Professor Severus Snape marched down the corridor that led to his private chambers, holding a sleeping baby boy. The eight-month old Boy-Who-Lived had dozed off moments after the Aging Potion was given to him; despite the fact that three new, small pearly white teeth had been added to his mouth. It was fortunate that he had given him something to eat before they would go into Poppy's Hospital Wing. Snape's eyes flushed dangerously when he remembered the Healer's "trick." Only that woman could have decided to take such an action to his expense."I'll show her! She is, so, going to pay for this!" he thought while he turned the doorknob.

The Potions Master stopped dead and blinked. He retreated two steps back and turned his head to the right. "Door number one . . . Door number two . . . Door number three . . ." he counted inside. He was indeed; outside the correct chamber. But . . .

"What the Hell happened to my room?" he murmured while he kept staring in shock.

His private, most glorious, chamber had been completely re-decorated. His large four-poster bed, that used to be in the middle of the room, was now placed at the bedroom's left corner. The small living-room had vanished to thin air and the huge Persian carpet that covered the whole room had been replaced with a soft, mattress-like substance that was decorated with magical pictures of kittens, puppies, clouds and bunnies. Harry's toys were neatly sorted by size and shape near the library, which had been transferred near the four-poster. The only thing that had left untouched was his mahogany desk, his private storeroom and his cauldron.

The raven-haired man was transfixed. He kept staring at his chamber with mixed emotions. One part of him felt pure surprise. He had never realised that his bedroom could be so big. The other part was purely angered and loathsome. He cautiously stepped inside the room, as if he was afraid that the new mattress-like carpet would suck his foot. To his surprise, he was right. That thing, whatever it was, was so soft that it caused his foot sink inside it. Snape tried to move his right leg, only to discover that the unstable surface caused him to trip slightly. Fortunately, he managed to maintain his balance and not fall. He looked at baby Harry that kept sleeping, unaware of the severity of his professor's problem. Walking as if the room's floor was a huge minefield, Snape managed to place the infant on the big four-poster.

He then tried to turn to his tracks, only to discover that the "Monstrous Carpet" was preventing him to do so, since his shoes were now stuck. Sighing in desperation, Snape removed his shoes. His feet touched the soft substance, creating a sense of comfort and for a moment he felt his anger to subside, slightly. He paced towards his office and taking a small bell, he tinkled it twice.

A small pop was heard and Dobby the house-elf appeared in front of him. The tall man felt his eyes stinging slightly at the multicolour of the elf's clothes. Dobby's tea-cosy was decorated with small stamp-like badges that gleamed furiously. He wore a maroon jumper, the most hideous electric- blue-with-vertical-luminous-green-stripes tie a person had laid eyes on; and a pair of violet shorts. But the elf's socks, or rather stockings, where the ones that caused the most surprise to him. The right stocking was a pink-with-black-dots one, while the left one was a mustard-yellow plain one.

"Of all the free house-elves in the world, Dumbledore had to hire the one with such a bad taste in clothes," the Potions Master thought instantly. Dobby bowed, his bat-flap like ears moving furiously.

"How can Dobby help; Master Professor Snape sir?" he asked with his squeaky high-pitched voice.

"And may I ask;" Snape asked quietly and stopped mysteriously for a couple of moments, "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY ROOM?" he shouted. Then remembering that baby Harry was sleeping, he turned towards the bed apprehensively. He let a sigh of relief. Luckily the boy had not waked up.

Dobby's ears flapped in fear and he started quivering slightly. He looked at the malicious-looking man that stood opposite him. Professor Snape was known for his cool calmness but this time things had gone too far. Even humble poor Dobby could understand that.

"Dobby is sorry Master Professor Snape Sir. Master Professor Dumbledore is asking for Dobby and the rest of the elves to prepare Master Professor Snape's room sir." the house-elf squeaked quickly, while he watched the professor's eyes flare in anger. "And Dobby is always listens to Master Professor Dumbledore's orders. Even if Master Professor Snape . . ."

"Ok, Ok, Dobby! I got the message!" Snape snapped impatiently, a vein pulsing dangerously at his temple. Not only he had heard the longest, and most irritating, Master-Professor-speech of all times, but now he had the urge to kill a certain damned-twinkling eyes old man. He breathed heavily and looked down at the elf that shook violently with fear.

Dobby closed his eyes, expecting Snape's rage to land on his head. He had given Professor Snape bad news and back at his old masters, bad news was always rewarded with punishment, while good news was rewarded with nothing at all. He felt the towering man opposite him examining him. He expected a violent outcome like a Stinging Hex but as moments passed he could do nothing but open his tennis-ball eyes and blink slightly.

The tall professor was standing opposite him, his eyes closed. He looked like a man, who was trying to calm himself by counting, only to find out that that kind of attempt helped a headache to develop and provided no comfort at all. Dobby waited patiently until the man would open his eyes.

"Dobby," Professor Snape started with his voice being a weird mixture of anger, restrain and high-pitched squeak "stay here, and look after Potter for me, for a while. I have something to discuss with Professor Dumbledore." Finishing his words he wore his shoes and walked carefully towards the door.

"Master . . ." Dobby squeaked worriedly but stopped when he realised the severity of what he had just done. Trying to question your master's decision was outrageous and he knew that the consequences would be harsh on him. But Professor Snape turned around and waited his mouth forming a scowl of impatience.

"Yes Dobby?" he questioned, while his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Master Professor Snape will not . . ." the house-elf started apprehensively and then stopped, as if even thinking of such a thing was worst than the incest-taboo. Snape did not understand what Dobby was implying. However something inside him blinked and smirking slightly he answered back, while he exited the room. "Don't worry, I will not hurt him"

"Much!" he thought as he closed the door behind him and marched towards Dumbledore's office.

)-)-)

"Now remember," Snape reminded himself seriously, as if his self had split to a mature one and a younger one. "He will use words and his be-damned twinkling eyes to disorient you. Be careful of not being distracted by them ok? Or you'll be lost in seconds. Got that?"

"It's not like I am facing a Basilisk! I am just seeing the school's headmaster. You know, that kind old wizard that would never hurt a fly" the younger voice replied back in confidence, while Snape murmured the new password; "Ton-tongue Toffee" and without paying attention to the older voice's defeated remark.

"Boy, You Are Doomed!"

)-)-)

"Ah, Severus! So good to see you so soon! Lemon Drop?" the old wizard spoke calmly, while the menacing Potion Master entered his office, ready to explode.

"OH LEAVE THE LEMON-DROPS-HINGY-WHHIZBY STUFF AND TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO MY ROOM!" Snape cried out.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, remained as cool as peach, despite the younger man's shouting. He granted Snape one of his mysterious smiles and pointed at the red-velvet chair that was placed opposite his own desk.

"Severus, do sit down." Dumbledore said calmly.

Snape harrumphed slightly and sat down. He crossed his arms together and kept looking at the older man impatiently. Dumbledore was holding something inside his hands and his long fingers were playing with it. The raven-haired man's eyes darkened and narrowed. Why was the old man trying his patience? Why did he always have to try to enrage him? The answer was simple. It was because he was too good with the man. If he had shouted and refused, the many times Dumbledore said something; he wouldn't be sitting there, being in such a position.

"And I wouldn't have to take care of the boy. I mean Potter. It's not that he isn't cute. STOP DOING THAT! POTTER IS NOT CUTE! YOU DON'T LIKE POTTER! Ok? Good! I wonder if he is ok. Can Dobby take care of him? He gets so sloppy sometimes. STOP DOING THAT! THINK OF DUMBLEDORE! THINK OF ANGER! Don't think about Potter!"

He turned his attention to Dumbledore, who had placed a Lemon Drop in front of him. Feeling some of his previous anger returning, he looked at Dumbledore and, then unwrapping the Lemon Drop and placed it inside his mouth.

"See? I ate your stupid Lemon Drop! Now will you tell me what you have done to my room?" he asked impatiently, as he sucked the sweet thing in his mouth.

"Young man I did nothing that will not prove me correct later on," the headmaster of Hogwarts answered back enigmatically.

Snape's cheeks reddened for a couple of moments. That supposed to be answer? He hated that kind of explanations. He hated that Dumbledore was toying with his limited amounts of tolerance.

"Merlin, give me the strength not to kill him!" he thought, while he kept staring at the older man that was seated opposite him.

"But why is my whole bedroom decorated like a giant playground? And most importantly, why does my bedroom contains a mattress-like carpet of doom?" he continued, stressing one word after another, as if violating the words would prevent him from attacking Dumbledore, and then crunched the Lemon Drop.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said softly "you will soon find out that the little bundle of joy you take care of is going to need a lot of space and comfort."

"Yeah, little bundle of joy." Snape commented inside sarcastically "A little bundle of trouble is much more appropriate."

"You should have asked me first Headmaster." the hook-nosed professor said, feeling extremely irritated. "You don't just order the all the house-elves in the castle to come and re-decorate my room. This is a violation of my rights as a professor here."

"To make things clear, I only used twenty house-elves to redecorate your room. If I had used every one the castle contains, we would have left without dinner. Your room is not that big. But now Severus, if I had asked for your permission to redecorate your room; would you have allowed it?"

"Certainly not!"

"See my point?"

)-)-)

"I told you that this was a lost battle," the older voice commented into Severus Snape's head, as he was strolling downward the corridor, towards his room.

Snape ignored the comment and continued his pace, feeling angry and exhausted. Just a few steps outside his room, he heard an ear-splitting scream, followed by a few anxious wails. He felt a strange flip-flap in his chest and he had to regain all of his logic so that he would not rush into his room. He had caught himself doing it a few days before, when the last of the Weasley brothers was having a detention. Just a simple cry from Potter and he found himself dropping the cup containing the armadillo bile and running to check out for him. By Merlin's Wondrous Magic, he had never dropped anything as important as a Potion Ingredient in his life. This baby thing was affecting him more and more. He turned his chamber's door and entered the room, trying hard to keep his face neutral.

Baby Harry was wailing frantically inside Dobby's little, skinny arms. His little face was deep red, as he kicked and tried to escape Dobby's grasp. Poor Dobby was trying hard to calm the infant by making little shaking movements.

"Oh please Harry Potter. Stop cry. Dobby is unhappy when Harry Potter is sad" Dobby squeaked unhappily, in the verge of start crying himself.

Snape felt the urge to start laughing. Dobby seemed so helpless, trying to calm down baby Harry, he was almost laughable. Snape removed his shoes and paced on the mattress-like carpet. Scooping baby Harry into his arms, he started moving around the room, rubbing the boy's tiny back. Feeling the strong arms wrapping around him, the infant started to calm down. His wail transformed to small sobs and finally to hiccups.

"See Potter? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Snape whispered, trying to control his voice to not become a soothing one. The boy calmed down and started snoozing.

Snape placed baby Harry into the cradle and turned to see Dobby, who stood near the chamber's wooden door. The house-elf seemed a bit disappointed and kept staring at his maroon jumper. The Potion Master guessed that Dobby felt that way because of his incapability to look after Potter properly. A house-elf was not allowed to fail in the work that was assigned to him. However, he could suspect that Dobby had never looked after an infant before in his entire life. For the Malfoys may were paranoid when it came to the point of purebloods and muggleborns, yet they cherished and loved Draco to the point they were spoiling him rotten.

Snape sighed as he remembered about. . . But he shook his head and gritted his teeth immediately, trying to block out the memories. There was no space into his heart and soul for those kinds of things. Not any more. He turned his attention to the house-elf once again, his sight, mixed with bitterness and appreciation. Nodding his head downwards, as he always did to thank someone; he dismissed Dobby and looked at the luminous clock at the wall. It was half-past-nine. Opening his wooden wardrobe, he took out a pair of blue-white striped boxers and a long-sleeved t-shirt that had the magic picture of a babbling cauldron. Doing so, he retreated into the bathroom.

)-)-)

"She said I couldn't make it." Snape thought looking at baby Harry, "She thought I wouldn't last an hour from now on. How damn true she was!"

"No Potter! Don't throw . . . the goblet," the professor said as the infant threw the goblet of water that was placed at the small table near his bed. Harry giggled as he saw the water spilling into the mattress-like carpet and forming a puddle. Snape sighed and knelt down holding his wand. He was about to charm the carpet with a warming charm when a stuffed toy hit him at the top of his head.

"I am going to kill that boy!" he though gritting his teeth. "No, I have to be calm. No reason to get angry. He is just a baby boy . . ."

He stood up and scooped the baby boy into his arms. He placed him on the new carpet with all of his toys. Harry let out a happy squeal and stared at his guardian, who re-treated behind his desk and started scratching his quill on a piece of parchment. Baby Harry babbled happily and fell back on his back. He started touching his legs and then rolled on his tummy. He put his little hands down and tried to raise himself. Slowly he found himself standing in four. He tried to move forward, only to discover that he was a bit weak. He stumbled and fell on the carpet. He looked up at his guardian, who was not paying attention to him. He sat up and looked at his toys once again. He took a soft ball and threw it towards the old man, hitting him.

Severus Snape stared at the parchment he was marking in pure horror. A red line was now crossing the whole parchment, as if it was all a pure mistake. And the irony was that it belonged to Hermione Granger. She was going to have a fit when she was going to lay her eyes on it. As a purely next Minerva-McGonagall wannabe and insufferable Gryffindor student, that girl was a perfectionist. And he was a perfectionist too. And as a perfectionist to perfectionist, he knew she was going to have a fit. At least that was what he was going to do now.

He stood up and sat down the floor, opposite the little green-eyed monster, known as the Boy-Who-Lived by many in the wizarding world, but the Insufferable-Baby-of-Doom to him, Harry Potter.

"You know, Boy." Snape started with his dangerous silky voice. "You used to be afraid of me, some years ago. But now, you throw things at me and you think that I like it. Well I don't. I am not cuddly or good. I am your worst nightmare. I read stories to you, but you ought to be afraid of me. To make things short, you must never, ever throw stuffed balls or unicorns or any other weird-stuffed-with- feathers thing. You know why? Because I am Professor Severus Snape, your Potion Master. And believe me. You are obliged to feel afraid of me!"

The small baby boy stared at the man with his olive-green eyes without making any movement.

"Good Shot Severus!" the professor congratulated himself. "You scared the Hell out of him. Now he will never act mischievously ever again"

Baby Harry, however, giggled lightly and moving forward he hugged his professors cheeks and kissed the tip of his nose. Professor Snape backed, while two red blotches painted his cheeks. Touching the tip of his nose, where the sloppy kiss had landed, he sighed and said in defeat:

"Potter, I will never understand you."