Snape watched as Harry caught sight of the snitch, crouched low on the broom, and headed toward the flying golden ball as fast as he could. The child had been searching the otherwise empty pitch for an hour trying to catch sight of it. Well, for an hour this time. After they'd come back from Diagon Alley - with far more items than Snape had intended to buy - he'd taken the boy out to the quidditch pitch. They hadn't even put away their new purchases.

The ridiculous child had been ecstatic about the snitch that Snape had purchased for him. Once the shock had worn off, that is. And Severus, well, he was almost getting used to being assaulted by new feelings daily. The warmth that had spread through his chest at the boy's absolute delight was one of the nicest he'd experienced so far.

Harry must have lost sight of the snitch as he slowed down and was methodically searching the pitch from a higher angle. Severus pulled out his pocket watch and noted the time. They'd have to go in for supper soon, but for now, the child could play.

He felt rather than saw McGonagall's eyes watching him. He didn't turn around, "how you manage to glare sternly even in cat form is a mystery beyond human comprehension, Minerva."

As the tabby cat jumped next to him it transformed into McGonagall. "You're losing your touch, Severus. I'd been watching you for a good three minutes before you noticed."

Harry must have thought he saw the snitch again because he zoomed through the goalpost hoop, but stopped a few seconds later, swiveling his head from side to side.

"I checked the locks on the equipment shed. Completely untampered with." Minerva commented, "So where did young Harry get a snitch to play with?"

Severus shrugged, "the damn boy probably stole it when we were in Diagon Alley."

McGonagall clipped him lightly upside the head with her hand. "That's enough of that. You've already started to grow fond of the boy."

"Hardly."

"Hmmm," Minerva shook her head, even as her eyes followed Harry around the pitch, "Yes, obviously, you're not fond of him at all. That's why at the first opportunity to be rid of him you practically packed his bags and sent him on his way."

Snape sneered, were there no secrets in this damn castle? He kept his eyes on the boy. "It's not like that."

"No?"

"No."

They were silent for a moment as they both watched the small child fly figure eights around and through the goalposts for a moment. Unlike in a real game, Harry occasionally allowed himself to become distracted by the simple act of flying.

"They're the worst sort of muggles, you know." McGonagall broke the silence. "I told Albus that the night he left the child there. It's a shame that we didn't know the boy was yours then."

"Yes," Snape's voice was low, "because placing The-Boy-Who-Lived with a twenty-one-year-old known Death Eater immediately after the Dark Lord's demise would have been a splendid environment for an infant."

"You always forget the double agent part of that, Severus."

Snape was silent for a few minutes, "That doesn't clear the board of my mistakes."

"Remind me, one day, to tell you what I did during the war with Grindelwald," Minerva's tone was casual, but the near whisper held the taste of a long-kept secret.  

Severus took his eyes away from Harry for a moment to look at the older woman. He wanted very badly to ask her right then what she meant, but knew he wouldn't get an answer. He stored the information away for a later conversation.

"What do you mean," Severus turned his head back to watch Harry, "By ‘the worst sort of muggles?'"

"They were too perfect." She said the words like a cat that had sniffed a bit of cream which had gone off. "Any person trying so hard to give the image of being that normal is definitely hiding something. And anyone that desperate to preserve the image of normalcy will do anything to make sure that image is maintained. No matter the cost."

Snape didn't reply, and they once again fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments.

"Did you know," Minerva continued, "that his first Hogwarts letter was addressed to The Cupboard Under the Stairs?"

Snape resisted the urge to look at her, "Of course, I didn't know that. I'm not the Deputy Headmistress whose job is to make sure the letters are delivered."

Minerva smirked slightly, "I doubt you'll ever be Headmistress, Severus, Deputy, or otherwise."

Snape rolled his eyes and hid his curiosity (or was it concern?) about where the letter was addressed.

McGonagall didn't dwell on the topic or ease his curiosity. "How has your first week as a father gone?"

Severus thought for a moment before replying, "I've been doing my best to avoid thinking about... that, at all, actually."

"And why is that?"

Severus didn't answer right away. Couldn't fucking answer to be honest. How did anyone use words to express the chaotic thoughts and emotions running rampant in their hearts and minds? Hell, how could emotions be logically sorted and cataloged? And without order and logic, how did anyone think about something?

Despite Filius's attempt at helping him bring order to the chaos he still found himself getting lost in the disaster. Despite Pomona's reassurances he still found himself terrified of trusting his own thoughts and actions.

Snape touched his wand to his throat and with a mumble spell spoke normally, yet his voice was amplified loud enough for Harry to hear, "Harry, catch the damn thing, already. It's nearly time for supper."

Harry grinned and gave him a thumbs up to show he understood, the boy then waved at McGonagall before increasing his speed around the pitch. He probably didn't even see McGonagall wave back.

Severus lowered his wand, and his voice no longer echoed around the pitch. "I don't know how."

McGonagall placed a hand on his forearm before patting it lightly for a second and then removing it. "If you need anything while you're with those horrid muggles I expect you to contact me at once."

Snape's lips twitched slightly, "I'll consider it, and don't worry, I'll be sure to leave out some cat food for you at least once a week while we're there."

He stood up and moved just out of her reach in time for Harry to land on the bleachers next to him. The boy was proudly displaying the snitch and grinning from ear to ear. "Got it!"

"So, I see," Snape stated emotionlessly, though his lack of excitement didn't seem to bother the boy at all.

"Come along you two," McGonagall was already walking away and towards the castle, but paused as she spoke, "We'll be late for supper."