For Harry, many things made sense. Like the harder you threw a ball against the ground the higher it would bounce. Some things did not, but he knew someday they would. Like why the older kids at school liked to hold hands all the time. Other things he was sure were mysteries beyond human understanding and would never be found out.

Like how once a year a letter would suddenly appear through the mail slot addressed to his Aunt Petunia. It always looked like a simple normal letter. There was no return address, but there was always a postage stamp and a postmark. The way normal letters had stamps and postmarks. But, for some reason, it always seemed to upset Aunt Petunia, and she couldn’t be bothered to look at him the entire day when it came. Even in the days leading up to the letter’s appearance, Aunt Petunia would be anxious as though she knew when it was coming even though it always came on a different day.

She always read the letters.

Then she would burn them.

Harry very badly wanted to know what was in those letters. And how simple words could provoke such a reaction in his Aunt. A reaction of fear before the letter appeared followed by a rage that even his Uncle Vernon didn’t dare provoke by asking what was in the letter. Dudley was the only one consistently spared. But he didn’t care to ask about the letters.

One year, when he was eight, the letter came on a Saturday, and his Aunt practically threw him in the car and started driving. They drove for hours. She didn’t tell Uncle Vernon or Dudley where she was taking him, and she ignored Harry’s repeated questioning from the back seat.

He tried to snatch the letter off the front passenger’s seat where she’d tossed it by her purse, but she’d smacked his hand away and put it in the glove box so he couldn’t get to it. He’d fallen asleep in the back seat not long after that and didn’t wake up until he heard his Aunt Petunia’s voice screeching at full volume. He’d sat up and looked around only to see his Aunt standing outside a scary-looking house beating on the door and yelling for whoever lived there to open up.

The whole neighborhood looked dark and creepy and dirty, to Harry, and he didn’t recognize where they were. His only clue was a street sign off in the distance that said “Spinners End.”

Eventually, his Aunt gave up. She got back in the car and drove back to Privet Drive. As they drove away, Harry could have sworn he saw the curtains move and a man’s face appear briefly in the window. Aunt Petunia didn’t look back at the house and didn’t say anything to Harry the entire drive back.

Harry decided that the letters were a mystery that was never meant to be solved by anyone. Ever. Only Aunt Petunia and whoever the letters were from would know the secret.

After he got his Hogwarts letter, he didn’t think of the letters to Aunt Petunia again. At least, not until the end of his first year. After they’d gotten off the Hogwarts Express and gone through the gate to King’s Cross.

“You must be Harry’s family!” said Mrs. Weasley.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Uncle Vernon. “Hurry up, boy, we haven’t got all day.” He walked away.

Harry turned back around to say a final goodbye to Ron and Hermione when he heard his Aunt’s screeching voice echo through the station. “Severus!”

Before he knew what was happening, he felt his Aunt grab the back of his shirt, up by his neck, and drag him away from his friends.

Snape was on the train well before the students were allowed to board. He’d found a compartment at the front and locked the doors so none of the students would know he was there. Every year, a teacher rode the train with the students to ensure nothing horrible happened on the train and to make sure no students were left behind unsupervised at the station. It was a fairly simple task, if tedious and time-consuming. Especially if one of the parents was late.

And it was his turn.

Again.

He should know better than to make bets against Minerva McGonagall.

Fortunately, he’d brought the latest issue of his favorite Potions Journals to stave off the boredom. He’d barely made it halfway through when the train stopped and he sighed in annoyance. But he continued reading, waiting for the rush of students to make their way off the train. Once the conductor made sure the compartments were free of students, and about half an hour after the last student disembarked, Snape would step off and do a quick sweep of the station looking for any wayward students. Then he would get back on the train, and return to Hogwarts.

He stood up and stretched his back taking his time before removing his robes revealing simple muggle black pants and a dark grey button-down long-sleeved shirt. He left the robes folded neatly on the compartment seat. He’d be returning to the same compartment in a few minutes. Hopefully, without a forgotten student. Then he could finish his Journal in peace on the journey back to the castle.

He might even indulge in some sweets from the trolly.

Platform 9 ¾ was empty except for the conductors and two families that were chatting happily: Snape made sure to note that their children were with them before walking through the gate onto the Muggle side of the platform. After crossing through the barrier, he paused, scanning the station for students. There weren’t many left and those he did see were with their families. Or the families of friends. He would have to wait a few more minutes and walk around Kings Cross just to make sure, but everything appeared perfectly fine and normal.

Until he heard the long-forgotten voice of Petunia Evans screeching his name.

“Severus!”

“Tuney.” The name slipped from his lips before he could stop it, and he was grateful no one was near enough to hear him say the childhood nickname. His eyes searched the platform until they found the woman in question marching towards him and dragging the confused Potter boy with her. He noticed the Weasleys and the Granger girl watching curiously.

Absolutely wonderful.

He didn’t have time to make sense of the situation before Petunia was standing in front of him and shoving the boy forcefully into him. He was obligated to catch the child, even as he stumbled back slightly from the impact.

“Petunia,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He set the Potter boy aside after he’d regained his balance. He took a step towards the woman and crossed his arms to glare down at her. He opened his mouth to issue some dire, empty, threat, but Petunia was already speaking.

“Oh please,” Petunia rolled her eyes with a derisive scoff. “If you think for even a second that glaring’s going to work on me, you’re even more of an idiot than I remember Severus Tobias Snape.” She hissed the name deliberately enough that his fingers twitched for his wand out of pure instinct. Her sharp eyes caught the movement and she tossed her head back with a scowl. “I very well know that any threat you make about hexing me is nothing more than hot air! Now you’re going to stand there and listen for once instead of hiding behind letters. Letters that you’ll stop sending right now. If I ever receive another letter from you, I’ll write to Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic myself. Explain how I’m being harassed by some… some boy who doesn’t have the courage to face me himself after over a decade.”

Snape cast his eyes about the station. They – well, Petunia’s screaming – was beginning to draw attention from muggle passersby. He half expected (half hoped) for a security guard or PC to approach them at any moment to break up the scene. To make matters worse, the Weasleys were intently focused on what should have been a private conversation; as was the Granger girl and, what he assumed were, her parents who joined the Weasleys to openly stare.

His eyes snapped back to confirm what he’d seen: Molly’s vindictive smirk.

“You and my sister have always been nothing but trouble!” Petunia went on, oblivious to the fact her husband and son were standing behind her. Vernon looked confused and concerned, but clearly, curiosity was preventing him from interrupting. “From the day you two met all you’ve done is torment me. And just when I think I’m finally free of you… you… freaks… she goes and gets herself blown up! Leaves me to raise her abnormal child. And YOU, you arrogant, slimy bastard, have the audacity to check up on him once a year by letter! By LETTER! Without even giving me a way to contact you, in return!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Snape saw Potter trying to move away from him and his aunt, not that he could blame the boy. He was tempted to turn and run back through the platform gate to escape himself. It was rather surreal, really, he couldn’t remember ever being so concerned for his own safety because of ‘Tuney’ before. Sure, she’d been his best friend’s older sister and had on numerous occasions gone out of her way to get him and Lily in trouble – with the occasional success – but that was twenty years ago. Even then, he’d never been afraid of her.

Things, apparently, could change. The Petunia that stood before him was not a bratty girl or even a vindictive teenager. She was a fully grown woman, and she was furious. Filled with a righteous rage that Severus simply couldn’t comprehend coming from her of all people.

It was reminiscent of the times Lily was justifiably angry with him, and wanted him to know it.

His hand moved without his conscious input, grabbing the Potter child by the back collar of his shirt and dragging him between himself and the raging Petunia. His grip, while not shaking, was unrelenting and he would deny any accusations thrown at him of using the child as a shield for the rest of his life.

“Don’t even think of trying to give him back to me, Severus!” Petunia snapped, arms crossing stubbornly in front of her. “You care enough to check on him once a year then you can take him!” When he opened his mouth to protest, she plowed onward with a chill creeping into her voice – a cold intimidating tone rising from the once blazing fire. “I don’t care if you detested Lily’s husband or not – though why that matters I don’t know. Clearly, you unnatural abominations have your own depraved way of doing things.”

She continued, her eyes narrowing, “Then again, considering where you came from, dealing with good-for-nothing lowlifes should be second nature to you as you’re the very same. Pathetic, weak. Probably a drunkard like your father.” His hand began to tremble with rising chagrin. But this territory was familiar, and he knew how to respond to this insult. If only Tuney would take a breath and let him. “Take him back to your decrepit hovel of a home. Take him back to Cokeworth and stay there. I never want to see him, or you, again! Do you understand, or do I need to use smaller words so your feeble, pathetic brain can comprehend?”

Silence fell between them for a moment even as the boy between them struggled to break free. Snape’s grip tightened, but keeping the boy from running off and getting abducted was not the primary reason for this action. It was certainly a good excuse, however. If the boy managed to break free and flee as he wanted, if Snape didn’t go after him… well, Dumbledore would be less than pleased and Snape would be left to search all of London for the Boy-Who-Lived. But, no, the primary reason was to keep him from doing something rash enough to send him to Azkaban.

“Petunia –” Snape started to reply, his teeth clenched in anger even as he wanted nothing more than to hex the woman.

“No!” Petunia took another step closer to him, forcing Harry back against his chest and Severus to wonder if he’d lost his ability to be intimidating. “I’m done, Severus. I’ve been done for a very long time with you freaks. I was perfectly happy before you came along. Before you and Lily went to that unnatural freak school of yours. Then, when I finally thought I was rid of the both of you and all of that mess…” Her rage, while not abated, simmered enough that she took a step back. “I’m done, Severus. Take your son. Go back to that miserable little dump you call home. Now. And leave my family alone!”

Severus blinked, had he heard correctly? “My what?”

Petunia rolled her eyes again – as if she were dealing with an irate child – and said slowly, “Your son! Or did you never figure out where babies came from? Honestly, how daft can you be? I knew my sister had a thing for good-for-nothing boys who thought far too highly of themselves, but I honestly thought you could at least do basic maths.”

Severus’ heart pounded in his chest. Fuck… this… Lily said…no… it just… couldn’t. “No.”

“Eloquent as always, but at least you grew out of that horrible accent.”

“You had the same accent, Tuney,” Snape said with his newly found voice. He was fairly sure he meant for the words to sound harsher than they did to make up for the weak comeback.

Petunia stepped closer – even closer than before somehow – oblivious of her nephew (and somehow immune to the glare that sent both students and (new) professors scurrying out of his path). He forced himself not to back away even as she poked his chest with one long, bony finger.

“You listen to me, toerag,” her voice had gone quiet but it was evident her rage was not abated by the fire in her eyes, “I’ll not act as a babysitter for your brat for another minute. I don’t care what you do with him, but I’ll not have him ruining my family any longer. You’ll take him, and you’ll leave my family alone!”

“You can’t—” He began but was cut off immediately by the furious woman whose voice rose in volume once again.

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” Her finger pushed against his chest again. “Do you know what I see when I look at you? A pathetic, worthless, spineless little ragamuffin who grew into an even more pathetic man who thinks he can pretend to be something he isn’t.” She gestured to Harry. “He’s just like you.”

With that, Petunia turned on her heel and walked away, taking her son’s hand as she did so while her husband followed soon after.

Snape fully expected the child he was holding onto to try and go after them. To scream and throw a tantrum. To fight against the hold Snape had on him. However, when he glanced at the boy - that he was still holding in front of him like a human shield - Potter was just standing there looking down at his shoes, the tips of his ears burning red. Snape didn’t know if it was from humiliation or anger.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he swore quietly. But before he could consider what to do next a cheery couple moved into his line of sight. The Granger girl – head down in embarrassment – was situated between them. The man – Granger’s father he assumed – cleared his throat before speaking, obviously aware of the awkwardness of the situation.

“You must be Severus Snape! The potions teacher at Hogwarts?” The man speaking reached out a hand. More out of instinct than conscious decision-making, Snape used his free hand to shake the offered hand.

“Hermione’s told us so much about you.” The woman – presumably Mrs. Granger – seemed far calmer than her husband. “It’s good to actually get to meet one of her professors.”

This had to be a nightmare. It must be. Or the Dark Lord returned, killed him, and this was his hell. His eternal punishment for all the horrible things he’d done in service to the Dark Lord. This simply could not be real. First, Petunia screaming at him like they were children all over again, and Granger’s parents having an impromptu parent-teacher conference in an attempt to distract from the catastrophic emotional outburst that was Petunia when she’d finally had enough.

How could he have forgotten Tuney’s anger when pushed too far? They may have been children, but some personality traits only strengthen and become more refined into adulthood.

The Granger woman stopped talking and was clearly waiting for him to say something in reply. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been paying attention to what she was saying. How could he when all he could think about was what Petunia had said and how she had thrust the Potter boy onto him? He was impressed he hadn’t started swearing at them, yet.

“Well, Severus,” Arthur Weasley was suddenly by his side, smiling. Like always. Disgustingly friendly. And possibly Snape’s favorite person in the world at that moment. “I’m sure you need to get Harry back to Hogwarts before the train leaves. Have a good trip.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth Snape turned - dragging the Potter boy with him – and stepped back through the barrier not caring if any muggles saw him disappear into a wall. He only just caught Arthur’s suggestion that he send a house elf to The Burrow to pick up Harry’s things. Snape would probably do just that. Along with a bottle of Fire Whiskey for Arthur as thanks for saving him from the Grangers.

He didn’t let go of Harry’s shirt as he pulled him onto the train and into the compartment that he’d previously occupied. Once there he pushed the child down onto the seat, and used his wand to securely lock the compartment door. He couldn’t have the boy wandering off, now. No doubt Petunia’s rejection of the child had caused the blood wards to break. He had no other choice than to protect the stupid boy until they got back to Hogwarts, and he wouldn’t chase the child through the train.

The compartment secure, he turned to his robes and began pulling them on over his muggle attire. He intentionally didn’t look at the eleven-year-old boy whose eyes he could feel following him. Once dressed, he sat down opposite the child and picked up his Potions Journal. Not that he could concentrate on the words, but at least it kept him from looking at the Potter boy.

Lily’s boy.

Damn it all to bloody fucking hell and back.

“Professor?”

He ignored the voice.

“Professor Snape?”

He continued to ignore the voice.

“Professor!”

He turned the page in the journal hoping the boy would take the hint.

“You can’t just ignore me, all the way to Hogwarts!”

Snape decided he would take that as a challenge.

By the time the train had stopped at Hogsmeade station Harry had given up on trying to talk to him, and instead was alternating between glaring at him and glaring out the window. The glaring had intensified when the boy wanted to buy sweets off the trolly, and Snape had silently refused to open the compartment door. Severus had more important things on his mind, however, than the hurt feelings of a sugar-addicted eleven-year-old child.

Like how to make sure said boy did not bolt the second he unlocked the compartment door. He stood glaring down at the Potter boy.

Potter glared back up at him.

Without a sound, he reached down and once again grabbed the collar of the boy’s shirt pulling him up off the seat. He kept a firm grip as he unlocked the compartment door and made his way off the train dragging the child with him.

“I can walk without you dragging me, you know.”

He ignored the boy’s words and continued along the path to the castle.

It seemed an exceptionally long walk up the path and through the gates on the warm summer afternoon.

Especially, with the boy tripping over himself.

Eventually, they made it up to the Headmaster’s office. Where he shoved the boy inside.

“Hey!” Harry stumbled indignantly as he barely regained his balance before falling on the floor.

“You will stay here until the Headmaster gets back to sort this out. He shouldn’t be gone much longer.” Snape turned, slammed the door behind him, thought better of it, opened the door again, and commanded in his most forbidding tone, “Touch nothing!”

He slammed the door closed again, and hurriedly made his way down to the safety of his office. Once there he picked up his lesson plans for the fifth years, as well as, that year's O.W.L.S. exam, and began the process of updating his syllabus.

The distraction lasted for exactly seven minutes.

Kicking the corner of his desk with a frustrated growl he got up and stormed through the halls to his private chambers a few corridors down from his office. The door flew open for him before he could even touch the door handle. Apparently, even the doors wanted to get out of his way. A pity that blasted Petunia didn’t have the sense the castle’s furnishings did. Honestly, how dare she speak to him that way? He was a grown man. They were not children. He should have hexed her right there in the station. A few months in Azkaban couldn’t be too horrible, right?

It might have been fucking worth it.

Once in his private quarters he went to his bedroom and found an old muggle shoe box on the top shelf of his wardrobe. Taking it down, he removed the lid and carefully shifted through the letters and pictures he’d stored in the box. Finding the one he was looking for he read it again.

And again.

And again.

He was a bloody idiot.

How had he not questioned it further? He could have asked Lily for a blood test once the brat was born. He could have insisted on it. But he never imagined she would lie to him about something like this. She knew he would have done anything for her, didn’t she? If she had told him… And if she’d been with him instead of James then maybe she would have lived.

Why hadn’t he gone to Dumbledore sooner?

It had been some time since he’d asked himself that question. He’d stopped asking because it was one he didn’t like the answer to. It was a question that hurt to think about because the answer was so simple: pride.

His pride cost him the one person he cared about.

His pride had cost him his chance at a life with Lily and their child.

His hands trembled just slightly, as he duplicated the letter, and tucked the copy away in his robes before placing the original back in its box.

His hands continued their trembling on the walk back to his office, and every breath he inhaled seemed to get stuck in his lungs. He returned to his desk and stared down at the fifth-year syllabus. He needed a distraction. He needed to work on the syllabus. He needed to stop thinking about how Lily had begged him to go to Dumbledore two weeks before she’d told him she was pregnant. He needed to stop thinking about how she refused to look at him when she told him the baby belonged to James.

He picked up his quill and tried to focus on the syllabus.

He was still working on that syllabus when his office door opened to reveal Professor McGonagall holding a too small Gryffindor boy by the collar of his shirt.

That damn shirt had to be stretched out by now. He’d be surprised if it didn’t fall off the child before the end of the day.

“Severus,” Minerva said, giving the Potter boy a small shove into his office. “I believe you left something in the Headmaster’s office unsupervised. I found him wandering the halls. I suggest you keep him with you until the Headmaster returns.”

Minerva closed the door behind her with a thud that was not a slam but that left no room for argument.

Potter must have told her only some of what had transpired at King’s Cross or she’d have come in and demanded more answers.

Blasted boy.

Snape looked at the child who was trying to glare at him. The boy’s youth made it look more like a pout. A voice filled with greed and vindictiveness echoed in his mind. He’d certainly gotten the upper hand on James Potter. James Potter had been cuckolded and Lily had given birth to Snape’s child. And raised the brat for over a year thinking it was his.

That greedy little voice sounded far too proud of that.

He never should have placed that bet with Minerva. If he hadn’t placed that bet, he never would have been on that train. Petunia wouldn’t have recognized him, and he could have gone the rest of his life believing the words Lily wrote in one of the last letters she ever sent to him.

Severus went back to his fifth year’s syllabus.

The boy loudly scraped a chair across the floor before sitting down with a huff.

Snape ground his teeth.

“Will you, please, tell me what you and my Aunt were talking about.”

Severus remained silent.

“Figures. No one ever tells me anything.”

Snape did his best to concentrate on the syllabus and corresponding lesson plans.

The boy started kicking his desk absentmindedly with his foot.

After a solid minute of rhythmic kicking Snape stood up, came around his desk, grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt (again), and began marching him outside ignoring the boy’s demands to know where they were going.

Severus found his way to the storage shed where the school brooms and quidditch supplies were kept. And where Madame Hootch was currently inventorying. He didn’t make it to the door before her head popped out followed by the rest of her shortly thereafter.

He stopped, and had just opened his mouth to speak when she crossed her arms and stated firmly, “Oh, no, you don’t! I need all the equipment in here and accounted for. I’m leaving early this year, and I’ll not have anyone messing about in my equipment shed. And, no, Severus, I don’t care how bored the boy is you’re the one that’s stuck with him until the Headmaster returns. Now, go away.”

Madame Hootch returned to her shed, and Severus – who did have a few functioning brain cells, thank you very much – turned, still holding the boy (who’d given up trying to squirm free), and walked him passed the Quidditch pitch and towards Hagrid’s hut. Minerva must have alerted the staff to Harry’s presence in the castle. And the entire faculty was aware of who’d been saddled with going on the train this year.

Rather, they knew who’d lost the bet with McGonagall.

He spent six minutes pounding on the half-giant’s door before the insolent brat next to him informed him of what McGonagall had told him.

“McGonagall said—”

“Professor McGonagall.” Snape reminded him with a snap.

The boy sighed, “Professor McGonagall said that the Headmaster sent Hagrid off on an errand before leaving.” The boy pouted (or was it meant to be a glare?), “I asked to stay with him instead of you.”

Snape turned sharply, hand still firmly grasping Harry’s shirt, “How convenient that the only person who can tolerate your company has left the castle.”

Snape began walking towards Professor Sprout’s greenhouse but thought better of it. The last time he’d left a student unattended in her greenhouse had been his second year teaching. He repressed a shudder at the memory. When she’d finished with him the soft-spoken witch had left him practically in tears from the talking-to she’d given him. Not unlike a first year being told off by his favorite professor. And she’d never once so much as raised her voice or used an ounce of sternness! Yet, he’d spent months working in the greenhouse to repair the damage done by an unsupervised student all in an attempt to make it up to her.

He doubted even the Dark Lord could withstand Pomona’s disappointment.

He could take the boy to Sybill. It would probably take two days for the flighty witch to realize she wasn’t having some sort of vision, and that the child begging for food was, in fact, real. That wouldn’t do. He wanted rid of the boy, yes, but didn’t want him starved to death.

As though the child knew what he was thinking Harry spoke up from beside him. “Are meals at the same time as during the school year? Have we missed lunch?”

Snape changed his direction and walked the boy to the kitchens where they were both immediately set upon by overly excited house-elves. He watched the boy eat a bit of everything the elves placed in front of him while Severus checked his pocket watch frequently. Once Harry had finished eating Snape grabbed the back collar of his shirt, hauled him up from the table, and dragged him all the way to the Headmaster’s office.

He knocked on the door this time and nearly sighed in relief at hearing the Headmaster’s voice invite them inside. Instead of stepping inside the office and calmly explaining to the Headmaster what had transpired at Kings Cross he opened the door, shoved the child inside, and left without a word. Albus would know how to fix this.

After all, this revelation didn’t fit in with the prophecy or the Headmaster’s grand scheme. And Severus wasn’t foolish enough to think that he was indispensable to the Headmaster’s plans. He knew better than most that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one.

He’d watched Star Trek with Lily when they were children, after all. He knew how the story would play out. Even the most sympathetic of anti-heroes never makes it to the end.

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.

It felt like he'd just closed his eyes when he woke next.

The reason for his abrupt awakening was abundantly clear. The alarm he'd placed on his locked door was going off. Damn it.

It was 1:38 in the morning.

Blasted boy. He'd decided to run for it.

Severus reluctantly got up from the bed and waved a hand to turn off the alarms. The alert he'd placed had been a snap decision before he'd turned in for the night. The boy had a tendency to wander the castle during the school year, he doubted the child would stop just because it was summer and there was more danger with less supervision.

Idiot child.

He threw on his robe and slippers before leaving his quarters. The boy couldn't have gone far. He hoped.

If he spent the entire night searching the castle for the child he'd have the boy scrubbing every inch of Hogwarts with a toothbrush until he graduated. Maybe longer.

Severus had just made it up to the stairs to the first floor when he heard Flitwick's excited voice. How could the man be so awake at this hour? "Harry, my boy! What brings you up here in the middle of the night? Looking for a midnight snack?"

Snape's feet stopped moving. His curiosity got the better of him, and he waited to hear more. Why he cared what the boy had to say, he didn't know. But that was beside the point as he couldn't make out the child's quiet mumbling.

He resisted the urge to snap at the child to speak up.

Flitwick's voice reached his ears once again, "I see. Well, best get you back to Severus. The castle isn't a safe place for a child to wander around alone. Especially with so much of the staff gone already."

Before they rounded the corner to find him eavesdropping on the stairs Snape took the last step into the hall.

"Ah, Severus! We were just looking for you." Flitwick held a plate with an overly large sandwich in one hand. Clearly, he'd just come from the kitchens after acquiring his own midnight snack.

"I apologize for his bothering you," Snape glared at the boy who was staring at the floor. Or perhaps staring at his feet. His bare feet. Stupid boy.

Flitwick noticed the bare feet at that same time, using his wand (and the hand not holding a plate) he silently conjured a very furry pair of scarlet slippers with a Gryffindor crest on them. The lion on the crest appeared to be yawning every so often.

"That's better, I think," Flitwick commented before putting his wand away. "Perhaps I'll walk with the two of you back to your quarters."

Filius moved past him, and Snape glared at Harry until he followed the shorter man down the stairs. He was not going to give the boy an opportunity to run for it. Harry glared at him as he followed Flitwick.

Once they were all at the bottom of the stairs, Flitwick began speaking again, "I'm sure both of you are having a difficult time adjusting to your new circumstances."

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Flitwick continued, though he looked at Harry who was walking next to him now, "But, Harry, you really must be more careful than to run around the castle. You're the only student here, and most of the staff will be leaving soon. Did you know some rooms in the castle only appear once a month for half an hour? What if you had wandered into one of those? Hmmm?"

Snape felt an odd sensation in his chest at the thought of the boy wandering into that room. He couldn't identify the feeling, and it didn't go away until he reminded himself that that room was kept locked by spells invented by the talented Charms professor walking in front of him, now. There was no way a first-year student would be able to get inside. Hell, he wouldn't be able to make it past all those locking spells before the door vanished again.

"Sorry, Professor," the child mumbled.

"You need to take better care, my boy. I understand that for a child the temptation is nearly irresistible. Of course, with everything going on right now a walk probably sounded like the best way to stop your mind from spinning. However, next time, try to think about the consequences of your actions."

"Yes, sir."

"Severus, would you mind if I came into your quarters to finish my midnight snack before it gets cold? I'm sure Harry will get himself back into bed."

"Of course, not," Severus agreed. He wondered if he'd be receiving the same sort of talking-to that Harry had just received. The idea was ridiculous, of course. He hadn't been a student for over ten years. And, honestly, what had he done to warrant a rebuke of any kind? It must have been the early hour of the morning putting such thoughts into his head.

They reached his quarters a moment later. Apparently, he'd forgotten to close the door on his way out.

Blasted boy.

Flitwick wished Harry a goodnight as the boy all but ran to his room. Snape debated momentarily if he should follow the boy and give him a lecture about running off in the middle of the night and bothering school staff during the summer months. Flitwick's voice made the decision for him.

Filius had made himself comfortable in the same chair Severus had occupied when he'd talked to Harry earlier that night. "I take it your first day as a father isn't going well?"

Snape cringed but sat down heavily. "We haven't even talked about that part of today's events."

"Oh?" Flitwick took a bite of his sandwich.

"I...it's not..." Severus wasn't sure how to explain the situation.

"It's new information that has completely shattered your worldview, and you don't know what to make of it yet."

Severus sighed and nodded silently in agreement. It sounded quite simple when Filius said it that way.

"Or how to talk about it."

Another nod.

"Would you care to practice on me, my boy? I've still half a sandwich to finish."

Severus was surprised at how little of an invitation he needed as he began talking. "Lily came to me about six months after she married James. She said she was going to divorce him." He sneered, "Unsurprisingly, James never really outgrew some of his bullying tendencies."

Filius said nothing, merely ate and listened. There was no judgment and no defense of anyone's actions. No inquiries for further details that Severus would never divulge because those details belonged to Lily alone. She may not have asked him to keep her secrets, but she didn't need to.

Snape was grateful, for the unspoken understanding.

"She stayed with me for three months." And those were the happiest three months of my life, he thought. "And then it was over. She went back to James."

"Severus," Flitwick's voice was firm but also understanding and gentle, "no one is asking you to defend yourself. However, I would suggest learning how to attack the situation head-on. You must decide on a course of action, and then take the necessary steps to see your plan through while also being flexible and willing to adapt to change."

Snape opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. He had spent the majority of the day avoiding thinking about the situation after all. And avoiding the boy. That was hardly facing anything head-on. And so far, that course of action has not resolved or made the situation more pleasant.

"The way I see it," Flitwick's voice rose, as though he were contemplating some fascinating bit of spell theory. "You have two choices: accept the boy or don't. If you try to accept him it will be challenging at first. If you don't, then you'll have to stay out of his life forever which may or may not be as challenging. Both options come with advantages and disadvantages."

"It's not that simple," Snape protested weakly.

"Isn't it?"

Severus paused for a moment, "He hates me."

"I would argue that hate is easier to work with than indifference." The Charms professor placed his now empty plate on the table.

Snape thought for a moment. Flitwick had an astounding ability to make everything seem simple. Logical. To reduce even the most complicated of situations down to a basic level that made it less daunting.

Yet..

He lowered his head to stare at the floor. "There's a part of me that is... pleased with the situation. Pleased that James Potter - who loathed me more than he loathed the Dark Lord - didn't even realize he was raising my child. He died thinking he was protecting his own son, and I hope that he's spinning in his grave over the revelation that I'm the boy's father."

He waited to hear Filius's admonishments for such thoughts, as he kept his eyes steadfastly fixed on the floor. Waited to be scolded like a child for inappropriate behavior. Criticized for thinking in a way that was contrary to the 'proper' way of things. But those words didn't come, and he continued speaking after a moment.

"That's the only part of me that wants to recognize I'm the boy's father." The admission made him uncomfortable. As though he'd said something that wasn't a lie, but wasn't the truth either. "That alone should prove I'm not meant to be one."

He heard Flitwick leave the chair and move to his side. A small, yet older hand rested on his knee. "Give yourself some credit, my dear boy. Most of us have those same types of thoughts but lack the courage to acknowledge them. Let alone share those thoughts with another. You've given that part of you a voice, yes. You can hear and acknowledge it's arguments. Now you have to allow the other parts of your heart and mind to have a voice, as well. Once you do, the results may surprise you."

They lapsed into silence for a moment before the small hand patted his knee softly. "Get some sleep, Severus."

Snape heard the door open and shut softly behind him.

Severus opened his eyes with reluctance, and he blinked several times to remove the blurriness of sleep. He had no desire to get out of bed yet and simply turned over onto his back. The conversation with Filius came back to him, as he slowly pulled himself from Morpheus's realm. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep immediately after Flitwick's departure. Instead, he'd stayed sitting in the chair staring at the floor until one of his legs went to sleep. Only then did he slowly stand and made his way to his room before crawling into his own bed. The charms professor's words stayed with him even then, and it took some time before he fell asleep.

He would never admit that talking had helped to put his own thoughts into some semblance of order. Or that it helped him breathe easier even though there was an emotional rawness left afterward. The ability to make complex subjects seem simplistic was what made Filius Flitwick an excellent teacher. As well as, a trusted advisor.

He glanced at the clock that hung over his bedroom door: it was nearly one in the afternoon.

Bloody hell.

Severus was suddenly very much awake. The boy had probably destroyed his quarters by now. Or was writing to the Daily Prophet about being starved by his Potions Professor. Or worse, telling Dumbledore some ridiculous story about being locked in a closet.

Damn it.

He made quick use of his bathroom - not even bothering to shave - and dressed quickly.

Stepping out into his living room his eyes almost instantly found the boy sitting at the kitchen table. Working on his summer assignments.

That was unexpected.

"Did you eat breakfast... or lunch?" Snape realized it was a stupid question, but wasn't sure what else to say.

The boy was startled at the sound of his voice and turned to glare at him but said nothing.

"Take out your wand," Snape instructed.

Harry seemed confused but pulled the wand from his pocket.

"Tap the table three times, and say what you'd like to eat."

The child thought for a moment before tapping the table, "Chocolate cake."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as seconds later a piece of chocolate cake appeared. He was at the table in two strides and removed the cake from the boy's reach.

"Hey!"

"You will eat something with more nutritional value than cake."

"It was your idea!" The boy shouted back.

"Last night, at supper, yes," Snape agreed, setting the piece of cake on the counter. "Because it had been a shit day for us both."

Harry crossed his arms and slumped down in his chair, "it's still a shit day."

Again, Severus found himself opening his mouth to take points from Gryffindor for swearing before remembering it was summer. Bloody hell.

"Just eat something else first, Potter, then you can have the cake. I will not have you running to Professor McGonagall and telling her that all I feed you is chocolate cake."

The boy continued to pout.

Snape growled before tapping the table three times in quick succession, "Two full English."

Two large plates overloaded with food appeared on the table. The boy hurriedly shoved his schoolwork into the school bag next to his chair as untidily as possible. Severus sat down in the chair opposite him and pulled one of the plates towards himself while nudging the other in front of the child.

They ate in silence.

Severus managed to clean his own plate in a way he hadn't done in years. His lack of appetite the previous day, and sleeping past lunch had apparently left him feeling ravenous. He noticed that the boy tucked in right away, as well, but barely finished half of the food. Regardless, once the boy was done Severus tapped the table four times with his wand and the plates vanished. He considered for a moment before tapping the table again and requesting a glass of milk.

Harry watched curiously as Snape pushed the glass of milk towards him before reaching for the cake that waited on the counter. He placed the cake in front of the boy, before sitting back into his own chair.

"I suppose," Severus began, "I should provide you with some sort of explanation for yesterday's events."

The boy blinked up at him from across the table but said nothing. Snape didn't need to use Legilimency to see both the trepidation and anticipation run through Potter's mind.

Severus took a deep breath before beginning the story starting with the first day he met Lily on the playground. He left nothing out. Even the things the boy was probably too young to hear, he would not be accused of hiding the more shameful aspects of his past from the child. Including the part he played in his best friend's death. And how'd he begged and pleaded with both Voldemort and Dumbledore to spare her life.

Harry, for his part, only asked the occasional question - usually for clarification of a new word - while the cake and milk were left half-eaten and mostly forgotten in front of him.

"As for my being your..." Severus cleared his throat. The word felt strange, "father." He took a deep breath, "James and Lily's marriage was not as happy as most believe. She stayed with me for three months, and began divorce proceedings during that time."

Harry's head was tilted to the side in confusion.

"Three months after she arrived, she told me that she was pregnant and that she was going back to James." Severus looked down, "I did ask if she was sure the baby was his, and she assured me it was. She said that - for you - she had to give James another chance."

"Why did she lie?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"I can only guess that it had something to do with my association with the Dark Lord, and her concern over your safety."

"Oh."

Snape sneered at the response but said nothing.

"Everyone says I look like James Potter. Except for my eyes."

"Because they expect you to look like him." Severus paused before adding, "It doesn't help that the glasses you wear are identical." The child looked skeptical, causing Snape to roll his eyes, again. "When my hair is short it is wavy and refuses to lay flat. James Potter had to style his hair to make it look that way."

He seemed to consider that answer before becoming sidetracked, "How did my Aunt know?"

Snape tilted his head to the side, "Lily and Tuney were sisters. They may have had a falling out, but if Lily showed up at Petunia's door distraught... even your Aunt would have let her in to talk for a while."

They both remained silent for several minutes, the only sound being Harry's foot tapping against the leg of his chair. Severus didn't know what else to say or do. He'd expected the boy to scream and rant at him again. Insult him. Make an assortment of allegations against him. But silence hadn't been what he expected.

"Perhaps," Severus suggested, "you'd like to take your broom and go flying?"

Harry looked at him with suspicion and confusion.

"I'll accompany you outside, of course, and you'll stay within the quidditch pitch." Snape wasn't sure why he cared about where Harry went flying and didn't want to examine that feeling. "But I'll not have you telling everyone I locked you in the dungeons the entire time you were here."

Harry ran to his room to get his broom.

There were fewer staff members in the Great Hall at supper than there had been the previous evening. Madams Pomfrey and Hooch were both absent, and though Severus was sure Sybill was still in the castle she had decided not to join them. Sinistra was absent, as well, and Severus couldn't remember if she'd told him that she'd be leaving early this year or not. She usually spent her summers traveling to various locations to study the skies from different parts of the globe.

As Severus nudged Harry towards the chair at the end of the table, he overheard Burbage talking to Vector about how she planned to spend a summer "fully immersed" in Muggle culture. Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The last time she'd tried that, it had lasted a week before she'd apparated back to the castle to ask him what do Villagers have to do with something called YMCA.

He'd enjoyed the laugh at her expense.

Once Severus and Harry were seated and began serving themselves, McGonagall - who was sitting across from them today - looked sternly at Severus. "I trust, you'll feed yourself and the boy something more nourishing than chocolate cake tonight, Severus."

Before Snape could snap a snide comment to her, Harry's voice spoke up casually from beside him, "I had cake for breakfast and lunch, too."

Snape sneered down at the child beside him who grinned up at him. He looked away from the boy to see McGonagall's stern expression leveled at him. He contemplated a sarcastic comeback to remind her that he was not a student any longer but decided that would make him sound as though it was his first year teaching all over again. He could already see the amusement in her eyes and had no desire to give more reason to laugh at his misery. He also couldn't defend himself without admitting that he hadn't fed the boy anything at all until after one in the afternoon.

"It won't happen again, Minerva," he promised and made a mental note to torture the child later. Perhaps with an inflating draft or a hiccupping potion.

Severus was relieved to watch the stern expression lift from her face, and went back to filling his plate with food. He was contemplating the nerve of the child sitting next to him when he saw a small hand reach for piece of lemon meringue pie before even considering actual food. He intercepted the pie wordlessly, glaring at the boy.

He heard what sounded suspiciously like a chuckle from Minerva, but when he looked up, she was covering it with a cough.

For the few seconds he looked up, Harry took the opportunity to quickly grab a bowl of some type of pudding.

"Potter," he growled, "that's enough."

The child dug into the pudding with gusto not even glancing up at him.

"His name," Minerva stated calmly, "I believe, is Harry."

He couldn't win.

"Harry," he said between clenched teeth glaring at Minerva for a second longer before turning his attention to the child, "Professor McGonagall is right. You need to eat an appropriate dinner before pudding."

Harry ignored him, not even so much as looking up.

Snape opened his mouth not sure what he was going to say, except to berate the child for not listening when another thought occurred to him. He resisted the urge to smile and instead looked up at McGonagall, "As you can see, Minerva, Harry refuses to listen to reason, however, it can't hurt for the child to eat pudding first. He'll need all the energy he can get while he spends the night scrubbing the floor of the Great Hall with a toothbrush."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy pause about to put another bite of pudding in his mouth. The child's eyes narrowed and he appeared to be trying to determine the seriousness of the threat. Snape raised an eyebrow at him challengingly.

Harry pushed the pudding aside, mumbling something under his breath, but reached for a helping of the Shepherd's Pie in front of him.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Harry was sitting at the kitchen table while Severus sat at his desk working on his lesson plans for the upcoming year. "Can I go flying again?"

Snape ground his teeth together. It had taken almost half an hour after returning from supper to get the brat to work on his schoolwork. Not that he cared if the child did the work or not. But he needed to finish his lesson plans, and he was already behind thanks to Tuney.

However, to catch up he needed some peace and quiet. The damn child hadn't stopped talking for over an hour.

"Potter-"

"Harry."

Snape turned in his chair to look at the boy, "excuse me?"

"McGonagall said you should call me Harry."

"And how many times must I remind you that you will show your professors the proper respect and refer to them by their title."

The damn boy actually rolled his eyes at him before speaking! "Professor McGonagall said you should call me Harry."

Snape considered correcting the boy as Minerva had not told him to call the child ‘Harry,' only reminded him that the boy's name was Harry. He also considered dangling the boy from the ceiling by his ankles for rolling his eyes at him. Both options sounded like quite the hassle, however, and he needed to get some work done.

"How did you know I left to walk around the castle last night?" He could hear the boy's heels tapping against the legs of his chair.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He could tell that he had a headache coming on. "There are alarms on the door to alert me if you leave after I've locked the door."

"Oh."

There was a full minute of silence before the prepubescent voice broke his concentration, again. "You didn't answer my question. About what we're doing tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Snape felt his temple throb from how hard he was clenching his jaw, "I am going to try and catch up from the two days of work I missed, and you are going to work on your school work."

"Oh."

"Indeed," Severus attempted to return to his lesson plans.

"Why do you have to work during the summer? I thought teachers got summer holidays off?"

"Do you plan on bothering me all night with questions?"

Severus didn't hear a response but waited a full minute before trying to go back to his lesson plans.

The quiet lasted for three minutes before he was interrupted again. However, the question was so quiet that he thought he might have imagined it. When he turned around in his chair again, emerald green eyes were studying him too closely for the words to have been imagined.

"Do you want me?"

Snape looked into the eyes of his best friend's child. A child that was also, apparently, his. Or so the annoyingly greedy voice in his head kept reminding him. He decided to answer honestly, "I don't know."

The boy looked down, crestfallen, and started to put his things away in his book bag.

Severus felt an odd ache in his chest, and from some recess in his mind a voice struggled to be heard. He blamed that voice on the need to explain himself. "I don't know... because I still can't quite believe it. I can't believe that Lily lied to me even though I understand her reasons for doing so. I can't believe that Petunia knew and didn't bother trying to tell me." He paused for a few moments watching as the boy looked at him expectantly, "It's barely been two days, Harry. And it's a lot to think about."

The boy resumed putting his things away and didn't look up at him.

"Many parents have about nine months - almost a year - to consider their new circumstances. I haven't even had 48 hours yet." He paused, and wasn't completely sure why his voice suddenly sounded pleading, "Give me just a little while longer to answer that question."

The boy had finished packing his school things back into his bookbag and now held the bag on his lap with his arms wrapped tightly around it. "Where will I go? If you decided that... that you don't want me?"

Severus didn't answer, he glanced down at his lesson plans and decided that he'd already put them off this long. They could wait until tomorrow. He stood up slowly and made his way to the table acutely aware of how the boy's arms tightened even more around his bag. He sat across from the child.

"Bloody hell, boy, you're determined to only ask questions I don't have answers to tonight, aren't you?"

The arms tightened around the bag again.

"What brought this on?"

Harry shrugged.

Snape tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling and mumbled a quiet, "Fuck me." Judging by the look on the boy's face when he looked back down, he hadn't been as quiet as he thought. "Just this afternoon, Harry, I told you how horrible of a person I am. You've spent an entire school year in classes with me, so you've seen how cruel I can be. Why do you even care whether or not I want you? Why would you want me?"

Harry shrugged, again, his voice lacked emotional attachment as he stated matter-of-factly "Because you're my dad."

Severus had never run out of his quarters so quickly before. Not even when one of his Slytherins had accidentally set all the furnishings on fire by exploding a large number of fireworks in the common room. He hoped he'd had the sense to tell the child to stay in his quarters, but he honestly couldn't remember.

He wasn't even sure where he was going until he got near the entrance to the kitchens.

One look at the portrait with the ticklish pear, and he realized that he needed a sandwich.

He tickled the pear while forcing himself to take deep breaths, and when the painting swung open he clambered inside with none of his usual grace. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs. It was like his chest was being squeezed by a troll. The blasted elves weren't helping either as they tripped over themselves to help him.

He was going to pass out. Pass out, hit his head, and die. In the kitchens of Hogwarts.

Fuck his life.

His back found a wall and he slid down it slowly, sitting on the kitchen floor. The elves were giving him a bit more space now. They watched him with concern. Which was not what he needed. He needed a sandwich. He noticed a few were whispering to each other and felt some small relief when one of them nodded their head vigorously before popping out of the kitchens.

He continued focusing on his breathing until he heard soft footsteps approaching, and an even softer voice thanking the elves for looking after him before shooing them away. He had his head buried in his arms that were resting on top of his knees. Despite not being able to see the person pulling a chair closer to him, he knew exactly whose hand rested on top of his head for a moment. He followed the instructions he was given regarding deep breaths.

After several minutes he lifted his head slightly, and Pomona Sprout removed her hand, "Shall I make you a sandwich, dear? You look a bit peckish, at the moment."

Severus nodded not caring to eat, but this was part of the ritual. The same thing they did every time he ended up in the kitchens surrounded by elves, and having a...difficult time dealing with things. It hadn't happened in a couple of years, but apparently, neither she nor the elves had completely forgotten. The first time, he'd only been working at Hogwarts for a month when a nightmare had sent him stalking the halls looking for students up after curfew. It had seemed like the perfect distraction at the time. Thinking he'd seen some enter the kitchens he'd followed. Instead, he'd found his former Herbology professor who saw something off about him.

After that, a pattern emerged. When he needed a sandwich he went to the kitchens. And the house elves would call Pomona.

"Come sit at the table, Severus," Pomona called softly, and his legs obediently complied.

He watched her hands work rhythmically, as she sliced a banana. He'd be having peanut butter and banana this time, it seemed. He liked that. He hadn't had one since the last time she'd made one for him. After a few minutes, she pushed a plate in front of him with two neatly sliced halves of a sandwich. A pumpkin juice appeared a moment later.

"I was expecting you'd be needing a sandwich, dearie, with everything that happened yesterday." Pomona smiled kindly and waited for him to take a bite of his sandwich before she continued. "I hope you told Harry where you were going before you left. Or at least instructed him to stay put?"

Severus's eyes fell, he couldn't remember. How could he tell her that? A voice in his mind screamed at him for his carelessness.

She patted his hand gently, "I'll have an elf keep an eye on him for you."

As she called an elf and asked her to check on Harry and make sure he stayed in his quarters, Severus felt something in his chest relax. The voice quieted.

Harry would be safe in his quarters.

Why was that thought such a relief?

He ate half the sandwich while she talked about a new plant she wanted for her greenhouse. They both knew he wasn't really listening. They also knew that the sound of her voice made it easier for him to breathe and not think.

After a few sips of pumpkin juice he interrupted her, "He said I was his dad."

She smiled softly, "Severus, love, the entire castle knew that within fifteen minutes of Madam Pomfrey doing the blood tests." 

Snape's mouth dropped down at the corners and to hide the fact his bottom lip was starting to stick out slightly (he was not pouting!) he took a bite of sandwich.

"Did he call you "dad" or simply state it?"

Snape thought back for a second. The boy had said the sentence with a shrug and some confusion in his voice. But he always sounded slightly confused, so perhaps he couldn't rely on that. "More of a statement of fact."

Pomona made a low noise of acknowledgment, "he's very young, Severus. In his mind, there is a certain way the world is supposed to work. Parents, in his mind, are supposed to love their children unconditionally. He's old enough to know that isn't always true, but at the same time, he wants it to be true. He's just as conflicted as you are."

Sprout's words and voice calmed him, slightly, but also made him feel like a horrible human being. More horrible than he already was. Tuney's words rang in his head, ‘a pathetic, worthless, spineless little ragamuffin who grew into an even more pathetic man who thinks he can pretend to be something he isn't.'

He felt the truth in that sentence in every fiber of his being from his bones to his soul.

"Whatever you're thinking," Pomona interrupted, "it's not true."

"You don't know what I'm thinking," Snape argued with her although the affront in his voice sounded more like petulance.

"I know that whatever you're thinking is filled with self-loathing and overly harsh criticisms. You're a good man Severus. Whether you like it or not. And no amount of posturing will make those who know you say otherwise."

"There's no need to be insulting," he responded. The cruel words being shouted at him in his mind seemed to quiet down at her words.

She shook her head slightly and gave him a knowing look. "Have you finished your sandwich?"

He looked down at the nearly-eaten sandwich and sighed. "I have to go back to my quarters, don't I?"

"If for no other reason than to keep that boy of yours from terrorizing the poor house elf."

He made a slight face at how she'd referred to Harry - it simply didn't sound right to his ears - but he didn't correct her. "He's incorrigible."

Sprout nodded her head, "Yes, just like his father, as you're so fond of saying."

He glared at her.

She smiled kindly back at him.

"I was nothing like that," he argued weakly.

"Of course, not," Pomona agreed. "You always trusted the adults around you to know more than you. And at age eleven you had the astounding ability to actually think before you acted."

Severus forced a smirk, "I was rather brilliant..."

Sprout laughed.

Snape smiled.

When he returned to his quarters the child was sitting in one of the chairs by the fire reading one of his textbooks. The boy looked up when he entered and the ever-present look of confusion was on his face.

"Are you okay, Professor?" There was hesitation in the child's voice as he asked the question. As though he wasn't sure if he should ask or not. "You ran out awfully fast. Did you forget something?"

Snape cleared his throat, "nothing for you to worry about."

The boy stared at him expectantly.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths. He was going to need a lot of sandwiches before the summer was over.

"What will we do tomorrow?"

Snape sat in the chair opposite the boy. The child would continue to ask that question every night until he had a schedule. Children needed structure. Routine. He didn't need to be a teacher to know that, and he supposed that their... whatever this was... would go far more smoothly if the child had an idea as to what to expect most days.

"I do have work to complete for the next school year," Snape informed him. "So, while I am in my office working, you shall remain here in my quarters working on your assignments. I'm usually done with next year's lesson plans in less than two weeks. That should give you plenty of time to finish your summer assignments."

There. That counted as a schedule, right? Not as detailed as a class schedule during the school year, but a schedule. That should satisfy the boy.

"All day? I can't go flying?"

Snape considered; the boy would need to burn off energy. "We'll have breakfast here. At lunchtime, I'll collect you and we'll go to the Great Hall. Then I'll bring you back here for a few more hours. About an hour and a half before supper, I'll collect you again... to go flying."

"Really?" Harry's smile was so large that Snape wondered how his face didn't hurt.

"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean."

Harry continued to smile as though Severus had given him a million galleons.

"After supper, we'll return here where you will get cleaned up and," Snape paused unsure of himself, "amuse yourself however you please as long as it is not disruptive or life-threatening. And you will be in bed at ten."

Harry made a face, but it disappeared quickly before he raised his hand.

Snape sighed, "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Harry," the boy reminded him.

Snape swallowed, "yes, Harry?"

The boy lowered his arm, "can I go to the library to get some more books?"

Snape glanced at the clock on the wall. "We can go now if you'd like. That way you'll have what you need for tomorrow."

Harry grinned and went to put his shoes on.

"And you're taking a bath when we get back. You smell like the quidditch pitch," Snape stood from his chair walking over to the door to wait on the boy.

"I like how the quidditch pitch smells." Harry was sitting on the floor pulling on his trainers still.

"Nevertheless," Snape replied, "you'll go to bed clean."

The boy barely had his second shoe on before he jumped up off the floor. He waited patiently for Snape.

"Let's go." Snape held the door open for the boy before closing it behind them.

Surprisingly, the next several days passed without incident, and Severus was surprised that he had made it a total of four days, two hours, twenty-six minutes, and forty-three seconds without murdering the boy. Rather, he'd found himself... not minding having the child around. At least, not minding as much as he had expected.

The boy still asked too many questions. And talked too much. And made too much of a mess in the bathroom.

But he didn't seem to... expect much. The child seemed mostly content with working on his schoolwork, reading, and flying. In fact, he enjoyed flying around the quidditch pitch to such an extent that he found himself doing something rather horrible. At least, that's what he told himself. Of all the contradicting thoughts in his head he found none so confusing as the one suggested he finish his work early to take the child outside for exercise.

He'd even considered unlocking Hootch's shed so he could dig out a snitch for Harry to chase around. Surely, that would be more fun for the boy than dodging in and out of the quidditch hoops and doing nose dives that made his chest hurt in that uncomfortable way. However, Severus thought better of it. It was best to remain on Hootch's good side. As a general rule - to which Madam Hootch was no exception - Hogwarts staff were formidable witches and wizards that it was best not to anger.

Regardless, he'd already decided that Saturday he would take the child to Diagon Alley for some of next year's school supplies (robes would have to wait in case the child had a growth spurt). While there he would purchase a snitch for Harry to keep himself entertained. It wasn't a gift, he reasoned, merely a tool to distract the child.

A knock on his office door distracted him from his thoughts and his lesson plans. However, before he could wave the door open Albus Dumbledore walked in with Harry in tow. Albus must have retrieved the boy or Snape would have been alerted by the alarms on his door if the boy had left on his own accord. Regardless, this did not bode well. What had the child done this time?

"Headmaster," Snape greeted, "is everything alright?"

Snape's eyes went to Harry who standing next to the older wizard. He tried not to think about why he was intently studying the child for any sign of something amiss. He didn't notice anything obviously wrong with the child. More importantly, he was not looking the boy over because he was concerned about the boy.  That was an absurd thought.

Dumbledore sighed and took a seat in one of the chairs opposite Severus's side of the desk. His gaze gave nothing away. If the old man was shielding his thoughts whatever he was here to say would not be pleasant. "I'm afraid not, my boy."

Harry sat cautiously in the chair next to Dumbledore not taking his eyes off the older man. Even the perpetually confused boy seemed wary of Albus's words.

Severus simply waited. He forced his eyes to remain on Albus.

"I was hoping this wouldn't happen. Or at the very least it wouldn't be a concern. But considering what happened with Professor Quirrell..." the Headmaster paused, and Snape felt his stomach drop uncomfortably. Whatever the Headmaster was about to say, he would not like it. At all.

"As you're aware, and as I explained to Harry on the way here," Albus turned his head to smile at Harry who returned the grin, "Harry was protected at his Aunt and Uncle's home because of the blood wards. I was hoping, against all hope, that Petunia hadn't fully rejected him. That she and Harry might still consider Privet Drive his home in some way. That it could be a safe haven should it be needed in the future."

"Alas," the Headmaster continued, "that is not the case. The wards are becoming weaker by the moment." The pause that followed the Headmaster's words was long and sat heavily around Severus. His chest seemed to constrict ever so slightly, even as his heart rate increased. He remained perfectly still, however, his eyes never leaving Albus's.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, clearly feeling the silence to some degree, as well.

Albus turned to Harry with a sad smile, "It means, my boy, that you will have to return to your Aunt's home. For your safety and hers."

"NO!" Harry was up out of his chair so fast that Snape wasn't sure he hadn't apparated from a sitting to a standing position. "I won't go back there! I can't! They hate me!"

"Harry-" Dumbledore tried to calm him.

"No! You can't-"

"That's enough," Severus' low voice hissed the command in a way that easily stopped students in their tracks. He did not need to raise his voice as many students would attest to. And just like any of his students, Harry obeyed almost instantly. "You will sit down and stop yelling this instant."

Harry looked at him and Severus could see the hurt and betrayal in his eyes. Snape's mind raced to understand why his words would cause such emotions. He ignored the voice in his head asking why he cared that those particular emotions were directed towards him if he didn't care about the boy. Regardless, he glared until Harry complied and returned to his seat.

"Is there no other way, Albus?" Severus asked, the sinking feeling in his stomach indicating that he already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid not, Severus. If Voldemort is getting stronger - and I believe he is - then those protections must remain in place."

"Then I'll be accompanying him." Snape's eyes widened, and he was sure his shock was evident on his face. Had he said those words aloud? Surely they must have come from another person hidden somewhere in his office. Why would he volunteer to go with the boy? How had those words slipped out? He certainly didn't want to stay with Tuney. He'd hoped to never see her again. Fuck. How did this keep happening? It was like his mouth and his mind were each behaving independently, and neither were consulting him about their actions.

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled madly.

Snape glared at him.

Harry yelled.

"NO! You can't!" The boy was out of his chair again, and his panic was evident in how his head snapped back and forth between him and the Headmaster. His green eyes were wide, not unlike a deer in the headlights of an automobile, but eventually, they settled on the Headmaster. The desperate plea in his voice gave Severus pause, "Please, if I have to go back, please, don't let him come!"

Severus considered letting the boy win the argument. He had no desire to spend even a second with Tuney let alone however long it took for the wards to strengthen. Why he wanted to accompany the boy, he couldn't say. That same part of him that made his chest ache when he thought the child would fall off his broom seemed to have taken over his common sense. He couldn't not go with the child. He'd only just found him.

This constant conflict in his mind about what he wanted to do was tiresome, to say the least.

"How long," Severus ignored the boy's objections, "will we need to stay for the wards to strengthen?"

"No more than a month," the Headmaster seemed content to ignore the upset child, as well. He smiled at Severus warmly. It was disconcerting. "Not a day more than that."

Severus nodded. One whole month with Tuney. Fucking fantastic. "I trust you'll inform her of this development before we show up at her doorstep."

"I'll visit her personally this afternoon."

Severus looked at Harry and had difficulties keeping up with the range of emotions flashing through the boy's eyes. Hurt and anger seemed to be vying for dominance, but there was a rush of other emotions that Snape couldn't properly identify. Preteen emotions were exhausting. He looked back at Albus, "I planned on taking Harry to Diagon Alley on Saturday morning to pick up a few things. Please, inform Petunia to expect us that afternoon."

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled!" The Headmaster said enthusiastically, causing Snape to roll his eyes. The old man knew nothing about Tuney that much was obvious.

"Thrilled is not the word I would use," Severus commented, his eyes moving from Dumbledore to the child in the chair next to him. Harry was slumped down with his arms crossed. Severus couldn't tell if the child was angry or on the verge of tears. Perhaps both? Children his age were so confusing.

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore stood, "I have a few errands to attend to before speaking with Petunia. I'll provide you with a few legal papers before Saturday, Severus, including the ones Petunia needs to sign for Harry to be legally placed into your care."

"Thank you, Albus." A rather suspicious voice in Severus' head wondered what benefit it was to the Headmaster to encourage a relationship between Harry and himself. Albus did like his overcomplicated schemes, after all. Clearly, the man had already factored in their relationship into his plans.

Dumbledore was practically out the door when Snape heard his reply, "Of course, my boy, of course. And best of luck to you and Harry."

"We'll need it," Harry mumbled.

Severus looked down at his papers. He could easily bring them along to Tuney's house. He'd probably have plenty of time there to work on them since they'd be living there for a month. This would change all his plans for the holiday, of course. He'd spent his free time during the school year researching the effects Billywig Wings had in combating poisons containing Belladonna. He had planned on spending the summer writing a few papers about his research. That was most likely not going to happen, now.

Regardless, of his altered summer plans. It was Thursday afternoon. He and Harry had only two days before they'd be on Petunia's doorstep. Only two days before he'd have to speak with Tuney again.

He looked at the boy who hadn't moved since Dumbledore left. At least the boy would have a cousin to play with instead of just sitting around with his Potions Professor. Surely that must be far more entertaining? Not to mention that Petunia and Vernon - despite what happened at Kings Cross - were the only family the boy had known. He must want to see them again, right?

Based on Tuney's unceremoniously throwing the child at him in King's Cross, the child was not as celebrated at home as he imagined. Though why or how he'd convinced himself that Tuney would embrace anything magical he couldn't say. Regardless, the child was obviously spoiled to some degree by Tuney or he wouldn't be nearly as arrogant.

A question swept through his mind, is the boy really that arrogant?

Suddenly, he didn't want to examine his thought processes on the matter.

Snape sighed and leaned back in his chair studying the child, "We're going to Diagon Alley now instead of Saturday. Do you need anything from our quarters before we go?"

Harry shrugged.

"You're not the only one who would rather not spend another second in your Aunt's company, you know? Do I need to remind you about what happened at King's Cross?"

Harry looked up, his eyes narrowing, "then why come? The Headmaster said I'm the one who has to stay there. Not you."

Snape could have kicked himself for reminding the boy of that incident. How did the child always seem to know the questions that he didn't have the answers to? Harry's words from the other night came back to him, and he did his absolute best to copy the child's matter-of-fact tone going as far as to throw in a shrug, "because you're my son."

Harry's face morphed into one of complete shock and (Snape was pleased to see) a bit of panic at those words. Serves the brat right for sending him into a panic the other night.

"Now," Snape continued, "let's go. We have a lot of shopping to do before going to stay with Tuney."

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."

Friday flew by faster than either Severus or Harry wanted, and they both reluctantly packed their things late Saturday morning. Severus found himself wondering if he'd have to share a bathroom with Harry while at Tuney's house.

Bloody hell, he needed to get his own bathroom back. Where the boy's hair couldn't clog his shower's drain. Where there wasn't constantly water all over the counter from the child's sloppiness. Where any stray flecks of toothpaste were undoubtedly his own. If he were the type of person to sigh longingly over something he would sigh longing over just the thought of an unshared bathroom. But he wasn't. And he didn't.

At least not that Saturday morning.

The boy was unusually quiet and seemed so reluctant to pack that Severus nearly did it for him. Eventually, the child managed to sort through his things and pack only what he needed for their time at the Dursleys. The foolish child seemed to think he'd need to bring everything with him. Severus had caught him packing his school uniform into the trunk when he'd come into the boy's room to bring him his toothbrush.

The idiot child seemed inordinately confused regarding why he wouldn't need his uniform during the summer.

Eventually, the boy retrieved his owl from the owlery, and they were ready to leave. Snape shrunk their belongings though Harry held on to Hedwig's cage with both his arms wrapped around it as he sat on one of the chairs. It almost looked like the boy was trying to hug the owl with how he had his head resting against the bars; his arms encircling it as best they could.

The owl nipped at his hair and cooed as though trying to comfort the boy.

"I don't want to go back," Harry's voice was quiet and Snape wasn't sure if the child was talking to him or the bird.

"Let's get going," Severus decided to ignore the comment, " Tuney is expecting us."

The boy's lips twitched slightly, "she hates being called that."

"Then I shall endeavor to use the name as much as possible."

Another twitch of the boy's lips, but no comment. After a moment the boy reluctantly stood and began walking towards the door, his feet dragging.

His feet continued dragging all the way to the Hogwarts' boundaries. Snape forced his jaw to unclench as he stopped and waited for the child. The boy still held onto his owl's cage as though he were a scared toddler clinging to a beloved toy.

Not that Severus could blame him. After what happened at King's Cross he wasn't looking forward to a month with Tuney and her family any more than the child was. But at least he was prepared for her temper now. Though he had promised the Headmaster earlier that he wouldn't do anything to intentionally infuriate the woman further. They needed her to... maybe not welcome them into her home...but at least accept them as members of the same family. As a result, he couldn't give Tuney a taste of her own medicine. At least not on their first day.

Bloody hell.

Family. With Petunia Fucking Evans... or Dursley. Whatever she preferred, now. There was a time when he'd have willingly embraced being part of the Evans family. Of course, Lily was always there with him in his mind. He wouldn't have even minded if that meant Petunia was family, as well. He'd adored Lily's parents as a child. He'd cried when he heard of their respective deaths. Despite James being there, as well, he'd stood next to Lily at both their funerals.

Severus tried not to think about how Lily's parents died not knowing he'd turned away from the Dark Lord.

He hoped they knew how truly sorry he was.

The boy was next to him, waiting for him. Lily's son. Mr. and Mrs. Evans' grandson.

"It'll be alright," Severus looked at the boy as he spoke, but knew the words were more for himself than the boy. "Tuney has a vindictive streak and can clearly hold a grudge, but an apology should let her feel self-satisfied enough to calm her down a bit."

The boy made a sound of disbelief.

Snape produced a cassette tape with the tape completely unraveled and wrapped haphazardly around the plastic shell. He tried not to wince at the sight and resisted the temptation to repair it immediately only because doing so would ruin the portkey. It was a KISS album, at that. Dumbledore had no idea what the discarded piece of trash was, who KISS was, or why Severus had looked horrified at the unrolled tape before he even saw the band's name.

"It's a portkey." Severus explained, "We'll both touch it, I'll say the activation word, and we'll be transported to Tuney's backyard." He paused after the child placed a finger on it, "Then I'm immediately repairing this cassette. Candy Floss."

Snape felt the pull behind his naval and kept a close eye on the child as they were pulled away and dumped unceremoniously into a fenced-in backyard with grass that was just too green. Severus had managed to stay upright, but the boy was sprawled on the ground. Snape, true to his word, immediately repaired the cassette and tucked it into his pocket. Then grabbed the cage - containing an unhappy owl - off the ground while the boy picked himself up.

Severus took a moment to look around the backyard and resisted the urge to sneer. It looked like a picture out of a magazine. Minerva was right: Tuney was trying too hard. Speaking of which, Tuney herself was standing inside the house. She was glaring at them through a closed sliding glass door that appeared to lead into a kitchen.

Snape took a deep breath and approached the door.

It didn't slide open for him.

He tried the handle, but the door didn't budge.

Petunia smirked at him from the other side of the glass. The same smirk she would wear when they were children, yet it was somehow more refined, more conceited, and more pompous on her adult face.

This was going to be a very long month.

Albus had informed the Ministry that an of-age wizard would be staying at the Dursley's home for the summer. Thus, Severus knew he could use magic without Harry getting a letter about performing underage magic from the Ministry. He was unconcerned as he wandlessly cast an unlocking charm, and slid open the door.

Petunia's glare returned with added intensity.

"Good to see you again, too, Petunia."

Petunia didn't budge from blocking the doorway, though Severus could clearly see she was nervous by how she crossed her arms to hide her shaking hands.

"Are you going to let us in?" He kept his voice quiet and casual. At his elbow, he felt the boy tugging the owl's cage from his hand. He released the cage but didn't take his eyes off Petunia.

"I'd rather buy you a tent and have you both camp in the backyard rather than inside my house." Petunia's face showed anger still, but Severus heard the slight tremor in her voice. She knew that without being in a crowded train station he had the upper hand.

Severus resisted the urge to give into his base desire to torment her. To take advantage of her fear. To demonstrate that he was well aware that he had the upper hand. Doing that would make the next 30 days very unpleasant and utterly exhausting. Using that knowledge would be a last resort.

He had other methods to employ instead. "I can understand that," he agreed with her, "and if that is what you'd like, Harry and I will gladly comply." The boy made a sound of disagreement, but they both ignored him. "However, we'll be needing a privy from time to time. And eventually, the neighbors - as close as they are - will notice the smell."

Petunia looked momentarily horrified but stepped aside allowing them access to the kitchen. Severus closed the door once the boy had stepped inside. The child had stopped clinging to the cage with both arms, but where he was holding it with one hand his knuckles were white from the strength of his grip.

Severus took a slow deep breath before speaking and tried not to sound (or feel) like he was ten years old, again, and his father was - yet again - forcing him to apologize to Petunia for some bit of mischief he and Lily had inflicted on Lily's older sister. "Petunia, I owe you an apology. You were right about the letters. I should not have sent them. I should have come in person to check on the boy."

"I'd have unloaded him onto you immediately. Instead, I was stuck with him. He's done nothing but spend the last ten years being a burden to my family. Taking time and attention away from my own son!"

"I'm sorry, Tuney." He wasn't sorry in the least, but he'd never given Petunia an honest apology before, anyway. Why start now? "I'm sure if we work together, we can make this month go as smoothly as possible."

Petunia looked somewhat satisfied: her nose stuck up in the air slightly as she held her head high. She clearly saw herself as a martyr. She called over her shoulder, "Vernon! They're here!"

Snape heard what sounded like a small elephant running up the stairs even as Petunia's husband came into the kitchen. He assumed the loud steps running away from the kitchen belonged to Tuney's boy.

The man cleared his throat and opened his mouth having clearly rehearsed this moment in his head. Severus didn't let him get the words out. He took a step towards the man reaching out a hand as he spoke, "I doubt you remember me, sir. My name is Severus Snape, I was a neighbor of your wife's when we were children. We met a couple of times, some years ago. Before your marriage."

The large man was thrown off by the simple introduction and shook Severus's hand due to sheer instinct rather than desire. He cleared his throat, again, once they'd released their hands. "Yes, well, I don't want any trouble while you and the boy are here. It's not like we want freaks like you under our roof."

Snape took a deep breath and reminded himself he couldn't kill the asinine muggle. "Of course," his voice was smooth, revealing none of his emotion, though he knew several students who would recognize the tone as being one of his most dangerous. Including the one that was inching away from all three adults in the kitchen. "Harry and I will be no trouble at all. Right, Harry?"

The boy looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, as all three adults turned to look at him, but he managed to find his voice, "Yes, sir. No trouble."

Severus turned his attention back to Vernon and Petunia who had moved to stand beside her husband. "I do believe Albus Dumbledore has arranged for adequate financial compensation for our stay. Regardless, your hospitality is very much appreciated, and, as a show of good faith, I would like to take your family out for dinner tonight. If that's agreeable?"

Petunia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, but it was her husband who spoke, "I'll not be taking my family to any dining establishment run or frequented by...your kind."

It was too late for Severus to regret making the offer. He'd already been regretting it since the moment he'd had the idea the previous day. But if they were going to make it through this month alive (meaning the Dursley family and Harry) and out of Azkaban(meaning himself) then he would do whatever was needed.

Even if he'd rather try to give the Giant Squid a prostate exam.

Or have tea with one of Hagrid's 'pets.'

Or listen to Albus talk about his bowling pin collection.

Or play Gobstones with Pomona.

Or challenge Flitwick to a duel.

Or place a fucking bet against Minerva Fucking McGonagall, again.

Or all of those things at the same time.

"Of course, the choice of establishment is entirely up to you and Petunia," Severus stated calmly, "perhaps you would like to discuss it while Harry and I get settled?"

Severus looked at the door leading to what Harry described as both 'Dudley's second bedroom' and 'his room.'" There were several brand-new locks on it. All on the outside.

They'd intended on locking Harry in, and based on the small flap at the bottom of the door they hadn't planned on letting him out anytime soon.

Bloody fucking hell.

They'd left the kitchen a few minutes before with instructions from Vernon to Harry that Severus was to have 'Aunt Marge's room.' Whoever Aunt Marge was. No one seemed inclined to inform him, however, and, truth be told, he couldn't care less.

On the way upstairs, Severus noticed they'd passed a cupboard under the stairs that had a lock on it, but he hadn't mentioned it to the boy even as Minerva's words rang in his head. Harry gave him a brief tour of the house as they made their way to their respective rooms.

Upstairs, he'd told him which door led to what: his aunt and uncle's room, the upstairs bathroom, the guest bedroom mostly used by Vernon's sister (Aunt Marge), Dudley's room, and then Dudley's second bedroom.

Not Harry's room. But Dudley's second bedroom. A bedroom that had a door covered in locks, and only a small flap at its base for food. The thought repeated itself over and over in his brain. His mind simply refused to acknowledge the full implications of the locks and cat flap.

Severus wanted to blow the damn door off its hinges.

He considered arson.

Then he considered several ways of murdering both Petunia and Vernon with no one being the wiser. He also contemplated more entertaining ways of murdering them. Then he ruminated on the wonders of antifreeze... with its sweet taste... hardly noticeable when poured into the correct drink...

Harry made to enter the room, but Severus placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Snape's wand slid into his hand. With a wave and a whisper all the locks vanished. He continued staring at the door for a moment, before pushing it open with trepidation. The inside wasn't much better than a prison cell. The bed had only one blanket and pillow. The bare mattress had an assortment of stains that Severus didn't want to think about. What few 'toys' were in the room were broken.

And the window had bars on it.

"Throw a tantrum, and break all your toys in hopes of getting new ones, I take it?" Severus was truly hoping the boy's answer to that was 'yes.' It wouldn't explain the locks or bars, but at least it would be something.

"They're Dudley's. He broke them, and put them in here."

Shit.

What the fuck had they gotten themselves into? Had Albus known about any of this?

Snape swallowed down his rage and murderous intentions. This was not acceptable. But Harry needed the blood wards for his own protection. Harry needed to be safe from the monsters outside of the house.

Severus would need to keep him safe from the monsters inside the house.

"Come with me," he ordered the child and led the boy to the room Harry had indicated to be the guest room. He stepped inside ignoring the hideous flowery décor. He needed a new plan, but that would have to wait. Saying a string of complicated spells and seemingly directing the furniture with his wand, Severus made some changes to the guest room.

Generally, these sorts of things would be discouraged. Especially considering this was a traditional muggle home. In a traditional muggle neighborhood. And muggles simply did not have guest rooms that were bigger on the inside. Let alone guest rooms that opened into a small windowless sitting area with two additional doors that led to two identical bedrooms that looked exactly like Aunt Marge's guest room.

"Wicked!" he heard the boy whisper from beside him.

Snape smirked; it actually wasn't that good. It would do, but he was not an expert on spatial expansion and reconstruction spells. Not that he planned on telling the boy that. For example, he had no idea how to construct the plumping so they would need to use the upstairs bathroom still.

So, now he'd have to share a bathroom with even more people than Harry.

Fucking perfect.

"We will not be telling your Aunt, Uncle, or cousin about this."

"No, sir."

He went to one of the doors that led to the bedrooms. He unshrank Harry's things and placed them at the foot of the bed. "The window is a functioning window. You'll be able to let your owl in and out."

"Sir?" Harry asked, "Won't my Aunt and Uncle notice the locks missing on the door of Dudley's second bedroom?"

He began to swear but cut himself off before the words passed his lips. He stepped out into the hallway and with a flick replaced the locks on the door that would have been Harry's room.

Tuney would pay for this, as would her ass of a husband.

He stepped back into his and Harry's new sitting room. The level of absolute rage he was feeling towards the muggles who owned this home. Muggles who were entrusted with a child...Lily's boy...(a voice in his mind suggested: his child)... a boy he was meant to protect... and would see fit to lock him in a cupboard or in what amounted to a prison cell. He could feel his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Who knew what else they did to him?

A quick 'Legilimens' on Tuney and Vernon and he would know it all, and then he would make them pay for every ounce of hate and neglect they'd inflicted on the boy.

He wanted to release his anger and the only thing stopping him was...the boy sitting on the couch - the only place he could sit as there were no other chairs - watching him closely. Severus felt some of the anger drain away.

The boy was safe, for now.

And though keeping the boy safe had been his priority since the night Lily died, the relief he felt at this moment was different. It settled deeper in his soul in a way that was unexpected and unprecedented. He did not wish to dwell on why.

"Somehow apologizing to your Aunt always leaves a bad taste in my mouth," Severus crossed his arms and made a face as though he'd just bitten into something that had gone bad.

The boy grinned up at him, "If you want, you can lick the bottom of Hedwig's cage. It'll probably taste better."

Snape smiled and found himself chuckling at a long-forgotten memory. "Your mother said something similar to me once."

The boy's eyes widened, and his voice was a whisper, "She did?"

Severus nodded and went to sit on the couch next to the boy. "I don't remember exactly how old we were. Before we went to Hogwarts, at any rate. My mother had caught Lily and me arguing with Petunia when she came to pick me up from your mother's house. I got a bit of a telling off then made to apologize to your Aunt." He smiled as he continued the story, "Once your Aunt went inside - and my mother followed her to speak to Lily's mother for a moment - I told Lily the same thing I told you just now. Lily suggested that I could always lick a toilet bowl."

Harry giggled, but made a disgusted face, "Did you? Lick the toilet, I mean."

"Fuck no, idiot boy." He said the words without any malice, and Harry's smile stayed firmly in place, "Nor, am I going lick the bottom of your owl's cage." Severus hesitated for a moment, "Your mother's second suggestion was that I swear at my mother on the way home. That way she'd use a spell that would leave my mouth tasting like soup. And before you ask, I most certainly didn't do that either."

"I don't think that spell worked, anyway. You still swear, a lot," Harry grinned at him.

Snape narrowed his eyes, "cheeky brat."

There was a knock on the door, and Tuney's voice brought back every ounce of rage he'd ever felt towards her. "Severus, we should be ready in about half an hour."

"We'll meet you downstairs," Severus called back, he looked at Harry whose smile had disappeared at his Aunt's voice. Using every Occlumency skill he knew, he secured his anger and stored it away for later.

The restaurant chosen by Vernon and Petunia was disgustingly ordinary. The sort of place that didn't cook the food as much as reheat it, and charged an outrageous price for the use of their microwave. The type of place that existed for middle-class people who wanted to pretend they had more money than they did.

Snape hoped they didn't all end up with food poisoning. It would make sharing a fucking bathroom even more miserable.

They were seated at a circular table in the middle of the dining room, and their drinks had just been delivered to the table when Petunia found her voice. "We were told that you're a teacher, now, Severus."

Severus kept his face neutral and took a sip from his water glass before speaking. "Yes, I teach Potions."

Vernon hissed turning red, "Don't say things like that here! Someone might hear!"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him but didn't reply.

Petunia ignored her husband, and Severus could easily feel the hatred burning in her eyes. Being in public, it seemed, boosted Tuney's confidence. She felt he would not risk doing magic with muggle witnesses around.

She wasn't wrong.

Petunia's voice was intentionally casual when she spoke, "I'm amazed you found a job at all, Severus. All things considered."

Severus smiled back at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And how is that M.R.S. degree going for you, Tuney?"

Vernon turned red, "how dare you!"

"Vernon," Petunia snapped in a hiss, "keep your voice down!"

Severus smirked but reminded himself that he had to play nice with Tuney.

"What's an M.R.S. degree?" Dudley asked, from his seat between his parents even though he didn't look up from his Gameboy.

All three adults ignored the question, and Dudley clearly didn't care too much about the answer as he went back to playing his Gameboy. Severus longed to snatch the toy from the child's hands and set it on fire.

"Where did you live? I mean, what city? When you were kids." Harry's question was clumsy, and Severus wondered if the boy was trying to break up the tension or was genuinely curious.

Petunia's eyes widened at the question before she turned her head from side to side concerned someone might hear.

"Cokeworth," Severus answered, not at all concerned about being overheard, his eyes didn't leave Petunia.

"Oh," Harry said, simply. "We stayed there once. In a hotel. When the owls were trying to deliver my Hogs...err... school letters."

"I'm sure it was a thrilling vacation," Severus commented, still watching Petunia.

The waitress brought their food out to the table. If Snape had any doubts about the quality of the meal based on the speed at which it was ordered and appeared on the table, then the smell of the unevenly heated food would have easily confirmed his opinion. How fucking hard was it to make spaghetti, honestly?

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He was supposed to be trying to make some sort of peace with Petunia not enraging her further against himself and Harry.

Like fuck he would apologize to her again.

He cleared his throat, "Your generosity is appreciated, Tuney. I know this situation isn't ideal. Harry and I will do anything we can to make our... invasion of your home tolerable."

"Nothing about you, Sev, has ever been tolerable."

"Did you ever like each other?" Harry's despondent voice spoke up from his side. The boy was slouched over his food playing with it more than eating.

"No!" Petunia's reply was immediate and without thought.

"Yes," Severus didn't look at Petunia and waited for Harry to lift his eyes to meet his own. He felt rather than saw the other three at the table looking at him, as well.

"Keep in mind," Snape continued, risking a glance at Petunia, before looking back at Harry, "your aunt Petunia was my best friend's older sister. It was mine and Lily's duty to annoy Tuney just enough to get back at her for bossing us around all the time, but not enough to end up in trouble ourselves."

Petunia snorted, "as I recall you weren't very talented at that last bit."

Severus cleared his throat, "Yes, well, occasionally, it was in all of our best interests to work together."

"Even then you and Lily used to mess it up half the time. Honestly, if you'd have just listened to me and done what I told you to do." Petunia shook her head and stabbed a piece of chicken vindictively with a fork.

Severus ignored the interruption, "one year - when we were still in primary school - there was a winter festival held at the school. It was open to the public, but for various reasons, Petunia, Lily, and I were restricted from going that year. Well, Lily and I fully intended to go anyway and were working out the details when Tuney overheard our plans and she decided to make use of us."

"You make it sound like I took advantage of two innocent little angels who would never consider getting up to any mischief on their own." Petunia shook her head again, and leaned back in her chair crossing her arms, "That innocent act may have worked on others Sev, but I knew you and my sister better than that."

Snape spoke conspiratorially to a grinning Harry, "Do you see what we had to put up with?"

Petunia rolled her eyes.

Severus continued, "Well, Tuney wanted to go to the festival with her friends as much as Lily and I wanted to go. So, she made up a story about taking Lily and me with her to a friend's house or something..." he trailed off looking at Tuney to fill in the gaps in his memory.

Petunia looked at Dudley who was - strangely enough - paying just as much attention to the story as Harry. "A friend of mine did have family in town, and they had a couple of kids around Lily and Sev's age. The story was that I was taking them with me to visit that friend so that all the little kids could have something to do."

"And instead, you all went to the festival?" Dudley asked.

"We did, after meeting up with Petunia's friend," Severus continued as he looked at Harry, "and that is how Tuney taught me that the best lies are those based at least partially in truth."

"You didn't get caught?" Harry looked back and forth between Severus and his aunt.

Snape shook his head, "Nope."

"Not because they didn't try," Petunia added, not hiding her smirk.

"What are you talking about?" Severus rolled eyes.

"The next day you and Lily started talking about the damn festival in the living room! Right in front of my parents! Honestly, the two of you didn't have any sense at all. If I hadn't been there to shut the two of you up then you'd have practically confessed the whole thing to them!"

"I don't remember that," Severus said quietly.

"Of course, you don't," Petunia rolled her eyes.

Severus studied Petunia for a moment. He could, of course, remember a few occasions when Tuney saved him and Lily from some sort of trouble. And even more times when she was the one delivering them into trouble. However, he found himself suddenly wondering if she'd done more for them than he'd realized.

Severus never thought the day would come that he would miss groveling at the Dark Lord's feet.

Now, however, he found himself missing it. Sort of?

Kissing the Dark Lord's ass seemed mildly appealing compared to the hell in which he was currently residing.

Actual hell. At some point, he'd died - he hadn't figured out when or how - but he had. And now he was in hell.

They'd been living with Petunia for almost a week, and while things hadn't gotten worse after that first day, they hadn't gotten better either. For the most part, they all tried to ignore one another, but as upper-middle-classy as the Dursley's residents were, with five people living under the same roof they all felt a little cramped.

Especially, when it came to sharing the bathroom. Sharing a bathroom with one preteen had been bad enough, but sharing with two was nearly intolerable.

Then there was Harry's cousin: Dudley.

The child was the spawn of some diabolical entity. Like something from a horror movie. And was nearly the reason his plans to torture Tuney and Vernon into insanity had gone all to hell. (And he was planning on spending the next three weeks slowly driving Tuney and Vernon mad in ways that could never be proven.)

Snape had been teaching for over ten years. It was his first job after completing his Potions Mastery. He had met and educated a large number of children in that time. He'd even taken on two apprentices who were both fairly young. But he was always in a position of authority over his students. They bestowed some level of respect to him simply by the nature of his position. He was a teacher. They were students. It was simple enough. Even the more rebellious ones he had the ability to discipline, and for the most part they all learned that - after McGonagall - he was by far the strictest professor and not one to mess with.

When faced with Dudley Dursley, however, Snape could not leverage the same teacher/student authority over the boy. To the child, Severus was only what Tuney and Vernon had told him: Harry's cowardly, skint, deadbeat father. And if Severus even so much as looked at the boy he would go running off to Tuney swearing that "Harry's dad" had threatened him in some dastardly way.

Walking downstairs could be a perilous task for anyone. Slide on the edge of a step, and next thing you know you've made it to the bottom in record time; however, you can't enjoy the record because you've snapped your neck. Or leg. Or arm. Or ribs. Or tailbone.

Snape knew this but had never had any problem with stairs or fear of them.

He was simply walking down to the kitchen to get something for himself and Harry to eat for lunch. Apparently, Dudley also wanted lunch. Snape heard the boy pounding down the steps behind him, but assumed the child would stop or slow down or at least say 'excuse me.'

Instead, Dudley elbowed Severus in the side, as he pushed by while shouting, "Get out of the way!"

A few things happened very quickly. Snape felt his foot slip out from under him and grabbed the railing at the same time as he reached out and grabbed the back of the boy's shirt, yanking him to a stop in the middle of the stairs. This motion caused the child to give a little scream of surprise.

Severus glared at the child, but didn't raise his voice as he spoke, "idiot boy! Are you trying to kill someone? You do not go around pushing people on stairs! How-"

Petunia's voice cut him off, "Severus!"

Snape waited a moment then released the back of the boy's shirt who ran to his mother with crocodile tears already streaming down his face. Severus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

Petunia coddled her child at the base of the steps for a moment before sending him off to the kitchen and turning her furious eyes toward Severus. She stormed up to him on the stairs, "How dare you lay a hand on my child! Under my own roof!"

Snape met her glare with one of his own, his voice became gradually louder as he spoke though it never reached the level of a yell. "Your bloody child tried to shove me down a flight of stairs, Tuney!"

"Dudley would never do such a thing!" Petunia yelled at him. Any fear she had of him and his magic flew out the window when her child was involved. Another time, some part of Severus might have respected that she would be willing to face certain death for her child. Right now, was not that time.

"Your son is a menace!" Snape snapped at her, "he's going to kill someone one day. How will you protect him then?"

"That's rich coming from you, you... horrid little man! You're too much of a coward to stand up to other adults so you bully children! Well, I'll not have you abusing my son!"

"Abusing your son!" Snape could hardly believe the woman would suggest he was the one guilty of abuse. His incredulity saturated his tone, "How dare you talk about abuse when you and your husband-"

He was cut off as Dudley pounded his way back upstairs - cake in hand - the boy shoved his large frame between him and Petunia once again shouting, "Out of the way!"

This time, Petunia was the one who lost her footing, and if Severus hadn't reached out for her, she most certainly would have fallen backward down the stairs. He took a moment to steady her before crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. He didn't need to say anything. The child had proven his point for him.

"He didn't mean to!" Petunia immediately defended, "he's just a boy! He gets overly excited and doesn't understand his own strength!"

"Then teach him!" Snape snapped back and made to continue his way down the stairs. At the base of the stairs, he turned back around to face her. "You're his mother, he nearly broke your damn neck, and you're making excuses for him. That's not teaching him a damn thing."

"Do not tell me how to raise my child!"

"You're not raising him at all! You're just giving him everything he wants!"

Petunia's next words froze the very air around them, and hung in awkward silence for a moment after the last word was shouted, "Why shouldn't I give him more than what we had growing up in that miserable working-class hovel of a town?"

Snape knew how she felt about their upbringing. The Evans weren't much better off than the Snapes. They still lived in the same neighborhood in Cokeworth. In the shadow of a textile mill destined to go bust. Neither family had much money to spare on frivolous luxuries for their children. No one in the neighborhood did, really.

Snape's voice was softer when he spoke. He understood Tuney's shame about where they came from. He'd felt that same shame for years. Felt it strongest when he'd started at Hogwarts where there was a greater mix of social classes than at his and Lily's primary school. Felt the anger and embarrassment at showing up in second-hand clothes with second-hand books.

Knew what it was like to be picked on and bullied simply for being born into circumstances beyond his control.

But unlike Petunia he had grown up. He'd learned some sense of respect for people like his parents and Lily's who had tried their best to swim against the current of a polluted river that was a carefully disguised caste system. He may not brag about where he came from, but he wasn't humiliated by it any longer.

"You're right, Tuney. Your child deserves everything we couldn't have." He hesitated for only a second, "And so does Harry. But there is one thing that you haven't bothered giving to your son: the common decency not to push his mother down a fucking flight of stairs."

He stormed off into the kitchen.

Severus wanted badly to give Tuney's boy a talking-to that would leave his ears burning for months. He contemplated finding a way to get the boy to Hogwarts to scrub cauldrons until he learned some proper respect and civility. At least towards his own mother.

Instead, he'd borrowed Harry's owl to send a letter to Dumbledore ranting about their circumstances.

The Headmaster sent him a bottle of Fire Whiskey in return.

And through it all, Severus tried very, very, hard not to think about the fact that Dudley Dursley was everything he'd thought that Harry Potter would be and wasn't.

Harry, during their first week at the Dursleys, had remained unusually quiet. The nearly constant chatter and never-ending questions he'd associated with the boy during their week at Hogwarts seemed to have come to an abrupt end. Severus didn't know what to make of that, and he absolutely did not miss the sound of the boy's voice.

That was an absurd thought.

Severus shook such foolish thoughts from his head as he left his bedroom. Now that it had been a week, and the Dursley family had let their guard down slightly, he had a plan to put into place. Harry was in the sitting room and appeared to be looking for something he'd lost. He was spinning around in circles, his eyes searching high and low.

A flash of gold caught Snape's eye as something zoomed around his head, and he reached up a hand quickly to catch a golden snitch. He raised an eyebrow at the child who'd seen the action and was now sitting on the couch, "I told you to leave this in your room at Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, moving to sit on his hands that clearly wanted to jump up and grab the golden snitch.

"Then what is it doing here? And loose, no less? What if it had escaped the house and took a trip around the muggle neighborhood? This isn't a quidditch pitch. There are no boundary spells to keep it from straying too far!"

"I wanted to bring it with me. I like looking at it...and, I didn't mean to let it out! I was just holding it for a minute."

"Well, you won't be looking at it for some time now. Accio, Snitch Box." A small golden box - just the right size to contain a single snitch - flew from Harry's room and into his hand. He placed the snitch inside the box causing the wings to stop their fluttering. He tossed the box into his own room and closed the door. Then he made the mistake of looking at the child on the couch. Severus found himself overwhelmed by the emotions floating through the child's mind. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back at the child. "You'll get it back once we're at Hogwarts."

The child looked like he might start crying.

Severus briefly considered throwing a wobbly himself. It might make him feel better. It seemed to work for the Dudley brat.

Instead, he started to leave their modified bedroom/sitting room and the boy. He had things to do after all, and figuring out the complex emotions of an eleven-year-old was not on his list.

"Please," The single word from Harry's lips was a plea.

Severus stopped but didn't turn back around.

"Please," the boy repeated. "I won't let it out again, I promise. It's just...I don't...I've never had..."

Severus turned back around. The boy was on the sofa still, scrubbing at his face in a vain attempt to hide his tears. The child hadn't completed his sentence, but Snape had a suspicion he knew what the child was trying to say.

Harry didn't have any toys in 'Dudley's second bedroom.' The entire week they were at Hogwarts together he hadn't seen the child playing with any other toys. Or occupying himself in any way except by reading and homework. The only toy he had was a stupid snitch.

The fucking snitch he'd bought the boy.

Snape hated the realization that he was the only person to buy the boy something to play with in the decade since Lily died. The only person since then to give the child something to hold onto.

Shit.

Did the idiot boy sleep with the damn thing next to him at night?

Severus walked back to his room and picked up the haphazardly discarded golden box. He handed it awkwardly to the child who was silently crying on the couch. The child cautiously reached for it, but Snape didn't release his hold right away, instead waiting for teary eyes to meet his own.

He cleared his throat. He was only doing this because a bored and pouting Potter would ruin everything. "If it leaves this box, again, I will confiscate it. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded his head, "Yes, sir."

He released the box and watched how the boy pulled it quickly to his chest like it was his most treasured possession.

Severus left the room.

Breakfast and dinner were eaten in the dining room as a ‘family,' though no single individual sitting at the table would call the group a family. Severus had volunteered to assist with meal preparation on their first full day at the Dursley residence. Petunia had firmly refused the offer.

Snape figured she expected him to poison all of them.

The idea was tempting.

Regardless, Severus made a point of being in the kitchen whenever Petunia started preparing dinner and volunteered to help. It was more than her oaf of a husband or her spoiled brat of a son ever did, and Severus was disgusted by the stereotypical gender roles at play in the Dursley household. It made him feel rather sick, and almost sorry for Tuney.

Almost.

She clearly relished the role.

He was sitting at the kitchen table - his offer to peel potatoes declined - attempting to engage Tuney in conversation when Vernon entered the kitchen.

The large man ignored Severus and went to his wife - kissing her cheek - before setting his briefcase on a barstool. "Today was bloody awful, Pet."

"What happened?" Petunia sounded interested, and Severus couldn't determine by her tone if the interest was real or fake.

"I must have run over something in the road because when I got to work both front tires were nearly flat. So was the spare! Not that one spare would have done any bloody good!" Vernon sat down at the table taking off his tie and still talking to his wife. "I called a tow and had the car taken to a shop. While I went to work. They were supposed to have it all taken care of before lunch. But when I went out to check the damn thing was still in the car park, and some stupid teenagers had spray painted a rather rude word on it. When I called the tow they said they'd received a notice of cancelation not ten minutes after I requested the tow." Vernon was shaking his head, and his face was growing more and more red at the memory of what happened. "By the time I got off work they'd taken the car, but said it wasn't fixed yet! They'd found a ton of other issues with the bloody car! I had to take a cab home!"

Severus looked concerned while internally smiling. He silently thanked his father for teaching him a few basics about automobiles.

"They said," Vernon continued, "that it looked like I hadn't done anything to maintain the car in years!"

"That's absurd!" Petunia responded moving around the kitchen, "You take the car in every six months!"

Vernon nodded in confused agreement, "That's what I said! I think the damn shop must have been taking my money without doing the work! That's the only thing that makes sense!"

"Or," Severus cut in smoothly, "It's the new shop you took it to. They may have been trying to get more money from you."

Vernon's face told Snape that this idea hadn't occurred to him.

Severus shrugged and went back to silently listening to the conversation. Based on the shade of purplish red Vernon's face had turned a little bit of paranoia had gone a long way. He was beginning to understand why Albus always seemed to smile so serenely when one of his plans was playing out nicely.

Over their second week at the Dursley's a great many things kept going wrong for the Dursley family.

Vernon's briefcase refused to open one day.

Petunia had the worst acne outbreak that she'd had since she was a teenager.

The electrical outlets in Dudley's room seemed to stop working, but only when the child was alone in the room. Whenever he dragged one of his parents upstairs to investigate everything would suddenly start to work.

Vernon lost his keys on an almost daily basis.

Petunia consistently burned the toast and every egg she touched would burst open at the lightest touch.

The end of the second week culminated in the fridge breaking overnight leaving the kitchen floor covered in water and everything in the fridge and freezer going bad. Vernon left for work stating he'd grab breakfast on the way.

Petunia called the repair people but had nothing to fix for breakfast except toast.

Dudley threw a tantrum that set Severus's teeth on edge.

Snape volunteered to take the boys out for breakfast while Petunia waited for someone to come and take a look at the fridge. Tuney was clearly at her breaking point because she willingly agreed to let Severus take her child out of her sight.

Snape barely kept from smirking in triumph. He would have Petunia and Vernon afraid to leave their bedroom in another week, he was sure of it.

Why the fuck did he think this was a good idea?

Snape rarely questioned his own thought-out plans and actions, yet since the end of the school year it seemed as though he was questioning every decision he ever made. Yes, Petunia's agreeing for Severus to watch her child for a bit meant he was succeeding in luring her into trusting him somewhat, but... he was beginning to think it wasn't worth it.

Getting to the café that was within walking distance of the Dursley's home had been the first challenge. Dudley whined about having the walk the entire time. Given the boy's size he'd most likely never engaged in proper exercise before, so the simple task of walking was probably unusual for the child.

Severus was sure, however, that the task would have been far less laborious if the boy had simply fucking walked instead of dramatically dragging his feet and whining. It was absurd. The child took a break every ten steps by lying down on the pavement and complaining. When he was walking he acted like he'd just run a marathon (even though there wasn't a drop of sweat on him).

Harry, for his part, simply walked - keeping his head down - and said nothing. He didn't even make a noise when Dudley tried (and nearly succeeded) in tripping him. The stupid boy acted like this was just how the world was supposed to work.

Once at the café, Dudley quickly - his complaints about being exhausted were forgotten - slid into a booth. Harry cautiously approached the table seemingly undecided about which side of the table to sit on. Severus nudged him to the side opposite of Dudley and slid in next to him.

He immediately felt a sharp kick to his shin.

He glared at the boy across from him who grinned before looking at the menu.

He took the menu from the child. "Do that again, Mr. Dursley, and I'll leave you here to wash every single dish in this café."

"You won't!" Dudley stated making a grab for the menu, "My parents won't let you! And you can't tell me what to do!"

"Your parents aren't here, and I always follow through with my threats, Mr. Dursley." He glared at the child who glared back. Unfortunately for Dudley, Severus had far more practice at being intimidating. Eventually, the child sat back and pouted. Severus placed the menu in front of the boy.

When the waitress came to take their order, the boy tried to order five separate meals all for himself. Severus sent the woman away asking for more time to decide. He then turned his attention to Dudley.

"You will choose one of those meals."

"But I'm hungry!" The whining sound caused Snape to clench his teeth.

"One meal will suffice to fill your stomach, I assure you. Having excess food in front of you will simply cause you to overeat."

The child had clearly never been denied anything before. He kicked the leg of the table, and the only thing that kept him from throwing a tantrum complete with tears is the fact they were out in public. "I WANT ALL OF THEM!"

A few of the other café's occupants looked over at their table. Severus didn't care, "No."

Dudley kicked the table again, and his eyes filled with tears even as he glared daggers at Severus.

"Owch!" Harry explained in pain, and Snape's eyes quickly shifted from Dudley to Harry to see the smaller boy rubbing his shin.

Dudley had kicked him.

Dudley fucking Dursley had kicked the boy. Lily's boy.

The greedy voice seemingly always present in his mind reminded him that the boy was HIS, too.

Severus kept a firm reign on his rage. Dudley Dursley had harmed something that belonged to him. That was not acceptable.

His voice was almost soft when he spoke to the smaller boy, "Are you alright?"

Harry stopped rubbing his leg, but pulled both his legs up, crossing them on the seat of the booth. He didn't say anything and simply nodded his head before looking at the menu as though still trying to decide what to order.

Severus found he had an odd desire to reach out to the child: to place a hand on his messy hair or pat his back.

He did not give in to the unwelcome desire.

Instead, he turned his gaze back to Dudley and hissed through clenched teeth at the child, "What do you think you're doing?"

The boy shrugged with crossed arms and smirked at him from across the table.

"When I ask a question, I expect an answer."

The boy shrugged again, "Don't care."

Severus debated only for a second, before standing from the table, "We're leaving."

Dudley's mouth dropped open, "We haven't eaten, yet! I'm famished!"

"I don't care," Severus replied truthfully, "Now, get up."

Harry was already up and standing next to him. Severus made a mental note to make sure he never left Harry alone with the Tuney's demon spawn.

"NO!" Dudley yelled.

"I'll remind you, Mr. Dursley, that I am the one with the money to buy your breakfast. You can remain here, but you will not be given anything to eat without paying for it."

The boy looked like he might start screaming at any moment, and Severus was fully prepared to ignore a full-blown tantrum coming from the child.

"I'm hungry!" Dudley whined.

"And you'll get something to eat, but if you're going to kick people when you don't get what you want then you will face the consequences. Now, get up."

The boy crossed his arms on top of the table and cried - rather loudly - into them.

Severus rolled his eyes, and left the boy at the table to find the hostess and placed a to-go order. He waited - with Harry next to him - for the food while keeping an eye on Petunia's boy.

He thought back to all the students he considered the worst behaved. The ones he was glad to say goodbye to when they left Hogwarts or didn't make it into his Advance Potions class. He doubted any were as horrid as Petunia's boy. But he'd only known his students in a particular environment. Perhaps many of the brats were this horrible when at home.

The hostess delivered their food in a single plastic bag, and Severus asked Harry to tell his cousin they were leaving while he paid. He reminded Harry to stay out of Dudley's reach when telling him that if he wanted his breakfast hot he'd best move it. Severus watched the interaction between the boys from the register. But Harry stayed well out of reach and was back at his side before the Dursley child had moved from the booth.

They made it out of the café without further incident - Dudley still pouting and dragging his feet. Snape led the boys back the way they came, stopping at a small park with a couple of picnic tables where he instructed the boys to sit before passing out their breakfast.

He'd ordered himself and Dudley a simple breakfast sandwich. For Harry, he'd ordered a Full English. The child needed to eat more.

Dudley finished his breakfast in record time and made to take Harry's from him, but Severus grabbed the boy's wrist stopping him. The boy yanked his arm back as though burned, and once again put his face in his arms to wail loudly. Severus was tempted to tell him that the act would work far better if he managed real tears.

Honestly, it was like the idiot child had yet to realize that Severus didn't care about what he wanted.

Harry, however, seemed happier than he had since the day they arrived, and couldn't stop smiling.

Before Severus could decide if he should scold Harry for enjoying his cousin's misery the Dursley boy's crying took on a more intelligible tone.

"I'm thirsty! I want something to drink!"

Severus motioned with his chin, "There's a drinking fountain over there."

"I DON'T WANT WATER!" Dudley yelled, "I WANT FIZZY POP!"

Severus shrugged.

Harry got up to get a drink from the fountain.

Dudley panted - his face so red it looked like a bad sunburn. The boy certainly took after his father.

Severus watched him apathetically. He wondered if the child behaved like this at school. He knew the boy went to a boarding school, and couldn't imagine this sort of behavior being any more common there than at Hogwarts. He certainly never saw this behavior at Hogwarts. Probably because the children didn't want to embarrass themselves in front of their friends.

Children could be far crueler than adults, after all.

"Dad says people like you are what's wrong with this country." Dudley found his voice, and his eyes were filled with hate as he repeated words he clearly didn't fully understand. "That you and your whole family are just lazy bums!"

Severus ignored the child, and as Harry returned to the table spoke more to him than the Dursley boy. "Ready to go?"

Harry shrugged and opened his mouth to say something, but his cousin spoke first.

"Mum says you're a criminal and a car thief, and they should have locked you up and never let you out!"

Harry looked at him as though trying to figure out if his cousin's words could possibly be true to not. Severus rolled his eyes. "Come on. Let's go."

He stood from the table and began walking back to Privet Drive. Harry walked next to him, and Severus didn't bother to check and see if Dudley followed. The boy wasn't nearly as stubborn as Severus. He would follow soon enough.

They'd barely made it fifty feet when he heard Dudley's whining and dragging feet trailing behind them.

When they arrived back at Number 4 Privet Drive the repairman was arguing with Tuney in the kitchen. Snape could only smirk as he heard the repairman explain there was nothing wrong with the refrigerator. Severus assumed having a witness was the only reason Dudley didn't immediately explain to his mother how Severus had starved and tortured him. Instead, the Dursley boy went to the living room to watch TV (at full volume).

Harry on the other hand practically ran up the stairs. The boy seemed determined to hide in his bedroom as much as possible. The only times he seemed to leave their bedroom was when Severus forced him to come down for supper every night. Severus could hardly blame him, but even he enjoyed spending time outside as a child.

He debated if he should rescue the repairman from Tuney or follow Harry to their magically enhanced room.

For reasons he didn't want to consider, (he noticed he was avoiding thinking a lot and didn't want to think about that either) following the boy won out. He made his way up the stairs to their room. Harry - who hadn't closed the door to his bedroom -  was lying on the floor, and was scribbling away on a piece of parchment. More than likely writing to one of his friends.

The boy looked up when Severus closed the door, but soon went back to writing.

Snape picked up a book he'd left on the couch and sat down. His reading was interrupted several minutes later by Harry sitting next to him on the small couch.

"Professor?"

Severus didn't put the book down, "yes?"

"Did you really steal a car?"

"Sort of," Severus glanced at the boy to confirm that there was a confused look on the child's face.

"How do you ‘sort of' steal a car?"

Snape put down the book. He tried to put an annoyed look on his face. He was absolutely not relieved that the boy started talking and asking him questions. He wasn't. He enjoyed the child much more when he was quiet.

"The car was reported stolen," he explained to the boy, "but when my father realized I was the one who took it... the charges were dropped."

The boy's eyes widened, "you stole your dad's car?"

"I borrowed it without permission."

"Why?"

Severus shrugged, "Your mother wanted to drive. We'd both just started learning how, and we decided we needed to practice."

"Mum was with you?" The boy's voice was almost reverent in its softness.

He snorted, but couldn't keep the fondness from his voice, "I would have gotten into far less trouble throughout my childhood if I had never been friends with your mother. Whenever she wanted to do something badly enough nothing would stop her." Some of the fondness left his voice, but he made sure his tone remained casual, "Not unlike you going after the Philosopher's Stone, or taking on a troll. Or helping Hagrid with a dragon."

The boy had the good sense to turn red with embarrassment.  

"And I know," Severus continued, "we will not see a repeat of anything like that next year. Correct?"

Harry shrugged and traced the lines in the couch's fabric.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to have a headache until the child left Hogwarts. Of that, he was sure.

"Did you and my mum get in trouble? For stealing the car?"

"No," Severus's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "our parents were thrilled that we'd snuck out in the middle of the night, taken a car, and gone on a joyride without our licenses. They were especially pleased about how we'd managed to run the car into a ditch."

The boy giggled.

Severus's lips twitched. But he refused to fucking smile at the boy.

"Did you make the refrigerator break? And mess with Uncle Vernon's car?"

"I did," Severus admitted to the child, he was almost getting used to the boy's jumping from topic to topic, "And I trust you won't tell your Aunt, Uncle, or cousin about that?"

Harry shook his head, still looking at the fabric of the couch. "If you didn't know that you were my dad then why did you write Aunt Petunia letters to check on me?"

Blood boy. Asking questions again. Severus hesitated before replying, "The night your mother died, I made a promise to protect you."

"Oh."

"Your first Hogwarts letter," Severus regretted the words before they fell from his lips, "it was addressed to the Cupboard Under the Stairs."

Harry shrugged, "it was my room before they moved me into Dudley's second bedroom."

Fuck Petunia. Fuck Vernon.

Fuck them and fuck the vaginas they slithered out of.

"Have you been writing to your friends?" None of Severus' anger made it into his tone.

"Yeah," Harry looked up at him, "They keep asking about you. Well, about if you're horrible or not."

"I trust you're telling them that I'm slowly taking you apart for potion ingredients?"

Harry grinned at him, "That and hanging me from the ceiling by my thumbs."

"Excellent idea!"

Harry's grin grew, "Ron said I can come visit."

"And did his parents give their permission for this hypothetical visit?" Severus couldn't figure out where that question had come from. He should be willing to drop the boy with anyone willing to take him.

Harry shrugged, "I guess so."

"Unfortunately, we're stuck here for a couple more weeks," Severus reminded him, "However, I will write Molly and Arthur. If they agree, I don't see why you can't spend a weekend with them."

Why did those words sound so... paternal? Since when did he care about what anyone else wanted? And why not let the boy stay the entire summer? And why was he doing something to make the child happy?

"Why are you doing things to annoy Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?"

Because killing them outright is frowned upon, he thought. Aloud he said, "It's the least they deserve, don't you think?"

Harry's grin faded, and he went back to studying the couch, "It's not very nice though, is it?"

Fuck. Me.

Severus couldn't sleep.

That wasn't an unusual occurrence in and of itself.

It was the reason why he couldn't sleep that was unusual.

As much as he wanted to pretend that the current situation was simple and straightforward, he couldn't.

Because it wasn't.

It was multifaceted and convoluted.

Fraught with complexities of the moral, ethical, and... emotional sort. Petunia and Vernon had treated Harry like nothing more than a house elf. That could not be denied. And was undoubtedly wrong. It was wrong because no child should be treated like that for any reason.

Petunia, however, lost a sister to a world she could never be a part of. Petunia felt as though Lily got special treatment because Lily was a witch. Petunia had a son and wanted to make sure that son never felt like he was less because he wasn't a wizard. Petunia - to protect herself from loss - did what she could to not become attached to Harry.

Hadn't Severus done something similar? Told himself lies about the boy? Created a fictitious and privileged life for the child, and held that life against him? Refused to see Harry for who he was because if he got attached to the child and lost him then not only would he have failed Lily, but he would lose her again, in a way.

Then, of course, there was the boy's observation that his revenge plan ‘wasn't very nice.'

Damn it all to hell.

A tapping at the window had him out of bed and allowing an elderly owl into the room. He took the letter the owl offered him, gave the owl a treat, and sent it out again.

He read the letter quickly. It was from Arthur Weasley. Like Harry's letter earlier it offered to take the boy during the summer. It also suggested they meet in Diagon Alley - along with the Grangers - to pick up the children's school supplies.

Severus shuddered at the thought.

The part that surprised Severus, however, was the inquiry as to how he was holding up. There was an offer for a ‘good home-cooked meal' sent by owl post if he and Harry wanted one. And a thank you for the Fire Whiskey, as well as, an invitation to share a drink together sometime.

A drink didn't sound like a bad idea.

He set the letter aside, for now, and quietly left his and Harry's rooms to make his way to the kitchen. He decided against the Fire Whiskey Dumbledore had sent. He wasn't in the mood for anything that strong. A beer sounded nice.

He knew he wouldn't find any beer in the Dursley's now working fridge - no doubt they considered beer far too low-brow to have in the house. There was probably a bottle of wine somewhere. Wine sounded like Tuney.

He opened several cabinets before he found a bottle of wine on a top shelf. He'd already found a glass (well, a coffee mug), and took his time opening the bottle before pouring a generous serving into the mug. He placed the bottle into the fridge and took a seat at the kitchen table staring at the red liquid in the white coffee cup.

He took a sip of the sweet red wine and focused on clearing his mind. With every drop that stuck to the sides of the cup, he imagined a thought slipping away. With practiced ease, he pushed his thoughts and emotions behind his mental barriers.

The sound of the kitchen door opening drew his attention away from his task.

"Why am I not surprised to find you down here nursing a drink?" Petunia's question was rhetorical, but she noticed his curious look. "I can smell the alcohol from here, Sev." She rolled her eyes, "Tell me, is this your first bottle tonight?"

"My first glass tonight. Not that it's any of your business, Tuney."

"You're in my house. Everything you do here is my business."

He couldn't think of a good argument for that.

She sat down at the table with him.

"Would you care for a glass?" He offered but made no move to retrieve the wine or something to pour it into.

She sneered at the offer, "I'd hardly consider a mug of whatever booze you brought into my home a ‘glass.' And unlike some..." She paused for a dramatic effect, "...I don't need alcohol to cope with daily life."

"You always know just the right buttons to push, Tuney. It's a talent. Pity, it's the only talent you have." He didn't bother to correct her about bringing his own alcohol. Dumbledore did send him a bottle of Fire Whiskey, after all. He began to stand, "good night."

"Why are you here?"

"As Headmaster Dumbledore explained-"

"Harry is required to stay here for the...Blood Wards... or whatever... not you."

Snape nodded, still standing he looked down at her. "The wards protect him from all sorts of horrible things outside of this house." He sneered, allowing all his rage and hatred to come through in his eyes and voice as he hissed his next sentence. "But someone has to protect him from the horrible things that happen to him inside this house."

"First glass indeed. Did you finish off a six-pack before coming downstairs?"

"You locked him in a cupboard, Tuney."

Silence fell in the kitchen. Petunia's mouth opened and closed as though she were constantly changing her mind about what words to use in her defense. As though there was a defense.

"And I hate," he made sure to emphasize the word, "that some part of me understands why you would do that." Because I wasn't much better than you, was left unsaid. He paused for a moment with his hand on the door, but he turned his head away from her. "You could at least try some remorse."  

Snape went back upstairs wondering if the cause of his own rampant thoughts and emotions wasn't fostered by his own remorse.

He was woken up by a loud banging followed shortly by Harry's nervous voice.

"Professor?" His bedroom door was pushed open enough for the child's head to peek through. "Aunt Petunia is at the door." The banging got louder with the door open. "She sounds mad."

"Good for her," he mumbled but got out of bed. Harry waited nervously at the door. Severus's hand (of its own accord) found the top of Harry's head, and he gave the boy a nudge towards his bedroom. "Go to your room."

Snape was across the room in three steps and only just remembered not to open the door too wide before pulling the door open and glaring at Tuney. "Is there a reason you're trying to break down the door?"

"After your overindulgence last night, Severus, I thought it would take more than a tap to get your attention."

Snape rolled his eyes; it was too early to argue with her. "What do you want?"

"Taking after your father, now? Spend the night getting drunk then sleeping all through the next day? Never mind that your son needs feeding, and - "

"Do. Not." Severus ground out between clenched teeth, stepping into the hall and causing Tuney to step back. He didn't care in the least when fear contorted her features. "Do not, finish that sentence Tuney. We've had this argument a hundred times before. Let's just skip to the part where I remind you that my father wasn't sitting alone at the bar."

Petunia wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was directed down the hall though Severus thought her mind was probably back in a past they both tried not to remember. Her arms were crossed, her lips pressed so tightly they were in danger of vanishing altogether.

Normally, Severus would have left the argument with the reminder that his father wasn't the only one who handled the closing of the mill and the stress of unemployment by drowning his sorrows with a few too many beers. He'd leave the argument there. Petunia wouldn't push for a while after the reminder. And at least for a time, things would go back to whatever weird version of normal they had.

Normally.

But fuck Petunia.

"At least, my father has been sober for over fifteen years now. Remind me what killed yours again? Liver disease, wasn't it? Alcohol-related cirrhosis?" Severus regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.

But not because of what they did to Petunia.

He didn't dare hope that any of the Evans watching the scene would forgive him for saying those words.

Petunia looked back at him with even more hatred than usual, "Go to hell."

Petunia all but ran across the hall and down the stairs.

Once she was out of sight, Snape leaned back against the doorframe. The words he'd said left a nauseating taste in his mouth that seemed to be traveling to his stomach. He wanted those words back. Wanted the thought to have never entered his head. What had possessed him to say those things? Just because something was true didn't mean it needed to be said.

He shook his head as though the action could shake the memory from his mind. Only then did he realize that he never found out why Tuney was beating on his door to begin with. He took a deep breath, went back into the bedroom, and called Harry.

The boy came out of his room and looked around their makeshift sitting room with concern. As though he expected his aunt to be hiding in a corner somewhere.

Severus glanced at a clock on the wall noting that it was nearly time for lunch. "I take it, you didn't have breakfast?"

Harry shook his head, "I slept in late."

"As did I," Severus stated, leaving out the part that he'd been up half the night contemplating how fucked up his life had become. (He made sure NOT to think about being the boy's father as that topic was still off limits). He honestly had no idea it could be more screwed up than he'd already made it by taking the damn mark burned into his left arm. But that's what he got for testing fate he supposed.

"I doubt we'll be very welcome in this house today. I may have upset your Aunt a great deal."

"Did she figure out that you've been making things break?"

"No." Shit. How had his plans gone this sideways? "Nevertheless, is there something you would like to do outside of the house today?"

"Go back to Hogwarts?" The child asked hopefully.

Snape snorted, "Something feasible, boy, and close by."

Harry shrugged, "There's not a lot to do around here."

"Surely, there is a museum of some kind? A zoo perhaps? Maybe a movie theater?"

"There's a zoo. We went last year for Dudley's birthday. But we didn't stay long."

Severus stared at the boy. How had this happened? Why was he about to take a child (that few would deny he hated) to the zoo for a day?

A voice - one that sounded just a little too greedy and that was becoming harder to bury beneath Occlumency shields - whispered in his head: because he's yours.

Maybe he should take the child to Hogwarts for a few hours. Severus considered the possibility that he needed a sandwich.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, "Get dressed. We'll grab something to eat on the way."

The boy was a damn parselmouth.

Fuck.

The child had no idea what that was or what it meant. Idiot boy had no idea he was doing it. The child didn't even realize that it wasn't a common thing to understand snake language.

He'd explained it to the child after they left the zoo, and made a note to ask Albus if the scar on the boy's head was related to this unexpected ability. It probably was.

Shit.

While at the zoo the boy definitely found his voice. The questions were incessant and in no logical order. He wasn't even sure if the child noticed when his questions went unanswered. There had been a lull only when they'd had lunch and dinner. But as they returned to the Dursley residence - they had to take a bus and walk the remaining two miles back - the boy's questions became less and less frequent. By the time they were at the end of the street, the talking had almost ceased altogether.

Severus found his own stomach sinking at the idea of returning to the cookie-cutter house on Privet Drive.

Strangely Severus realized he had a certain... fondness... for Cokeworth. At least that town had character. It was a wretched miserable old character: not unlike the grumpy old man who shakes a cane and yells at children who stray into his yard. But it had character nonetheless. One with history and stories. It was scarred and unpleasant, but it was real. Not like Little Whinging: bleached and lifeless.

There were proper horror movies about places like Little Whinging: where all the neighbors conspired to kill newcomers or those that didn't uphold the neighborhood's unwritten rules of propriety. Movies whose entire point was that the more perfect something looks the more it has to hide. Documentaries about untold horrors that happened hidden behind perfectly painted window panes and neatly trimmed hedges.

Cokeworth had only seen countless horrors played out in reality on its streets, homes, and businesses. It didn't try to hide them. 

"We won't have to stay much longer." He wasn't sure if he was saying this to the boy or himself.

"Will we spend the rest of the summer at Hogwarts?"

Severus sighed. According to school rules, the... families of faculty members are not permitted to live on the ground for extended periods. A couple of weeks before the start of term and after the end of term were acceptable. Severus was sure the Headmaster could and would make an exception for this summer, but it wasn't something they'd discussed. He couldn't take the Boy Who Lived to Spinner's End (despite his sudden fondness for the horrid little place) because more than one Death Eater had frequented his residence over the years. He couldn't risk one of them showing up unexpectedly and seeing the boy playing happily in the street.

Snape had never considered buying a house or renting a flat somewhere since he spent most of his time at Hogwarts. More often than not he didn't even return to Spinner's End during the summer. Technically, the house was still in his parents' name though he did pay the taxes and insurance on it.

The thought of buying a home now... was panic-inducing. Thinking about buying a home meant thinking about why he was buying it. He glanced down at the boy quickly but didn't dwell on those thoughts.

"We'll return there once we leave Tuney's, yes."

"Do I have any other family?"

The child had asked this question - with minor variations - at least four times today. Severus had yet to answer it. And wasn't going to answer now. Every time the boy had brought up the subject Severus's thoughts would go directly to Mr. and Mrs. Evans. He could never manage to push those thoughts aside before the guilt and shame from earlier would wash over him.

They would have been so disappointed in him for what he'd said to Tuney.

Neither he nor the boy said anything else as they drew nearer the house. He had no idea what the boy was thinking which caused him silence. But with each step Severus's shame over his words that morning managed to intensify. They were about to open the door when it flew open and a furious Petunia Dursley stood in the entrance.

Severus looked away from the furious woman for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. He grabbed the collar of Harry's shirt and pulled the child backward and slightly behind him before he met Petunia's gaze once again.

Then he did something he'd never done before.

"I'm sorry Petunia," unlike every apology he'd ever given Tuney this one was sincere, and he wanted her to know it. "I never should have said... those horrible things this morning. I was angry, and you'd---" He was not accustomed to this activity. How did people do this so easily? "I was angry, and I lashed out intentionally saying something I knew would... hurt you." He paused for a moment and was surprised Tuney hadn't interrupted him, yet. "You know how I felt about your parents. I'm... ashamed that I could even have let those words leave my mouth."

There was silence for a moment before Petunia snapped back at him with pure venom and sardonicism, "Well, that's alright, then, isn't it? Say sorry. Placate the person whose help you need. The person who for over a decade has been forced into a situation she never wanted to be in..."

She trailed off, and Severus figured her fury over the situation as a whole was stronger than the hurt he had inflicted. Either that or the situation was easier to talk about than what he'd actually - regretfully - said.

"Then be horrible and insulting again the next day because she never had a choice and still doesn't. So what does it even matter?" Petunia finished.

Severus remained silent. He wanted to be angry.

He wanted to snap at her.

But he found he was more tired than anything. He just wanted this month to be over.

"I didn't have a choice either!" Harry's young and angry voice spoke up from his side. "I didn't want my parents to be killed! I didn't ask to be left here!"

Petunia must have been just as drained as he was. Neither of them acknowledged the boy or his outburst. They didn't even spare a glance for him. The silence simply lingered between the three of them for a moment: heavy and oppressive.

"Where's Uncle Vernon?" Harry's voice sounded... unsure? Scared? Broken? Tired? "His car's not here."

Tuney wiped at the tears on her cheeks before clearing her throat. She looked at him as though he'd asked the question instead of the boy. "He took Dudley on holiday. A trip I'm going to miss. Time away from my son who is growing up, and-" Her voice broke for a moment, "time I won't get back. Because I have to stay here with the two of you. Because if I don't, I'll lose everything and everyone I love." She snorted, "at least according to Albus Dumbledore."

They were a fucking miserable group, indeed.

Considering what he said that morning he wondered if offering to share his bottle of Fire Whiskey with Tuney would be poor form.

Hell, they could give the boy a shot, too. Just enough to put him to sleep, of course.

Then he and Tuney could finish off the bottle in their combined misery and anger and misfortune.

They stood there in silence for a moment longer before Tuney wordlessly stepped back into the house.

Severus followed with Harry not far behind. He watched as Petunia went up the stairs.

"I've had dinner already, and don't think I'm cooking anything for you," Petunia didn't turn around or pause as she spoke, "If you're hungry you know where the kitchen is."

Snape - for unfathomable reasons - spoke on impulse, "I truly am sorry for earlier, Tuney." When did his voice start sounding so... desperate? "I can't even begin... I'm sorry."

If Tuney even heard him she didn't acknowledge his words.

Didn't he just hate her this morning? How could he feel so horrible about what he said now? How after everything she'd done could he feel sorry for her?

"You're leaving me here?" There was a note of panic in the boy's tone that Severus found odd considering how upset the child had been about him coming to the Dursleys to begin with.

"If I recall, you were against my being here at all."

"Will you come back?" The panic was still in Harry's voice.

Severus rolled his eyes, "I'll come back, idiot child."

The boy didn't seem calmed very much by his reassurance. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's just you and Petunia here, and she seems intent on ignoring us both. I've charmed the door so that you can leave these rooms if you want, but she can't come in." He pointed to a tray he'd placed on the small end table that he'd transfigured. The tray had a large glass of water and two sandwiches, as well as carrots and celery. If the boy didn't want to leave, at least he didn't have an excuse not to eat. "I've already brought up lunch in case I'm not back by then."

The boy was pouting, "How long will you be gone?"

"I'm just dropping off the papers Tuney signed at the Ministry. It shouldn't take long."

"What did you say to Aunt Petunia that made her so cross?"

Snape's teeth clenched. The boy had been asking him that for the last three days. Every time the question came out of nowhere, so he wasn't prepared for it. Then without warning his regret would once again resurface. "Ask your Aunt."

"I'm not allowed to ask questions."

Snape rolled his eyes, "Don't be absurd. You ask questions non-stop."

The boy crossed his arms and mumbled, "Not at the Dursley's. It's a rule."

Severus tilted his head and studied the boy for a moment. Since they'd been here the boy rarely asked his Aunt and Uncle any questions. Barely spoke at all when they were in the room. Would they make such a ridiculous rule for the boy? He pushed the thought away.

"I'll be back shortly."

The boy seemed to think about this for a moment before he shrugged, went into his bedroom, and slammed the door.

Severus left the Dursley residence and tried not to wonder about why he wasn't considering just leaving the brat behind.

Dropping off the paperwork didn't take long. Even when he asked for copies with an official seal. In all honesty, he could have sent it by owl. But he had other reasons to go to the Ministry. Well, one other reason. A reason born of desperation. He considered changing his plans and going to Hogwarts instead. Filius might be better suited to assist with his current predicament.

He made his way to the second floor of the Ministry. On the way, he barely managed to dodge a conversation with a former student. A rather bright one - surprisingly - who was somehow, mostly, immune to his glares. Clearly, he'd been losing his touch for a while, now, if former students even wanted to speak to him. Despite the delay, he made it to the small office that was the entire department of The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts.

How had his life come to this?

It was Minerva's fault. He was never placing a fucking bet with her ever again.

He knocked on the open door.

Mr. Weasley was the only one in the office at the time, and his head popped up upon hearing the knock. "Ah! Severus! Is it time for lunch already?"

Severus stepped into the cramped space with trepidation. The stacks of file folders appeared ready to topple over and bury them alive, at any moment. "It's good to see you again, Arthur."

The eldest member of the Weasley clan laughed and came around his desk, "Especially, since it has nothing to do with one of my boys, for a change, yes?"

Severus considered - just for a moment - closing the office door, dropping to his knees, and clinging to the older man's robes while he sobbed hysterically. Maybe the man would take pity on him? Maybe he could provide him with a step-by-step instruction manual for Harry? Complete with a daily schedule until the boy comes of age since it appeared he would be stuck with the child.

However, he decided that such an act would disturb the mound of files around the office. He did not wish to be buried alive. Also, there was the fact that he and Arthur did not have that sort of relationship so the Weasley patriarch would probably have him carted off to St. Mungos. Perhaps, he would enjoy the vacation?

Instead, Severus stated simply, "I have no idea how this happened."

Weasley, of course, fucking laughed. Then clapped him on the shoulder, "Come on then, there's a café downstairs with excellent pies."

Arthur talked, almost, as much as Harry, Severus realized. The man chatted happily on their way to the restaurant and was completely undisturbed by Severus's short answers. And Snape would never admit to anyone - certainly not Arthur - that he found it oddly relaxing.

The more the man spoke without really wanting or needing a reply the easier Snape found it to breathe. It wasn't unlike the times that Pomona made him a sandwich, he realized. What sort of person was he that, as much as he hated people, he found himself oddly calmed by their inane chatter in certain situations?

It must be a result of spending too much time with the Headmaster.

Eventually, Arthur's words slowed as his focus shifted. As they finished their meal Severus realized his thoughts were in a more coherent order.

Arthur still smiled, but it was a smaller, gentler, smile, "So, what's on your mind?"

He was not one for small talk, "how much do you know about Harry's Aunt and Uncle?"

Arthur frowned, "To be honest, I only know Harry through the boys. I've hardly spoken to him, at all. But," the red-headed man hesitated, "From what they've said, I have some concerns. I know Molly went to Dumbledore about some of the things the boys told us, but Dumbledore assured us that everything was fine."

"Everything was not fine," Severus decided that he would have to talk with the Headmaster, and was concerned about the results of that conversation. "Unfortunately, I find myself - at times - understanding why things were... less than fine."

He expected anger at his words, but Arthur just waited patiently for him to continue.

"It's not that I'm condoning their neglect," Snape clarified, "But... I can understand why they would want to keep their distance under the circumstances."

Arthur's tone was surprisingly neutral, "I feel like I'm missing something, Severus. What circumstances are you referring to, exactly?"

Snape took a deep breath before providing an abbreviated version of his relationship with the Evans family. He included how Albus just left Harry on the doorstep and the less-than-subtle threats the man had made regarding what would happen if the wards fell. He had to clear his throat before describing Harry's living conditions at the Dursleys.

"Every time," Severus continued, "I find myself properly angry at them for what they did to the boy, it seems, something reminds me about the situation they found themselves in a decade ago. I had an entire plan in place to drive them slowly insane, and then ended up stopping the whole thing because I..."

"Felt bad for them?" Arthur supplied.

Snape gave a single slow nod. He didn't mention his reconsideration was because of something Harry said.

"How does Harry feel about the situation?"

Snape was silent.

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, but he controlled the expression quickly. "I see." Arthur paused for a moment and Snape could practically see him contemplating his next words carefully, "You did just submit the guardianship papers, yes?"

Snape nodded and took out his copies of the paperwork placing them in front of Arthur. He wasn't sure why he felt a need to show Arthur the papers like a student determined to have their completed homework noticed.

Arthur glanced at the papers with a smile, "I'm sure Harry will love to see these. You might consider showing them to him, and then you'll have a perfect opportunity to talk to your boy."

Snape felt himself grimace as Arthur referred to Harry as ‘his boy,' but with the papers still on the table he couldn't really deny it. "What do I talk to him about?"

"Perhaps start with how he feels about everything that's happened?"

Arthur Weasley had no idea what he was talking about.

There was no way that talking to the boy could help anything. Ever.

The boy was impossible.

By the time Snape had gotten back to Tuney's - he'd made a couple more stops after letting Arthur get back to work - it was a little later than he'd intended. He saw no sign of Tuney as he made his way to his and the boy's room, and was rather relieved.

His relief was premature.

On the couch in their small sitting room, Harry was clearly fuming. The child's arms were crossed, and judging by the red puffiness of his eyes he'd been crying. He glared at Severus like he wanted to throw something at him.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "problem?"

"You said you wouldn't be gone long," the raspiness of the boy's voice made Snape wonder if the boy had spent some time screaming as well as crying.

He raised an eyebrow, did the boy realize who was the adult in this situation? "I was out a bit longer than anticipated." He hesitated before continuing in a slightly softer tone, "But I'm back, now."

The boy's bottom lip quivered.

Snape knew for a fact that he needed a sandwich. Could he ask Pomona to come visit? And bring her sandwich-making materials? Perhaps he could supply the materials?

Severus cleared his throat; he held up the paper bag he'd brought with him from his last stop. "I procured fish and chips for dinner."

Snape moved the small end table in front of the couch. He placed the tray with the empty plate and glass on the floor and took the food from the bag. Harry seemed to come out of his pout slightly as he smelled the food and saw that Severus had even gotten them Cokes to drink.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly the gruffness in his voice along with his pout seemed to indicate that he was still upset.

However, as they ate, Harry's mood seemed to improve, and the boy even began his endless chattering, again.

Snape decided that it was better than pouting.

Once they'd finished their meals - and because he wanted the smell out of their small sitting room before it settled for too long - Severus gathered their garbage and the tray from earlier to take downstairs to the trash. Before leaving their room, however, he reached into his pocket and took out one of several bags he'd shrank. After resizing it to its normal dimensions he tossed the bag to the child and left. There was no point in rewarding the boy's grouchiness by giving him all the things he'd bought the boy to entertain himself. At least not all at once.

When he returned, the boy was sitting on the couch holding a small, fuzzy, stuffed golden snitch that - while larger than an official snitch - could be held in one hand.

He cleared his throat, "Since you're so obsessed with the damn things, I thought you might like one that you can hold without fear of it escaping."  

Severus could see the debate in the boy's eyes. He'd spent enough time teaching to understand the child's conflict. There was a part of the child that wanted to protest that he was too old for such toys. The other part wanted to squeeze the toy into his chest and never let go.

"If you'd rather use it for decoration in your room at Hogwarts, that's always an acceptable use of a stuffed toy. Perhaps, hanging it from the ceiling?"

Harry grinned, he was all but broadcasting his relief and anticipation, "Thank you, professor! It's brilliant!"

Snape swallowed; the child was in a good mood again. If they were going to talk about... things... as Arthur suggested it would need to be now. Before he lost his nerve.

"Harry," Severus moved to sit on the couch, "I...well...I" He hesitated. Fuck. He'd been a teacher long enough to know that you never let the brats smell weakness. He cleared his throat, again. "I want to show you something."

Snape removed the folder with the guardianship papers from his robes and handed them to the boy. "Those are the copies of the approved papers that I had your Aunt sign. Do you understand what that means?"

"That she isn't my guardian anymore?"

"That is correct. You are now both biologically and legally... mine."

Harry looked at him with some confusion, but honestly, the boy always seemed to exist in a state of confusion so that wasn't anything new.

"Does this mean I don't have to come back here, anymore?"

"I don't know, yet." Snape answered honestly, taking the papers back from the boy, "As of now, this is the safest place for you. But, I will endeavor to find another safe location for...next summer. If that doesn't happen, then both of us will come back here again."

"I don't think Aunt Petunia will like that. Will you tell me what you said to her that upset her so much?"

Snape was prepared for the question this time, but not willing to answer it. He braced himself for the next question and tried to keep his distaste from his voice. "How do you feel about the guardianship papers?"

Confusion again.

Snape waited to see if the child's brain would start working. It could take some time.

"Are you asking if I'm okay with the papers? Or if I'm okay being your kid?" Harry didn't pause long enough for Snape to answer which was good because Severus would have only been capable of helpless stuttering. "Cause, I mean, the papers are just a legal thing, right? It doesn't really change anything. Especially if I still have to come back here."

Snape nodded, and his curiosity must have won out over his common sense as he asked another question, "In regards to - as you put it - ‘being my kid' how do you feel about that?"

Harry shrugged, and he began tossing the stuffed toy from hand to hand. "If I answer that question, will you tell me what you said to Aunt Petunia?"

Severus's first reaction was a resounding ‘no,' but he paused for a moment to consider his options. "What if we take turns answering questions? For every question you answer - properly - I'll answer a question of yours."

Harry nodded, but his head shot up, "okay, but you have to answer the questions properly, too. Not like last time!"

"Agreed," Severus settled back into the couch, "Answer my question, then."

Harry thought for a moment, even bringing the stuffed toy up to his nose for a few seconds. "I don't really know. I thought you hated me practically the entire school year. And you were a complete git in class!" Harry glared at him angrily, before continuing, "I thought you were the one trying to jinx my broom and steal the Stone! It wasn't until I found Quirrell with the mirror that I realized we'd gotten it wrong."

Snape waited, to see if the child would add more. The possessive, greedy, little voice that screamed ‘mine' almost any time Severus looked at the boy lately was not getting louder, but, it seemed, other parts of his mind were starting to listen to that voice and give it honest consideration instead of pushing it aside. Another voice reminded him that the boy was Lily's. And, yet another voice added, that Harry was a child that he and Lily created. Together. Even if Lily did the heavy lifting after his contribution, he had helped make the boy.

"But since what happened at the train station," Harry's voice interrupted his musings, "you haven't been that horrible. You got me a snitch!" Harry glanced up at him with a grin and held up the stuffed toy as though Severus couldn't see it from the opposite end of the small couch, "Two of them actually. And you always make sure I eat. And at Hogwarts you let me fly around the pitch. You even looked over my summer assignments the way Hermione does for me and Ron. You didn't let Dudley steal my food." Harry concluded definitively, "You're definitely better than living here with the Dursleys."

That was a rather low bar, Severus thought, but decided the boy didn't have much to compare it to. "So, I take it you're not... upset about our relationship?"

"It's my turn to ask a question," Harry stated, determinedly.

Severus acquiesced with a nod and a wave of his hand.

Harry seemed to think for a moment, as though choosing his question carefully. Eventually, he decided his most recent question was the most pressing at the moment, "What did you say to upset Aunt Petunia the other day? The thing you apologized for; I mean. Like, really apologized for."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Out of context, the words weren't so horrible, but undoubtedly the child would use his next question to ask for clarification. This question for a question game suddenly didn't seem like his best idea. Best to answer the question, and hope the child got sidetracked like he usually did. "I asked her to remind me how her father died."

As expected, Harry seemed confused but didn't ask a follow-up question.

"The other day, you said it wasn't very nice that I was doing things to annoy your Aunt and Uncle. Considering how they've treated you since you were a baby, why does it bother you that I wasn't very nice to them?"

Harry looked at him like he'd grown a second head, "because they're my Aunt and Uncle. Before you, they were my only family after my mum and da-" Harry cut himself off abruptly with wide eyes and looked at Severus, "Well, you know."

"After your mother and James died protecting you."

Harry nodded, looking down he rolled the stuffed snitch from one hand to the other.

Severus swallowed, without realizing it the boy had provided an answer to the question he'd been struggling with almost since stepping foot through the door of the Dursley residence. How could he simultaneously condemn Tuney and her treatment of the boy and empathize with her at the same time? How could he both damn her and embrace her?

But hadn't he done the same with his father for years? And his mother for that matter? Not to mention Mr. Evans? They were people who meant something to him. People that for whatever reason he was attached to. Something intangible bound them together. He loved them. Even with their flaws, he loved them. Their behavior at times was unforgivable, but they were still people he loved.

Just as Harry was doing by saying that even though they were horrible to him, his Aunt and Uncle were still family. Some part of the child would be upset if something happened to his Aunt and Uncle. They were his family. The fact that the Blood Wards held for as long as they did proved that.

Most victims of abuse didn't want to leave their abusers. They just wanted the abuse to stop.

He wondered briefly how old Harry should be when someone sat him down for a serious discussion about abusive relationships...and probably addiction, as well. Would he have to be the one doing that?

Bloody fucking hell.

"My turn," Harry stated, drawing Snape's attention away from his inner thoughts. "Will you, please, tell me about any other family I have? Do I have more aunts and uncles? What about grandparents?"

Snape smirked, "That's more than one question."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

Harry glared and threw himself back against the couch.

Severus decided to reward the boy for providing an answer to an unasked question. "You don't have any other aunts and uncles. But you do have a grandmother and grandfather." He hesitated for a moment unsure if it was wise to open this particular door. "I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

The boy was grinning from ear to ear. An outside observer would have assumed that the child had been hexed. No other explanation could account for the raw excitement and happiness radiating off the child.

It was disturbing.

So, why he found it difficult to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting slightly - he was NOT smiling - Severus couldn't say.

"Hurry and ask your question! I have loads more to ask!" Harry demanded, still beaming excitedly and looking expectantly at Severus.

The stuffed snitch had been abandoned on the couch in the space between him and the boy, and Severus took the opportunity to pick it up and throw it lightly at the child. Despite his fast quidditch reflexes, the boy's surprise prevented him from stopping it before it bounced off his nose.

"What do you hope will come from our new relationship?" Severus almost felt guilty as he watched some of the child's excitement drain.

Harry stopped bouncing in place and settled into his corner of the sofa. The stuffed toy was back in his hands, and he seemed to be studying it closely. After a few moments, the boy just shrugged.

"That's not a proper answer," Snape gently reminded him in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

During the conversation with Arthur, the older man had explained that Severus might have to share his own thoughts on various subjects. Apparently, with the child's background - and his young age - the boy might not know how to express his feelings or be afraid to share those feelings. According to Arthur - who should know something about raising children considering most of his seemed to be turning out fairly well if a bit loud and rambunctious - if Severus showed the boy how to answer, and demonstrated that he could be trusted with that answer, then the child would reciprocate.

That was easier said than done.

Snape decided he needed to acquire more books on the subject, but some of the psychology books he'd already consumed seemed to agree with the Weasley patriarch. Apparently, these relationships were reciprocal in some fashion.

Severus took a deep breath, he intentionally kept his words simple for the boy, "I would like for our relationship to progress and grow. I would like to get to know you better and spend more time with you. I've... enjoyed helping you with your summer assignments and watching you learn and improve. And I want to keep doing that." He paused for a moment and looked away from the bright emerald eyes watching him with surprise. He remembered what Harry had said a few days after the Kings Cross incident. "I want you, Harry. You're... mine. Hopefully, one day, you'll be... happy being mine."

The room was silent. Snape refused to let his eyes look anywhere near the child on the couch.

Arthur was mistaken. This system of talking only worked if one was a Weasley, obviously.

It would explain a lot about that family, actually.

He felt the child moving on the couch but was still startled when he felt a small body press against his side. He looked down to see the boy sitting as close as possible without actually being in his lap. The snitch still seemed to have the attention of his eyes and hands.

Snape didn't move.

"I know, I'm too old to need a parent," Harry stated in a matter-of-fact tone that eleven-year-olds typically adopt when they're sure they know how something works. Despite also knowing that adults would tell them that they are, in fact, very wrong. "But I think it might be nice to have a dad, still."

Slowly and awkwardly, Snape lifted the arm the boy was pressed against and placed it around the child's shoulders. Severus didn't need to encourage the boy for the child to lean against him.

Now, what was he supposed to do?

Arthur had not prepared him for this situation.

He really needed that sandwich.

Or a drink.

Maybe both?

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"What are my grandparents like?"

When he went into Tuney's backyard, he'd assumed the person smoking on the other side of the shed was a young neighbor engaging in a bit of unhealthy teenage rebellion. He'd rather been looking forward to snapping some insults at the teen for both trespassing and smoking. The universe, it seemed, had a sense of humor, and very much enjoyed messing with him. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when he rounded the corner and found Tuney with a cigarette between her lips.

"I thought you quit." His voice startled her and she jumped before glaring at him. The basis for this statement was simply the fact that he hadn't seen or smelled evidence of cigarettes since his arrival at the Dursleys. That didn't mean she'd quit smoking, however, only that it wasn't a regular habit for her anymore.

He presumed his assumption to be right, however, when she didn't say anything and simply turned her gaze back to the privacy fence, and took another drag.

Severus leaned against the shed next to her. They were both silent. Snape figured he probably only had a minute or so before she finished the cigarette to figure out what to say. And even though he had a better grasp on how he felt about Tuney, now, it didn't mean he knew how to explain that to her.

"I'm going to do my best to make sure neither Harry nor I have to come back here next summer." He stated in a voice that he hoped didn't sound as unsure about the likelihood of that happening as he felt.

Tuney snorted in disbelief.

He thought of Lily. He thought of Mr. and Mrs. Evans.

He thought about Harry.

"Fuck it all to hell, Tuney, we can't keep doing this." He shook his head, and briefly contemplated taking the pack of cigarettes and lighter from her hand and helping himself to one even though it had been years since he'd smoked. "We both know that we can't really hate each other. Not like we pretend to, at least."

"Are you willing to make a bet on that, Sev?"

"You would have called a social worker or written back to Dumbledore if you didn't care about Harry. You never would have been at Kings Cross to pick him up if some part of you didn't care. Even if you only care about Harry because of Lily, you still can't help but care." He paused for a moment, "And you hate that you can't not care." He hesitated, "As for whether we can hate each other... we can't hate each other because Lily loved both of us."

"You don't know anything," Petunia stated before dropping her cigarette butt into the grass and crushing it with the toe of her shoe. She remained leaning against the shed, however, so Snape took that as a sign to continue.

"I know that even though you neglected and hurt my... son." The word sounded less foreign and odd in his mouth this time. "Locked him in a cupboard, nearly starved him, and refused to love him. Despite that...you're still Lily's big sister. And - regardless of whether we like it or not - Lily and Harry make you and I family." He paused, "Admittedly an extremely fucked up and very distant family, but a family."

"You should know about fucked up families."

"So should you," he shot back sharply and without hesitation.

They lapsed into silence again.

"I quit when I found out I was pregnant with Dudley. That was my first one in almost thirteen years." She opened the box, taking out another cigarette.

Snape nodded, "We all make bad decisions at times."

She snapped her head around to look at him with narrowed eyes but didn't reply.

Severus thought about what he'd said to Harry. Considering the ramifications of trying something similar with Petunia.

He decided that was a horrible idea.

"I was so jealous of her," Petunia whispered, she hadn't lit the cigarette in her hand. "And of you."

Now, it was Snape's turn to snap his head sharply towards Tuney.

"Lily because... well... you know why," she paused for a moment. "And you for some of the same reasons and... because your father managed to get sober when mine couldn't. He tried, though. He tried so hard...until he stopped trying."

"I know," Snape hoped he sounded reassuring. And he did know how Mr. Evans had tried to stop drinking. Knew the man wanted to be better for his family. In a way, it was both fortunate and unfortunate that Mr. Evans was the definition of a functional alcoholic. But just because most of the world didn't see the hurt didn't mean that the pain wasn't there.

"Anything I do or anything I have is always going to be less than what everyone else has or does." Petunia's statement hit a nerve in a way that Severus knew it shouldn't. He'd tried to convince himself so many times that his life was not a horrible one. That he had all he needed. A part of him knew that to be true. Another part agreed with Tuney.

Even if he wanted to reassure her Snape didn't know how. But Lily would want him to try. If Harry were privy to this conversation he'd probably try, too. He'd fail. But the boy would try.

"At least you don't live in Cokeworth anymore."

Tuney looked at him, her lips twitched before she let out a few chuckles. "There is that."

"And Harry is terribly jealous of Dudley because of how much you love your son." He didn't know for sure if that was true. Harry had not said that to him. But he couldn't imagine a neglected child not being jealous of another child who had loving and doting parents. "Your husband is...a good provider for your son."

"Did it hurt for you to say that?"

Severus hesitated, "I've never known what you saw in him."

"I've never known what Lily saw in you."

That was a fair point, Snape conceded, but wasn't about to tell Tuney that. "Do you remember when I made that tree branch hit you?" A glance at Petunia's now frightened face told him she did remember. "Lily was so angry at me. But she was angry at you, too, because of all the things you said about me." He couldn't bring himself to smile at the memory even though he could so clearly see Lily's determination and frustration in his mind. "She spent the next four days trying to force us to apologize to each other and get along. She was relentless."

Petunia gave an amused snort, "you didn't have to live with her. It's the only thing she would talk to me about."

"Eventually," Severus continued, "we gave in. We tried to get along, and Lily was so damn pleased." Snape felt a small smile flicker over his lips before it fell away to be replaced with a sad smirk, "Can you imagine if she suddenly appeared, now?"

Petunia chuckled in sad remembrance, "She'd be furious. She'd probably invent a few new swear words to describe us. I think her temper and stubbornness got worse the older she got."

Snape nodded in agreement, "Just like yours. Honestly, I never thought I'd have to face that type of rage again, then there you were at Kings Cross."

"What does it say about you, Sev, that despite inspiring such a reaction you're still hanging around?"

He shrugged, "That I'm determined?"

"A determined idiot... and masochist, no doubt."

"On the off chance that there's an afterlife, and we'll join her there one day, let's not piss her off more than we already have, hmm?"

Petunia turned to face him better, the cigarette in her hand forgotten. Her voice was filled with sarcasm, "What did you have in mind? Weekend holidays together as an extended family? Christmas and Easter family fun?"

Snape sneered at the thought, "I was thinking of Christmas cards with an annual update on general well-being."

"Except you and the boy will be here next summer, I'm sure. Dumbledore will allow nothing else."

"I'll do my best to make sure that doesn't happen."

"And what of my family?" Tuney asked, "If the boy doesn't come back then my family is left without the same protections that keep Harry safe."

"Without Harry living here then you're already safe," Snape reassured her.

"I hate this."

"As do I."

They fell into silence for a few moments before Petunia spoke again, "There's an Indian place a few blocks away. I'll call and have a curry delivered. Tell that brat of yours that we'll be eating soon."

"Christmas cards, then?"

Petunia rolled her eyes, "We're sending them by post, and I don't mean owl post."  

"I'll send you the address when I know it. We're going to have to move from Spinner's End."

"About time."

Snape snorted, "It's impossible to sell homes in that ghost town. The best anyone can hope for is a fire and the insurance money."

"I'm looking forward to you leaving." 

"So am I." 

"Severus?" Petunia's voice waivered slightly, "Do you think Harry will ever forgive me?"

"I think, he already has." He didn't bother looking at her, "The boy is incorrigible, hopelessly optimistic, a pain in the ass, and has an uncanny ability to make those around him want to be better." He sighed heavily, "He is his mother's son."

"I'm fairly sure he gets being a pain-in-the-ass from you."

Snape shrugged but smirked, "It could also be a learned trait from living with you for a decade."

"Doubtful. His talent for the art is far too natural to be anything other than genetic."  

"You should know."

"I do know, because I spent far too much of my childhood chasing after you and Lily. Now, are you going to get your boy down here for dinner or not?"

"Well, Severus," Albus's eyes were twinkling at him from behind his desk in his ornate office, "What are your and Harry's plans for the rest of the summer?"

Snape resisted the urge to sigh, surprisingly, it didn't take much effort. Over the past month, he found that it was easier to not be irritated by the boy. He and Harry had left the Dursleys two days ago, and their relief at being gone was nearly tangible. When they'd returned to his quarters, they'd both collapsed silently into chairs and remained there for several minutes without speaking or acknowledging the other. There was a chance that if the boy hadn't been there Severus would have cried in relief. Instead, after a few minutes of companionable silence, he took the boy with him to the kitchens to get sandwiches. Fortunately, the child didn't ask why Professor Sprout was making them.

"Harry wants to meet his grandparents. Then he's going to spend the last week before school starts with the Weasleys."

He left out the part about how he'd agreed to go school shopping with the Weasleys and Grangers. He still didn't know why he'd agreed to that. Nothing good could come from spending an afternoon with the five Weasley children and the Granger girl. He also had no doubt he'd end up as a translator between the Grangers and Arthur. Purebloods and muggles spoke two different languages half the time, and the muggles would no doubt be confused by Arthur's obsession with plugs.

He still needed to tell the boy that he no longer had access to the Potter vault. Snape technically had sole access to it now that guardianship had been transferred (he tried not to be too happy about how James Potter was definitely spinning in his grave). He'd removed a small percentage of the funds but had the rest held in trust until the boy turned thirty. He was fairly sure that bit of information would lead to a tantrum.

"His grandparents?" The surprise in Ablus's voice didn't sound genuine. And the smile wasn't completely hidden behind his long white beard. "Really? I didn't think you were close to your parents?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably before repeating, "Harry wanted to meet them."

Albus smiled, knowingly. Snape shouldn't be surprised. In some ways, Albus Dumbledore was incredibly perceptive. Although Snape didn't speak of his parents often he'd told the Headmaster more than he'd told most. No doubt the older man had pieced together enough to understand his relationship with his parental units better than he did.

Snape glared. Obviously, he wasn't going to enlighten the old man about what he had already surmised.

"I noticed a few unusual owl deliveries during your last week with the Dursleys. Pomona received a most unusual basket with an assortment of objects that can only be described as ‘sandwich-making supplies.' While Filius received a box full of fuzzy slippers in various colors. And I've never seen Minerva laugh so hard, as when she opened a package filled with cat treats, some sort of mechanical device, spray paint, and a picture of a vandalized muggle automobile."

"Very unusual, indeed, Headmaster." Snape kept his face blank.

The Headmaster lost some of his twinkle, "In all seriousness, Severus, how are you and Harry getting along?"

"We've..." Severus paused, "Come to an understanding."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, in what might have been disapproval or disappointment. "An understanding?"

Severus crossed his arms and smirked, "You didn't expect us to come back from Petunia's holding hands and cuddling together on the couch, did you?"

"I suppose not," Albus agreed, but Severus could hear a trace of suspicion in his voice.

Snape decided to change the subject, "I requested that Madam Pince send some books to the Dursleys. For research. Once I found out that Harry was a Parselmouth."

Albus's head snapped up and in that one unguarded moment, Snape knew this information confirmed something for the older wizard.

"Am I correct in assuming, Albus," Snape watched the Headmaster closely, "that Harry's mind contains a Horcrux? One made by the Dark Lord."

"His name is Voldemort, Severus," the Headmaster corrected gently before they both lapsed into silence.

He swore he could feel the Headmaster's eyes boring into his soul. Occlumency shields be damned the man must have some other way of knowing the inner workings of the mind. He maintained eye contact refusing to break the Headmaster's gaze. Eventually, Albus looked away. Severus saw in every line on the elderly man's face the weight of guilt and loss and remorse and love.

Bloody fucking hell.

He wasn't prepared to deal with that. He was still trying to figure out his own shit. Not to mention managing the four-foot-tall trouble magnet he only discovered a month ago that just so happened to share half his DNA.

He would have to recommend that Arthur talk to Albus. Arthur would be able to help the Headmaster sort things out. Arthur was good at that kind of thing.

Bloody hell.

Snape knew that Dumbledore was well-intentioned. Albus was capable of wondrous forms of magic. His age and sharp mind had permitted him to learn more than most could even imagine. Yet, he often lacked even an ounce of common sense. (The terrifying thought that Harry and Albus had a lot in common was pushed from his mind faster than it entered). Severus did not doubt that Albus was capable of creating a wonderfully complex plan that would be years in the making. He'd probably been scheming since the night Snape had told him of the prophecy. But Albus wouldn't see the flaws obvious to anyone else.

Severus was Harry's father. He had not defied the Dark Lord as the prophecy stated. If Snape pointed that out Dumbledore would say something about ‘the world believing James was his father' or some such nonsense and twist the prophesy to fit what he believed. The Dark Lord had done the same with the prophecy. If he returned then he would probably come to the same conclusions as Albus.

After all, that's what people did with prophesies. They bent them to fit the situation and declared them true, and if enough people believed that the prophecy came true... then it was true.

Snape could feel a headache coming on. Instead of Arthur perhaps he should bring Minerva in on this situation. Maybe even tell her about the prophecy. He could just imagine her reaction... especially if he mentioned that Sybill had made the prediction. He tried not to grin at the image while he waited for Albus to speak.

The Headmaster broke the silence, "You must realize the ramifications of this, Severus."

"Turning Harry into a Horcrux was an accident. A mistake, caused because the Dark Lord had already split his soul too many times." He took a breath before giving voice to his terrifying conclusion, "There are others out there."

Albus only nodded in response.

"Harry can live a happy life never knowing there is one in his head." Severus narrowed his eyes at Albus, he feared that he finally knew a key element of Albus' plan. Moreover, Snape knew he would never let that plan come to fruition. Even if it killed him. "And many, many, years from now when he dies of old age the Horcrux will die with him."

"Severus, my boy, su-"

"No!" Severus snapped with a furious overprotectiveness that caused the Headmaster's eyes to widen in surprise. "I will find the other Horcruxes. I will find them. I will destroy them. Either you'll help me or you won't. But you will not sacrifice my son for some greater good. You don't have that right any more than the Dark Lord has the right to kill indiscriminately."

The silence sat heavily around the room. Even Fawkes stopped his gentle preening to peer closely at Severus. Eventually, Albus's gentle grandfatherly voice whispered, "Your son, Severus?"

"Yes! My son!" Snape didn't care that he was losing his temper. He wasn't a person to raise his voice, but he bit the words out in a sharp hiss that resembled an angry viper. "I won't let you sacrifice him." He paused for a moment and continued in a quieter and slower tone. He wasn't defeated and the fight didn't leave his words, but they held a contemplative note. Not unlike one he'd heard Dumbledore use upon occasion. "You'll have to kill me first, Albus. But before you do, consider the irony that Lily was killed by Voldemort's hand while she protected Harry. And you'll have killed his father for the same reason."

"I could never do that, Severus," He could hear the Headmaster's age in his words. Hear the exhaustion and the heartbreak. He'd would have to send Arthur over as possible. "Retrieving the other Horcruxes will be dangerous. I do not recommend you do so alone."

Snape forced himself to take deep breaths. "I'm sure you already have several people in mind to assist."

Albus continued as though he hadn't heard the statement, "This will not kill him, Severus. What's left of him is still out there. And there will always be people willing to help him come to power."

"Didn't you tell Harry at the end of the school year that as long as he is delayed again and again then he may never come to power?"

Albus smiled slightly. "Harry told you of our conversation, did he?"

"The boy never shuts up."

Albus chuckled, a light twinkle returning to his eyes that put Severus' mind at ease for the time being. "Yes, and like his father once he sets his mind to something he doesn't stop until he's achieved it. Regardless of the difficulty of the tasks or the risks involved."

Severus glared but accepted that Dumbledore at least understood that the role of his spy had changed. Albus knew that Snape was unexpectedly inserting himself and wouldn't be made to sit on the sidelines.  

"Allow me some time to factor in these new circumstances, Severus. We'll talk again once the school year starts. For now, enjoy the rest of the summer with your son."

Without replying Snape left the Headmaster's office and made his way down to his quarters. It was a shame that Flitwick was off visiting family for the rest of the summer. Severus could use the man's ability to simplify the multitude of thoughts bouncing around in his skull. At the moment, the only thing he knew about Harry's future was that he would do anything to ensure his son had a future.

The walk to the dungeons didn't take long. He'd almost prepared himself for the difficult task of explaining to the child that he could no longer buy anything he wanted whenever he wanted. Almost.

When he got to his rooms, he opened the door anticipating that the unsupervised child would have recked havoc in the time he was gone. However, he could not have anticipated the sight that greeted him. His eyes widened in surprise even as his wand instinctively appeared in his hand.

He was not prepared for this.

A battered and bruised non-Hogwarts house elf wearing a filthy pillowcase was talking with his son.

For Harry, many things made sense. Like how he could always count on Hermione to talk about studying in her letters. Some things did not, but he knew someday they would. Like what really was so great about kissing?

Other things he was sure were mysteries beyond human understanding, and would never be found out. Like why all the girls (and some of the boys) at Hogwarts seemed to fancy Professor Lockhart. Or why his former professor (now dad) seemed to like getting sandwiches from Professor Sprout and talking to Professor Flitwick and arguing with Professor McGonagall.

Equally confusing was all the time his dad spent with Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. After the incident when they were shopping for school supplies, his dad seemed to spend a lot of time with Ron and Draco's dads. It was weird. According to Ron, Mr. Weasley really hated Mr. Malfoy. Even Draco seemed confused about what happened. The blonde boy seemed curious enough to even stop making fun of him, Ron, and Hermione long enough to have a conversation from time to time. Well, mostly.  

It had started with Dobby showing up. Dad had tricked the house elf into saying he belonged to the Malfoys. He hadn't gotten much more out of Dobby before he vanished, but apparently, it had made his dad extremely suspicious when they met Mr. Malfoy and Draco in Flourish and Blotts. Harry and his dad had gone with the Weasleys and the Grangers to get school things, and his dad saw Mr. Malfoy slip something into Ginny's cauldron.

Looking back, he was fairly sure his dad went crazy at that moment. Completely bonkers.

He didn't hear what his dad said to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, but his dad took them both outside the bookstore. He and Ron could see the three of them talking through the window, but couldn't hear anything. Whatever his dad said must have been impactful, according to Hermione. And had something to do with the diary that Mr. Malfoy had tried to give Ginny. Because now the three of them seemed to spend tons of time together.

He was fairly sure Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy still hated each other though. His dad complained about their bickering every time the three of them got back from ‘doing a favor for Dumbledore.' 

The first thing they did together was destroy the diary. Harry didn't know all the details about that. Mr. Malfoy caught him eavesdropping when he and Mr. Weasley had come to Hogwarts to talk with his dad about destroying the diary. He'd gotten into a lot of trouble. But before they'd kicked him out he'd managed to hear that they needed to talk to Hagrid about something called a Basilisk and getting its venom.

It was all very confusing.

Most confusing of all, however, was how his most hated professor had somehow turned into his dad. Not that Harry minded, too much. It was nice knowing he had a parent. He could talk to his dad about things he couldn't talk to his friends about. And - even though he'd never admit it - he rather liked it when his dad checked up on him and made sure he was eating enough and doing his homework.

He could do without talking about his grades so much, though.

He could also do without having to explain to his dad - every time - how he ended up in detention. No one else at Hogwarts had to do that. That was definitely unfair.

Just like how it was unfair when his dad took time off to 'do a favor for Dumbledore,' but he wasn't allowed to take extra time off to visit his grandparents. He'd only just got grandparents! He had a lot of missed time to make up for!

"Harry?" he heard his dad's voice calling him from his bedroom.

"Yeah?" Harry was waiting impatiently in his father's sitting room, his school bag and a backpack filled with clothes were waiting by the door. "Are you ready to go yet?"

His father appeared at the door to his bedroom, "Do you remember when you at least pretended to have some respect for me? Do you think you could try doing that again?"

Harry grinned, "Probably not. Can we go now? Christmas holidays will be over, and we won't even have left!"

"Brat," his dad declared and rolled his eyes before he disappeared back into his bedroom. "Are you sure you packed everything? I'm not coming back here because you forgot something."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes!"

"Toothbrush and toothpaste?"

"Yes!"

"Hairbrush?"

"Yes!"

"Plenty of underwear?"

"Yes! Dad! Come on!"

Harry's eyes grew wide, and he waited for his dad to appear in the doorway. Would he be angry? Sure, he'd been calling his dad ‘dad' in his head for a few weeks, but he'd never said it aloud. It wasn't something they'd even talked about. And his dad liked talking about things.

Really, liked talking about things.

And definitely didn't like surprises.

"What about pants and shirts? Did you pack at least one nice outfit in case we go out somewhere?"

Harry forgot how to answer. Hadn't his dad heard what he'd said? How couldn't he? Would he be angry? They hadn't talked about him being called ‘dad.' What if he didn't like it?

A moment later, his dad walked out of the bedroom carrying a large bag of his own and came over to the chair where Harry was waiting.

His dad mussed up his hair. "Well?"

Harry just looked up at him. "What?"

His dad rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "I asked if you remembered to pack a nice outfit in case we go out."

"Oh." Harry blinked. "Um, yeah. I did."

His dad nodded. "Alright, son, let's go. If we're late, I'll never hear the end of it from your grandmother."

Harry grinned. "Okay, Dad."