Astronomy was not Ian’s favorite subject. Sure, it was interesting in many aspects, but quite a lot of the theory they had to learn really wasn’t that important, at least not until they got the be in their fifth or sixth year. So he got bored, despite his eagerness to learn new things. Therefore it was with a relieved sigh that he put the final touches to his star chart and leaned back in his chair in the library. There, he was finished. Now he had no more homework to do this week and he was free to do whatever he wanted.

Gathering his things he contemplated whether he should see if some of his year mates wanted to do something fun or if he should just spend the rest of the day reading ahead. They were going to start learning the fire charm in Charms, and some of the theory behind it was quite interesting.

-          “Uhm, you haven’t seen Harry, have you?”

Slightly startled by the voice Ian spun around and spotted Ron Weasley standing just behind him. The other boy had a defensive look over him and Ian felt himself tense. They were both friends of Potter’s but they were by no means friends. They’d never talked to each other without Potter being there.

-          “No, I haven’t,” Ian replied casually. “Why would I?”

Weasley shrugged.

-          “He went to detention with Snape and hasn’t come back yet.”

-          “Detention?”

-          “Well, that weekly meeting thing. It’s basically a detention, only Harry hasn’t actually done anything to earn it!”

Ian raised an eyebrow at that.

-          “It’s not a detention,” he pointed out. “From what I hear they are just talking, and drinking tea.”

-          “Well, he hasn’t come back yet and it’s dinnertime soon.”

-          “So? Maybe they are just taking more time?”

-          “It’s nearly dinnertime! Normally Harry’s back before lunch.”

Carefully putting the last of his things away Ian wondered what had happened. Had something gone wrong? Was it because of what he had said, earlier? A knot formed in his stomach. He had only intended to help but if things had gone from bad to worse because of what he had said then it was his fault!

-          “I’ll go see if I can find them,” he sighed.

-          “I’ll come with you.”

-          “No you don’t.”

-          “Why not?” Weasley asked, his voice taking on a sharp edge.

-          “Because if they are taking this long I doubt they are in the office. I’m going to check Father’s quarters and you won’t be able to get in.”

With that Ian swung the bag over his shoulder and headed for the dungeons. Worried thoughts kept running through his mind. What if he had only made things worse? Should he have stayed quiet after all? But he had only meant to help and he was old enough to understand that father could not actually perform miracles.

Once he reached the dungeons he quickened his steps a little. A quick detour to Father’s office revealed that the door was locked. As he had suspected they were not there. He headed for their quarters instead, wondering what was going on.

-          “Pineapple,” he told the knocker and pushed the door open.

He came to an abrupt halt as he spotted what had once been the living room.

All of the bookcases were on the floor, books spread all over the place. The sofa had been moved against a wall and there were a large area of soot covering the walls closest to the fireplace. Father was sitting in one of the armchairs, which had also been pushed out of place, head leaned back and eyes closed. What had happened?

-          “What happened?” he asked.

Father opened his eyes and spotted him standing just inside the door. He looked tired, Ian thought.

-          “Well … There was an incident,” father explained vaguely, sighing.

-          “An incident? This place is a mess!”

-          “Indeed.”

Ian waited for his father to explain himself but no further explanation came.

-          “Well? Are you going to tell me what happened?” he demanded.

-          “Potter and I had a … moment, together.”

-          “You mean you did this? Together?”

-          “You could say that, yes.”

-          “What kind of answer is that?”

-          “It’s hard to explain.”

Noticing that Father still hadn’t made to stand Ian realized that whatever had happened must have taken a toll on his father. And if Father was this tired, how was Potter then?

-          “Where’s Potter?” Ian wondered when he could not see the other boy.

-          “He’s in the other room.”

-          “Other room?”

-          “Yes. I had the elves attach an old storage to the kitchen and then refurnish it into a bedroom for Potter.”

-          “Oh. That’s … That’s good.”

Despite his own best intentions he could feel a little sting of jealousy. He crushed it down though, determined not to let it overtake him. There was nothing to be jealous about.

-          “Yes, it is. I did not think you two would like to share.”

At that Ian smiled a little, at least. No, he was not very good at sharing. It was a good thing that Father had gone to all of that trouble to give them a room each.

-          “Well, I suppose I should see about getting this place cleaned up a bit,” Father sighed. “Nibby!”

The Hogwarts house elf that usually looked after their quarters appeared a moment later.

-          “What can Nibby do for … Ah, what has happened?”

Horrified it looked around the room before settling its eyes on Snape once again.

-          “Master Snape, sir? Where did this mess come from?”

-          “I’m sorry about the mess, Nibby. It’s entirely my fault, I’m afraid. Would you mind cleaning it up for me?”

-          “Not at all, Master Snape, but … how? Nibby has never seen something like this before!”

HPHPHPHPHP

Waking up in a room you did not recognize, with no recollection of how you got there, was very strange. It took him a moment before he remembered where he was.

Snape’s quarters, he recalled. And this was, supposedly at least, his room. Harry’s room.

Stretching and yawning he sat up in bed, looking around curiously. He had only gotten a short look on it earlier, before he had freaked out.

There was a candle on his bedside table, which emitted enough light for him to see the room somewhat clearly. The room had no windows, though that fact did not bother Harry too much. Having grown up in a cupboard Harry was able to appreciate the good parts of this room. For example, the bed he was in was very soft and warm, and there were several blankets to keep him warm despite the chill in the dungeons.

Swiftly he put the blankets aside and stood, careful to put them back in place again afterwards so that everything would be neat and orderly. After the day he had had, there was no need to risk anger Snape with a details such as an unmade bed.

With the candle in his hand Harry moved over to the desk. It was empty but a quick look in the drawers revealed them to be filled with parchment, ink and quills. The wardrobe was, of course, empty but sizable enough to contain all of Harry’s clothes at least twice. Then again, literally everything Harry owned could be stored into his school trunk.

He startled as he heard voices speaking somewhere outside his room. Though he could not hear what they were saying they reminded him that he would have to leave this room sooner or later and confront Snape once again. Just the thought of it made his cheeks burn.

Despite his nap his head still ached from the emotional outburst earlier. He felt sluggish and definitely in no shape to face Snape. Then again, he had no idea how Snape would be acting now. Would he still be acting nice, like he had earlier that day? Or would he be mad at Harry for making such a scene?

Either way Harry did not know how he was supposed to act, after what had happened. He could not remember ever throwing a tantrum like that. He had learned early on that his tears were worth nothing as far as the Dursley’s were concerned. In fact, crying tended to get him in more trouble. Dudley frequently cried and made a big scene just to get things his way but somehow Harry doubted that him sporting fake tears would make Snape want to buy him a TV.

Taking a deep breath Harry put the candle away and tried to flatten his clothes and hair. He’d have to face Snape again sooner or later. He might as well seek the man out now instead of waiting for Snape to come seek him out.

Steeling himself he pushed the door open.

His eyes fell on Ian, sitting comfortably by the table. A moment later he realized that Snape was there too, and that they had stopped talking and were now looking at him. Harry tried to suppress a blush.

-          “Are you feeling any better?” Snape asked.

-          “Yes sir,” Harry replied, looking down at the floor.

-          “That’s good.”

An awkward silence fell over the room, Harry looking at his father and brother while trying to appear like he wasn’t and them doing the same. Then Snape spoke again, apparently realizing that he would have to be the one to break the awkwardness.

-          “If neither of you have any arguments against it I was thinking that we could eat dinner here tonight, and save ourselves the trouble of walking to the great hall.”

It was already time for dinner? Harry had gone to see Snape shortly after breakfast. Had he slept through the whole day? Had Snape actually let him sleep the whole day?

-          “I’m fine,” Ian commented, looking at their father.

-          “And you, Harry?” Snape asked.

For a moment Harry could do nothing but stare. Had Snape just used his first name?

-          “Harry? Are you agreeable to eating dinner here instead of in the great hall?”

-          “Yeah,” Harry nodded, still feeling shocked.

Ron and Hermione were probably worried about him by now, if he had spent the whole day in the dungeons, but Harry found himself unable to refuse. Not that he terribly longed to spend more time in the company of Snape and Ian. No, it was more that he thought refusing would be perceived as terribly rude. It did not matter how nice Snape had been earlier that day, Harry was not going to test his luck.

-          “Oh, I almost forgot,” Ian said as they all seated themselves around the table. “Weasley was looking for you.”

-          “Really? Maybe I should go and … find him, then,” Harry replied.

-          “I am sure Mr. Weasley will survive another half an hour or so on his own. Eat your dinner first,” Snape interjected.

As in the Great Hall the food magically appeared on the table. It appeared to be a small selection of what was served to the rest of the school and it smelled deliciously. Harry’s stomach growled eagerly.  

-          “Yes sir,” He agreed, serving himself from the closest plate.

They all helped themselves to some food and for a few minutes they ate in somewhat comfortable silence.

-          “Speaking of friends,” Snape finally broke the silence, “there are a number of rules that I expect will be followed in these quarters.”

Though his voice was rather casual, at least for being Snape, the words made Harry’s stomach clench nervously. Of course there would be rules. There were always rules. It was the price he paid for being comfortable. These rules would be the price he paid for having access to Snape’s quarters and for having his own room. He just hoped that he would be able to afford it.

-          “You will be able to bring friends here,” Snape explained. “They will not be able to see through the wards but as long as they are in direct, physical contact with you they will be able to pass through the door and then move freely around.”

-          “Which means they will have to hold your hand as you walk through the door,” Ian interpreted. “Once you are through you don’t have to keep holding their hands anymore though.”

-          “I would, however, prefer it if you did not bring the entirety of Gryffindor Tower in here at the same time. Two or three friends at the time, at the most, is the limit I have put with Ian. Is that agreeable with you, Harry?”

It was still strange to hear Snape using his first name, especially when he was talking about rules. Harry almost thought the man was speaking to someone else.

-          “I … I can bring friends over?” he repeated, wondering if he had misunderstood something.

-          “Yes you can.”

Harry took a moment just to grasp that thought. He did not only have a room of his very own (one that was not really someone else’s second bedroom or a cupboard under the stairs) but he was also allowed to bring friends over to see that room.

-          “Basic rules include showing respect for the furniture, keeping things orderly and cleaning up your own messes. If you chose to bring friends here you will be held responsible for their actions as well as your own,” Snape continued.

Still reeling at the prospect of bringing Ron and Hermione to see his room Harry tried to focus on what Snape was telling him. The food he had already forgotten.

-          “If you wish to bring a girl here I expect you to leave the door to your room open.”

Ian made a funny face, which Snape ignored entirely in favor of continuing to list the rules.

-          “My room is off limits, except on invitation or special circumstances, as is Ian’s. That goes the other way too. Ian, you are not to enter Harry’s room except if he invites you.”

Suddenly looking serious Ian nodded at their father, showing that he had understood. Snape gave both boys a stern, though not unkind, look before he spoke again.

-          “I reserve the right to enter any room at any given time, but will show basic respect for your privacy.”

There were rules for Ian too? Harry thought, struggling to keep up. Was Snape actually dictating rules that would keep Ian out of Harry’s room? It seemed unbelievable but the serious nod from Ian suggested that it was for real.

His room really was his. He could choose to invite whoever he wanted and he could also choose whom not to invite. Neither Snape nor Ian would come barging in. Or at least that was the idea. Harry still wasn’t quite sure that he believed it but the fact that Snape was even saying it somehow got to him.

-          “That summarize the rules, I believe” Snape finished. “Any questions?”

-          “Uh … not really.”

His mind was still spinning and he struggled to make it all fit together. He could not help but think of how different this was to the rules that had been presented to him during the summer, merely half a year ago.

-          “Eat your food,” Snape reminded him.

Harry picked up his fork but afterwards he had no idea of what he had eaten.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Later that evening Harry sat in the common room with Ron and Hermione, who had apparently put their disagreements of the Firebolt aside in favor of their worry for him.

-          “So what happened to you mate? I thought Snape’d chopped you up to potions ingredients or something!” Ron asked.

-          “He wouldn’t have done that,” Hermione pointed out soberly, though she too looked a bit worried. “He’s still a teacher at the school. Dumbledore wouldn’t allow it.”

-          “Well, so it’s “or something” then! Either way, what did he do? You were down there for long!”

-          “I don’t know, really,” Harry admitted. “It’s all kind of … blurry.”

If possible Hermione looked even more worried. She spoke worriedly;

-          “I know he’s a professor, and I know he’s your father, but there are some things he just can’t do! Harry, if he’s hurting you, you have to …”

-          “He’s not hurting me!” Harry hurried to assure her.

-          “Are you sure?” Ron asked. “Because you look like a right mess.”

-          “I’m sure. It’s just … I kind of destroyed his living room.”

-          “You did what?” Ron and Hermione asked in almost perfect unison.

-          “I didn’t do it on purpose!” Harry defended himself, holding up his hands. “I swear!”

-          “Harry, even if he’s a right git to you, you can’t just go around destroying his living room!”

Ron had gone pale, looking like he was about to faint. Harry ignored Hermione’s comment in favor of watching his friend, in case he would lose consciousness.

-          “Ron? Are you ok?”

-          “Just think of all the detention that would give. Years and years of dicing slimy, disgusting things or scrubbing cauldrons that will never become clean …”

-          “If Harry destroyed his living room then he deserves that detention!”

-          “But Hermione! We’ll never see him again! Snape will keep him in detention ‘till he’s as old as Dumbledore! At least!”

Deciding that it was time to calm his friend Harry spoke up.

-          “Actually, he didn’t give me detention.”

-          “He didn’t expel you, did he?!”

-          “No, no, not at all!”

-          “Then what did he do?”

Now both Ron and Hermione were looking at him and Harry found himself struggling to come up with the easiest way to explain things. But how to explain what had happened when he wasn’t even entirely sure himself? Snape had taken him to his quarters, given him a room of his own and then … then he’d panicked and could only remember bits and pieces of what had happened. Now afterwards it made him feel stupid and he could not help but blush at the thought of it.

-          “Well, he … I don’t know! But he wasn’t mad, and then he let me sleep all day and then we had dinner and …”

From the looks on their faces he could tell that he wasn’t making much sense. Harry sighed tiredly.

-          “Look, I … He was actually being nice and stuff, I just freaked out.”

-          “Snape was nice?” Ron asked incredulously. “No wonder you freaked out!”

-          “What did he do?” Hermione wondered.

-          “Well, he … he took me to his quarters. He showed me around and then he gave me a room of my own and I … I just didn’t know what to do.”

She gave him a pitying look and Harry gritted his teeth. He did not need nor want her pity!

-          “So … you saw Snape’s quarters?” Ron clarified.

-          “Yeah.”

-          “What was it like? Does he sleep in a coffin?”

-          “Now you’re being stupid, Ronald! Of course he doesn’t sleep in a coffin! I imagine he’d have lots of potions ingredients though, since he’s the potions professor and all …”

They both looked at him, waiting for him to confirm their thoughts. Harry thought back at Snape’s quarters and tried to find the right words to describe it.

-          “No coffin, as far as I could see,” he told Ron. “And no potions ingredients either. I think he keeps those elsewhere. There were books though, several shelves full of them.”

-          “What books?” Hermione wanted to know.

-          “Dark arts?” Ron suggested. ¨

-          “I don’t think so,” Harry replied. “I mean, Ian’s got access there too, so I don’t think he’d leave those kinds of books where anyone could get them, even if he did have them.”

Harry shrugged. The books hadn’t really interested him and still didn’t do so.

-          “Unless Snape’s training him in the dark arts,” Ron said.

-          “Training who?” Harry asked, discovering that his mind had strayed from the discussion at hand.

-          “Ian of course! Who else?”

-          “He’s a first year!” Hermione interjected.

-          “So? I bet Malfoy knows a couple of dark curses that his father taught him. Why wouldn’t Snape do the same?”

-          “Because he’s a professor and Dumbledore wouldn’t allow it!”

They bickered back and forth for a while but in the end neither of them were able to convince the other.

-          “So, where is Snape’s quarters anyway?” Ron finally wondered.

-          “In the dungeons. I can take you there tomorrow, if you’d like.”

-          “You can?”

-          “Yeah.”

-          “Won’t Snape get mad?”

-          “I don’t think so. He said I could bring friends over, as long as we didn’t make too much of a mess of the place.”

Not much later Harry went to bed, tired despite having slept for several hours that day. As he pulled the curtains around his bed closed he thought about the bedroom in the dungeons, the one that Snape had labelled as Harry’s. Something within him swelled at the thought and that night he dreamt that maybe, just maybe, he could have a real family.