“Clear your mind.”

Harry shifted and tried to do as he was told. It was yet another “Occlumency” lesson and Harry was having just as much difficulty with it as he had had the other times. He was sitting in a slightly different place on the floor this time and the low whirling of the air conditioning was distracting him, blowing hair from his fringe slightly against his forehead.

“Concentrate, Potter,” Snape said a couple of feet from where Harry was sitting, bringing him back to task. Harry’s eyes were closed but he was sure that the man was looking at him annoyingly from his chair, perhaps glaring at him.

Harry tried, he really did, but it was as if he just couldn’t do it. There was always something in his head, ready to pop up and steal his attention away. He breathed out fully, and then in. Snape was always telling him stuff about breathing, and how he should concentrate on it, maybe it really would help.

There was a long moment of silence, perhaps Snape thought that he had actually tried to do it this time, before the nudge against Harry’s leg told him that it was time to open his eyes.

Snape was leaning forward, his dark eyes peering into his own, but Harry only saw reproachment in them. He sat back in the chair, “Again.”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes once more from his seat on the floor. Hopefully, Snape would give up soon, not that Harry was eager to continue onto the other part of the lesson.

“Do not focus on your thoughts or pay them any attention, focus on your breathing,” Snape instructed him lowly.

Harry tried, he told himself to breathe in but doing just that was too easy and everything else hovered behind his eyelids. Everything; his school, Snape, dinner, the room, the AC and smell of the house, his toys, outside, himself, all of it was there and clamoring for his attention.

“The breathing, and nothing else.”

In and out, Harry breathed, and then shifted around a little. It was hard to try to do nothing for such a long time. He opened his eyes suddenly, catching Snape as off guardedly as he had ever seen him, just looking at him. But Snape just kept looking at him just the same and Harry quickly grew uncomfortable and shut his eyes again.

“The air is bothering me,” Harry said.

“Then move,” Snape said without ceremony.

Harry frowned, but scooted over to another spot on the floor where the air wouldn’t be blowing on him. He slumped his shoulders and tried again, not at all happy that he always had to have these lessons.

“Stop slouching, Potter or I’ll make you sit up against the wall,” Snape threatened for once. Harry straightened immediately, the wall did not sound comfortable.

From behind his eyelids, he tried to ignore the things demanding his attention and clear his mind and focus on his breathing like Snape said, but the fact that they were demanding his attention stole him away. There was the tell-tale nudge against his knee, and Harry opened his eyes for his mental self to be assessed again.

Snape sighed. “Perhaps with repetition and time you may show some improvement,” he said grumpily. “But for now, I believe that we have pushed this exercise as far as we can go. Get up.”

Harry hated this next part. Snape took out his wand and Harry tensed up. He knew what was coming. This was the time where Snape got back at him for being a pest and not being able to clear his mind earlier.

“Alright, Potter, do your best to not do as you’re told. Try to disobey with every fiber of your being.”

“Cognito face a Potter,” Snape whispered as he waved his wand in wide swishes before jabbing it towards Harry. The familiar, icky feeling of something slithering into him was felt and Harry tried to steel himself. He was determined to not give Snape the satisfaction this time.

“Touch the ceiling,” was commanded into every aware and unaware cell of Harry’s body and he looked up, seeing the white mottled ceiling above him. He reached up. “Touch it.” He got on his tip toes but he couldn’t reach it.

“You’re short and pathetic, Potter. You can’t reach something that high, why don’t you stop trying?” Snape said lightly but Harry ignored him and tried again to touch it, hopping a little. Since when did he ever listen to Snape?

“It’s pointless,” Snape taunted, flicking his wand up and down in time with Harry’s ever increasing jumps. “Impossible…”

No, Harry would reach it, he’d reach it…

“FIGHT, Potter,” Snape said harshly. “Fight it, you little twerp.”

Harry kept jumping, his arms reaching up and his eyes focused on the prize above him. His head was flung so far back that he lost his balance and feel back onto the floor. He was feeling a little dizzy.

“Ah, I see,” said Snape, and he continued in a matter of fact tone. “You can’t disobey. Might as well go along with it, no point trying,”

No, wait…

“Get up.” Disoriented, Harry felt himself get up. He knew he didn’t have to do this, he could try to stop.

“Walk on the ceiling.” Harry renewed his jumping and soon fell flat on his back again. He didn’t want to do this.

The spell was lifted. “Perhaps a short break,” Snape suggested as he pocketed his wand. He studied Harry from where he stood.

Harry raised a hand to cover his eyes, feeling disoriented still with directions after looking upwards so much.

“Why is this so hard?”

“Because you are a child with the mental abilities of an infant, now get back up and try again.” It was obvious that Snape was loosing patience fast, but really, did Harry ask him to do this?

“Get UP, Potter!”

Grumbling to himself, Harry got to his feet and looked at Snape, but the man’s wand was not out as expected.

“Potter, if I were to tell you to touch the ceiling, right now as you are, you would be able to stay put and not even try, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said tentatively.

“Touch the ceiling.”

Harry looked at him a little puzzled, but did not attempt to do so. There was no reason to and nothing was compelling him.

“Hop,” Snape commanded but Harry stayed still. Snape pulled out his wand and Harry steeled himself for what he knew was to follow. “Resist,” Snape hissed as he waved the wand and jabbed it towards Harry.

Quite of its own accord, Harry’s body began walking to the wall, and then trying to walk UP it.

“Resist, Potter,” Snape hissed again, and Harry tried to. It wasn’t as if Harry actually wanted to bounce himself off a wall for an afternoon. Snape let it go on for several more minutes, watching Harry’s futile attempts and alternating between encouragement and encroachment before finally allowing Harry a reprieve.

“As amusing as this has been, I grow tired of it. We’re done for today.”

Snape pocketed his wand, but instead of striding from the room as he usually did after a lesson, he instead stayed. “Come over here,” he said lowly, and Harry, afraid of yet another exercise, walked towards him, dragging his feet.

Snape pulled his chair closer and sat down, then in a surprising move reached out to pull Harry closer to himself until they were almost face to face. “How do you feel?”

Harry blinked. How did he feel? Just awful, and frustrated, that’s how he felt.

“I see,” Snape said and Harry suddenly realized that Snape was reading his eyes again. He looked away. “Tea, then. Come into the kitchen and sit down.”

Harry slowly followed Snape into the kitchen. At Snape’s insistence, he pulled out a chair, and climbed up onto it. Snape placed a teacup with hot tea in front of Harry much faster than he should have been able to, and Harry looked up to see if Snape had given away that he had used magic somehow. Snape just raised his eyebrow and poured himself a small cup on the table. He took a sip and spoke, “It may seem very difficult now, perhaps impossible, but one day you will get it, Potter. For now, you must keep trying and not give up.”

Harry looked into his own teacup below the table’s edge. Imagine, Snape was actually trying to console him, or perhaps he actually saw just how amazingly frustrated Harry was at all of this.

Snape put down his teacup and pulled out the familiar red bottle from a pocket. He reached out across the table for Harry’s arm, but wary Harry did not offer it. He looked at Snape with large eyes, waiting to see what he’d ask before he got his hopes up. He remembered the last question Snape asked him…

Snape smirked before schooling his features. “Do you believe me? That one day you will be able to clear your mind and resist that spell?”

Harry looked away uncomfortably. It didn’t seem now that he’d ever be able to, but he had to. He would. “Yes.” He sat up, bringing his legs up onto the chair’s stool so that he’d be tall enough and extended his right arm above the table.

Snape just dabbed some oil onto his long fingers, and then onto the scar.

“Good.”

---------

It was time for tucking in, and Harry was in his bed and ready, Roofy, his plushy dragon, under one arm and the covers.

Hoppity smothered the blankets before sitting right next to him. “Okay Harry-bean, remember how I told you this morning at breakfast that the woman I work with gave me some books to read to you? Let’s read one tonight so that I can tell her tomorrow that I did. Is that alright?”

“Okay,” Harry replied quietly. He remembered how she brought them in and showed him at the kitchen table, and how Snape had been there and barely hid a snort at them. But it didn’t matter what Snape thought and Harry thought that he had been at least a little interested in them.

“Alright then,” Hoppity murmured as she picked up a book from next to Harry’s bed and opened it, “This one’s called The Velveteen Rabbit, have you read it before?”

“No.” Harry studied her face and light red hair, ready to listen to her story. He snuggled down into his covers as Hoppity turned to the first page and began to read…

It was a wonderful story, starting with a stuffed rabbit given to a little boy, who did not find him interesting at first, but once he did, they were inseparable. They went everywhere together; burrowed holes in the garden, played outside had so much fun! The rabbit became the boy's favourite thing in the world and the boy loved him.

But then the boy became very, very sick. When he finally got well again, the Doctor told the parents to take the boy to the ocean for fresh air and to burn everything he had touched while he was sick so that he didn't get sick again. And so the boy was taken away and all the toys were gathered up together in sacks outside to be burned the next day.

That night, the Velveteen rabbit saw real rabbits in the garden wiggling their noses and eating the vegetables. He didn't want to be burned and he missed his boy badly that he sped a real tear. A fairy came and granted him his first wish, turning him into a real rabbit. The rabbit jumped out of the bag and was free.

“The end,” Hoppity said as she showed him the last picture to an enthralled Harry. She shut the book and replaced it onto the floor.

"I didn't like that ending," Harry said quietly.

"Why, Harry-bean?"

"Because they wanted to burn the rabbit when the boy got sick. And then when he turned into a real rabbit he couldn't be with his boy who he loved anymore."

“You’re so precious, Harry,” Hoppity said as she patted his head. “But he did see his boy once in awhile, and they were both happy in the end. The boy outgrew his rabbit and didn’t need him anymore, and the rabbit had a full and happy life with his boy before he got his greatest wish.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Harry said as he shut his eyes and held his Roofy closer.

Hoppity smoothed the blankets over him but did not get up to leave. “Just so you know, Harry, we got a letter saying that some people were going to visit us tomorrow after school.” Harry looked at her a little fearful, remembering the nurse’s warning when she had noticed his bruising during the physical exam. “It’s nothing to worry about at all,” she consoled him, “We’d never let them take you away from us and we’ve come up with a plan, and a secondary plan, and even a third plan if we need it. They’re just Muggles and they can’t stand a chance against us. I believe that Snape’s down in the basement working on something now, even. So don’t you worry even a bit.” She patted Harry’s head and got up to leave, stopping to shut the light off next to the open door.

“Good night, Harry.” And with that, Harry was left alone to ponder tomorrow and his fate.

---------

It was Thursday afternoon, the time the dreaded Social Workers' visit. Even though Hoppity had told him not to worry, Harry still worried. There was an apprehensive sick feeling in his stomach. All day at school he had worried. What if the Social Workers decided that he should be taken away? What if they managed to do it, or if Snape let them, or if he even wanted them to? And even so, Harry worried about what Snape might do to the Social Workers themselves. Hoppity had said that man was working on something last night…

“All ready, Harry-bean?” Hoppity asked as they all prepared in the kitchen. She had tried to do something with her large frizzy hair, but like his was it looked worse for the trying.

“Yeah,” Harry barely muttered.

“Remember the plan, and follow it,” Snape instructed from where he was mixing something next to the tea pot. “Smirkett, if you forget something let me proceed. I’d rather not have to blunder through something worse than the back story we came up with,” he said sourly. “First and foremost make it seem as natural as possible.” She nodded and Snape set out cups. “And Potter, don’t say anything at all unless they ask you a direct question.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, remember all the times he’d been instructed to do that. He should be good at that for all the practice, he thought sourly.

“Harry, don’t forget to call him Harry,” Hoppity said slightly nervously.

“Don’t be dim witted, of course I’ll call him Harry.”

The doorbell rang and Hoppity dropped the box of biscuits she was placing on a tray. Her eyes were large behind her circular glasses. “It’s them, they’re here!”

“Well, go on and answer it, then,” Snape said peevishly as she just stood there. “Don’t forget to smile,” he bit out and then she was gone. Harry looked up and watched as Snape lifted up the bowl in preparation to pour the contents into the pot of hot water. He stopped however, once he realized Harry was watching him. Snape set the bowl down and picked up a chocolate biscuit off of the tray, leaning over and pressing it into Harry’s hands.

“Go with her, Potter, hurry up, and make sure they see you eating that biscuit.”

Confused, and quite worried, Harry nodded and ran after Hoppity. Why did the biscuit matter? Maybe Snape just wanted him out of his hair. He came upon Hoppity at the door greeting their visitors and he shoved the chocolate biscuit into his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to say anything when they saw him and said hello. He stood as close to Hoppity as he could, and upon noticing him, Hoppity pulled him closer with one arm.

“Oh hi, Harry! What have you got there? Did your Daddy give you a biscuit?” Hoppity asked cheerfully. The Social workers, two ladies, were looking at him expectantly, as if sizing him up. Mortified, and mouth full of cookie, Harry turned his head to hide behind Hoppity.

“He’s rather shy,” Hoppity said knowingly, “But we’ve signed him up for football so hopefully he’ll make lots of new friends.” She took a couple of steps back, moving Harry along with her, “Well, come on in to our parlor and make yourselves comfortable.” She beckoned as she maneuvered Harry and herself out of the way so that their guests could pass.

The two women settled themselves on the couch and Hoppity sat next to them, smiling. Harry just stood next to Hoppity’s side, very unsure about the whole thing.

“It’s a very nice home,” the younger social worker said. She had light blond hair tied back into a bun and looked like she was in her mid 20’s.

The other one was older and looked gnarled around the edges. “We won’t take much of your time, we just need to ask you some questions and access the situation,” she said strongly.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Beany, we appreciate it.”

Just then, Snape came into the room, holding a tea tray and wearing a frilly, flower patterned apron.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked pleasantly.

Harry choked on the biscuit crumbs still in his mouth at the sight. Hoppity was at his side in a moment, seemingly try to help him not choke to death, and then the tray was quickly placed on the coffee table and there was Snape, the frilly apron making Harry’s position worse as he squawked again and inhaled more biscuit. But then, the apron was off and being pressed into Harry’s face, letting him cough up the particles and spit from his mouth. When it was mostly out and Harry had stopped coughing up stuff, Hoppity dabbed at his mouth with one corner.

“Are you okay, Harry?” she asked worriedly. He nodded and watched as Snape poured tea into a cup and then sat in the leftover chair. He coughed some more, his lungs still feeling itchy and fearing another coughing fit. Snape reached out and pulled Harry towards himself so that Harry was firmly in his grasp and patted his back a little, perhaps to help him breathe? Harry didn’t know, but it was weird. Dudley used to do that when he was coughing only Dudley used to smack him so hard he’d almost fall over, and his best mate and his brothers at school used to do it in a strong, friendly sort of way, but Snape seemed to do it gentler, like pats. It was probably just for show.

"Would you like some tea and biscuits?" Hoppity asked the social workers as she started to pour tea into the other cups and place them on the low table before them at their nods and “Yes, thank you”s.

Snape picked up his cup and held it up to Harry’s mouth. "Take a sip Harry," Snape said gently. Harry didn't want to, he didn’t exactly trust whatever Snape had put in the tea but Snape didn't let up as he held the cup to his lips. The social workers were watching him intently, their untouched cups in their hands. They seemed to be worried about him, making sure that he was alright before sipping their own tea. He had no choice unless he wanted to cause a scene and he didn’t want to do that, when a bad visit could mean that he would be taken away.

He reached up to steady the cup and opened his mouth. Snape didn't relinquish his hold on the cup as Harry took a sip. It tasted really good, and Harry tipped it back to take another swallow. It soothed his throat a little and made the itch go away. He couldn't identify what kind it was, but he noticed a strange lingering taste... something he faintly remembered... what was it? He felt himself relaxing as he tried to pull the cup back for another sip, but Snape pulled it away from him and set it on the table out of Harry's reach.

Harry tried to reach out for it anyway, but was bodily pulled back against Snape, and then picked up and settled on his lap. "Shh…" Snape said gently as he wrapped his arms around the boy.

At first, Harry wanted to struggle and get away, this was his greasy mean potions professor, but the man wasn't hurting him, only gently restraining him, and there really was no reason to try to get away. It felt kind of nice being held like this. Harry decided to try sit tight and enjoy it. He was unlikely to ever experience something like this ever again in his life. When he took the antidote to the deaging potion, he would be too big to be held at all... except maybe by his nice giant friend...

Hoppity sat next to them, and slightly sipped her tea. The Social Workers, now at ease since Harry was no longer in danger of choking to death and their hosts seemed to enjoy the drink, tried their own cups.

"This is really good!" The younger woman said, pleasantly surprised.

"Of course." Snape's voice drawled nicely. "We prepared it special for you."

After several long sips, the younger woman drained her cup and then reached out to try a biscuit. The older social worker, Mrs. Beany, Harry had heard Hoppity call her, set down her cup reluctantly and turned to address them, going straight to business. "I'm sure you know why we are here. There was a report filed for possible abuse and neglect and we are here to examine the situation."

"I can assure you that there is no situation,” Snape said from behind Harry. For some reason, he was feeling less scared than he had before. “I have never laid a hand on this boy. Your information must have been faulty." Harry was suddenly lifted up and placed back on the floor to stand next to Hoppity. Snape continued in a lighter tone, "You may inspect him if you wish." He pushed Harry out towards to nearest Social worker and Harry turned to glare at him. Snape just looked at him and quirked an eyebrow up, otherwise ignoring him as he redirected his attention to their guests.

Harry turned around to look at the social workers, anxious that they actually were going to inspect him. He was relieved to see that the social workers seemed to think that Snape was joking as they smiled amusedly at him, making no move to poke and prod at him and generally be unpleasant.

"That won't be necessary," Mrs. Beany said as she pulled out a pair of reading glasses and put them on and Harry felt quite relieved. He looked back at Snape to see if he was going to pick him up again, but he didn’t seem like he was going to.

Hoppity cleared her throat. “Also, I’m not sure you’re aware, but we’re not American citizens, we’re only here for the summer. I’m not sure that you have the authority to do anything.”

“Oh, we do,” Mrs. Beany said almost warningly. Hoppity quieted and Harry shuffled a bit, worriedly.

The other social worker spoke up as she poured herself some more tea, "We just need to spend some time with you, ask some questions and see his living conditions."

Mrs. Beany turned to Snape, a notebook out and a pen ready, "So what exactly his relationship to you?"

Snape folded his hands, “He is my adopted son.”

“Do you have the paperwork for that?”

“Regrettably not,” Snape said. “His acquisition is quite a complicated and long story and it was not through any official means of government.”

“We’d like to hear that story if you don’t mind,” Mrs. Beany stated, peering at them through her reading glasses. Harry would have liked to hear it as well, just where was Snape going to say he got him? Perhaps he was left on Snape’s doorstep as a baby? Or rescued from an orphanage?

“If you must,” Snape agreed pleasantly. “You see, my family owns a Village in North Shotsshire, England. I spent most of my life traveling to different lands on scholarly pursuits, perhaps all of my childhood with my father and most of my adulthood. When my father died, I received the Manor located in the village as my inheritance, but I did not reside there. My sister did.”

Snape looked very seriously at his captive audience. “I have no idea how she came into acquisition of Harry, but needless to say she did. I was away at the time, on a very long journey in the South Seas… I had not seen her for years when I received post that she was ill, perhaps seriously. Unfortunately, it was at a very trying time and I was unable to pardon my duties and visit her right away. When I was finally able to see her, she was on her deathbed and the boy had already been sent away for some time while she tried to recover. Her dying wish was that I take care of the boy as my own. I was not able to retrieve him right away though, as I still had unsettled business and he was supposed to be safe with some distant relatives. It was at least a month before I was finally able to retrieve him and take him home.

“I still do not know if he is her own or someone else’s, but it does not matter. I checked, of course, to see if Harry was a missing or lost child from a grieved family, but nothing was discovered. He is mine now. There was some custody paperwork filed in with the will of course, but it was left at the manor, so I regrettably cannot possibly show it to you.”

The two social workers seemed to have been silenced.

“That is quite a story,” the younger one ventured out, clearing her throat a little.

“We will, of course, have to check with your government to be sure, and check their copies of the paperwork…” the older one said, apparently a little flustered by the theatric tale.

“Of course,” Snape said. He noticed Harry resuming his interest in the tea, and he quickly removed the cup “No, Harry. Too much is not good for children.” He picked up a biscuit and prodded Harry to take it instead.

“And where do you come in?” the younger woman asked Hoppity, clearly interested.

Hoppity swallowed. “Oh… I was in the village that Harry ended up in, the village with the Mountaineers, and I just fell so in love with the sweet little boy through all the troubles that I just could bare to be parted from him.”

“The-Wait, troubles? …Mountaineers?”

Snape coughed a little.

“Here dear, have some more tea, it will clear your throat,” Hoppity said sweetly as she launched into a careful explanation. “Yes, you see, the first distant relatives Harry ended up with did not take good care of him. Well, they couldn’t, what with all the famine and all!

“Oh yes,” Hoppity mused, a remembering look in her eyes from behind her spectacles. “It was in a remote village in the mountains that Harry was first sent to, I believe it was your great grand aunt? Was that it, dear?” Hoppity asked Snape who had tea in his mouth and could only get off a nod before she continued, “It was a particularly hard winter and pass was cut off with heavy snow and ice… There just wasn’t enough food to go around, the poor woman had eight children of her own- erm, I mean, she had eight children in her household, for some reason were living with her because all of her other relatives died…”

“Yes,” Snape butted in. “Strange circumstances to be sure, but Harry would never have been sent to her if there had been anyone else close enough. As it was she could not take care of them all at that time so she sent Harry and half of them away to live with some other relatives who were not in such quite dire circumstances.”

Hoppity continued, “And with the rebellion going on, and all trade practically stopped-”

“Rebellion?” the blond woman asked flabbergasted.

“Oh. Did I say famine in the beginning? I meant both.”

“No, she meant famine,” Snape said, almost glaring at her.

“Well there was a small rebellion actually,” Hoppity tried to defend her earlier statement, “Hardly worth mentioning except that it was such a small and remote area, and of course a rebellion of only two people would have far reaching consequences-”

“Never the less, there was a famine, and that was what affected Harry the most,” Snape stated as he reached out and picked Harry up again and held him close when he noticed that Harry was reaching for the tea again. Harry tested the arms holding him so see if they’d let him out easily, but they stayed quite put so he sat back with a pout.

“Yes, quite,” Hoppity agreed, tearing her eyes away from watching Harry and Snape to focus on the social workers once again. “What saved them were the goats.” The two women had very interested expressions on their faces so Hoppity quickly started to explain, “They were all starving when some goats came out of the mountains, the goats kept the people afloat until help came. They called it the goat famine because all that was left to eat at the end of it were the mountain goats, and eating mountain goats isn’t the best thing, so they stayed alive by drinking their milk…” Noticing Mrs. Beany writing some of this down, Hoppity was quick to add, “But don’t bother trying to look it up, it was a rather remote and unknown area and the events and such are really only known by the locals…”

Harry listened to the story with wide eyes. It figured that Wizards would come up with a story like that and actually get away with it. He looked up to check Snape’s expression, he looked a little pained.

Hoppity was quite lost in her little tale, “When I arrived with the Mountaineers for relief supplies the poor lad was half starved. And when I realized that he didn’t really have anyone looking after him, I spent time with him and made sure that he was alright. I got to know him, and after that I just couldn’t bare to be parted with him.

“When Severus here came for his boy, well at first we were all a bit wary, I wanted to make sure that Harry would be alright, and happy and would be taken good care of, but the two of them soon warmed up to each other, and I knew that it would be a good thing for him.” She lowered her voice, “The family Harry had been staying with didn’t really care for him; it wasn’t until afterwards that we discovered just how badly they had been treating him.”

“Like?” the older woman asked, her notepad and pen still out and ready.

“It was hard times,” Snape cut in. “The lack of supplies made them grudging of feeding him and the father had a heavy hand. And while I can forgive them for what they did to Harry because he is here with me now and flourishing, I can never forget.”

"So you two are married now?" the young, blond one asked carefully.

Hoppity and Snape looked at each other before wordlessly reaching their hands out to each other, showing off their rings. Harry was a little smushed as Snape leaned forward to have both arms reach. Put me down! Harry thought strongly, but the pressure soon abated.

“We’re so happy now,” Snape said, lying through his teeth.

“Oh yes, we’re great friends,” Hoppity said. “We’re still waiting for the papers for joint custody to go through though for Harry.”

The blond one looked enraptured. “So how’d it happen? How’d you fall in love?”

The two looked at each other. “…I have no idea.” Snape admitted truthfully. “It happened so suddenly. One moment we were complete strangers, and the next, a family.”

“Oh yes, Harry is the sole reason of our intertwining lives.”

“That reminds me of one of those Emma romance tales,” the young woman gushed.

“Oh yes, it was quite fantastical,” Snape said as he looked at his partner, disturbed.

Hoppity just reddened and took a sip of tea.

Mrs. Beany looked down at her notepad. "We just have a few issues to clear up. It says here that he seemed undernourished and small for his age."

Snape seemed to have expected that. "Yes, well, as we said earlier, he was staying with some relatives who did not give him the best of care." That was actually true, Harry thought. "We've tried to rectify that, but he recently seems to have started on a stubborn stage and refuses to eat some things." Not true, Harry thought, annoyed at Snape and the social workers as they now talked about the real him as if he wasn't there. “And obviously, little boys do not grow on sweets themselves, as much as they may want to,” Snape patted Harry’s head in what he obviously thought was a fond manner and gave a smile at the social workers. Harry was afraid to look. He hoped that this visit ended soon, and okay. It seemed to be okay so far…

"And... it is noted here that there was some severe bruising." The same social worker prompted. Harry swallowed, wondering what his guardians would say about that.

This time it was Hoppity who spoke up uncomfortably, "There was an incident at the park a couple of weeks ago back in England… some man grabbed him and wouldn’t let go… we would have filed a report but erm- the man seemed to have disappeared right before my eyes and then I wasn’t sure if it had actually happened at all…”

Mrs. Beany had a polite look on her face as she made a note on her notepad. Harry couldn’t tell what that meant, the other worker was unreadable over it, just looking at them all intently as she had the entire visit.

Hoppity continued. "I'm afraid he's also had some trouble with bullies. Some bigger boys at school like to pick on him and one swung a heavy bag at Harry. It left quite a mark on his back. I've tried to bring it to the attention of his teacher at school, but the last one just had a heart attack and the new one is still trying to get settled in."

A heart attack? Harry thought that that part was true, it certainly made sense why the old teacher hadn’t been in for days and no one would tell them anything besides the fact that she would be away for awhile and be good for their new teacher. Everyone at school had thought that the old bat had died.

The social workers had pitying looks on their faces. They seemed to buy the story as they had everything only this part was actually true. Harry was embarrassed that Hoppity was telling them that he had trouble with bullies. He didn't want anyone to know, he wanted to deal with it himself. It was awful having these strangers told that children his age were beating him up.

"Yes," Hoppity continued. "I've heard that the class has always been a bit out of control, but now with the new teacher I just don't know what to do."

"Well, I suppose that it will resolve itself. They will outgrow it soon enough," Snape said.

“Wow, it seems as if everything happens to you guys,” the blond woman said.

“Yes, quite.” Snape agreed. “Now if you do not have any further questions, would you like to see the boy's room?"

"Yes, please." Mrs. Beany said as she capped her pen and stood up. The other woman followed her example.

Snape shifted Harry in his arms, and Harry was startled when the man actually stood up with him in his arms. Snape invited these strangers into Harry's private room and now it looked as if he was going to carry him all the way to his room too! Harry felt so irritated and upset at being maneuvered around without being asked. He wanted to kick the man carrying him, but aborted the idea since Snape would probably just drop him painfully to the floor in retaliation or the social ladies would notice they didn’t like each other and take him away.

At least he kept all his dirty clothes and pants in a plastic bag in the bathroom and not on the floor as he usually did in the red tower.

He looked back over Snape's shoulder at the social workers as they followed them up the stairs and caught Mrs. Beany looking at him. He should pretend to be comfortable in Snape's arms. He remembered how he once saw little Benny sucking on two fingers when he was tired and in his mum’s arms, and Harry did the same, laying his head on Snape's shoulder as he gazed back at the social workers in what he hoped was a cute and trusting manner.

The blond one looked up and smiled at him so he guessed it worked.

They entered Harry’s room and Snape deposited Harry on the bed before turning to address the intruders. "As you can see, the boy has adequate living conditions."

Mrs. Beany looked around at the bare walls and poked through Harry's belongings and Harry scowled. "It doesn't look like he has many things," she noted.

"As you should already be aware of, we have recently moved here from England and plan to return soon. Extra baggage would have been quite cumbersome. And to be fair, you did not see his second playroom." Snape held his arm as if to offer to show it to them and Mrs. Beany followed him out to peek into the room just next door.

As if to be friendly, the blond social worker turned to Harry, "Do you remember what it was like living with your relatives? During the um... goat rebellion?"

Harry was caught off guard but tried to say something that she would accept. "I don't really remember... but I do remember lots of, erm snow. Yes, and bleehing. Like this, blleeehhh,” Harry went, trying to imitate a goat." It made her smile.

“Are you happy here?”

Harry nodded, “Yes ma’am, it’s great. I have fun nearly every day.”

“That’s good,” she said as Mrs. Beany and Snape returned.

"All right, one last thing,” Mrs. Beany was saying. “We need you to sign these papers verifying that you are his guardian. It is only you, and not your wife, correct?"

“Correct,” Snape said slowly, eyeing the papers Mrs. Beany was pulling out from her notebook. They watched as she set them on the shelf on Harry’s room and placed her pen on top of them, afterwards looking at Snape expectantly. So cornered, Snape picked up the pen, quickly filled them out and signed them with what Harry knew was his familiar sprawl. It looked like Harry was safe, and wasn’t going to be carted away to an orphanage or police cell after all! A feeling of relief that was much larger than Harry had expected replaced the worry and anxiousness that he had had earlier.

“Now, if we discover that the papers you claim exist don’t, you’ll be hearing from us,” she told them warningly. The worry crept back in, like a punch to his gut.

“I don’t expect that you will be,” Snape said pleasantly. He led them back downstairs and out through the front door, Harry trailed them, watching them go.

“Thank you for having us,” Mrs. Beany said as she shook Snape’s hand, and then they were gone, the door shutting behind them.

Snape strode to the kitchen with forceful steps. Harry scrambled off of the lower stairs and followed him into the kitchen where Hoppity was putting away the leftover biscuits.

“What happened to not muddling it up?” Snape demanded. “A great grand aunt with eight children? Mountaineers? GOAT rebellions?”

“Well… they seemed to go for it anyway,” Hoppity said carefully. “I think it’ll be alright.” She fastened closed a box.

“They are going to look for those documents and anything about a GOAT rebellion now, and then when they can’t find anything they’ll come back,” Snape enunciated with clear, stressed syllables.

“They’re coming back?” Harry asked worriedly from where he was standing.

“They probably won’t,” Hoppity said, trying to console him. “When an enquiry goes through those nice agent people will probably take care of it, or Albus will, or the documents might actually exist, you never know.”

Snape had started to pace. “We’ll just have to Confound them the next time they come back,” he muttered, “Forge their handwriting on some papers so when they wonder what happened they can just read…”

Harry turned to Hoppity, “But how will the Agents know what to write when they go looking for the papers?” She was silent as she thought, putting the biscuit boxes back up on the shelves and the fact that she couldn’t come up with an answer readily was enough answer for Harry. “They’re going to come back and take me away and lock me up!” he cried, quite distressed.

“Have more tea,” Snape said as he pushed a newly filled cup of tea towards him. “Go on, drink it all up.”

“Snape! He shouldn’t have that,” Hoppity said as she turned sharply to see Harry sipping it down.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s in a drugged haze now, they’ve left. It’ll be better for him since he will be in a better position to hear your platitudes, and therefore not Freak Out when I’m trying to think.”

“But what if he likes it too much? You don’t want him to be addicted...”

“It’ll be fine. He doesn’t know what it is or how to make it, and it’s not addictive,” Snape said lowly as he turned to lean against a counter, clearly thinking.

It was silent for awhile.

“You should have just Obliviated that nurse,” Snape hissed out harshly, suddenly.

“It’ll be okay. If they come back, we’ll just Confound them like you said.”

“And you were the one who didn’t want to start an international magical incident,” Snape said ironically.

Harry was looking at them curiously and Snape walked over to him to look him in the eyes. “Listen, Potter, they are not going to take you away so do not worry about that. They will not be able to take you away.”

“Okay,” Harry said quietly.

“Oi, I think that’s the tea talking,” Hoppity said.

“No it’s not, Potter believes me.”

Hoppity walked over to look Harry in the eyes as well. “Harry, did you know that Snape’s animagus form is a bunny?”

Snape glared at her, but Harry just blinked and furrowed his brows before slowly answering, “No, it is?”

Snape sighed, “You’re right, he’s had too much. Potter, my animagus form is not a ‘bunny’.” Harry just looked at him. “It is not a rabbit or any other small rodent and if I ever heard that malicious rumor at Hogwarts, I will know who’s to blame and you will be peeling rabbits for weeks.”

“Alright,” Harry said. “You’re not a rabbit.”

Hoppity was stifling her giggles.

Snape frowned but took out his wand and waved a light sleeping spell over the boy. Harry was almost instantly asleep. “I’ll put him on the couch, better he sleep for awhile rather than hear any number of things and believe them. It’s a short draft; it should wear off in ten minutes and he should wake up in time for a late supper. Speaking of which, rabbit does sound good… certainly better than goats,” he said pointedly at Hoppity as he scooped the little boy up and left the room.