Severus sucked in a breath. "Where?" he asked in a voice that was half gasp. "When?"

"The Hogshead," Albus said. "Not two hours ago. I have a contact there who--"

"Never mind that now." Severus turned to see Harry crouched against the wall in the hallway, and he beckoned the boy to him. Harry's expression was blank, but his thin shoulders were shaking ever so slightly, and his eyes were wide. Despite what assurances Severus had given him, it was obvious the boy was still afraid. And who would not be? Perhaps he was wrong in being so blunt about Black's history, and that bastard's motives in escaping. Perhaps he should have told the boy a sweet lie to make him feel better.

With a sigh, as Harry came into the circle of his arms, Severus decided, once more, not to do such a thing. Lies were for those without courage, and his son had courage in spades.

"I assume the wards have been adjusted?" In the discussion they'd had before Severus went to pick Harry up from the Weasleys, Albus had promised to make sure Black was specifically precluded from crossing the outer walls or entering through the gate into Hogwarts. Usually, former students were allowed access to the school, unless they had been individually banned.

"They have," the Headmaster said quietly. He hesitated, then added, "I'm afraid there's more. The Ministry has decided, based on the sighting at the Hogshead, to send Dementors to flush Black out."

Severus could not prevent the gasp that left his lips. He hugged Harry more tightly to his chest, as if he could possibly protect his son from those abominations that way. "Dementors, but . . ." They were never allowed away from Azkaban, so far as he knew. "What about the students?"

"The students will be told in the morning about places where they must not stray. The Dementors have been instructed by the Minister, he informed me, to stay by the outer perimeter of the school and not to enter the grounds unless they are summoned."

Shaking his head, Severus murmured, "Fudge is a fool. Since when do such creatures stay away from large populations on one man's say so? If they get too close to the school, they will tear through the student body like paper."

"I am well aware of the danger, Severus," Albus said tiredly. "The Minister is being particularly stubborn about this issue."

For a moment, Severus wondered why that might be, and when a possible answer came to him, his heart froze in his chest. "Do you think he knows about Harry?"

Albus' normal twinkle was gone already, so it was difficult to judge his emotional state, other than stressed and wary. Even so, the minute pause before he spoke was telling, in its own way. "I do not believe so."

"It is possible, however."

"Yes."

Damn. Once the Minister learned about Harry's status as Severus Snape's son -- adopted or natural -- there would be an outcry, no doubt about it. The only question was whether it would be public or not. Further, it was likely the Minister would attempt to take Harry away from him, believing the Boy Who Lived should never be even close to a Death Eater, never mind claim relation to him. That Severus had left the Dark Lord's service almost two years before that monster's demise didn't enter into the equation. It was why they were keeping Harry's whereabouts hush-hush.

"Knows what about me, Father?" a soft voice asked. Harry was resting his head on Severus' shoulder, and his green eyes looked black in the dimmed light of the sitting room.

Severus gave the boy's forehead a quick kiss and tightened his hold on his son. "That you are not with those Dursleys anymore."

Harry's body went completely still. Severus could feel the tension in every muscle of his tiny body, and immediately, he began rubbing circles on Harry's back, trying to soothe him. "Will the Mimster send me back?"

"No. Absolutely not. You're my son. You're staying with me."

In fact, given the current situation, with Black on the loose, he had half a mind to never let Harry out of his arms again, at least, not until that maniacal murderer was captured or killed. Or had his soul sucked out by Dementors.

Harry relaxed minutely. Not enough, though, not by a long shot.

"Will you return to Spinner's End?" Albus asked through the Floo. "I can make sure your classes are covered until this crisis is over."

Giving the idea serious consideration, Severus pursed his lips. Albus' generosity with regard to his classes was unexpected, and Severus could not dismiss the idea out of hand as he might have. "Perhaps. The Blood Wards will certainly keep Black out."

"Assuming he means Harry harm."

Severus' eyes narrowed as he gazed at the wizened Headmaster. "I believe that is a foregone conclusion."

Albus said nothing for a moment, then: "Did you speak to the Weasleys?"

"I did. They will go under Fidelius tomorrow, if you are available." Severus had, frankly, been amazed at the alacrity with which they had agreed to his request. Though the couple had been among the most active members of the Order of the Phoenix during the war, willing to do nearly anything to ensure the Dark Lord's downfall, as well as the most . . . forgiving of Severus' past affiliations, excepting Dumbledore perhaps, he had learned quite a long time ago not to take anything for granted. Obviously, Arthur had wanted to consider the ramifications of such a move more, and he could not blame the man; Severus would have done the same if such a request had been made of him -- not that it ever would. Molly, on the other hand, seemed willing to do absolutely anything to keep Harry safe, even a favor for a former Death Eater, and Severus had been taken aback by the swiftness of her decision.

"Excellent," Albus said. "I shall perform the ritual in the morning."

"Thank you." A soft sound from near his ear alerted him to the fact that Harry had fallen asleep, head still resting on his father's shoulder, his pale, little lips parted just enough to puff warm breaths against his neck. "I will let you know if I decide to go home."

"As soon as possible, please."

"Of course. Good night, Albus."

"Good night, my dear boy. Everything will work out for the best, I'm sure."

Severus could not abide such meaningless platitudes, so he ignored the Headmaster's last words in favor of cutting the Floo connection. A few minutes later, after laying Harry on his bed and tucking him into his quilts, he woke the boy gently so they could do their mind clearing exercises. Though not a perfect solution to Harry's nightmares by any stretch, the Occlumency-like exercises did seem to mitigate the length of time his son was caught up in such terrors, at least, and even kept him from screaming himself hoarse, some nights. Tonight, especially, he did not want to guess what shape Harry's nightmares would take.

Besides, although Severus had very few fond memories of his own childhood, the time spent with his mother on these same exercises before bed each night were chief among those. He hoped Harry would find this experience as peaceful and calming as Severus had when he was a child. Not to mention, he hoped it would strengthen the bond he had with his son. Having not been there for the first six of Harry's years, he never wanted his to doubt again that he was cared for, or that his father was near, ready and willing to aid him.

Despite the exercises, however, Harry woke with nightmares several times during the night. The second nightmare was a new one, of being chased by a big, black dog, all claws and slavering teeth. Severus knew Harry was, in general, frightened of dogs, due to his experiences with one called Ripper, a nasty little beast owned by Dursley's sister, who was another horrid, nasty beast herself. In specific, though, Harry seemed to like Fang, Hagrid's dog, and he had never had a nightmare about any other dog but Ripper as far as Severus knew.

Still, he supposed with everything that had happened today, Harry was likely to manifest more symptoms of his fear than new nightmares, and he soothed Harry through the aftermath of this one as he had any other.

In the morning, both of them were tired and anxious, and Severus decided to take his son home.

XX(Whelp)XX

Harry was uneasy. Though he liked being at Spinner's End, especially seeing Dappin again, Father was acting all weird. When Dappin let him help with dusting -- even letting Harry use the real feather duster, which he quite liked, with its colorful plumes and all -- Father followed them from room to room, carrying a book he pretended to read. And when Harry played out in the garden on his replacement broom (the first one having been eaten by a squid), Father sat on the bench near the back door, watching over the top of his book again. As far as Harry knew, Father didn't usually like being outdoors.

Also, he wouldn't let Harry eat lunch outside, even though he used to, before they moved to Hogwarts. Instead, they sat at the dining table together, with Harry nibbling on a sandwich and casting uneasy glances at his father.

"What is it, Harry?" Father asked at last. He hadn't eaten any of his own lunch, Harry noticed. His sandwich was cut into two pieces, still whole, and he still had eight apple slices on his plate. Harry liked having even numbers of food portions, like two, four and eight, whenever he could.

Harry bit his lip, not sure what Father meant, nor how he was supposed to answer that question. "Sorry, Father?"

"Whatever for?"

"Um. I don't know?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Ummm?"

Father closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Harry with a calmer expression than he'd had before. Harry instantly relaxed a bit. "Let me start again. You seem nervous, Harry. Is anything wrong?" He paused, then in a sharper tone: "Have you seen anyone lurking around, a man with black hair, for instance?"

"You have black hair, Father."

A twitch of his lip was as close to laughing as Father usually got, but this time, he snorted a breath, and his lip twitched quite a lot. "Yes. I do, don't I." He shook his head, lip still twitching. "But have you seen anyone else about?"

"Like the man who murdered my Mum and Dad?"

The lip stilled completely in that moment. The air itself seemed to still, and Harry held his breath, waiting for . . . something.

At last, Father gave one sharp nod and lowered his gaze to his plate. "Yes."

An odd feeling uncurled in Harry's stomach, making him almost ill, but he managed to say, "No, Father. I haven't seen anyone."

"Good."

Harry lifted his glass and took a long drink of milk to soothe his stomach, still watching his father's face, still uneasy.

Father's dark gaze came up again. "Did you have something you wanted to ask me, Harry?"

Though Father had told him many times he was allowed to ask questions, it was still a concept Harry was getting used to, and he was not yet passed the point of being fearful each time he did it. But after a moment's hesitation, he said, "You didn't make any potions today?"

"That doesn't sound like a question," Father said quietly.

"N-no." Harry bit his lip again, then blew out his breath an screwed up his courage. "How come?"

Something in Father's eyes darkened to pinpoints of black fire, and Harry knew an instant of pure terror, until he realized the darkness was not aimed towards him, but at something inside Father himself. "I had something more important to do."

Harry frowned, having not seen Father do much of anything all day except pretend to read while watching him play in the garden. "You did?"

Father nodded, tilting his head a bit to the side, almost like a bird watching a worm. His expression was not like a bird's, predatory, but only curious. "Yes, of course."

"But, you were only watching me play!" Harry tried to explain.

"Yes," Father said simply, and Harry was confused all over again.

He thought for another few moments, taking a bite of peanut butter sandwich to help him work it out. "Do you think he might come here, then?" he asked once he'd swallowed.

"I don't think so," Father said gravely. "But I don't want to take chances, either."

Harry chewed on his lower lip until Father drew it gently out from between his teeth. With a chagrined half-smile, Harry leaned into his hand. "Me neither."

XX(Whelp)XX

The next few days passed fairly quietly. Harry played in the garden, worked on his reading and writing, and occasionally, helped his father out with potions. Father insisted that, if he wanted to help, he had to be very careful with the instruments they used. He could not play with the knives or pestles or cauldrons, but had to be respectful; it was grown up work.

He liked the calm quietness of Father's laboratory, and the voice Father used when talking about his potions, or anything to do with them. Certain ingredients were spoken of in a near reverent whisper. Harry particularly liked the look Father gave him when they completed their first potion together. He had never had someone look proud of him before, and he basked in the wonder of that feeling until bed time.

Even though Father said the wards at the Weasleys' house -- which they called the Burrow -- had been made stronger already, they didn't return to see the Weasleys for several more days. Harry didn't mind. He liked spending time with his father more than going there. Although, he did miss playing with Ronnie and the others. A bit.

When they did finally go to the Burrow, Father did not just leave Harry there while he went to Hogwarts. Instead, he stayed nearby, keeping an eye on Harry, just like he had been doing at Spinner's End. Harry was glad that he didn't leave. He even watched Harry play Quidditch with Ronnie, Ginny and the twins, but he wouldn't play with them, even when the twins begged him to. Harry could have told them that Father didn't like that tone of voice, but he figured they'd learn it on their own.

Ronnie told Harry that his parents had received letters from their older sons who were at Hogwarts: Charlie -- who Harry missed a great deal, even after the brush off after classes started -- and Bill and "widdle Percy," as the twins called him. The letters told them about the Dementors, which Ronnie said were really scary monsters, and the twins said were more like floating zombies what tried to kiss you, and which Mrs. Weasley said not to talk about at all, boys, if you please. Bill wrote about how all the students had been warned to keep an eye out for danger in the form of Sirius Black, but no one had seen any clue that he was actually in the area. None of the older boys seemed worried about anything, in fact, except Percy was upset because his pet rat had gone missing. Unfortunately for him, the Weasleys could not afford to buy him a new one, so he had to do without a familiar for now.

All in all, despite the fact that Father hovered nearby more than Harry had ever seen him do before, they spent a contented, peaceful week or so together, both at Spinner's End, and at the Burrow, reading, making potions, and, in Harry's case, playing Quidditch and getting back to schooling with the other children.

Of course, such peace could not last forever.