Harry sat in front of the mirror, staring at the person that insisted to stare back. Himself. Just… a different him. It seemed like he'd been doing this a lot lately.

“Having fun?”

Harry looked up at Severus's voice. “It's different,” he acknowledged. “I'm getting used to it, though.”

“Don't get too used to it,” Severus said. “You're still planning on leaving, correct?”

“Yes,” said Harry as he nodded. “I am. You still plan on getting Dumbledore for me tomorrow, right? Tomorrow.”

Severus looked grumpy. “Perhaps. I suggest that you go to sleep now, it's late.”

Harry ignored the sudden change in subject, but tore himself away from the mirror and climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “This is a really nice bed, Severus. Much better than the mattress in the cupboard at the Dursleys and in Dudley's second bedroom.”

“I'm… glad you like it,” Severus said, a rather uncomfortable look crossing his face. “Now, goodnight. Sleep… well.”

The awkward “goodnight”s from Severus hadn't been new to Harry.

“Can I meet Sirius?” Harry asked suddenly, before Severus had a chance to turn off the light and leave. “I'd like to.”

“I don't think that's such a good idea,” Severus answered. “Black would end up wanting you to stay, then you'd never be able to go back like you want to. He'd make a fool of himself trying to make you stay.” Harry could've sworn he heard Severus add quietly, “Then on the other hand, that's not such a bad idea….” But he wasn't completely certain.

“Okay,” Harry agreed, though he was disappointed. “Hey Severus, you said yesterday—or was it two days ago?—that you were a Death Eater. Could you—could you tell me what that means? Please?” Harry added quickly.

Severus was quiet. “Do we need to do this now? Why not wait until tomorrow morning? It's late, Harry.”

“I'm not tired,” Harry insisted quickly. He remembered when Severus had said that he was a Death Eater, he had added “a spy” afterwards. “Honestly. So—so Death Eater… does that mean a spy? Who do you spy for? Why do you spy?”

Severus sighed, looking exhausted. “Tomorrow, Harry. Get some rest.”

Harry didn't say anything as Severus turned off the light, and he was bathed in darkness. He couldn't fight back his smile as realization washed over him. Drenched him completely. Severus Snape was acting… like a father. In all honesty, he had been ever since Harry had opened his eyes after his fall and saw the potions master beside him.

Harry liked it. He liked having somebody worry for him. Most of all, he liked having somebody care for him. Harry knew his friends cared for him, of course—and Mrs Weasley was almost like a mother to him. This, however, was different.

This was completely different. This was Severus Snape. Harry made a face, but then shook it off. No. This was Severus Snape—his father. The opposite from the Snape he originally knew.

No, Harry argued with himself. This reality-Harry's father, not his. But… could he ever think of this Severus Snape as his father?

No—

Harry groaned out loud. He really wasn't liking that word anymore. He sat up, blindly reaching out for his glasses in the dark. When he finally felt them, he picked them up and put them on. He got up and, arms out in front of him, made sure that he didn't bang into anything on his way out of the room.

The corridors of the manor seemed different at night. Quieter. The corridors during the day were just as quiet—but the thought of Severus probably asleep in his own room just made the corridors seem more deserted. Made the large house seem more deserted.

Harry slowly walked down the stairs, stopping when he was near the bottom. Where were the kitchens again? Did he turn right, or left… and then did he turn a corner and go through a door on the right? Or did he turn right and then—?

He considered going back up to ask Severus where the kitchens were, but maybe there was somewhere else that was more easy to find where he could get a glass of water? He was a little unsure about going up to ask Severus... what if he ended up getting angry at Harry for disturbing him?

He wouldn't, Harry told himself. He's not like Snape. He's different.

That word again. Different. But, that's what this was. Different.

Harry turned around to go back up the stairs, but then froze. His eyes widened, and he let out an uncomfortable sound, that almost resembled a snort. Or a laugh. Harry wasn't quite sure which—maybe it wasn't even any of the above.

“H—hullo, Severus,” Harry said, giving a weak smile at the man who stood at the top of the staircase. “I wasn't loud, was I?”

“No,” Severus replied, his voice and face remaining emotionless. “I did hear you out here, though. What are you up to?”

“I was thirsty,” Harry explained. “I… kind of forgot where the kitchens were. I'm allowed getting a drink, aren't I?” Harry blushed. “Sorry, I should've asked first.”

Severus frowned. “Why would you need to ask? It's your house too—I mean, of course, you're a guest,” he corrected, catching himself. “You don't need to ask whether you can get a drink or not. It's unheard of.”

“I don't know where the kitchen is,” Harry said again after a moment. “I—I'm not really tired, anyways.”

Severus's eyebrows rose as he came down the flight of stairs. “So you merely want a cup of water because… you don't want to go to bed?”

Harry tried to confine his grin that threatened to appear on his face. “Well… sorta. Next maybe I'll want some pancakes. Then maybe chips… Ooh, fish and chips. Perhaps even a whole gateau. All tonight, please and thank you.”

“All of this tonight?” Severus looked amused.

Harry followed Severus down the rest of the stairs and down the corridor. Finding the kitchen wasn't exactly that difficult, as Harry had imagined it to be. Once they were past the dining room and in the corridor, there was a door on the right, which lead to the kitchens. It was very clean; much like the rest of the house. Everything was in a rich, dark maple color. Harry went over and sat on a stool at the counter.

“Yep, all tonight,” Harry said, answering Severus's question. “I figure that after all that—and possibly more—that I won't get a chance to sleep. I'm really very awake. Not tired at all.”

“After all that,” Severus said, opening a cabinet to retrieve a glass, “I'd imagine that you'd be sick to your stomach. A whole gateau? Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Both,” said Harry, grinning. “It'd be both chocolate and vanilla; a swirl. With… chocolate icing and lots of cherries on top.”

Severus held the cup under the tap as he let the cold water run, filling it up. “Oh, well, then I was wrong. You wouldn't be sick to your stomach at all.”

The grin remained on Harry's face as he noticed the sarcasm woven in-between each word. “Thanks,” he said, as Severus handed him the cup of water. He sat at the counter, his elbows resting on it as he drank the water.

“You realize that after you finish that cup of water that you're going back to bed, right?”

Harry, the cup still to his lips, stared at Severus. He slowly pulled the cup away and glanced down. With a smile, he held the empty cup out to Severus and asked, “More, please?”

Severus gave Harry an amused look, before turning the tap on again and taking the cup away from Harry, holding it under the running water.

“How many more cups are you going to have until you finally agree to go to bed, Mr Snape?” came the teasing question.

There was a brief silence as Severus must've realized his mistake. He kept the cup under the water until it began to overflow, and Harry cleared his throat.

“T—the water, Severus?”

Severus seemed to come out of his trance as he quickly turned the tap off and handed the cup back over to Harry.

“It's fine,” Harry said as he wrapped both hands tightly around the cup. He gave a small grin. “Technically, I am a Snape. I—I do have Snape blood running through my veins,” he added unhelpfully.

Severus nodded, distracted. He looked as though he wasn't paying much attention to what Harry was saying. He probably wasn't.

Harry, uncomfortable with the sudden silence between them, took a sip of his water.

“Well, you must go back to bed now; you can bring your water with you,” Severus said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“O—okay,” Harry replied, getting off the stool. Severus remained quiet as he lead Harry back to the bedroom; Harry held his cup of water as they left. He didn't say anything either, but followed Severus up the stairs.

Harry went back to bed, setting the water on his nightstand as Severus began to shut the door.

“Goodnight—and I suggest that you make no more trips for water,” Severus said. “No matter how much you want to stay up.”

Harry nodded in response. He lay on his back, staring up the ceiling. He just couldn't seem to go to sleep.

--

Severus sat in bed, feeling exhausted. He couldn't seem to grasp the fact that, sleeping in the next room, was Harry. A different Harry, yes, but still Harry nonetheless.

How could that boy possibly be the son of James Potter? He was so different.

Severus remembered when he found Harry laying in the foyer. Bloody and unconscious, and the way his heart had skipped a beat at the sight—and then dropped when he found that it wasn't the same Harry that he'd lost at Hogwarts sixty-four days ago.

Sixty-four days. Well, that was three days ago, so it had really been sixty-seven days since his Harry had died. Three days ago since he found this Harry in the foyer.

Really, “this” Harry wasn't so bad. He reminded him so much of his Harry. Not just the appearance—and Severus had even begun to wonder what Harry looked like in his other reality—but the personality. There were few differences between the two personalities—but this was good. No matter, it was like… like he was being given a second chance with Harry.

Now, if only the boy wasn't so certain to go back. Severus wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to put it off. Couldn't he just ask Harry not to go back? That he was needed here? He was wanted here?

He couldn't do that. He couldn't ask Harry something like that…

Could he?

No… perhaps he couldn't.

--

As Severus slowly made his way down the flight of stairs that led to the foyer the next morning, he froze as the door opened to reveal a very familiar person step into the house.

“You don't knock?” Severus greeted grumpily.

The person scowled. “Do you want me to go back out and knock this time?”

“No, you're in here anyways,” Severus muttered as he continued down the stairs. He immediately thought of Harry as he stood in front of the guest, who was looking rather uncomfortable. There was no way he'd let anyone see Harry yet.

What was he doing here, anyways? Echoing his thoughts, Severus hissed, “What are you doing here?”