‘James survived, Harry, because he and I were cousins. My mother and James' father were brother and sister. Twins, in fact.'

Though Severus looked relaxed, with his forearm resting along the mantelpiece, and his black eyes fixed upon Harry, nearly every muscle in his body was so tense, he felt as if they would turn to jelly at any moment. His jaw was so tightly clenched, he had to relax it by degrees as he was afraid he would break several teeth.

A wave of annoyance swept through him. This anxiety was ridiculous. He rarely got into this state, even in front of the Dark Lord. And here he was, preparing to tell this scrap of a boy that they were in fact related, and he was ready to wet himself.

Severus's slightly uneasy gaze turned into a glare. He did not like feeling so out of control.

Harry's only reaction to Snape's incredible declaration, was that his mouth dropped open slightly. He stared back at Severus as though he had never seen him before, but he made no effort to move or speak.

It was too much for Severus. He did not like to be left floundering like a fish out of water. He had made the big sacrifice of baring himself to the little whelp, and he just sat there as though Severus had just told him what time dinner would be served.

He began pacing again, but this time, there was much more aggression in every step. After going backwards and forwards about half a dozen times, he stopped directly in front of Harry and threw his arms wide.

‘You have nothing to say Potter? This news is of no interest to you?'

Snape's aggression seemed to act as a catalyst, and Harry leapt to his feet, causing Severus to fall back a step. A second later, Harry was behind the heavy arm chair and Severus found himself retreating backwards even further as the wildly disbelieving boy pushed the chair at him with a fury that saw it travel at least three feet, causing the rug to concertina into about four deep folds.

‘You bastard! Why would you say something like that?' screamed a livid, red-faced Harry.

Severus only just overcame the urge to dive over the chair and grab the little mongrel by the scruff of the neck and shake him until his teeth rattled. Luckily, it struck him that two murderous Snape descendants in the same room would likely lead to the maiming of at least one of them. In this instance, he had to be the bigger man-in more than just a physical sense.

He would deal with the aggressive outburst at a later time, when he could be sure of not killing the little whelp.

‘I say it because it is tr...'

‘YOU LIAR!'

Deep breathes.

‘You forget Professor,' said Harry in a scathing tone. ‘I saw some of your memories during those shitty, Occlumency lessons...'

One...

‘...and I saw your mum and dad fighting, and you looking scared and miserable, as if it happened all the time...'

Two...

‘If your dad was that big a bully, why wouldn't your mum go to her brother-my grandfather...' Harry pocked himself in the chest, ‘...and ask for help?' ‘Why would she put up with that sh...'

‘POTTER!' Severus bellowed so loudly, that Harry fell back a step. But he was silenced, and the look of trepidation on his face made Severus' Death Eater's heart rejoice. If he had allowed his Death Eater instincts to reign supreme over prudence and the fledgling stirrings of something that he was most definitely unwilling to call affection, the boy would, at the very least, find himself on the business end of his belt, or at the worst, be writhing on the floor under the influence of the Cruciatus Curse. Though the second option was doubtful purely and simply because you had to want to cause someone excruciating agony and though the boy pushed everyone of his buttons, Severus did not really want to see such a sight-ever again, let alone be the one to cast the curse. He knew Harry was no stranger to the Cruciatus Curse and he was glad that he had not been witness to a fourteen year old being put through the torments of hell.

But he did need to set some ground rules. A booted foot pushed the chair back to its original position, this time the scraping of the legs on the stone floor set Harry's teeth on edge, and he had to hurriedly step back couple of paces. But neither wizard dropped his eyes. Sparkling emerald burned into matt onyx.

‘Sit. Down!' The order was uttered in a sibilant whisper and Severus was pleased with how calm his voice sounded when it emerged, especially considering how murderous he had felt seconds before.

Harry stood-Severus could see-nearly as tensely as he himself had three minutes earlier. His hands were balled into white knuckled fists. Severus was not at all sure whether or not he was pleased to see that even in his fury, the boy had not even thought of drawing his wand. Such inaction, in other circumstances could prove deadly. If he waited for his opponent to always go for his or her wand first, the boy didn't stand a chance in a world occupied by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

But Harry knew that his temper at its worst was no match for Snapes. Perhaps, with practice and the passing of years there was a slim chance that one day, he could emulate that deadly fury.

But did he really want to end up as nasty and foul tempered as Snape? Harry swallowed and closed his eyes. What a depressing prospect.

God, how he would love to totally defy the git, though. But Gryffindor or not, he just wasn't game to and that fact made him even more furious.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Harry walked around the chair and sank back into its capacious depths, his forearms resting on the chair arms. He stared straight ahead-his line of vision taken up with the black folds of Snape's flowing robes. The fine, summer weight fabric moved as Snape toed the rug back into its original position. His movements were carefully controlled and silence reigned as he lingered over the task of setting the rug perfectly flat.

When he had finished, and before Harry could blink, Snape had covered Harry's hands where they rested on the chair arms with his own, and had leaned forward so that his face was only inches away from Harry's. He tightened his grip on the smaller hands resting beneath his and Harry fought hard not to wince.

His heart in his throat, he tried to shrink backwards, but there was very little give in the chair back. Severus watched the boy's Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. It seemed that the fire of righteous anger had been tamped down. That was good. It would appear the boy had some sense of self-preservation.

‘Listen to me, Potter, and listen well. I still have things to relate to you, and if you cannot hold your tongue until I have finished, I will silence you. And if I have to resort to casting a silencing charm, I may be tempted to keep said charm in place for the next twenty four hours.

‘Perhaps if your mouth is incapable of spouting senseless drivel, your brain might have time to assimilate properly the information I am about to impart. And silence too, may enable you to ponder the supreme idiocy of that rancid diatribe you just subjected me to.' Severus moved in even closer, his large hooked nose now only a quarter of an inch from Harry's more neatly proportioned one.

‘Are you willing to comply with this stricture, or shall I cast a silencing charm now?'

Harry blinked once and tried to swallow the horrible constriction in his throat. Snape wouldn't need a silencing charm because Harry couldn't have spoken at that moment if his life had depended on it. He gave the shortest, sharpest nod possible.

Instead of straightening though Snape moved his face so that his mouth was close to Harry's ear. Though his breath where it tickled his ear was warm, Harry shivered.

‘Before I present certain facts to you that will answer any issue you might have, I pose the question, "why would I possibly want to claim James Potter-and by extension, you-as my cousin if it was not the truth?"'

Seemingly satisfied when he heard the boy audibly gulp, Severus nodded in satisfaction before pushing himself upright and taking up his previous stance at the fireplace. He stood staring down at Harry who refused to meet his eyes. His own were focused on the drinks trolley where a bottle of single malt whisky seemed to hold him in its thrall.

‘First of all, Mr Potter, this has not been an easy admission for me to make. I could have allowed you to go the rest of your life without knowing that we are, in fact, related.

The hand on the chair arm that clenched into a fist asked the question that Harry had been forbidden to voice. Why the hell tell me now then, you snarky bastard?

Severus' lips thinned, as though he had just used Occlumency and seen what Harry was thinking. ‘There are several reasons why I decided to end your blissful state of ignorance. Up to now, our interactions have been anything but harmonious, as I am sure you will agree. But despite the fact that your resemblance to your f...to James influenced my treatment of you, I could never forget my...my friendship with your mother and therefore, whilst openly denigrating you in front of your peers, I did everything that I could to try and keep you safe.

‘Your penchant for finding trouble, I might add, made that a task a battalion of Aurors would have had trouble ensuring.'

Harry shot a basilisk's glare at Snape but then returned his gaze to the fascinating whisky bottle.

Severus continued doggedly. ‘James and I knew of each other long before we started at Hogwarts. His and my mutual dislike was bred from the fact that each of us was determined to remain true to our own parent. They became estranged when my mother met-and for whatever inexplicable reason-fell in love with Tobias Snape.' The last two words were virtually spat, and Harry, surprised, cast a another quick look at Snape, who, at that second, was staring at the empty grate, and so missed it.

‘It seems that though not the most attractive man in Muggledom, my father apparently had the gift of the gab and charm to burn...' A soft snort from Harry had Severus narrowing his eyes, and after several charged seconds during which Harry nervously wondered if Snape's wand would appear, his voice, when he continued, was silky with menace.

‘Yes, Potter, unfortunately for you, charm is not an inherited trait. And for future reference, my strictures of a few minutes ago will now encompass any noise issuing from either your mouth or nose!' Harry, whose colour was just returning to normal, paled again.

‘As I was saying, my mother took her swain...' this word was said with such contempt that Harry was left in absolutely no doubt that Snape really did detest his father, ‘...home to meet her parents and brother. I believe, at this time, the twins were not quite eighteen years old.

‘Though my mother had fallen hard for Tobias, the rest of the Potters were not quite so enamoured. My mother, whilst reasonably attractive, was certainly not anything out of the common way, but she must have had that indefinable aura of having come from a privileged background, or I am sure that my father would have probably just used her and then discarded her as he did many a foolish woman-both before and after he was married.

Severus closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and index finger. ‘My father was an inveterate womaniser, when he was younger-though he eventually eschewed women, deciding that he got more satisfaction from alcohol. Unfortunately, my mother, a very talented witch I might add, was too besotted to see the truth of what Tobias Snape really was at that stage of their relationship.

‘Her mother tried in the beginning, to make her see sense with gentle persuasion, but her father and twin brother had, apparently, loathed Tobias on sight. My grandfather forbade the continuation of the relationship and Adam Potter fought with his sister viciously. They both told her that " the Muggle" was only after her for her wealth and she retaliated by accusing them of being, "Muggle haters".

‘At this stage, my mother had not told Tobias that she was a witch, as it is forbidden to do so under the strictures of the International Statute of Secrecy, until it is certain that the relationship will lead to marriage. However, my father could see, after visiting the Potter Home, that my mother came from considerable wealth, and so, I imagine, the charm factor would have been stepped up a notch or two and Eileen fell even more deeply in love.

‘But things went from bad to worse with the Potters. My mother was miserable, but defiant. My grandmother-your great grandmother was also miserable and apparently tried to get her husband to be more reasonable.' Severus had begun pacing again, seemingly too agitated to continue to appear unaffected by the story he was telling. ‘But, my grandfather and my uncle could see only too clearly that Tobias Snape was a money grubbing leech. And though there was no mistreatment of my mother at this stage of their relationship, my father obviously did not come across as a man equally as besotted with his fiancée as she was with him.

‘Eventually it appears that Tobias did not like the way the wind was blowing-after all, his only ally was Eileen's mother, and even her half-hearted approval was only because she did not want to lose her daughter. In truth, she disliked my father almost as intensely as her husband and son did.

‘It was obvious to all but Eileen that Tobias only continued seeing my mother because of what he hoped to get out of the relationship. He was not going to give the possibility of living a life of luxury up easily.' Here, Severus' eyes narrowed with hatred. ‘So, he got my mother pregnant and they eloped and got married. My mother was eighteen at that stage, so she could legally marry in the Muggle world.

‘Obviously, my father thought that if their marriage was a fait accompli, then his new in-laws would accept him into the fold.' Severus snorted with mirthless laughter. ‘Imagine his shock when the opposite happened. Eileen's father disowned her.'

‘Just like that!' Harry couldn't help himself. It erupted out of him in an indignant burst of protest. And realising what he had done, he clapped a hand over his mouth in the manner of a much younger child, and stared beseechingly at Severus.

Severus found himself caught on the horns of a dilemma. His wand was in his hand; it had been an automatic reaction at the sound of the boy's voice. He had warned him, had he not? He had told him to hold his tongue. But this outburst was not argumentative or scathing. This outburst was indignation on behalf of a woman Harry had never known, a woman who would have been his great aunt had she lived. Harry Potter, the honourable Gryffindor was angry over what he saw as the unfair treatment of a young woman by her family. Severus relaxed his stance and returned his wand to its hiding place within his robes.

Harry sagged bonelessly, but he remained on alert. He kept his gaze on the place where the wand had disappeared with no small amount of trepidation. He was not entirely sure that Severus would not change his mind and cast the charm anyway. After all, when did the man ever not do what he had promised to do?

Severus continued as though the interruption had not happened. ‘Now that I am older-and I would hope, considerably wiser-I can look at the treatment of my mother by her family in a more...shall we say, understanding light.' Severus voice was thoughtful, his gaze far away. He had not resumed his pacing, but was standing with his hands thrust into the deep pockets of his robe.

Harry wriggled forward so that he was sitting on the edge of the chair. His hands were clasped between his knees and his eyes were fixed on Severus, waiting for him to speak again.

‘My grandmother, even in her distressed state did everything she could think of to get my poor besotted mother to see the unsuitability of a marriage to my father. Her father and brother however, were considerably more vocal in their disapproval. Adam told his sister that if she married "that Muggle", he would never speak to her again. He kept his word.

‘When my parents turned up already married, my father wasted no time in informing the Potters that their daughter was pregnant.

‘But Tobias had overplayed his hand.

‘Up to now, my mother's family had been very careful not to use magic around my father. But, now, Adam Potter, lost control and blasted my father across the room and then informed his parents that if they accepted my father into the family, then he would leave and never come back. Obviously, his father had no intention of losing his son. He had already lost his daughter despite his best efforts.' Severus fell silent. His stance was rigid as he stared into the empty grate. He stayed that way for at least half a minute and then, coming back to the moment, he threw himself into the other chair and stared across at a horrified Harry.

Harry licked his lips. ‘My grandfather was a Muggle hater?' he asked in a horrified whisper.

Severus shook his head. ‘No. Your grandfather did not hate Muggles. Neither did his father. They just hated Tobias Snape. For some reason, Adam, along with his father could see everything that my mother was incapable of seeing. They could see the greed and the shallowness and the cruelty that lurked just below the surface. And Adam was angry that his sister had not listened to him...had not heeded his warnings.

"The siblings had always been very close. And apparently, Adam had always been very protective of his twin sister and she, in turn had always looked to him.

‘But to disown her,' whispered Harry. She was their daughter and sister...and she was pregnant.' He was disgusted. ‘Wh...what happened?'

‘My mother had her own share of Potter pride. After witnessing her brother curse her husband, she cast a rather impressive "Bursting Boil" hex at him and then she stormed out vowing to never see them again. She screamed that she needed no-one but her new husband. Tobias, who had just had the shock of his life in discovering that there was something very strange about the Potter family could do naught but follow his wife, particularly as Adam, despite his discomfort, helped him along with a levitation charm.

‘I am sure his despair at seeing his visions of a life of luxury being wiped away before his eyes came much later. His shock at learning that there actually was such a thing as magic and that his wife was a witch superseded all else.

‘My mother refused to see her father and brother ever again. She did however meet up with her mother on occasion. I apparently even met my grandmother before she died, but I was too young to remember. Both women when they could, met up without either husband being aware. My grandmother gave my mother sorely needed money. Galleons exchanged for Muggle money. That money made my mother's life bearable for a while.'

Severus now sat with his elbows on the chair arms and his steepled fingers tapping together in front of his mouth. His black eyes were unfocused and obviously looking into the past. Harry watched him with a mixture of apprehension and sympathy for several minutes. He honestly did not know what to think.

The story had begun in an attempt to prove to Harry that Snape and James Potter were cousins. Which meant that they were cousins. He was actually related to Severus Snape.

And Snape had always known. And so had James. They must have been close in age because they had started at Hogwarts together. And yet, they had loathed each other. And Lily had been close to Snape before she had ever liked his dad. And Snape had saved his dad's life. Harry's thoughts whirled, as if caught up in a tornado. And they were just as chaotic.

Silence reigned as each wizard dealt with his own thoughts. Severus returned to the moment first. He saw Harry staring at the swirls of colour on the rug, his elbows resting on his knees and his clasped hands dangling between his knees. He could not see the boy's face, but he had a perfect view of that inky black, untidy hair, so very like James'. But it was also like his own in colour. The trademark Potter black. Severus had missed out on the trademark untidiness. However, the reason he kept his hair so long, was because if he kept it shorter, it did have a tendency to want to do its own thing.

Rubbing his face, Severus pushed himself from the depths of the armchair. Merlin, he could do with a slug of whisky, but it was only eleven in the morning and it was probably not a wise move for the boy to see him drinking so early. So, with alcohol not being an option, he called, ‘Flintoff!'

Harry had been aware of Snape moving but he remained focused on the rug until the sound of his voice calling for that creepy house elf and the "crack" of its noisy apparation into the dungeon room shocked him into focusing on what was now going on around him.

Snape ordered coffee for two and hot scones with jam and cream. Harry was surprised. He had never seen Snape eating anything sweet before. He even had marmalade on his toast and it was quite a bitter variety.

Snape strode to the dining table where the refreshments appeared almost immediately the elf had departed. ‘Come along, Mr Potter. I think we could do with a diversion, don't you.'

Harry was quite happy to bask in the relative calm and he followed and sat down in the chair that seemed to have been designated his since he had been eating his meals with Snape. The coffee was a milky brew and was quite delicious. Harry wasn't really hungry, but he took one of the fluffy scones and added a spoonful of strawberry jam and a small amount of cream. He watched in amazement as Snape piled liberal amounts of both on his own scone and ate with evident relish.

When he broke a second scone in half, he looked up at Harry who had only just finished his first half and really did not want any more. ‘You're weight gain will be a very protracted affair if you continue to eat so frugally, Mr Potter,' Snape said before taking another bite of the rich confection. He showed Harry just how weight gain could be accomplished (the man himself did not appear to have any surplus fat though his robes were quite capable of hiding a multitude of sins) by polishing off the second scone in very short order.

Severus sighed blissfully when he had finished the last morsel. Harry couldn't help himself. ‘I've never seen you eat anything sweet before, Professor,' he said and then he swallowed nervously when Snape's eyes snapped upwards from where he had been wiping his fingers with a napkin.

‘I indulge myself every now and then, and Devonshire teas, I must admit, are a weakness of mine.' He refilled his coffee cup and seemingly replete, he leaned back and sipped his drink. Professor Dumbledore and I have at least them in common. He can keep the rest of his confections.

Harry looked down at the remains of his own mangled scone. He had been picking crumbs off the edges and they littered the plate. Harry grimaced and pushed the mess away. He studiously avoided Snape's gaze as he wiped his fingers. ‘Um...Professor, can I ask you something?'

‘You may.' Severus had been wondering whether the boy would want elaboration.

‘How did you know all of the details of what you just told me? I mean...well, it seems strange that your mum would have told you so much detail. It must have hurt her to talk about it.'

‘She didn't really talk much about it at all. Just snippets here and there.' For a few seconds, Severus felt anew the overwhelming grief he had experienced when his mother had told him that she was dying. He had been home for the Christmas break, the year before he took the Dark Mark. Her death had been the catalyst that had pushed him fully into the Dark Lord's clutches.

‘Not long before I turned fifteen, my mother knew that she was dying. One of the things she had managed to take from the Potter home when she left for good was a small pensieve. Nothing so impressive as Professor Dumbledore's but it did the job. She had also managed to hide it successfully from my father all those years, as she had her wand-and mine, when she bought it. Otherwise, he would have destroyed them in a drunken rage.

‘But I digress. Knowing that she was dying, my mother allowed me access to her memories. She wanted me to know it all. And so, I relived her misery.' Severus was looking into the past again and his voice, which had been quite matter of fact, now turned bitter again when he added, ‘And every day of that summer break, I lived with her regret. She wanted me to approach James-to mend the broken fences. I am sure she had made up her mind to approach Adam herself when I went back to school. I imagine she did not want me with her in case things got ugly.'

Severus was quiet for more than a minute, he kept his eyes downcast, looking into his cup as though it held the secrets of the universe. Harry was sure he was battling to keep his emotions under control. When he resumed speaking, his voice had a slightly hoarse quality to it. ‘She died within a week of my returning to school, before she could approach her brother, if indeed that is what she had planned to do.

‘I myself had planned to approach James, but like her I had delayed. When I came back to school after her funeral, any feelings of reconciliation I may have been harbouring had been buried with her.

‘We perhaps may have succeeded in burying our ugly past-James was certainly approachable. He offered his condolences.' Another deep breath. ‘But I would have none of it. Bitterness and hatred had taken over my soul now that my mother was dead. I suppose deep down I blamed the Potters for her early demise...for all the suffering she had put up with because she had made the mistake of falling in love with my father.'

Harry's eyes were wide with sympathy and regret-bright with unshed tears-tears for what could have been. Severus looked at him and through his own miserable introspection, he found he could still be exasperated with the child before him. It was no wonder he could not learn Occlumency. Every emotion was there, on his face. He was an open book. How was he supposed to wipe them from his mind when they were right there for all the world to see.

Severus had now harnessed his own emotions, thrust them into the dark crevasse at the back of his mind where he kept them encased in ice. And now he pinned Harry with a very intense stare.

"In answer to your silent question from earlier, Mr Potter...the first reason I have decided to tell you of our relationship is because you are my last, living relative, and having seen you so close to death, it could hardly escape my notice that if you had indeed succumbed to the effects of that terrible poison, I would have no-one left. My last chance-after too many years of idiocy-to do what my mother wished me to do, all those years ago. Mend fences.

‘I did not do it with my cousin...' Harry held his breath. Was he serious? Did Snape really want this, or was he setting Harry up for a fall?

‘...I would like to do it with his son. I would also like to do it with Lily's son. She was one of the only true friends I have ever had. She asked me to help James when no-one else could. I am positive she would be pleased that I have finally told you that we are related. She would be pleased that you know you have a family member in the wizarding world.

‘And I am positive that both she and James would be happy to know that you have someone you can rely on. An adult who can help protect you from the Dark Lord and his servants...within Hogwarts and out.'

Harry swallowed. From everything he knew of his mother, she would certainly want him, her son, to have a relation that he could rely on. But what of his dad? Had he grown up enough before he died to put the needs of his son above his old prejudices against Severus Snape? After Snape had saved his life-something Harry was a little surprised to realise, he had done for both the father and the son-would James Potter have tried to bridge the gap that had kept the two cousins enemies their whole lives, if Snape had not been a servant of the Dark Lords'?

And could he himself get over five years of cruelty and prejudice? Snape had no longer been a Death Eater when he, Harry had started at Hogwarts. He had been working for Dumbledore for a long time. And yet, he had started in on Harry minutes into there first lesson.

Snape had known that Harry was his cousin. For all those years, he had known. But that had not stopped him from deriding Harry at every turn, banishing his potions in his classroom when his work was no worse than the majority of the students, and considerably better than quite a few of them. It had not stopped him from handing out detentions for fictional infringements of the rules...Harry squirmed and scratched the back of his neck...well, not all of them were fictional. He had to concede that...

Severus could practically read the thoughts that were flashing past behind those bright green eyes. And every one of them was valid. He had been an arse to the boy. And he had quietly enjoyed most of it. Sometimes when looking into those hate filled eyes, he had felt a twinge of guilt. Had told himself that this was Lily's boy. And he might have even let up on him for a while after some of these incursions into the realms of guilt. But then he would see James looking at him and his role of tormentor would start all over again.

But he had still protected the boy. Yes, that had mostly been for Lily...but always, in the back of his mind had been the fact that Harry Potter was his last living relative.

But, he could not honestly say if he would have confessed to being the boy's cousin if that small cup full of Paternity potion had not assimilated his blood.

Harry raised his eyes from where he had been watching his middle finger worrying at a hangnail on his thumb. A couple of minutes had ticked slowly by in complete silence. ‘Can I, Professor?' he asked in little more than a whisper.

Severus' brow creased. The question seemed to be disconnected to anything that had gone before. Or had he gone skipping off into introspection again and forgotten what had been said. Most unlike himself. But then, he had been thinking of Lily.

‘Can you what?'

‘Rely on you.'

Black eyes stared into tormented green. As was to be expected, all of Harry's emotions were there for Severus to see. Distress, sadness, distrust, a little bit of fear...and hope. Yes, there was something definitely akin to hope lurking behind all of the other feelings. An internal battle was raging, that was obvious for the world to see. Severus could see the boy's deepest instincts of distrust battling his very real desire to be able to say that he had family other than the loathsome Muggles he was forced to go back to every year. The tormented question, is Severus Snape the Death Eater and spy better or worse than the Dursleys? was written clearly across his face.

‘If you will accept me, Mr Potter, I give you my word that you will always be able to rely on me.' Severus said with all the sincerity he could muster.

The hope shining through the murk created by Harry's negative emotions seemed to blaze for a second before diminishing back to the slight glimmer of a star from a distant galaxy.

‘And even if you do not wish to recognise me as family-and unfortunately, very few in the wizarding world will be able to know of our relationship for quite a long while to come-then I will still do all in my power to keep you safe.'

It was as though Harry could not look away from the austere face that, at that moment was free of smirks and sneers, dislike and disgust. He studied the man sitting opposite him-the man who had saved his life on more than one occasion-and the distant glimmer at the back of his eyes seemed to glow brighter, almost against its will, and despite the clamouring of his deepest, most pessimistic instincts. A family, other than the Dursleys!

He had often dreamed of it as a child; dreamed that someone would come and rescue him from his cupboard, from his life of drudgery and deprivation. But of course, it had never happened. And the little boy had continued to live with his despair.

And then Hagrid had arrived to tell him he was a wizard and to prepare him for Hogwarts. And for a long time, he had thought he was living in a dream. But it was real. And Harry was finally happy; he had friends. Friends who really cared for him. And adults didn't shun him because his relatives dressed him like a hobo and made out that he was a delinquent, and other kids didn't avoid him because Dudley would beat them up if they talked to him.

Most people in the wizarding world looked up to him; but he didn't want that either. He wanted to be a normal kid. And though he had friends that he loved, he did not have a real family. And normal people had families. Normal people's parents were not murdered in cold blood whilst trying to protect their son. And normal people were not the ultimate target of a crazed, murderous maniac.

Normal people also did not have homicidal peers within their school who were after their blood. Nor did they have teachers who hated them just because they were a certain person's son.

Harry's dislike of Snape had been a learned behaviour. He had not gone to his first potions class determined to dislike the man. And even after that first lesson when Snape had ridiculed him in front of half the first years in the school, he had, deep down thought that perhaps he might have deserved the treatment meted out to him.

He had not known the answers. Ron had not known the answers and he had been bought up a wizard. The only one whom he had thought did know the answers was Hermione. But Harry had never taken a survey after that lesson. Perhaps most of the class had known the answers and Snape had had a right to ridicule him. But then again, why just him? And why blame him, totally unfairly, for the first of Neville's disasters in Potions classes, just because he had been nearby.

No, there was no getting away from the fact that Snape had been a total bastard to him right from the off. Even knowing that Harry was his cousin. Perhaps because Harry was his cousin, as well as James' son. How did you get over that sort of treatment?

By burying it deep and focusing on the positives...on the fact that no matter what happened in the future, he had a family member in the wizarding world. He had someone who had always been looking out for him and had promised to continue with his task even if Harry shunned him.

Harry grinned, just a slight quirking of the corner of his mouth that took Severus by surprise. It was one of those instances when the boy's resemblance to himself was pronounced. He raised an eyebrow in question.

‘We'll still fight like cat and dog, won't we?"

Severus stared for a moment and then his own lip quirked infinitesimally. ‘Indubitably.'

‘And you'll still treat me like I'm a bad smell in class?'

Severus paused, but then said, ‘Unavoidable, I am afraid. But I can promise not to overstep the bounds.'

Harry had expected it, but he could not help the little flutter of disappointment that he felt. To cover the moment, he said flippantly, ‘You mean you won't deliberately smash my potion when I hand it in.'

Severus did not do remorseful well and he was not prepared to start now. So, he just inclined his head slightly to indicate that he would at least ponder the matter.

Harry worried at the hangnail for a time, aware that Snape was watching him. Usually, that unblinking, impenetrable stare made Harry feel as if he had ants crawling all over him. Not today though. Today, he knew the man was trying to smooth a path to a better understanding between the two of them. And so, though still not as relaxed as he would be in the company of Dumbledore or Remus or Mr and Mrs Weasley none of whom had ever turned on him, Harry was far from his usual edgy self.

‘Umm...what do I call you?' he asked, his voice slightly anxious, as if afraid that he might have overstepped some invisible line.

Severus was taken aback. He had not really considered this from the boy's point of view. He was having a hard enough time himself trying to decide what to call-what was he? His cousin? His son?-Potter, Mr Potter or Harry. Potter and Mr Potter depended solely on his mood. Harry-well Harry just did not come easily.

And then there was the problem of what the boy would call him if and when he decided to confess that they two were in fact, more than cousins. Best not to allow too much intimacy with the boy calling him Severus when it may well have to change when the new relationship came to light.

Severus sighed, suddenly tired of the whole thing. He felt as emotionally drained as he had done the day the Dark Lord had returned. And equally as unsure of what the future would hold.

‘I think it best that we stick to Professor Snape for the time being. If we get used to something else in private, you may slip up when we are surrounded by a hallway or classroom full of Slytherins.'

With that out of the way and doing his best to ignore the flash of disappointment in the boy's eyes, Severus made a performance of looking at his watch. With his usual brisk movements, he rose to his feet. It would not do to let the boy see that he was emotionally exhausted after all the reminiscences and revelations of the morning.

‘I have work to do Mr Potter. Perhaps you could occupy yourself with some more homework? Which reminds me, I would like to peruse yesterday's efforts at some time. You did finish didn't you?'

‘Yes, Sir,' bit out Harry, disappointed in spite of the fact that he had been expecting just such a response to the question of what they would call each other. He grimaced. Not a good way to be trying to forge a new relationship, Harry. Way to go!

Severus looked at the boy closely, deciding after a few seconds that if it was cheek, he would let it slide. He was letting a lot of things slide today.

‘I will be in my laboratory if you need me,' He strode towards the small laboratory within these rooms rather than to the floo or towards the door to the corridor beyond.

‘Sir!' Severus had just pushed the door open when the boy spoke again.

‘Yes, Potter?' he answered with ill-concealed impatience.

Harry swallowed, but forged onwards. ‘I wouldn't mind if you decided to call me "Harry". In private, that is.' And with those words, he disappeared into the bedroom.

Severus watched Harry disappear and stood staring at the spot where he had been. When he finally entered his own work room, he was clearing his throat of the partial obstruction that had lodged there.