Harry had just about decided he was bored of staring at the ceiling when the door swung open and Snape walked in without so much as a knock.

"Hey --" Harry started, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed.

Snape stopped in the center of the room and fixed him with an icy look.

Harry let the rest of his outraged exclamation come out as a huff of annoyance. He had forgotten to change the password.

"Are you ready?" Snape asked, his eyes trailing over Harry's disheveled hair, wrinkled robes, filthy bedspread, and all the way down to the boots he had tramped through the greenhouses in.

"Er..." Harry, following Snape's gaze, felt his ears start to burn. "Almost."

Snape pushed the door shut with considerable force, not even bothering to use his wand.

Harry instinctively braced himself.

"In the future," Snape said in a tightly controlled tone, "you will keep your room clean and tidy. Beds are not for wallowing in during daylight hours."

Harry nodded, his throat too constricted to risk saying anything.

"You will keep your clothing in good condition -- you will not be getting a new wardrobe any time soon." Snape's eyes again landed on the muddy boots, but he wrenched them away. "It is fortunate I came to fetch you first. We will be waiting for you in the courtyard in ten minutes. Do attempt to look presentable."

Without waiting for Harry's answer, Snape pulled the door open and walked out.

After a moment, Harry allowed himself to take a full breath. He straightened his hunched, aching shoulders and slowly stood up.

Really, he had been expecting worse, and Snape was right not to find dirty boots on a clean bedspread the least bit acceptable. If Harry hadn't been upset from the fiasco with the wands, he never would have done such a thing. Years with the Dursleys and never having nice things had taught him to take care of what he did have. Hadn't he kept every small thing ever given to him, no matter if it was used up or broken? His old trunk had been filled up with all the things he couldn't part with.

He pulled off his robes, only to be reminded that he had put them on to cover his stained shirt. He had to change that, too.

As an afterthought, he put on one of the black, silky ties that had come with the rest of his new clothes and which he hadn't thought he would have any use for.

He had just enough time to give his hands another quick scrub under hot water, tie his hair back to disguise the tangle it had somehow developed, and head out the door.

He almost ran into Lupin.

"You look nice, Hadrian," Lupin said, looking him over with a slightly surprised expression. "Walk with me?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"I'm putting together everything you will need to make up invitations to your birthday tea. Parchment, envelopes... that sort of thing."

"Thank you," Harry said, a bit stiffly. "I appreciate it."

"Do you need help with the wording?"

"I can manage."

"All right," Lupin said. "I'll leave everything with your dad. You will be meeting for another tutoring session later today, am I correct?"

"Yes, that's right," Harry said, trying to push back an odd sensation of being somehow disconnected from himself, as though he were standing off to the side, watching himself walking down the corridor at Lupin's side. He told himself it was just the way Lupin said 'dad' that made him feel this way. "For Potions."

"Are you making progress?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

He could feel Lupin studying him, but Lupin didn't say anything more until they were emerging from the dungeon stairwell and into the Entrance Hall.

"If you wouldn't mind helping again, I think my office will be ready for the new year. After your Potions lesson, perhaps?"

Harry started to nod, then spotted the Weasley twins giving him and Lupin a suspicious look from the staff room doorway.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "I would be glad to help."

"Thank you," Lupin said. "Well, enjoy your time with your dad. You both deserve some downtime. I will see you at dinner."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, ignoring the twins as he walked past the staff room while Lupin went inside.

Keeping his back very straight and his head held high, Harry continued toward the courtyard. By the time he got to the door and looked back, the staff room door was closed and there was no one around.

Trying to maintain his posture, even though he felt more deflated with each step he took, Harry pushed open the door to the courtyard and stepped out into the sunshine.

Blinking in the bright light -- Harry decided he really did need to spend more time outdoors and out of the gloomy dungeons -- he looked around and saw the table that had been set up in the shade of the stone arches, away from the overgrown open green. Snape and Malfoy were already sitting, and both were looking at him.

With a small sigh, Harry headed over to the table. With just a little more effort, he even managed to smile.

"Hadrian," Snape said, inclining his head. "Late as always. Come sit down."

Harry sat down, feeling about as comfortable as a worm on a hook. Of course Snape couldn't go without a dig at him. So what if he had been late a few times? It wasn't like he was doing it out of spite.

At least the food was decent; Harry perked up a little at the sight of pumpkin pastries, scones, rice pudding, jam doughnuts, and custard tarts. The meals at Hogwarts so far had been much simpler than he was used to, which he thought was either because it was summer and there were so few people staying at Hogwarts, or because there weren't many house-elves left.

Snape poured tea into their cups, starting with Harry's.

"We were just discussing your invitation to Neville Longbottom's birthday tea," Snape said conversationally. He looked up at Harry for a brief moment, which Harry would have missed if he hadn't been staring right at Snape. "Have you decided if you will attend?"

"I already told Neville I would," Harry said. He accepted his teacup and added milk and several lumps of sugar. "I would want him to attend mine."

Malfoy looked interested. "Is your birthday soon? Mine passed -- it was June the fifth."

"The first of August," Harry said. "I'm having a tea, same as Neville."

"Am I invited?" Malfoy asked, a surprisingly wary tone creeping into his voice.

"Of course," Harry said, looking down into his tea so he wouldn't have to look at Malfoy. "I'm inviting everyone and they can decide if they want to come or not."

"I'll come," Malfoy said, dropping sugar into his tea and sounding like himself again. "Now if Potter has a party, that will be three in a row."

Harry looked up, confused and slightly irritated without really knowing why. "Huh?"

Snape gave him a warning look.

"Potter's birthday is on the 31st," Malfoy explained. "I don't know if you know this, but he's been here before and he's friends with the Weasleys and all the rest. It would be just like him to have a party here, with all his friends."

Harry chewed on this for a minute, annoyed that anyone -- even Malfoy who had never liked him -- thought a grandiose party was his way of celebrating his birthdays, and even more irritated by the thought that Malfoy apparently expected an invitation to Harry's party if he did have one. Come to think of it, Snape had mentioned Lupin planning a party for Harry, which rather suggested that Malfoy wasn't alone in thinking Harry wanted to be made a big fuss over.

"Hmm," Harry said, when he realized the silence had stretched and Snape was looking daggers at him again. He took a gulp of his too-hot tea and spent the next minute trying not to choke.

"Have you decided on an answer for your father, Draco?" Snape asked, giving Harry one final withering look before turning his attention to Malfoy.

Malfoy was finding his tea very interesting. Harry thought it had to be more sugar than tea now, but Malfoy stirred in more.

"He will only wait so long," Snape continued. "Your silence will have the opposite result if you do not wish to see him."

"Fine, I'll write something," Malfoy mumbled. "But I'm not going anywhere." He looked up worriedly, letting his spoon clatter in his teacup. "You don't really think he would come here, do you?"

"I don't believe he has any reason to," Snape said carefully. "He has any number of more pressing matters, and he knows you are safe here."

Malfoy nodded and went back to stirring his tea.

"Why --" Harry began before catching himself. "Never mind."

Snape looked his way, which made Harry even more sorry about opening his mouth.

"Draco is my godson," Snape said after a moment. "I became his guardian in the time between his mother leaving the country and his father's release from Azkaban. As he was in Ministry custody at the time, I was not notified --"

Malfoy made an odd noise, which he drowned by gulping his tea.

Snape patted Malfoy on the arm. "Many families were leaving or going into hiding at the time. I had no reason to think you hadn't gone with your mother, Draco."

Malfoy nodded without raising his head.

They drank their tea in silence for a while.

"How did you get guardianship of Potter, sir?" Malfoy asked suddenly. "If you don't mind my asking."

Harry looked up so fast his neck cracked audibly. Fortunately Snape had set down his teacup on the saucer at the same time.

"Same way," Snape said, giving Harry a mistrustful look as if expecting him to throw a fit then and there.

Malfoy frowned. "You're Potter's godfather?" He bit a piece off a scone and frowned some more. "Since when?"

"I am not Potter's godfather," Snape said, still looking at Harry. "However, I was mentioned in his parents' will. As you know, the Potters went into hiding because they believed themselves to be in danger..."

Malfoy nodded. Harry was too busy not breathing to do the same.

"They named four potential guardians for their child. The first was Sirius Black, who was the child's godfather. The second choice were the Longbottoms, the parents of Neville Longbottom."

Harry swallowed. He hadn't known that. If Neville's parents hadn't been attacked, would he and Neville have grown up together, perhaps as close as brothers? He didn't think Alice and Frank Longbottom would have treated Neville and Harry as differently as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had treated Harry and Dudley, though of course he had no way of knowing for certain.

"The third was Albus Dumbledore, who chose to place the child with maternal relatives." Snape paused. "Muggles, as you know. Until his death, Dumbledore had full control over Potter's affairs. At his death, those rights went to me."

"Oh," Malfoy said, still frowning. "Just like that?"

"Not without a number of hearings and other delays," Snape said. He was still watching Harry, but was apparently somewhat appeased by Harry's lack of an outburst. He took a sip of his tea and leaned back. He smiled at Harry, which was a rather terrifying sight. "That is how I found you, Hadrian, in fact. The Ministry did a very thorough investigation."

Under Snape's unyielding gaze, Harry nodded -- or, rather, his head wagged woodenly -- and tried to return the smile.

"But, I thought James Potter hated you," Malfoy said. "My father said so one time when I asked why you were always so hard on Potter."

Harry sneaked another look at Malfoy. Malfoy had thought Snape was hard on him?

"Yes." Snape's lip curled just a little before he seemed to catch himself. "Yes, that is true. However, his mother and I were friends."

"But she was a..." Malfoy trailed off, then tried again. "But she was in Gryffindor."

"True," Snape said, inclining his head. "But we were friends before we came to Hogwarts. We lived close to each other. It is true that being in different Houses made it difficult to be friends while at school, but we made up for that over the summer holidays."

Harry looked at Snape, but couldn't tell if this was just another convenient lie for the sake of appearances, or possibly true. He just knew that he was going to chase down Lupin first chance he got, and he wasn't going to walk away without some answers.

"That she was Muggleborn made no difference to me," Snape continued, as if guessing what Malfoy's original question had been. "Hadrian's mother was a Muggleborn witch as well. She was a remarkable person..."

Snape lapsed into silence, staring broodily off into the distance.

Malfoy shrugged at Harry and then went back to his tea.

Harry's scone was forgotten in his hand and he suddenly remembered he was holding it, taking another bite. He was definitely going to corner Lupin before the day was over. He just wished he was more sure of what he hoped to hear. Would he rather Snape was lying, or that Snape really had been friends with Harry's mother? The latter had some possibilities he couldn't quite dismiss; he didn't know very many people who had known his mother and were willing to talk about her.

Before Harry could decide, Snape shook himself out of his reverie and refilled their cups.

"What plans are you making for your birthday, Hadrian? I realize I haven't had much time, but I understand Professor Lupin offered to help you?"

"Er... yes," Harry said carefully, aware that Malfoy was listening with an interested expression. "He is helping me with the invitations. I haven't thought any farther than that. I'll just do the same as Neville, I think."

"You still have some time. Let me know if you need anything."

Harry dismissed the throw-away comment, but not before feeling a small sting over the unfairness of not having anyone to go to if he did need something as silly as help with birthday plans. It was all very well to have people who cared whether he lived or died -- he did believe that both Lupin and Snape did that, or else he might have died several times over the previous five years -- but help with birthday parties seemed like the sort of thing you needed family for.

"Are you all right, Draco?"

Harry looked up in time to catch Malfoy stifling a yawn.

"Just tired."

Harry looked at him closely. Malfoy looked a great deal better than he had when Snape had carried him into the castle, when he had looked close to dead, but he still looked like someone who belonged in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care. He supposed it would take a lot more than a few days to make a difference. Harry, after a summer with the Dursleys, always needed a few weeks, at least, to feel like he had completely regained his strength... and the Dursleys had rarely truly starved him.

"Perhaps you should return to your room and rest. I believe you may have overexerted yourself today. You are trying to do too much, too soon. Pushing yourself will not help you heal faster."

Malfoy nodded and gathered up his uneaten pastries and tarts into a napkin.

"Think about writing to your father. Putting it off will not make it easier."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for the tea."

Snape inclined his head. "I will see you at dinner, then."

Harry watched Malfoy leave, trying to think of an excuse to follow him.

To his horror, Snape refilled both their cups again.

"You will not be able to have a party on the 31st," Snape said, eyeing him and making 'party' sound like a bad word.

"I know it," Harry said, as calmly as he could. "We just discussed that in your office."

"Yes, well..." Snape brushed imaginary crumbs off his robes, finally looking away. "It's best not to set your expectations too high. Your birthday will be a quiet event, with very little fanfare and such. It will not be what you are used to."

Harry shrugged. "I never even had a real birthday before I turned eleven. Hagrid gave me my first ever birthday cake and my first present."

Snape frowned at him.

"Well, maybe not my first present," Harry amended. "The Dursleys gave me things, sometimes." He grimaced. "Old socks, used toothpicks, once a ball of twine that was actually rather useful..."

He sighed a little at the expression on Snape's face. Well, it was nice to have gotten it off his chest, even if Snape thought he was being an attention-seeking liar.

"A tall tale if I ever heard one," Snape said in a low, silky tone. "You have a particular affinity for pairing exaggeration with self-pity, don't you?"

Harry drank his tea silently.

"Do try to keep your expectations in proportion to reality," Snape warned. "I suspect you will not have very many people in attendance, and you certainly should not expect gifts --"

"I don't," Harry said flatly. Gifts still surprised him, even after five years. He certainly didn't expect Hadrian to get any.

"Good," Snape said. He sipped his own tea and continued to study Harry like he might an insect under a magnifying lens. "Now that that's out of the way... what will you be giving Longbottom?"

Harry looked at him blankly.

"Well?" Snape said impatiently. "You can't show up empty-handed. What does the boy like?"

"He likes plants," Harry said. With a rather uncomfortable feeling, he realized he didn't know what else Neville liked. "Er... I don't think he has any pictures of his parents at the moment, because he's carrying around a really bad one that was in the Daily Prophet earlier."

Snape's lips thinned, but he didn't say anything.

"Only I'm not supposed to know that," Harry said, shaking his head. It gave him a headache to keep track of what he knew and what Hadrian did. "He showed that to me when I was... me."

"I see," Snape said. "I doubt Longbottom truly lacks photographs of his family, but I'm not surprised he has none with him. Since you will have to decline his invitation --"

"But I already accepted!"

Snape gave him a withering look. "Think before opening your mouth. You will be going as you are now, will you not?"

Harry nodded, feeling foolish. Neville would have to receive a rejection from Harry to go along with an acceptance from Hadrian.

"Since you will be declining," Snape repeated, looking at him like he expected another interruption, "you may include a gift. Frank Longbottom was in the Slug Club --"

"The what?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

Snape sniffed irritably.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I'm sorry. But... the what?"

"Slug Club," Snape said. He paused and waited, only continuing when Harry stayed silent. "It was a social group for outstanding students, organized and directed by the former Head of Slytherin House. A man by the name of Horace Slughorn..." Snape paused again, but Harry was still listening quietly. "He also taught Potions."

"Oh," Harry said when Snape didn't go on.

"I may have one or two photographs from that. You may look through them and if you find one of Frank Longbottom you may send it."

Harry stared at Snape. That was a downright decent thing to offer, and he never would have expected it of Snape.

"Thank you," he finally managed. "Er... so, you were in this club? The Slug Club?"

"Yes," Snape said, nodding slowly. A bit of a faraway look entered his eyes again, just like when he had been talking about Hadrian's (or maybe Harry's, Harry wasn't quite sure) mother. "So was your mother --"

"Lily?" Harry asked, leaning forward eagerly and forgetting he wasn't supposed to interrupt. "Or Beatrice?"

Snape's eyes snapped back into focus. "What? Oh." He frowned for a moment. "Lily was."

It was almost enough to make Harry ask him if he really had been friends with her, but he held back, determined to ask Lupin first. Anyway, from the agitated way Snape picked up his teacup and drained it, his knuckles white around the handle, Snape wasn't in the mood for any more questions.

"Thank you," Harry said, rather stiffly. "That would make a good present."

"Yes, well --" Snape caught himself and took a breath. When he spoke again, his tone was even. "You still need a gift you can bring to the tea. I suppose you can look through the books in my personal library. I have a number of herbology texts I have no use for anymore, and they may as well go to someone with an aptitude for the subject."

Harry, surprised again, could only stumble out another thanks, in spite of the fact that Snape was giving him a look that implied Harry's own lack of aptitude was simply appalling.

"Come along," Snape said abruptly, getting up and waving his wand over the table, causing everything to vanish from sight -- even the custard tart Harry had hastily reached for. "I still have a number of things to do."

"Thank you for the tea," Harry said.

Snape looked at him doubtfully, then nodded. "It was less of a disaster than I anticipated. Come along."

For a moment, Harry watched as Snape started walking back toward the courtyard door, then trailed after him.

He supposed Snape was right, and it hadn't been the sort of disaster Harry had been anticipating, either. That didn't, of course, mean he wanted to repeat the experience. Snape had been behaving oddly all day; his relative lack of bite was probably a one-off sort of thing. Either that, or he had let out all his frustration on Lupin earlier and hadn't left much in reserve for Harry.

Snape held the door open, looking impatient. "Stop dawdling."

With a small sigh, Harry shook off his thoughts and trotted to catch up.

They walked together as far as the staff room, where Snape stopped.

"If you haven't already, clean your room and prepare any of your clothes that need to be washed. I will make sure a house-elf makes a round of the dungeons tonight. After that, you may spend some time studying. I still intend for us to have a Potions lesson tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"Go on."

Harry could feel Snape watching him until he was safely out of sight.

He paused as he reached the dungeon stairs, looking toward the main staircase. He supposed Lupin must be in the staff room and there was no point going up to his office just then, though he was still just as determined to find him and get some answers. It would just have to wait.

He headed down to the dungeons, but not without feeling just a little annoyed with himself for having come up with a convincing excuse to do just as Snape had told him.