Severus wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd left the boy in the Headmaster's office. He was sure that updating his syllabus for the fifth years shouldn't take this long, and that concentrating shouldn't be this hard. After all, if he didn't think about what happened then he could pretend that today was just like any other. If he could convince himself nothing horrible had happened, he could forget about life-shattering revelations.

He needed a distraction. Surely, his syllabus should be a helpful sort of distraction?

Unlike the sort of distraction that came from a knock at his door.

With trepidation and resignation, he waved the door open revealing the Headmaster as well as a red and puffy-eyed (but angry-looking) little boy. The Headmaster was not dragging the child around by the neck of his shirt.

The shirt, Severus thought, was probably very relieved by this turn of events.

"Hello, Severus," the Headmaster's greeting - as always - was cheerful. "I hear that it was a very exciting day at Kings Cross." The headmaster stepped into the office nudging a reluctant boy in front of him, "Also, Harry and I have just been to see Madam Pomfrey - we caught her just before she was about to floo to South America for the summer. Apparently, there's been a particularly bad outbreak-"

"Albus," Snape interrupted, simply.

"Well, it appears congratulations are in order, my dear boy. So, allow me to be the first to say: Congratulations! It's a boy!" The old man looked down at Harry, "I've always wanted to announce that to someone for the first time, but I never thought the child in question would be eleven years old!"

Ignoring the exaggerated eccentricities of the Headmaster, Severus pulled out the copy of Lily's letter he had retrieved earlier. Without comment, he handed it to the older man.

It didn't tell the whole story, Severus knew, but it explained enough. It explained that Severus had attempted to determine if the child belonged to him. And that Lily had apparently and understandably lied to him about the boy's parentage. It explained that Lily had decided to give James another chance at being a decent human being for the sake of her child instead of continuing on with the divorce and nothing more.

Albus read the letter quickly before handing it back. He easily dodged Harry's weak attempt at snatching it from his hand.

"I see," Albus said, simply. There was a pause, and Severus wondered if the old man was standing in front of his desk recalculating his entire plan for defeating the Dark Lord. It wouldn't have surprised him. He wondered if he fit into that plan, still.

When next Albus spoke he gave nothing away, "You'll still have to have Petunia sign her guardianship over to you." Severus winced at the thought of seeing Petunia again, and at the assumption that he would take the boy. "I trust you'll take care of those details once you've gotten young Harry here settled."

"Of course," Severus agreed automatically, internally fuming at being told what to do with his personal life, and ignoring the fact that even without the Headmaster's assumptions he wouldn't be able to walk away, now. Harry was living proof that Severus had won. That he'd finally beaten James Potter.

Albus smiled, "I'll leave you both to it then! I'm sure we'll have a chance to talk about the situation more later, Severus."

The Headmaster leaned down and whispered something in Harry's ear that Snape couldn't hear before patting the boy on the shoulder and leaving the office, closing the door firmly behind him.

He stared at the boy.

The boy stared back.

Bloody fucking perfect.

A couple of hours passed following the Headmaster departure and Severus still hadn't spoken to the child.

The child had spoken to him, however.

Well, more like the boy screamed at him.

Ranted.

Disrespected.

Spewed forth rather pathetic insults, but they were about what one would expect from an eleven-year-old.

Yet, Severus couldn't bring himself to say anything. Partially, because he was trying to process the situation. The entire day seemed rather surreal, and he wasn't sure this wasn't some horrible nightmare.

Also, he didn't know what the fuck to say to the boy.

Yes, a small part of him wanted to jump up and do a victory dance at the indisputable proof that James Potter had been royally fucked over. But, somehow, the victory wasn't as sweet as Severus had imagined it would be. Something he wasn't willing to acknowledge - a voice different from the greedy one - something he'd buried years ago was fighting to be acknowledged. And whatever that something way he doubted he'd like the long-forgotten feeling it would provoke.

He was left with an eleven-year-old boy in his office looking at him with all the loathing that Severus had inflicted on the boy for the last school year.

At the boy's first angrily yelled accusation, Snape had instinctively opened his mouth to take points then remembered it was summer. That led him down a frightening path of how to deal with a tantrum-throwing child who was not a student. He couldn't take points. He couldn't give a detention. He couldn't threaten expulsion.

Certainly, there had to be books on the subject. He would need to do research if he were to be stuck with the child now. The Headmaster seemed to think he would be... for now. Until Albus's plans changed.

Eventually, the child stopped shouting, and simply sat down on the floor against a wall and cried.

That was quieter, but worse in a very different way that Severus did not understand. Normally, crying students just annoyed him. But this time, this crying student in these circumstances, made him decidedly uncomfortable in a way he couldn't identify.

It wasn't logical, but it appeared to be true.

Eventually, even the crying had stopped. The boy remained sitting on the floor, however. Severus had yet to move from his desk and had not been able to stop looking at the child. His child? That didn't sound right. It felt foreign to his mind, like a complicated word he'd never tried pronouncing before but was trying to sound out in his head.

When he did finally speak it was to summon a house elf and request it retrieve the child's things from the Weasleys and place them in his quarters. He'd also instructed the elf to take an unopened bottle of Fire Whiskey to Arthur.

Not long after he'd done that, and at least an hour after the boy decided to lay down on the floor to sleep (Severus had provided a blanket and pillow once he was sure the child was actually asleep) there was a soft knock at the door.

Snape made sure the boy remained still before waving the door open revealing McGonagall once more.

Severus wasn't sure if he should feel trepidation or relief.

She walked into the room and spotted Harry quickly. She seemed to watch the small boy for a moment - and Severus could have sworn he saw her smirk slightly - but by the time she turned to face him, she was smiling sympathetically instead. It was all her fault, really. Her and her damn bets.

"Albus told me," She kept her voice low.

"So naturally, the entire staff and all the portraits know, by now," Severus sneered.

"Most likely. Except maybe Binns and Sybill."

They were silent for a moment. Severus tried not to squirm as she watched him seemingly waiting for something, but he wasn't sure what that something was. Did she expect him to break down into sobs? Was she hoping he would tell her how Harry came to be? Did she think he'd done something horrible to Lily?

"When do you plan on feeding him?" Minerva finally asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Severus blinked at the question. That was not what he anticipated. He cleared his throat, "I'll bring him with me to the Great Hall for supper?"

Why was that a question? He hadn't meant for it to be a question.

Regardless, he let out a relieved breath when Minerva nodded in approval. "You'll have breakfast with him in your quarters tomorrow?"

Severus nodded, not completely understanding why having his former professor tell him what to do was oddly comforting and surprisingly welcome. He was good at Occlumency, but all his skills seemed to be failing him at the moment. This was not a normal situation. But Minerva was behaving normally. Mostly. She usually wasn't this bossy.

"Albus had the castle add a room to your quarters. The elves should have provided basic furnishings for it by now."

"Thank you," Severus said, not caring that she wasn't the one who made the arrangements.

"I assume you're going to talk to him - answer some of his questions - after you wake him and take him to supper?"

Again, Snape nodded, and the more she laid out a simple plan for him to follow the more relieved and grateful and less panicked he felt. A voice in his head said he should be annoyed at her for interfering, but he pushed it aside. That voice didn't make it easier to breathe.

"Very good. Wake the boy then. I'll make sure an extra place is set at the table." McGonagall quietly left the office, but not before reaching over his desk and resting a comforting hand over his own.

He waited another ten minutes before waking Harry. Only because it took him that long to decide how to wake him. He'd had to wake students up before, from time to time. Usually, with a loud noise that had them instantly awake and half-startled half-terrified to see their Potions Professor towering over them.

That did not seem appropriate in this situation. He wished Minerva had given him more exact instructions. How else was he supposed to know the proper way to go about this? He settled for nudging the sleeping boy with the toe of his boot until the child groaned and opened his eyes.

Once he saw the boy was fully awake, he said, "It's time for supper. We'll eat in the Great Hall with the other Professors. Afterwards, we'll go to my quarters where I'll answer some of your questions." He paused, "if you can behave yourself that is."

Harry nodded eagerly, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Yes, sir." After a moment he pushed himself up from the floor, only noticing the blanket when it fell off him exposing his bare arms to the cold of the dungeons. He looked at first the blanket and then the pillow with confusion, "Where did these come from?"

"Never mind," Severus snapped, "can you follow me to the Great Hall, or shall we stretch out the neck of your shirt some more?"

Harry glared, "I'll follow you."

"Come along." Severus turned sharply and made sure the boy was at his elbow before opening the office door.

There was only a single table in the center of the Great Hall, now. It appeared to be the teacher's table, but instead of seats only on one side of the table, there were chairs on both long ends. Snape directed Harry to the seat near the end of the table and sat down beside him. The food was already on the table, and Snape noted that the child didn't rush to fill his plate.

Severus took a moment to observe the other staff members. Most of the ones staying at the castle - at least for a couple more weeks - were already at the table eating and talking. Occasionally, one would glance in his direction, and though he would glare they generally only smiled back in return.

He was clearly losing his touch.

As though Petunia's tirade at a crowded muggle train station hadn't proven that.

Snape found himself without an appetite, and with reluctance placed small portions of food on his plate. Forcing himself to chew and swallow the occasional bite. Madam Pomfrey was sitting next to him, her packed bag resting at the feet of her chair, so she clearly intended to leave immediately following dinner. The mediwitch attempted to engage him in conversation, but Severus found he couldn't concentrate on her words. Or any words, said by anyone, until Pomfrey spoke to the boy on Severus's other side.

"Mr. Potter, you've hardly touched your food! I know it's been a trying day, but you really should eat something."

Severus looked down at the child.

The child glared up at him.

Severus looked at his own nearly untouched plate of food and glared at it.

The teacher's table - when classes were not in session - didn't have courses as it did during the school year. Instead, both the main meal and the desserts were already prepared and waiting on the surface. Severus debated only for a moment before pushing his supper aside and reaching for a piece of chocolate cake. He heard and ignored Pomfrey's frustrated scolding beside him, even as he reached for a second piece, and - without making eye contact - placed it in front of the child next to him.

It had been a shit day, after all.

"You said you'd answer my questions."

Snape had only just closed the door to his quarters behind him, and was now stuck between the door and an angry Potter. The boy had his arms crossed and was glaring up at him. The child did seem to glare at him a lot. It was hardly an intimidating sight. Especially since the child still had some evidence of the chocolate cake around the corners of his mouth.

Snape noted the appearance of a new door to the right of his own bedroom door and figured it must be the room that the Headmaster added. He stepped forward and slightly around the child, forcing the small boy to move or be stepped on. Crossing the small living room, he opened the door to find his suspicions correct.

The room was small and contained only a neatly made bed with Harry's trunk waiting at the end of it and a wardrobe. There was one other door that Snape dreaded opening, having a suspicion that it might lead to his own bathroom. He opened it with trepidation and was unsurprised to see that he would indeed be sharing a bathroom (his bathroom) with a child.

Bloody fucking brilliant.

"Professor!" The boy was next to him again. Whining. "You promised -"

"Potter!" He snapped, which had the effect of silencing the boy immediately. He took a deep breath, "I will answer some of your questions, but first you will unpack your things," he gestured towards the boy's trunk, "while I shower and change. Then you will shower and get ready for bed."

"But-"

"Bloody hell, boy," Severus swore and allowed himself to lean against the door frame even as he massaged the bridge of his nose, "it's been a fucking horrible day for us both. And I doubt either of us has fully processed the situation. There is only one bathroom, so we'll have to take turns. Now, do as you're told: unpack while I shower, then while you're showering, I'll make us a pot of tea while we... talk."

Harry was looking up at him with wide eyes, "You swore."

Severus contemplated climbing to the top of the Astronomy Tower and jumping off.

"Do not make me repeat myself," he crossed his arms and glared.

The boy looked like he might argue some more, but seemed to think better of it and instead looked around the small room as though seeing it for the first time.

"I'm sure it's not up to your exacting standards, but I suggest you take that up with the Headmaster." Snape snarled.

"This is my room?"

Of all the stupid questions Snape could have anticipated that hadn't been one of them. "Why else would your trunk be here? You are just like-" Severus cut himself off. Damn it all to hell. "Just unpack. And stay in here until I tell you otherwise."

Snape stepped into his bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

He should have spiked the tea with a calming draught.

Or, at least, spiked his own with Fire Whiskey.

"What was in the letters that you sent to my Aunt every year?"

He had not expected that to be Harry's first question. His quarters were sparsely furnished. There was a small kitchenette with a round dining table. A desk in the corner. And most of the wall space was covered with books. There were only two armchairs next to the fireplace with a small table in between that was covered with books and potion journals stacked in neat piles. He sat in one chair while the boy sat in the other.

A boy whose feet didn't even touch the ground.

"That is a personal matter between myself and your Aunt. I suggest finding a different line of questioning."

"She always burned them after reading them, you know."

"Fascinating."

"Did you insult her or something in them? Because she was really, really, angry at the station. I've never seen her that angry."

"She's always had a vindictive streak," Snape knew he'd have to give the boy real answers eventually, but his head was still spinning from the day's events, and the long hot shower had done little to calm the turbulent thoughts racing through his mind. Even taking a few moments to meditate and clear his mind didn't stop the thoughts from racing back once he laid eyes on the boy.

"Can you at least tell me why you wrote them?"

"I could if I were inclined to do so." Severus' responses were clearly making the child angrier, and some part of him was glad for that. If the child lost his temper, it would allow Snape to declare Harry too tired to continue the conversation and send him to bed.

They could both use a good night's sleep anyway.

"You're not playing fair!" Harry declared hotly.

"Temper, temper," Snape chided. "And this is hardly a game."  

"Please, just tell me what happened at the station. I don't understand why my aunt was screaming at you." There was a desperate whine in the child's voice that grated on Snape's nerves. After a slight pause the boy whispered, softly, clearly expecting Severus not to hear, "or how she managed to scare the greasy git of the dungeons."

Snape narrowed his eyes but refrained from commenting on the insult, "Drink your tea. It's getting cold."

"I don't want to."

"I really do not care what you want, Potter." It was a simple statement free of emotion. He might have been commenting on the weather.

The boy was silent, and Snape sipped on his tea, watching the fire. Minerva was barking mad if she thought talking to the child tonight was a good idea. Really, they were both too tired and still processing the day's revelations for any sort of productive conversation to take place.

"The letters I sent to your Aunt did not contain any sort of threats or insults. They merely asked about your wellbeing, offered assistance in case of emergency, and requested she not tell you about them."

"Why did you care? Dumbledore said you didn't know I was your...your... son."

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape corrected. He ignored the strangeness of hearing the boy - any child for that matter - referring to themselves as his child.

The boy rolled his eyes, "Headmaster Dumbledore said you didn't know."

"The Headmaster was correct."

There were a few more moments of silence before the boy spoke again, "What do we do now?"

Snape took a slow deep breath and carefully placed his empty tea cup on the table. "Now, we go to bed, and figure out everything else after a good night's sleep."

"It's too early to go to sleep!" The child glared, again.

"Then lay down in bed, quietly, or read or work on your summer assignments. In your room. On your bed."

The child was still glaring at him stubbornly. Snape rolled his eyes; he was too exhausted for this. He got up and put the tea things away. Washing the cups by hand instead of using magic. Then he put out the fire. The boy would soon get cold and decided that his blankets felt better than the icy air of the living room.

He moved towards his own bedroom and paused with his hand on the door. He flicked his wand and the door to his quarters locked. He flicked it a second time and the lights dimmed slightly. "The lights will continue to dim slowly for the next ten minutes then turn off. I suggest you be in your room by then."

Whether or not the boy complied he couldn't say. After making use of the bathroom (his bathroom), Severus sought the warmth of his own blankets, and surprisingly fell asleep before the lights in the living room turned off.