oily feeling of Voldemort casting the killing curse at his mother, or the wash of the killing curse that came over Harry before rebounding on Voldemort and killing him. Harry had begun to think there might not be a good enough memory to cover all of that up.

"What is it you see when the Dementors come?" Lupin asked.

Harry's eyes came slowly around to meet his Professor's. "I don't want you to tell my dad."

"Is there a reason why?"

"Yes."

"Hm. I won't tell him."

Harry fidgeted with his fingers for a moment. "When the Dementors come, I can see the green flash of light, and hear her screams. I can smell death... and I can feel the curse. I can feel the dark magic."

Harry looked up to see what Lupin's reaction was to this and found the man looking sad. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that Harry. You were so young, I had no idea you would remember that."

"I didn't until the Dementors came to school."

"I see. And what memory have you been using for the Patronus?"

Harry told him about getting beaten up over the summer, the things the boy had said about Snape, and about Snape dragging the teen whimpering a mile down the lane to apologize to Harry. As soon as he had apologized, Snape had let go of his ear, which was bright red from where Snape had gripped it, and the teen had run off as though he was scarred for his life.

"That's some memory," Lupin said.

"I never had anyone do anything like that for me before," Harry said.

"And it's the best memory you've got?"

"Yeah."

"It may be that you need to keep trying with that memory. Or you may need to come up with a better one in the future. Some wizards don't have a good enough memory to overcome their bad ones and never manage to cast a Patronus as it's advanced magic."

"Oh," Harry said.

"I didn't mean to say you never will," Lupin said in a consoling voice.

"I'll get it," Harry said quietly. He was certain he could get it eventually, but his mind was on Snape, who couldn't cast one. Did he not have good enough memories?

"Do you enjoy living with Professor Snape Harry, since he adopted you?"

Harry looked up again. He'd begun to hope people had forgotten to ask him about this as it had been a couple weeks since the kids at school had stopped asking.

"Yeah," Harry said, "I have a nice room and we do fun stuff together."

"Are you looking forward to going home for Christmas?"

"Definitely," Harry said with a smile. He had asked Snape if his family had any traditions, and Snape said they did, though he hadn't followed them in years. Snape usually spent Christmas at the castle, but was going home with Harry this year. "We're gonna get a Christmas tree, and I'm going to get to go shopping to buy my friends gifts this year." He and Ron had also been hatching up a plan to ask if Harry could go to the Burrow for a night or if Ron could come stay in his new room for a night. Harry had watched Dudley have friends over before, and had always been jealous.

"You were living with your relatives before, weren't you? Your mother's sister?"

"For a few years," Harry said. "I was in an orphanage before Hogwarts though."

"I didn't realize." Lupin finished his cup of tea and looked thoughtful for a few moments as though he was trying to decide something. Finally he said, "Did you know that I was friends with your parents?"

"You were?" Harry asked, surprised. He set his tea cup down on Lupin's desk and leaned forward.

"We were in the same year and house in school. I was friends with James and two other boys, and later on when he and Lily started dating I became friends with her too."

"No one has ever told me much about them really," Harry said. He occasionally heard things about how he looked like them, and Professors sometimes said things about how good of a student his mother was, or how his father had been Head Boy and had played Quidditch, but that was it.

"Your new father doesn't tell you about them?"

Harry shook his head.

"He doesn't have anything to say about James, or about me?"

"No," Harry frowned. Snape had told him that James had bullied him in school, and how that had led to him thinking Harry was just the same when he came to school, but that was all. "I know they didn't get along."

"Hm." Lupin grew thoughtful again. "After the holidays, if you'd like we can have tea again and I can tell you about Lily and James."

"That would be great," Harry said. "I have some pictures of them from Hagrid, but that's it."

"They loved you very much."

"I know," Harry said. They had to, because they had done everything they could to get him away from Voldemort, and had paid for it with their lives.

* * *

"Did you know Professor Lupin was friends with my parents?" Harry asked Snape a few days later. They were in his quarters packing to go home. The other students had left on the train that morning, and Harry had spent the rest of the day in his father's dungeon quarters.

Snape froze, back to Harry, then carefully set down the vial full of potion he was packing away and without turning to face him said, "I did."

"He said after the holidays he would tell me about them," Harry said.

"I'm certain he has much to say."

Harry frowned. His father's voice was stiff. Harry was good at reading people. He had to be growing up with the Dursleys. It was important to be able to detect the change in his aunt and uncle's moods so he could know what kind of trouble he was in, and how to act around them at any given moment. "You don't like him do you?" Harry said.

Snape turned and gave him a calculating look. "How do you know?" he asked calmly.

"I can read people," Harry said. There had been one embarrassing incident after they'd returned to the castle where Snape had raised his arm up quickly to rub the bridge of his nose when he and Harry had gotten into an argument, and Harry had thrown his arms up to shield his face. Aside from that, he was usually very good at reading people and their intentions.

"You recall I told you about a prank your father pulled that almost killed me?"

"Yeah."

"I was almost eaten by a werewolf."

"A werewolf?" Harry asked, surprised. He knew there was a section in his third year Defense book about them, but they hadn't read that far yet, so he didn't know much about them.

"I was almost eaten by Lupin."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "Him?"

"Yes."

"On purpose?"

Snape paused. "No. He was not involved in planning the prank. Your father and his other friends led me out on the night of a full moon to where Lupin was fully transformed. A werewolf has no power over what they do when transformed."

"He seems nice though," Harry said. "When he's human."

"Yet he was friends with your father and his other friends, who tormented me and other students relentlessly."

"And he was mean too?"

"No," Snape said shortly.

Harry could tell Snape was growing irritated, so he stopped questioning him about it and went instead to his trunk to look through it again and make sure he had what he wanted before they left for Bainbridge. Harry was startled a few minutes later when Snape questioned from behind him, "He has not been talking about me?"

Harry looked up and then sat back on his rear end next to his trunk on the floor. "No, except to ask if I liked living with you. Actually he asked if you had been telling me about my parents, but that was it."

His father seemed to relax some at that, and Harry wasn't sure why.

"Do you have all your things?"

"Yep, ready to go."

"We will be using the Floo."

A few minutes later, and Harry had stepped through the Floo into the living room of their home in Bainbridge with his trunk. Snape stepped out after him a moment later. The house was warm and it smelled like Mrs. Mayer had put a roast on so it would be waiting for them for dinner when they arrived.

"Take your trunk up to your room."

"Ok," Harry said happily.

He levitated his trunk up the stairs and didn't bother to open it to unpack when he got into his room. Instead he laid eyes on his soft blue plaid blanket and fell face first into it. He was so happy to be home where he belonged, and he couldn't wait to go down the lane tomorrow to visit with Millie and Arran, and Mrs. Allan. He couldn't wait to spend his first Christmas in Bainbridge with his father, and then to go back to Hogwarts to tell his friends all about it.