Severus let the door to his apartment slam with an ominous thud that seemed to shake the entire room. Indeed, a sickeningly bright pink plate featuring ladies in Victorian formal dress (Petunia’s wedding present to the happy couple) slipped from its pride of place over the mantelpiece and shattered into a thousand rose coloured shards on the cold stone floor. His pursed lips twitched into an almost reluctant smile for a split-second, before his anger at that damn boy overcame his smug amusement at the destruction of what he deemed 'Petunia’s monstrosity'. Muttering a quick reparo (save Lily berate him over damage to her property), Severus strode across the living room in mere seconds. A quick alohomora opened the door to the Potter spawn’s room- for at times like these Harry was James’ son entirely. Harry, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Harry?” Severus yelled. “Do not make me drag you out from under your bed! This isn’t a bloody game of hide and seek.” The boy’s choice of sanctuary left a lot to be desired- surely even he must realise that under the bed is the most obvious of hiding places. It was at times like these Severus thanked Merlin that Harry’s invisibility cloak was locked behind goblins in Gringotts.

The room was silent, save the blood pounding in Severus’ ears. He started to count from one to ten, using a calming technique Lily had shown him in one of the muggle parenting books she had purchased in abundance after the infamous burst blood-vessel incident. However, by the time he reached three he snorted at the preposterous muggle notion, bent over and grabbed the boy’s foot from under the bed attempting to forcibly remove him. Muttering to himself at the damage being done to his innocent back, Severus felt almost cheered at the thought of a thousand and one ways he could destroy Potter’s broomstick- ‘could’ being the operative word, for he knew that if he so much as harmed one twig on that blasted stick Lily would have him strung up by his thumbs before he could say 'quidditch'.

Slowly, after the ankle came a pair of legs, followed by a body and a head. Harry clung to the bedpost as if his life depended on it, his body almost squirming its way out of Severus’ grasp. The Potions Master smirked. His eyes glaring down the bridge of his hook-shaped nose, burning into the child’s petulant frown. Severus wondered where Lily was. She had normally imbibed him with a calming draught by now, lectured him over appropriate child-rearing methods or at least attempted to distract him with Potion Brewers’ Monthly. He never understood why he always had to be the pantomime villain. Why Lily insisted on leaving that duty to him, only to interfere and distract Severus in the process thus aiding the child from evading his punishment.

Severus shook himself out of his reverie. There were questions that needed to be answered. He supposed he might as well reason with the boy, rather threatening to use his vital organs as potions ingredients…

“Harry, could you let go of the bed please. I apologise for frightening you,” Severus tried, with as much sincerity as he could muster.

He loosened his grip on Harry, who in turn used the brief moment of Snape allowing his guard to slip to kick his stepFather squarely on the nose. Any thoughts towards reason quickly evaporated from the Potion Master’s mind. He took one hand off Harry, raised the boy’s legs off the ground with his other, and brought his free hand down on Harry’s backside with an almighty ‘thwack’ that echoed off the dungeon walls. Tears pricked at Harry’s eyes, and he let go- his hands rushing to protect his rear from further attack. Severus hoisted the boy out, depositing him on the bed like a sack of potatoes, taking a moment to run through one of those silly breathing exercises Lily was so insistent on- as she would only shout at him if he neglected to “take a time out” before continuing his ‘conversation’ with Harry.

Harry sat up, wide eyed, brimming with unshed tears and lips a quivering. Severus towered over him, ‘like a huge black bird,’ Harry often thought. He vanished the idea of Daddy chirping out of his head, as it threatened the maintenance of his ‘tractable child’ façade. ‘Think sad thoughts, think sad thoughts…’ Harry repeated like a mantra inside his head, ‘Think of dinner at the Dursley’s, having to scrub cauldrons… Daddy’s face when caught you trying to tie-dye Mrs Norris,' and so on. Harry sniffed meaningfully and rubbed the place on this behind where he was certain there was an almost perfect imprint of Severus’ hand.

Harry wanted Mummy to come and help him before Daddy got really mad and found out that he had broken his promise. He felt bad about that, Daddy had been almost nice about it last time- and here Harry was, two weeks later going out and stealing a wand again. Perhaps he shouldn’t have kicked him, particularly not the nose- he’d heard Mummy say that Daddy was teased about that particular orifice at school- Daddy might have just shouted at him and taken away his broomstick for a week but Harry had a sinking feeling he had got himself in rather hot water, and he prayed to Merlin that Daddy wasn’t as angry as the time he’d fed his cousin Dudley an acid pop.

“Stop that snivelling, or I’ll give you something to cry about,” Severus spat out his usual line. The child began to sniff louder, the unshed tears now running down his bright pink cheeks. Severus caught the child’s shaking chin firmly, and looked into the boy’s eyes, black and green orbs reflecting simultaneously.

“Whose wand did you steal?” he questioned in that silkily dangerous tone that had the Hufflepuffs crying before he had even began to deduct points.

“Don’t be mad Daddy! I’m sorry that the Slytherins got turned green. Wasn’t me! Wasn’t me, Daddy!” the boy garbled incoherently.

Harry pulled out all the stops, going for his well-honed ‘little boy lost’ routine that seemed to work on everybody apart from Severus and Argus Filch. Losing patience, Severus wordlessly legilimenised Harry whilst the child carried on proclaiming his innocence at the top of his voice.

Unfortunately- unfortunate for Harry- occlumency was not on the syllabus at Miss Marchwood’s Magical Academy and from Harry’s mind Severus extricated the imagine of his wife sleeping, her wand discarded on the bathroom floor when all of a sudden small hand reached out, and scooped it up. He saw his own private laboratory strewed with potion ingredients (such a violation!) as the boy worked haphazardly to make a colour-change serum. He glimpsed the Hogwarts’ kitchens- a vat of pumpkin juice destined for the Slytherin table- no house elf in sight, and finally Harry’s own gleeful laughter as he watched the Slytherin first years turn green before the entire school.

“Desist with these lies immediately,” Severus spat. He was torn between various notions- from concern over the fact that his wife was passed out in the bath at three in the afternoon, to extreme rage at the violation of his inner sanctum and the theft from his own private stores. He had to admit though, if the joke had not been on his own house, he would have been slightly proud at the boy’s potions aptitude. A colour-change serum was no easy task, and Harry was only eight- no seven- years old. The pride sparked off a new emotion- anger at the recklessness exhibited by the boy’s act of brewing a noxious potion unaided. If the wrong amount of lacewigs had been added he might have lost a limb in the ensuing explosion! The boy had no regard for his own safety. Severus shook his head, breaking eye contact with Harry and letting go of his chin.

Harry was starting to feel a bit scared. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He’d imagined that Uncle Albus would be somewhat amused, probably letting him hide out in his office whilst Daddy drank the calming draught Mummy usually force-fed him after one of Harry’s misdeeds. It wasn’t fair how she left it to Daddy to reprimand him. He wasn’t even his real Father, as they both liked to remind each other at various intervals. Harry loved Severus fiercely, but he also loved to try the man’s nonexistent patience- just as Severus made it his lifelong ambition to stop Harry from ever having any fun.

It was unfair to say that Harry resented the dour man’s presence in their lives. Without Snape, Mummy might still be doing her impression of the Grey Lady, existing but not living, stuck in a grief palpable to one and all. Harry supposed his step-father’s devotion had managed to stop her from lying on the chaise-longue all day, sniffing those strange herbal things she took it upon herself to warn the seventh year students about. As Snape family mythology goes, Severus once came back from teaching a second year Hufflepuff/ Ravenclaw class to find Mummy completely ‘out of it’ (as Charlie likes to say) washing his naked two year old self in the kitchen sink- whilst a plump chicken rested in his cradle!

Meanwhile, a sense of foreboding had crept up on Lily. She heaved her tired form out of the bathtub, and quickly dried herself with a charm. She craved another glass of wine, but considering her predicament, it would be unwise. She dressed and exited the room, pausing outside her son’s room before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

“Mummy,” wailed Harry. “Daddy hit me and it was an accident and I didn’t do it and he’s mean and----”

“Harry, my love, why don’t you take a nice deep breath and begin again, slowly. I’m afraid I don’t understand gibberish, Pronglet.”

Lily shot Severus a filthy, who in turn was looking at Harry like he wanted to throttle him. She knew that she had asked him to take on the role of ‘Father’, back when they exchanged their vows- and by Father she meant that she wanted someone to be able to keep her precious and precocious son on the straight and narrow as she knew herself to be too easily swayed by his cheeky grin and mop of messy black hair. In short, she saw too much of James in him, and at times that brought back the guilt she had never been able to fully shake off over the circumstances of his death. Lily was not a meek and mild person. In fact, there were times when Harry acted so oblivious to James’ sacrifice, James’ mark of blood protection- that each time he came home baring the war-wounds of his latest daredevil stunt (what other child, at five years old, steals a student’s broom and manages to ride it into the whomping willow?) she felt like shaking some sense into him. So Lily was trusted with Harry’s welfare. She clothed him, fed him and loved him as a Mother loves her babe, whereas Severus was charged with making Harry learn right from wrong- a lesson, for both Harry and Severus, that was often learnt the hard way.

Lily’s eyes hardened as she examined Severus more closely. “Sev what on earth happened to your nose?” she exclaimed.

“Your son, that’s what happened. I don’t think I need to explain how he came into being- seeing as you were there at his conception.”

Harry giggled, unsure what conception meant, but the look on Mummy’s face made him think that it was one of those words that Daddy wasn’t supposed to say in front of him. Only this was a bad move as it brought Mummy’s attention back to him.

“Harry James Potter! What did I tell you about kicking? After you had detention for kicking Seamus last month!” Lily shrilled. Two pink spots began to appear on above her cheekbones.

Harry and Severus shot each other covert looks. Severus had neglected to tell Lily that he’d actually not punished the boy over that incident, seeing as sweet and innocent Seamus had provoked the attack by taunting Harry that his Stepfather was a 'mean, smelly vampire who everyone hated'. Severus had felt a rush of love for the child hearing how he defended him, whatever the double standard. Even though he’d heard Harry, himself, call him “mean”, “smelly” and “a big fat vampire” on more occasions that he’d like to remember. As Harry had told him at the time, “only family can say mean things, right Daddy?”

Harry and Severus both nodded. Severus made a move to change the subject.

“More importantly Lily, the boy has lied barefaced to me. He stole your wand whilst you were sleeping and then proceeded to break into my laboratory and make a highly complicated potion, a potion that he then slipped into the Slytherin pumpkin juice at dinnertime. Leaving me to tend to ten GREEN first years!” His voice now reaching an earsplitting volume.

“Oh… Well, Sev, you need to calm down before you do anything rash. Perhaps I could make you some of that tea you seems to drink so much of?” Lily made her first move towards deflecting the man’s anger.

“Tea? Tea? Lily, the boy’s got to learn that all actions have a consequence. I will not have you raise him to be spoiled, prancing around the place like some bloody Malfoy. It’s bad enough that if Narcissa gets her way Draco will be lording it me over as ‘king of the dungeons’ for seven years of hell. Besides, Lils, you have enough on your plate with the baby. Poppy warned you against the perils of allowing your temper to flare up---”

Before he had even finished that train of thought Lily’s eyes flashed darkly. She yanked Severus’ hand, propelling him out of Harry’s room and shut the door.

“Don’t you, “the baby” me Severus Snape. I’m perfectly able to be concerned for Harry without harming our unborn child! You forget that I have done this before.”

Snape shuddered. He knew that he had gone one step too far. The baby was a sore point between the couple. They had thought that they wouldn’t be able to have any more children. Severus was not a very paternal man by nature. Certainly, he felt a fierce emotion rise in his throat when he thought of Harry. The boy was not his, for Christ’s sake he was practically a James Potter clone, but years ago- out of devotion for Lily- he had begun to view him with affection and, eventually, love. Severus felt fear to begin with, fear for Lily and fear for his unborn child. A paranoid man by nature, for the first three months of the pregnancy he kept a meticulous watch on his wife. His second worry was more superficial. The Snape family genes were not the kindest of stock. He could not bear the thought of something belonging to Lily being afflicted with his Snape nose. Or his sallow complexion. He viewed Lily as entirely perfect, her porcelain skin, silky red hair- and those eyes, like emeralds cut and polished to perfection. Even now when she looked like she wanted to dice his spleen and feed it to Fang before his very eyes she was still as beautiful as she was when he first fell for her…

“I regret it if it seemed like I doubted your capability. Why don’t you go and see if Poppy has succeeded in turning my Snakes back to their usual pasty selves? I shall give Harry a choice, if it pleases you, that muggle idea- grinding did you say?”

Severus tried to say the word muggle without making it sounding distasteful. He knew Lily was awfully intolerant of his politic.

“Grounding, Sev, to be exact. Please remember to use the correct word when you are talking to Harry, I don’t want him that he is being used as a part for one your potions….” Lily trailed off, suddenly remembering that she needed to speak with Filius about Cadogan’s first principle, that faraway look back in her eyes as she began composing some highly convoluted piece of charm related theory in her head. She went back to Harry’s room, tousled his hair and gave him a quick kiss before telling him that he must ‘mind what Father tells him, because what he did was very naughty!’

Severus watched her- grimacing at her frivolous, carefree approach. He supposed that she had no idea how highly toxic a potion her son had brewed, otherwise she’d be screaming blue bloody murder at both him and Harry- because somehow, thanks to some unknown deity, everything was always just as much his fault as Harry’s. Lily kissed him goodbye, he noticed how she didn’t dare tousle his hair, indeed, she gave him a pointed look as if to say ‘use some shampoo next time!’

Severus walked over to Harry’s desk and pulled out the chair. He beckoned the child towards him, and tried not to smile as Harry walked as if he were to meet some horrible fate- snail steps and eyes cast downwards, his bottom lip pouting. Where was his infamous Griffindor courage? When Harry stood in front of him, Snape picked the little boy up and sat him on his lap.

“M’sowwie for kicking you,” Harry muttered under his breath, leaning his head back against Severus’ chest.

“And what is sorry?” prompted Severus expectantly.

“Knowing that what I did was wrong and I shan’t do it again,” finished Harry, all the time looking down at his shoes, unable to look Severus in the eyes.

“What did you do wrong, Harry?” he asked, putting one hand under the boy’s chin to pull his face towards his own.

“Kicked you.”

“Harry…” the impatient tone was beginning to creep back into Severus’ voice.

“Took Mummy’s wand and made a potion on my own. Not allowed to take a wand or go in your potion room thingy on my own. Oh… and I made the Slytherin’s green which was bad cause they’re your favourites,” Harry pouted.

“Harry, you have been told time and time that little boys do not play with other peoples wands. A wand is a very delicate instrument, belonging to whichever witch or wizard it chose. You have no idea what could have happened if your Mother’s wand had had an adverse reaction to you using it to do magic unsupervised. Furthermore, little boys are not permitted to make potions on their own! Not until they are fully-fledged Hogwarts students, brewing under MY supervision. You have stolen, acted foolishly and lied about your actions- you could not have asked to be in more trouble in any one day… Hold on, ignore that, I don’t want you to be getting any ideas about creating more mayhem in an even shorter space of time. Do you understand that I am going to have to punish you for this?”

Some of Severus’ words went over Harry’s head. He reminded himself that there were only a few years before it would become Minerva’s responsibility to berate Harry for whatever stupid stunt he pulled, and that thought made him feel slightly comforted- perhaps he wouldn’t be entirely grey-haired by 35. Then again, he was forgetting about the new baby. For all he knew, it could be as much of a terror as Harry. No doubt it would be, if the boy had his way. A new partner in crime, just what Severus needed. And Merlin help him if Harry ended up in Slytherin- just think of the points the house would lose!

Harry burrowed in Severus’ robes, almost enjoying his Father speaking to him in soft tones and allowing him to sit on his lap for this kind of interaction was usually only experience with Mummy. He didn’t want to be punished. He had thought that his parents’ argument may have sufficiently distracted Severus from finishing off what he started earlier, but luck just wasn’t on his side.

Severus slid Harry off his lap and positioned the boy before him so they would be eye to eye.

“Harry, you have a choice- you can either be confined to our rooms for the next two weeks, save school of course… No flying, no walking through the corridors at your leisure, all your meals served here and bed by 7. Or we can deal with your transgressions here and now and the slate shall be clean…”

Half an hour later Harry asleep in his bed, finally peaceful and comforted after this very tiring day- a thumb jammed in his mouth and his teddy tucked in the crook of his arm. Severus was sitting at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet, a smug smirk on his face as he waited for Lily. He pondered the merits of saying 'I told you so'….