Severus paced his quarters, waiting impatiently for Albus to arrive. He'd told the Headmaster to meet him here almost an hour ago, and though he realized Albus probably had plenty to do on the first day of school, Severus was not going to let this incident slide. What had the man been thinking?? To introduce Argus Filch so casually, as if the man's presence would have no effect on Harry? To even let that filthy squib within a hundred leagues of Severus' son, after what he'd done . . .

Severus was not pleased.

And he still had to meet with his Snakes; the first night was crucial, to his way of thinking, and would set the tone for his relationship with the Slytherins for the remainder of the year. For the new first years, it would likely set the tone for their Hogwarts career. Remembering his own first night here, sixteen years ago now, he knew how important tonight was, especially since it was his first time doing this. And yet . . .

And yet, he could not leave Harry alone. He had finally calmed the boy down - needing to resort to a calming draught after soft words and gently rocking the boy had not helped - after an hour of his weeping and shaking, made all the more heartbreaking as Harry was rarely so undone. He had, in the midst of caring for the boy, promised he would not leave him, and so he would not. Besides, if his last interaction with Filch was any standard, Harry's nightmares tonight would be ferocious.

Finally, Albus' head appeared in the fireplace, surrounded by green and yellow flame. "I'm rather busy just now, Severus. Can this wait till morning?"

"It cannot. If you recall, I told you I would deal with Filch if you did not. Is it your intention to leave the matter to my discretion?"

"Now, now, Severus my dear boy-"

"Don't you ‘my dear boy' me, Albus. I want you to come and see for yourself the result of your inaction."

With a gusty sigh, Albus' head disappeared, only to be replaced a moment later by his whole body, stepping through the Floo. He spelled the soot from his bright yellow robes with a wave of his hand and then held Severus' gaze. "Argus is a special case, as well you know." His blue-eyed twinkle was more muted than Severus had seen it in recent memory. "There are very few places where he could make an honest living, with his background."

"As there are few for me, Albus," Severus snarled. "And yet, I do not make it a habit to torture young children."

"Now, now, Argus did not actually harm Harry-"

"Do you truly think so? Come in here, then." Severus gestured down the hall to Harry's room, then strode through the partly open door, waiting for Albus to follow him. The boy was curled in a fetal ball, pressed into a corner of his bed against the wall, eyes squinched shut and arms clasped around his knees, head down. Tremors shook his tiny body as he rocked himself, and his sweat soaked hair was plastered to his head.

Severus gathered the boy in his arms once more, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed. Even asleep, Harry flinched at the touch, but then curled in against Severus, wrapping tiny fists in his father's robes and pushing his face into Severus' chest.

Glaring at Albus, Severus lowered his voice to a whisper, but his tone was no less harsh for that. "He finally fell asleep, after taking twice the recommended dosage of Calming Draught for a child of eleven. Prior to that, he was inconsolable." He cupped the boy's head against his chest with the palm of his hand. "Pray, tell me again that he was not harmed."

Albus' face was unreadable, but Severus tried to gauge his reaction anyway. After a long moment, the Headmaster nodded. "I cannot send Argus away," he murmured. "But I will give him explicit instructions regarding Harry."

"That will not do!" Severus hissed. The boy whimpered in distress, and Severus hushed him again, rocking him quietly.

"It will have to, Severus. Unfortunately, I have little choice in the matter."

"Spare me your theatrics. You're the Headmaster; you could let him go."

"To what end? He is, unfortunately, better served under my watchful eye than not."

Severus fumed, in silence, for several long minutes. It was obvious that Albus was not going to bend on this issue, and just as obvious that he would not allow Severus to do as he pleased and rip the caretaker into tiny pieces and feed them to the squid. And so, he decided on a third alternative. "Then I will brew a Fidelity Draught for him to take. It's the only way I will stay here while he is also on the grounds."

"Severus!"

"No, Albus. That man is a danger to my son, and I will not have it."

"At least consider other options."

Severus was surprised to hear the pleading note in Albus' voice. He frowned. "I will give you until Friday, noon. The potion will be ready by then. If at that time, you have no better solution to offer, he will be bound to the utter protection of Harry. Else you will need to find yourself a new Potions Master."

Albus sighed again, and slowly nodded. "Very well. Let us hope it does not come to that."

Severus seconded the sentiment, wholeheartedly.

---

In the end, regarding his Head of House duties, Severus did the only thing he could. With Harry swaddled in a blanket, Severus clutched him close to his chest, and went to the Snake den as planned. Harry was far enough under the effects of the potion that he barely noticed, though lines of tension still creased his face in his sleep. The Slytherins, however, never ones to pass up a perceived weakness, watched them both with close scrutiny.

To compensate, Severus increased his scowl by a factor of ten, at minimum, and added extra menace to his voice. By the end of his speech on their responsibilities, his expectations, and the list of rules they needed to follow to escape his wrath, they appeared sufficiently cowed that he expected little in the way of problems from them, at least not in the near future.

One of the sixth year girls approached him afterwards, though, and offered to baby-sit Harry, if he ever needed the help.

He looked the girl up and down. "Miss Parkinson, correct?"

"Yes, Professor Snape. Rose Parkinson."

Though his instinct was to refuse her offer, with the excuse that familiarity bred contempt, he was all too aware that, currently, only a Gryffindor - in the person of Charlie Weasley - exerted any influence on his son, and he would be shortsighted to dismiss aid from one of his own House. Thus he spoke in measured tones, "I will consider it. I appreciate your interest."

"Thank you, sir." She smiled at the boy in his arms, her pug-like features softening. "How old is he?" she asked, and Severus sighed, resigned to holding a conversation.

"Seven."

"I have a little sister that age." She frowned a bit. "But he's so little," she murmured.

Severus snorted. "Don't let his size fool you; he's quite a terror when up and running."

The girl laughed. "Pansy is as well." She looked over her shoulder to where some of her year mates were gathered, watching her and waiting. "I should go; Prefect stuff, you know? But thank you, Professor."

With a muttered hmmph, Severus left his Snakes and returned to his quarters, knowing he'd lost something in the interaction with Parkinson, but unsure exactly what.

---

Harry's nightmares were horrid, and neither of them got much sleep that night. In the morning, the boy was clingy and fretful, and Severus despaired of getting either of them to breakfast on time. Finally, he had to call in both Nelli and Fern to stay with Harry in their quarters, while he went to hand out class schedules and grab a quick bite before he was due at his first class.

Breakfast was just about over when he arrived, however, so all he got for his trouble was a lukewarm cup of coffee. He spelled it hot again, but the resulting bitterness made him waspish. McGonagall, in particular, gave him wide berth. After a half dozen unsatisfying sips, he swooped down upon the Slytherin table and passed out schedules, ignoring the early morning whining of his students as they perused their timetables.

With only minutes before his first class, he hurried to the dungeon, robes billowing behind him in his haste. As he flew to class, he heard more than one comment about his likeness to a Great Black Bat. The idea made him smirk, and he put an extra bit of billow in his stride as he slammed open the door of the potions classroom, startling the third year combined class of Gryffindors and Slytherins so that they jumped almost as one in their seats and turned to stare at him.

He cast his gaze over the class, catching this one's eyes, then that one's, staring each of them down in turn. After he was sure they were all attentive, and suitably leery of him, he pitched his voice to a near whisper. "There will be no foolish wand waving here," he began . . .

---

"Where's my father?" Harry asked again.

Nelli cocked her head to the side, her big eyes sympathetic, though her voice was firm as she said, "Master Snape is teaching his class, Master Harry. And he is wanting you to eat your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry." His stomach hurt, like there were butterflies swarming around in there, and he didn't want to eat. He just wanted his father back.

"You is not supposed to be skipping your breakfast, Master Harry."

"I'm not skipping-"

"And you is not supposed to be whining, either," Nelli continued.

"I'm not. I just want my Daddy." His eyes filled with tears; he couldn't make them stop, even though he'd been feeling like this all morning. It was weird, really; he'd never cried so much in his whole life. "Why can't he come home and be with me?"

"Master Snape is teaching his class, Master Harry," Nelli said again. "But after you is eating your breakfast, Nelli can take you to visit Mister Hagrid and the slobbery dog, yes?"

"Don' wanna."

"Master Harry," Nelli chided. "Mister Hagrid is missing you, Nelli thinks. He is saying two days ago he is wanting to see you again soon."

Still sitting at the little table in their kitchen, Harry poked at his sausage and eggs, swirling them around on the plate. His toast lay to the side, untouched.

"Master Harry?"

"Okay," he said dully.

"You are eating your breakfast first, Master Snape says."

"Okay." He poked at the eggs a bit more, taking two bites before he gave Nelli a pleading look. "'M really not hungry," he told her.

Nelli tutted at the plate, but nodded, and Harry slid off his chair and, after donning his light cloak followed her outside. The day was cloudy, with a slight chill and the hint of mist in the breeze that blew across the grounds. Morning dew clung to the grass, still, and Harry's shoes were soaked, socks as well, within minutes of their descent from the castle. But Harry hardly noticed.

As they neared Hagrid's hut, Fang launched himself at them, and Harry pushed his nose away as the boarhound tried to lick his face off. "Down, Fang," he said, instead of laughing like he usually did. Fang obeyed.

"'Arry!" a loud voice exclaimed from the garden in back of the hut. "Good ter see ye, lad. Come in, have a cuppa with me and Fang."

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry said. "I'm not real thirsty."

"Not thirsty for tea?" Hagrid looked shocked. "'Ow ‘bout a nice cakie, then? Made ‘em fresh this mornin'."

"Not hungry," Harry said and drew a circle in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "But thanks."

"Oh, now what's wrong, then, ‘arry? Never seen yer refuse a cakie b'fore."

Harry shrugged, and Hagrid came up in front of him, and put a couple huge fingers under his chin, tilting his face up so he had to look at the giant's face. "You can tell me, ‘arry. Anything a'tall what troubles yer, ye know that."

"Can't," Harry said, and to his horror, felt tears rise again. He roughly rubbed them out of his eyes before Hagrid could see.

"Sure ye can." Hagrid's voice was real soft, and so kind it made the breath hitch in Harry's chest, just to hear it.

"I want my father," he whispered, embarrassed, but desperate all the same.

"Ah, well, now, ‘arry, he's busy with classes today. Ye know that."

"I know, Hagrid. But he's . . . he . . ."

"Spit it out," Hagrid encouraged. "It's all righ'."

"He's the only one what'll keep me safe," Harry blurted at last, the words tumbling over each other. "When Mister Filch tries to kill me. ‘Cause he will. I know it. He'll catch me and put me in chains and hurt me bad, and only my Daddy can save me."

Hagrid's silence was like a roar of blood in Harry's ears. The giant stared down at him for a long, long time, and then his eyes filled with tears, spilling over to drip down his cheeks and into his scraggly beard. "Ach, no, Harry," he said and sniffled loudly, wiping fingers the size of sausages across his face. "No, no, never think tha'. Mr. Filch won't do it, not any of it. And the Headmaster wouldna let him, anyway, and neither would your Da'."

"But-"

"No buts, now, ‘arry. Yer safe as houses, I swear on Dumbledore's good name. All righ'?"

Biting his lip, Harry glanced at Nelli, who nodded quickly in agreement. Thoroughly outnumbered, he hitched up his shoulders a bit, but then nodded, too. "Okay. All right."

"Good, good." Hagrid patted him on the back, almost knocking him over. "Now, come inside a mo'. I got a delivery last nigh', some'at you'll like, I'm sure. All the way from Siberia, this one is. . . ."

Calling up a smile for Hagrid's newest acquisition, Harry followed him into his hut.