Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter Eighteen

"Don’t go out of my sight," Snape ordered automatically as he settled back on the bench.

"We know," Harry said, rolling his eyes at Neville, who covered his mouth and giggled.

"I saw that." Snape shot Harry a narrow eyed glare and the boy immediately straightened his face.

"Sorry, daddy," he said, not at all chastened.

"Go play and leave me to my peace."

Harry nudged Neville, then snatched up his broom and rushed down to the green swathe of grass beneath the giant Quidditch hoops.

"Come on, Neville!" he called excitedly. "I’ll race you to the other side!"

Neville gave Snape a half rueful shrug then wheeled his bike towards Harry.

"Why do we always have to race?" he grumbled.

Harry looked nonplussed. He paused in mounting his broom and flicked a lock of black hair from his eyes.

"How will we know who’s the winner, if we don’t race?"

Neville just shrugged again and climbed aboard his bike. It was rather a fine one, with shiny blue paint and flecks of silver that caught the sunlight as it moved, and big wide wheels with a solid sturdy tread. Neville settled himself on the padded seat and sedately rang his bell.

"I wish I had a bell," Harry said enviously. "I’m going to ask Santa for one at Christmas."

Neville steadied himself on his two wheeler and began to pedal, gaining speed quite quickly on the smooth green turf.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed indignantly, straddling his broom. "No fair!"

"You’re the one who wanted to race," Neville called over his shoulder, little legs pumping.

Harry leaned forward and the broom quivered at his command, rising to lift his feet from the ground and shooting forward. It took him until halfway across the field before he caught up with Neville and they were neck and neck by the other side.

Neville was panting by the time they reached the stands, but Harry had his arms raised and was cheering.

"I win!"

"My legs are going to fall off," Neville puffed, clambering off the bike and dropping to the grass.

"Don’t quit now, Neville," Harry said, circling his broom and swooping over Neville’s head for the sheer joy of it.

"It’s all right for you," Neville accused. "You don’t have to pedal your broom." He shaded his eyes and looked back to where Harry’s father was sitting in the stands, absorbed in his papers. "I wonder if Mr Snape could make a spell so my pedals go by themselves?"

Harry was still looping, trying to go higher but without much success. Unlike Bill and Charlie’s broom this one was charmed to fly slow and low, as his dad put it.

"Like a baby," Harry muttered under his breath. He circled Neville again and then skimmed the edge of the stand, taking one hand off the broomstick and running it along the smooth old wood. He reached a gap and flew through it, looping another small circle as he contemplated the new scenery on this side of the pitch. It was rugged and wild, stands of wind blown old trees squatting on the hilly inclines.

"Harry! Mr Snape said don’t leave his sight!" Neville called out.

"He can still see me!" Harry called, knowing he was skating on thin ice. Any minute now his dad would look up and bellow for him. But for now Harry was too interested in this new landscape and the low flying birds swooping over and through the stubby trees. He was following the flight of one in fascination, wondering what it would be like to dip and soar like that on his own broom, when his eye fixed upon a bushy patch and he frowned.

Two yellow eyes stared back at him. Harry blinked as a huge head and a looming shaggy body swam into focus behind the eyes. With a lithe bunch of muscles the massive creature came lolloping towards him, eyes gleaming, jaws opening. Harry didn’t even have time to scream before it leapt.

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At the sound of Neville’s high-pitched scream Snape jumped to his feet, already parent enough to recognise the difference between a playful shriek and a cry of real terror. Neville was on the ground on the other side of the pitch, pointing at the wide open doorway and screaming shrilly.

Snape dropped his papers and leapt the barricade, long legs eating up the turf, eyes desperately scanning beyond Neville out into the hills beyond.

"Harry!" he bellowed.

Neville scrambled backwards and ran towards him, mouth still wide open, eyes wild with terror. Snape met him and caught him in mid-leap, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him roughly, eyes still over his shoulder.

"Stop screaming!" he yelled and Neville broke for breath, shaking under Snape’s hands. "Where’s Harry?"

"D-d-dog!" Neville panted, chest heaving. "B-b-big dog! It jumped up! It took him!"

Terrified thoughts screamed through his mind but Snape didn’t have a moment to give in to them. He pushed the boy behind him, drawing his wand from his pocket in the same movement.

"Run back to the castle," he ordered, already loping away. "Get help!"

Beyond the opening the wide world beckoned, rugged landscape running over rocky ground, birds swooping and calling against the cloudy afternoon sky.

Harry’s broom lay discarded on the ground.

But of Harry himself there was no sign.

888

Harry woke with a fright and sat up, instantly aware that he wasn’t in his bed. There was dust everywhere for one thing, and cobwebs, long ropy strands that swayed gently in a breeze that was wheedling its way through the wide cracks in the wall.

Tears sprang to Harry’s eyes as he looked wildly around the room, eyes trying to adjust to the gloom lit only by the weak sunlight that intruded through the cracks and illuminated the motes of dust that swirled in the breeze.

"Don't be frightened," a hoarse voice said and Harry jumped, cringing back against a ragged old cushion. More dust rose up and he coughed and choked on it, eyes watering as he peered into the gloom.

"Really," the voice said again. A man stepped forward and Harry trembled in fear. "I won’t hurt you," the man said, stretching out one hand. It looked more like a claw to Harry, thin with long dirty nails. The man himself was filthy all over, long hair matted, beard dusty and covered with cobwebs like the room around them.

Harry cringed back. "Where’s my daddy?"

The man winced, dropping his hand.

"I don’t know," he said lowly. Harry peered at him, breath hitching in frightened gasps in his chest. Even through his fear he could hear that the man’s voice didn’t match his face. It was soft and husky.

"What is this place?" Harry beseeched.

The man looked around, almost as if seeing it for the first time himself.

"A safe place," he murmured. "At least for now. I’ve smelled old Moony around and it won’t take him long to figure out who’s taken you and where."

Harry sniffed miserably. He didn’t understand any of this.

"Please let me go home," he whispered. "My dad will be awfully worried about me."

The man shook his head and Harry bit his lip to stop his mouth from quivering. He was so afraid he wanted to scream and cry like a baby. He was so afraid it was making him angry.

"My dad’s a wizard!" he yelled and the man jumped. "He’s gonna be so mad he’ll put a bad spell on you! So you better take me home!"

The man surveyed him for a moment in shocked surprise and then to Harry’s amazement he threw back his head and laughed.

"Now I know I’m not going crazy!" he exclaimed, yellowing teeth flashing as he grinned at a stunned Harry. "No matter what Fudge’s newspaper said, you’re James’s boy and no mistake!"

Blinking in surprise behind his round glasses Harry studied the difference laughter made to the man’s creepy face. He looked a lot less scary with his eyes lit up like that.

"Who are you?" Harry said, feeling the trembling in his limbs subside a little. "How did I get here?"

"Don’t you know?" The man grinned again and in an instant, like water flowing, he turned into a dog before Harry’s eyes, huge and hairy, long pink tongue protruding as he panted harshly. A moment later he had flowed back into a man and Harry exclaimed in amazement at the swiftness of the transformation.

"Are you a werewolf?" Harry breathed.

The man laughed again and sat on the edge of the bed. "Good guess, Harry. But a werewolf only comes out under a full moon."

"What are you then?" wondered Harry. Another thought struck him. "And how do you know my name?"

The man smiled, and it was such a gentle smile that Harry couldn’t help but stare. Why, he looked almost nice now, not so scary and horrible at all.

"I helped pick it out," the man said. "James loved it but Lily said she thought it was a bit ordinary at first. She wanted to name you after James’s, father, Ambrose. Can you imagine? Ambrose Potter!"

"You knew my mum?" Harry asked. "And my other dad?"

The man’s eyes flashed for a moment, and he lowered his head, looking down at his filthy cracked nails. "Your other dad," he murmured. "Yes, I knew Lily and James. And Remus too, I know you know him, I can smell him on you."

Harry wrinkled his brow and thought. "You mean Mr Lupin?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr Lupin. We were all friends, back before you were born. I knew you as a baby, Harry. I held you in my arms and tickled your toes."

The man’s eyes were soft, and his dirty hand reached out again. Harry was still frowning but he didn’t cringe away this time when one finger touched his own hand and gently stroked it.

"But if you were my mum’s friend why did you take me away?" Harry said, mouth trembling again. His dad would be looking for him now, and Harry remembered how upset his dad had been that time Harry had been exploring his secret passage and he couldn’t find him. It was even worse this time, because his dad would know Harry was really and truly gone now, carried away by the giant dog. At the thought his eyes filled with tears again and he felt his courage slipping.

"I want my daddy," he said, tears beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes. "Where’s my daddy? I want him!"

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"It was a big dog," Neville said, while Madame Pomfrey wiped his face with a damp flannel. His mouth was turned down and despite her ministrations more tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off his chin. "It jumped up in the air and grabbed Harry’s robe and carried him away." Neville gulped a sob. "I fink it’s gonna eat him," he whispered miserably.

"Nonsense," Pomfrey said bracingly, but the face she turned to Dumbledore was terribly worried. "Whatever could have taken him, headmaster?"

Flitwick pounded into the infirmary, skidding a little on the smooth stones "The students are locked in the Great Hall," he squeaked, hand on his side as he caught his breath. "And all the staff are out in the grounds searching." Flitwick shook his head dismally. "Poor young Snape is beside himself."

"Of course he is," Pomfrey exclaimed. "Where is he searching?"

"With Hagrid. Fang’s trying to get the dog’s scent apparently, but they’ve reached the Standing Stones and have lost track."

Dumbledore’s head lifted sharply. "The Standing Stones? The tracks led back to the castle? Not into the Forbidden Forest?"

"Unless Fang's nose has let him down," Flitwick confirmed. "But the poor creature’s in a terrible state now. It seems very confused." Flitwick turned his small serious gaze on the headmaster. "That’s what makes me think," he squeaked. "That this is some magical creature, headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded once. "I agree. Where is Lupin, do you know?"

"I think he’s searching the forest with Sinistra and Fenech. Do you want to speak with him?"

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Snape pushed a limp strand of hair out of his eyes as he cast yet another locating spell towards the fringes of the forest. His wand tip glowed as sparks shot out, illuminating the dark tangled trees, shooting through the undergrowth, sending roosting birds rocketing from their nest and burrowing animals fleeing to safety. His arm ached with the power coursing through it, his vision was starting to split as the expended magic took its toll.

But still he worked.

"C’mon, Fang," Hagrid said, fondling the dog’s huge head roughly. "There’s nuthin’ you can’t track, old son! If you can’t find the beast, then find Harry. You remember Harry, right?"

Fang whined and pushed his muzzle into Hagrid’s big hands, eyes drooping sadly.

Snape tuned them out, his narrowed eyes following the trail of his spells, tracing them far beyond normal sight as the locators whizzed and whirred through the trees. In his mind's eye he soared with his spell, between trees and over fallen branches, searching desperately for some sign of the great beast.

"Harry," he muttered under his breath. "Where are you?"

"It’s no good, Professor," Hagrid said in despair. "It’s a magical beast we’re dealin’ with here, and no mistake. Anything else Fang could track over land or water."

"Go and find the headmaster then," Snape ordered, mind still roaming the forest with his spell. "Tell him to send a message to the centaurs asking them to help. Perhaps they know what this beast is."

And where its lair is, Snape thought to himself, swallowing hard and feeling his concentration slip for a moment. His all-too agile imagination supplied thoughts of his son’s small body, broken and bleeding, dragged to the lair of some loathsome magical beast. For a moment despair weighed him down and he sagged, wand arm dropping, mind black with his thoughts.

Harry, Harry…

"Severus!"

Dumbledore was calling and Snape cast off his despair and turned, something like hope lighting his heart.

"Headmaster! Have you found him?"

"Not yet." The old man reached him, barely panting after his run, although the much younger wizard with him could hardly catch his breath.

Snape sagged again, disappointment bitter. He turned his back on the pair and gathered his thoughts to cast another locator spell.

"Severus, wait," Dumbledore counseled. "I think Remus might be able to help us."

"Me?" Lupin panted in astonishment. "I don’t think there’s anything I can do, headmaster. I wish there was."

Snape turned and pinned Lupin with a deadly stare. "What do you know?" he barked.

"Nothing!" Lupin said defensively, bewildered gaze swinging from Snape to the headmaster.

"You may know more than you think. Fang has lost the trail here, Remus, but a stone’s throw away from the passage to the Shrieking Shack. A place you know all too well."

Lupin cast the listening Hagrid a self-conscious glance and Snape spun towards the Whomping Willow.

"You think the beast might know the tunnel?" he demanded.

"I don’t know what I think," Dumbledore confessed. "But it strikes me that you might, Remus." He turned a piercing glance at the bewildered tutor. "A great black dog takes Harry. Flees, not into the forest but here, towards the Whomping Willow."

Remus’s eyes widened and he shot a glance at the dangerously swaying branches of the huge tree.

"A dog, yes," he repeated weakly. "But I… I thought it must be something from the Forest. It... can't be..."

"Can't be what?" Snape snapped. His wand hand twitched but he kept it firmly by his side for the moment. "Stop blathering, man, and tell us what you know!"

"No," Lupin was shaking his head. "It’s impossible! He’s in prison, he couldn’t be here!"

"Who?" Snape thoughts snapped into place and he frowned incredulously. "Sirius Black?" he breathed, putting it together in his mind. Prison, the Willow, the past crowding in on him.

"Sirius Black!" Hagrid exclaimed. "He’s in Azkaban!"

"And what has he to do with a giant black dog, Remus?" Dumbledore said gently and Lupin swallowed.

"He’s an Animagus," he confessed.

Shock tightened Snape’s chest and he barely heard as Hagrid exclaimed with amazement and Dumbledore murmured in surprise.

"Immobilus!" Snape shouted and his steaming wand flared to life, freezing the branches of the Willow into place.

"Severus, wait!" Lupin called. "It can’t be him, it can’t be!"

Snape ignored him, hurrying to the base of the tree and pressing its bole, old memories showing him the way. The mass murderer Sirius Black had his son. But if he’d wanted Harry dead he’d have killed him on the spot, so there was still hope, there was still hope that Harry was alive.

It was all Snape had and he held onto it.

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Harry pushed his glasses aside and knuckled his eyes with his hands, feeling the fear and distress rising in him again, like an aching pain in his chest.

"Oh, Harry," the man said, and then he was stroking Harry’s hair back from his face, thin hands trembling. "Don’t cry, Harry. I’ll take you back to… to him. I swear I will."

Harry sniffed and peered up at the dirty face, blinking through his tears. He wished he had a hanky, then remembered his dad wasn't around and this filthy man wasn’t likely to object. He wiped his eyes and his running nose on his sleeve.

The man picked up his glasses and proffered them, and Harry took them and sat them back on his nose.

"I never meant to scare you, I really didn’t," the man was saying softly. "But when I saw you flying so happily on your broom, looking so much like James… I just wanted to grab you up and carry you away. I just wanted to protect you."

"My dad protects me," Harry sniffed.

The man looked at him searchingly. "Does he, Harry? Does he really?"

There was a odd, half-wild urgency in the man’s voice. Harry nodded.

"Yes. He’s my very own daddy and he looks after me ever so well."

"And he doesn’t frighten you?" the man probed. "Or make you cry?"

Harry shook his head firmly. "Uh uh." Then he tilted his head. "Well, he did get really mad once, when he couldn’t find me and he was scared." Harry’s eyes widened and he grew very solemn. "He’s going to be ever so scared now."

The man’s eyes searched his. "You love him?" he whispered.

Harry nodded. "And he loves me. I’m his boy," he explained. Then he shrugged, a little shyly. "I was never anyone’s boy before," he confided.

The man’s shoulders slumped. "You were," he murmured. "I wish you could remember when you were our boy, James and Lily’s and mine. How much we loved you."

Harry suddenly felt sorry for the man, even though he was dirty and a bit scary, even though he’d carried Harry away and frightened him. He reached out and patted the man’s shoulder; it was hard and bony beneath the raggedy old robe.

The man looked up at him, his dark eyes wide and shiny. "You’ll probably get tired of hearing this," he said hoarsely. "But you do look a lot like James. Except for your eyes."

"I have my mother’s eyes," Harry put in swiftly, and smiled damply when the man’s eyes lit up.

"Yes, you do," he agreed huskily. "And her kind heart as well." His head tilted and then he jumped to his feet and spun towards the doorway. "I hear them coming, they’ll be here soon." He spun back to Harry. "I have to go now, they’ll be along in a moment and find you."

"Is my dad there?" Harry asked eagerly.

The man nodded. "When he comes," he said. "You tell him I’ll be watching over you, do you understand? That I will be around to make sure you are safe your life long."

"Okay," Harry said, feeling his heart pounding hard in his chest. His dad was coming! This scary time would soon be over and his dad would take him back home and he would be safe.

Like water flowing the man turned back into the giant dog and he stood braced four square for a moment, yellow eyes staring hard at Harry. Then with a lithe bound he was out of the room and away.

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"Daddy! I’m here!" Harry was calling and Snape’s long legs took him up three creaking stairs at a time as he flew to the top of the house, leaping smashed furniture and missing floorboards. His mind hadn’t time to imagine all the horrors he might find in the room ahead, which was just as well because all that was there was Harry, dusty and dirty and wet with tears, climbing off a bed and running towards him.

Snape snatched him up and held his living body close against his own, feeling with stunned gratitude the exhalation of breath in that narrow chest as he embraced him, the shaking sobs that shook the child’s thin frame as his skinny arms locked about his father’s neck.

"Harry, Harry," Snape was muttering, relief buckling his knees and sending him to the floor.

"I’m sorry," Harry was sobbing. "I din’t mean to fly out of your sight. I was just looking!"

"It’s all right," Snape soothed, and it was, everything was all right. Any danger could be faced now that Harry was safe and back in his arms. He pulled back and caught narrow little shoulders, studying the boy through eyes unaccountably misty.

"Are you all right?"

Behind them he heard Dumbledore and Lupin arrive.

"Thank goodness," Lupin was panting and Dumbledore huffed a sigh of relief.

"Indeed!" he agreed heartily.

"I was scared," Harry confessed, wiping at his wet face.

Snape’s hands ran down the thin frame searching for wounds and Harry endured it, still swiping clumsily at his face.

"Are you hurt?"

"Uh uh," Harry said, still hiccupping a sob. "The man didn’t hurt me."

"Man?" Dumbledore said, crossing the room and sitting back on the dusty counterpane with a sigh. "I’m too old for all this running about," he confided, touching Harry’s tousled head with a gentle hand. "What man, Harry?"

"The man who turns into a dog," Harry said, and Lupin exclaimed loudly. Harry turned a shocked look on him. "Mr Lupin, you said a bad word," he said in astonishment.

"What did the man do?" Snape asked, sitting back on his heels, satisfied the boy had no visible wounds.

"Um." Harry thought about it. "He said he was sorry for scaring me," he recalled. "He said he wanted to protect me, but I told him you did that, daddy." Harry plucked at Snape’s collar with long trembling fingers. "Um, he said a lot of things."

"Did he hurt you?" Snape asked, the very words difficult to say.

Harry shook his head, sniffling again and Snape decided he’d had enough. He lifted the boy back into his arms and felt him bury his face in his neck, tears flowing once more.

"Get the child home, Severus," Dumbledore counseled. "I’ll call off the search and let everyone know Harry’s been found, safe and sound."

Snape nodded and turned to the door, meeting Lupin’s shocked gaze squarely.

"I swear, Severus," Lupin said shakily. "If I’d known Sirius was free, I would have-"

"I don’t want to hear it," Snape said, pushing the man aside.

"All the same," Dumbledore said as they trooped down the steps of the creaking old house. "You have a great many questions to answer, Lupin, as do the guards of Azkaban Prison."

888

"There's no doubt it was Sirius Black," Dumbledore said gravely.

Snape absently patted Harry's back and nodded tightly. The boy had been washed and fed and was now fast asleep against his shoulder. He seemed well enough, quiet and clingy, but physically unscathed. He'd seemed more concerned with the fate of his broomstick than with recounting his experiences. In fact it was poor Neville who had dissolved in a flood of tears at seeing his friend alive and uneaten, and had been soundly dosed by Madame and put to bed with her for the night.

By the window Lupin sat on the wide stone ledge, eyes on the dark night outside.

"How did he escape?" Lupin asked tonelessly and Snape scowled.

"How do you think? If the guards had known they were dealing with an Animagus he would never have been given the chance!"

"They've been dealing with an Animagus for nearly five years," Lupin shot back. "If I'd thought it meant he could escape I'd have said something about it then!"

"Would you?" Snape sneered doubtfully. "Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. You always were a moral coward."

"That's enough, Severus," Dumbledore said, quietly but firmly. "Remus has told me his reasons for secrecy and I can certainly understand and forgive them. And of course the truth is he had no reason to believe that Black's skill would aid in his escape."

"How did it?" Lupin asked lowly and the headmaster shrugged.

"The blame lies with the Dementors of Azkaban. It seems Black must have been spending much of his time as a dog and, blind as they are to all but feelings, they believed he was losing his mind."

Remus shivered and rubbed his arms with shaking hands.

"When he escaped they assumed him dead, then failed to report to the Ministry that they could not find his body. There will be a full enquiry, of course."

"Meanwhile Black roams free," Snape muttered.

"But why now?" Lupin appealed. "He's had years to fool the Dementors."

The headmaster nodded gravely. "A good question."

"And why did he come here?"

"Certainly not to harm the boy," Dumbledore said pensively. "He had ample opportunity to do that."

"Black gave Harry a message for me," Snape admitted reluctantly. "He remembered while I was bathing him."

"A message?"

"He told Harry he would watch over him. For Harry's whole life, he said."

There was silence in the room as the three adult wizards looked at one another.

"I don't understand," Lupin said in despair. "What does it mean?"

"It means there's more to the story of Sirius Black than we know," the headmaster said thoughtfully. "Perhaps one day we will find out the rest of it."

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Harry seemed quite happy to sleep in his own bed that night, eyes still half closed he made no protest as his father laid him down and pulled the covers over him.

"All right, Harry?" Snape asked softly and Harry murmured and snuggled into his pillow.

Exhaustion dragged at his weary limbs but for the moment Snape felt unable to draw himself away from his son's bedside. Candlelight hollowed out the thin bones of his face and lit the long sweep of his jet black lashes. Could the child really be as untroubled as he seemed? Surely there would be some reaction beyond a handful of tears?

He hadn't even realised he'd dozed off until the old clock chimed midnight and Snape jerked awake to find Harry laying back against the pillows, staring at him through eyes darkened by the dim candle light.

"Harry?" Snape murmured, a little discomforted by the silent stare. How long had the child been watching him doze?

"Why are you sleeping in the chair, daddy?" Harry's voice was soft and sleepy.

Snape brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "I thought you might have a bad dream," he said honestly. "After your experience today."

Harry turned on his side and nestled his head on the pillow, jade eyes growing thoughtful.

"It was scary," he admitted. "The dog 'specially, cos his eyes were all yellow and he was so big. I 'membered Aunt Marge's dog, Ripper, when it jumped at me and I din't like it!"

"I imagine you didn't," Snape murmured.

"But I was mostly scared that you weren't there. I wouldn't have been afraid if you were there to look after me." Harry scratched at his white pillowcase with one idle fingernail. "I don't like it when I can't find you."

"I felt the same way," Snape confided quietly. The boy was still remarkably calm and it worried him. Perhaps the experience hadn't sunk in fully yet? "But the man, Harry," he probed cautiously. "Didn't he frighten you?"

"At first," Harry conceded. "Mostly cos he was dirty and smelly like the men who slept in the park and Aunt Petunia used to call the police about." The little boy frowned thoughtfully. "And because he was a stranger, I suppose. But he wasn't scary when he started to talk. Not nearly as scary as Uncle Vernon was when he yelled and his face got all red!"

"That sounds pretty scary too."

"It was!" Harry agreed fervently. "Daddy? Who was that man? Why did he steal me away? Was he a gypsy? Cos Aunt Petunia said gypsies come and take bad boys away."

"First of all you are not a bad boy," Snape said firmly. "You're my boy and I wouldn't let you be bad for very long, would I?"

Harry wrinkled his nose and chuckled into his pillow. "Uh uh," he agreed.

"And second of all, what did I tell you about what your aunt had to say?"

"Um, it was all a pack of lies," Harry recalled. "So he wasn't a gypsy?"

"No, he is many things but I'm reasonably sure a gypsy isn't among them. He knew your parents, Harry. The Potters. Long ago."

"He said he did," Harry said pensively. "He looked sad when he talked about them. Like..." Harry groped for a comparison, frowning and thoughtful. "Like I was sad before I had you. Cos I didn't have them any more."

Snape studied Harry's face, wondering at his sensitivity. One day he would have to tell Harry the truth about Sirius Black. His godfather. Traitor to those he'd professed to love. How could a little child hope to understand that? How could anyone? Years ago Snape could remember marveling at Black's betrayal and then shrugging it off, his loathing for the man setting nothing beyond the scope of his infamy.

Yet now... Now he had someone of his own to love, for the first time in his life. And now it was beyond even him, a grown man with more than a passing acquaintance with darkness, to understand how you betrayed that. What temptation, what threat could lead a man to that end?

And what regrets might haunt that mind, driven mad by Azkaban?

Snape shivered and he lifted one hand and covered Harry's nervously twisting fingers with his own.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. He's gone and he isn't coming back. And you're not sad now, are you?"

Harry looked at their joined hands and smiled. "No, daddy."

"Or frightened?"

"No, daddy," Harry repeated. "Cos I know..."

"What do you know, my Harry?" Snape whispered as the little voice trailed away.

Harry's smile was shy and trusting. "That you'll come find me."

"Always."

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"Am I still going to school today?" Harry asked over breakfast the next morning. Pickle hovered at his shoulder, huge round eyes studying the child anxiously as he ate.

Snape was doing his share of studying too. Harry had slept through the rest of the night once he'd dozed off again, and this morning, while still a little less boisterous than usual, seemed fine. "We both are."

The boy nodded and reached for a slice of apple. "Good," he said. "It's painting today and I want to wear my new smock Madame made for me."

The door opened and Neville pattered into the room, followed by Lupin.

"Harry!" he said, flying over to the table. "Are you all right?" Neville's eyes had dark circles beneath them and his lips were quivering as he looked Harry up and down, as if still expecting to see him missing a limb or two.

Harry shrugged. "I'm fine," he said. "It was pretty scary though. Did you see how big that dog was?"

"Sit down for some breakfast, Neville," Snape ordered. He shot a glance at Lupin who still stood in the doorway. "I'm sure you've already eaten, Lupin."

The tutor nodded and took a step into the room. "Can I see you for a moment, Severus?"

"Then he melted or something, or at least that's what it looked like, and he was the big dog!" Harry was saying to Neville around his apple slice.

Neville's eyes were round and he covered his mouth with both hands. "No!" he exclaimed in muffled tones.

Snape stood up and pushed the plate of fruit in front of Neville. "Eat," he ordered. "Harry, don't talk with your mouth full."

"Harry seems all right," Lupin said nervously as Snape accompanied him out the door and onto the landing.

"I'm sure he has deep emotional scars that will haunt him well into adulthood," Snape said blandly.

Lupin looked wretched. "You must believe me, Severus. If I had known Sirius was free, if I had known he posed any threat to Harry, I would have come clean to Dumbledore about the whole business."

"Perhaps you should proffer your resignation as a sign of your contrition?" Snape suggested politely.

"I already did." Lupin shrugged thin shoulders. "He turned me down. He said that now more than ever Harry needs stability." Lupin straightened his shoulders and faced Snape directly. "But I will go if you think that I should. If you think it will be better for Harry."

"How wonderfully melodramatic of you," Snape sneered. "But unnecessarily so. It is the headmaster who employs you, not me. If he's happy to go on paying your wages, it's not for me to say otherwise."

Lupin sagged.

Snape took a step closer and caught amber eyes again, noting with satisfaction how they widened with just a trace of fear as they met his. "But mark me, werewolf," Snape breathed. "Old loyalties are dead. Dead and buried. It's to my boy you owe your loyalty now. To my son's safety. And if ever I have cause to doubt that loyalty..."

"You won't," Lupin said firmly. "I swear you won't."

Snape held his glare just a fraction of a second after Lupin's gaze faltered, then stepped back, well satisfied he'd driven his message home.

"You'd better get to the classroom," Snape suggested casually. "I'll be bringing the boys up soon."

Inside Harry was standing on his chair trying to show Neville how tall the dog had been and Snape tapped him smartly on his behind as he crossed back to his seat at the table.

"Sit down, Harry, before you fall down."

"Ow," Harry said, rubbing his bottom as he sat back down. "I was only showing Neville-"

"I heard you. But you have school in fifteen minutes and Neville still has to get changed."

"Anyway," Neville said fervently. "I 'member how big that dog-man was! I had bad dreams about it all night!"

"I had a bad dream too," Harry said matter-of-factly. "But I din't even hardly wake up."

"Didn't," Snape corrected.

"Didn't," Harry repeated dutifully, rolling his eyes at Neville.

"I saw that," Snape said.


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