Harry threw down his quill. He hadn't been writing, not for the last twenty minutes anyway. He'd been leaning back in his chair and brushing the feather end backwards and forwards across his chin, his gaze distant and his thoughts now firmly fixed on his Potions professor and the amazing revelations of an hour and a half ago.

Immediately upon entering the bedroom, he had started writing letters-to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. He had started the letters with the intention of telling them everything Snape had told him. But immediately after he had written the salutation to Ron, he had stopped. How did you tell your best mate that the teacher he loathed above anyone else was more than just their hated Potions professor, he was also Harry's cousin.

And as horrified as Ron would be with that information, he would be even more appalled to find out that Harry was not entirely revolted by the idea of having Severus Snape as a cousin. The thing was, Ron would be totally nonplussed with Harry's change of attitude. Perhaps with good reason.

They had both been targeted in Potions classes (as had all of the Gryffindors at some time or another) and they had both learned to hate Snape together. In point of fact, Snape had always reserved his most vicious treatment for Harry and Ron's hatred of Snape had mostly been on Harry's behalf. Yep, he would most definitely find it very difficult to come to terms with Harry's change of attitude.

Ron had never really understood Harry's great desire for a family-well, family other than the Dursleys anyway, and so Ron would hardly think it was worth doing somersaults over the fact that Harry had discovered a hitherto unknown cousin, and especially a cousin in the guise of the Greasy Git, Severus Snape.

No, Ron would certainly not think that was any cause for celebration.

So, after a long hesitation and much soul searching, Harry had written his letter to Ron-and then Hermione and Ginny and had told them everything that had been happening since he had last seen them here at Hogwarts-which in actual fact was not a whole lot when the whole "Snape is my cousin" thing was left out. He decided to take some more time and consider carefully the best approach to take. Face to face with them was probably the best.

As a result of the dearth of news he had to impart, his letter to Ginny, whilst probably not the most romantic missive in the world-as Harry was new to this whole business of having a girlfriend-was at least a little longer and more personal than those he wrote to the other two.

As Harry had sealed the scroll of parchment to Ginny closed, he wondered if there was anywhere that offered lessons on how to be a decent boyfriend, as he didn't really have a clue.

Since finishing the letters though, Harry had not been able to concentrate enough to get on with any homework. Snape's revelations just kept on going around and around inside his head. He did believe Snape; no-one could make up a story like that-and as he had pointed out to Harry early on, why would he even want to, considering his feelings for James?

Harry decided he was going stir crazy. He needed to get out of this dungeon for a while-get some fresh air. He hadn't seen the outdoors since he had crossed the Entrance Hall to get to the Great Hall four days ago, and he had not been in the fresh air since the day he should have caught the Hogwarts Express home.

He had just decided to go and ask Snape if he could maybe spend some time outside, when the door opened with quite a subdued swish-unusual-since it was Snape, of course, who opened it, and it was rare indeed for him to do anything without a flourish.

Harry watched with no small amount of trepidation as Snape's sharp eyes swept across the desk. Of course, he saw nothing more than three, small, furled rolls of parchment and an open text book. There was no evidence of any ink on the pristine parchment slightly to the side of the open Charms text. Harry sat up straight, trying desperately to think up some excuse for his lack of industry. But when Snape looked down his nose and raised that expressive eyebrow-the eyebrow, that on occasions conveyed more than any verbal barrage could-Harry knew any excuse would be a waste of air. Therefore he just sat and waited for the axe to fall.

It didn't.

All Snape said-though in a voice rife with disapproval-was, ‘Luncheon has been served,' before spinning about with the flourish that had been missing when he opened the door, and left it open for Harry to follow.

Harry lowered himself into his chair and looked over the platter of cold chicken and ham, the bowl of salad ingredients and the tray of bread rolls. Snape was already helping himself, so Harry followed his example, pleased to find that he actually felt hungry for the first time in a very long time.

The meal was delicious for all its simplicity, and Harry wondered why more buffet type setups were not the norm during the school year. Snape finished off with coffee and Harry with a large glass of milk.

Harry was trying to decide how to tackle Snape about a trip outside, contemplating one approach and then discarding it for another. Severus could see the internal debate going on behind the boy's almost transparent face. Without actually casting "Legilimens", he could not tell what had the boy-Severus sighed deeply; he had to get used to calling him Harry- stressed out. He was, perhaps, trying to think up some valid excuse for not having made any inroads into his charms homework.

Harry was feeling nervous about making the simple request as he was not sure that Snape would not say "no" just to piss him off. He could feel the old resentment starting to well up inside. OK, so Snape was his teacher, and his healer, and as had been divulged today, his cousin-his older cousin. But Harry could not help feeling peeved that he had to ask Snape's permission to do anything, which, now that he was completely healthy seemed unreasonable.

It was the summer holidays, for Merlin's sake. Even if he was at the Dursley's, he would at least be able to get fresh air when he wanted to. Since the exploding pudding incident before his second year, his uncle and aunt had not attempted to lock him inside again. Oh, yeah, he still had heaps of work to do, but most of it was outside, and that suited him just fine.

Severus continued to watch the internal battle, but when Harry had nearly gnawed his lip through, he decided it was time to step in. ‘If you have something you need to say, I suggest you just get on with it before you draw blood.'

Harry swallowed. ‘Um, I'm sorry I didn't start any homework, but I'm starting to suffer from Cabin Fever...' At Snape's raised eyebrow, Harry waved his hand and said, ‘Muggle thing. It means having been locked inside for too long...' Harry rushed on, determined to get everything out before he was shot down in flames.

‘Anyway I'd like to spend some time outside, if that's OK. If you really insist on me doing some work today, I can do it outside in the fresh air.' All of this was said very fast indeed, and for future reference, I do know of the Muggle saying, "cabin fever", being half Muggle as I am sure you recall.

Harry felt stupid. He was so used to explaining Muggle things to Ron.

‘I suppose that your request is reasonable,' said Severus in a contemplative tone. ‘But how do you know it's not pouring with rain?'

Harry's face fell comically and Severus had to fight to hold in a smirk.

‘I don...is it?'

With a sigh, Severus placed his coffee mug down and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at a small mirror on the wall next to the door leading to the rest of the dungeons that Harry had always wondered about. He couldn't believe it was there for Snape to check his appearance just before he departed his rooms. Snape didn't seem the type to preen in front of a mirror, and if he did, then it wasn't working.

‘Metorio,' Severus incanted, and the mirror surface began to shimmer. A few short seconds later, the reflection of the wall and part of the ceiling Harry could see from his position at the table coalesced into a brilliant, bright cerulean blue which was interspersed with fluffy puffs of clouds floating above the tops of trees that moved infinitesimally in what was obviously, the slightest of breezes.

Harry grinned. ‘Brilliant.' Severus just refrained from rolling his eyes. The boy was easily excited. ‘So, can I go outside?'

‘"May" I go outside?'

Harry did roll his eyes. ‘Yeah, what you said.'

Severus did not look amused. ‘Your smart mouth is hardly conducive to a positive outcome, Po...' Severus bowed his head. ‘...Harry.

Harry blinked. So, he was going to try. He felt absurdly pleased. He had told Snape to call him Harry if he wanted to. He must want to...well, at least want to try. Surely the fact that he had told Harry about their relationship must point to his wanting them to be closer.

Still, Harry supposed Snape had to get used to things being different just as much as he did after five years of "Potter".

‘Sorry,' Harry said. ‘I didn't mean to dish up a mouth full of cheek.'

Severus pinned him with those fathomless eyes. ‘Some habits are very difficult to break.'

Harry's brow furrowed. He didn't think he liked that statement. ‘I don't always dish up a mouth full of cheek, you know?'

The eyebrow did some more callisthenics. ‘You think not?'

‘Yeah, I think not!' Harry responded hotly. ‘If I do it more than I should around you, it's only in response to the way you've treated me over the years.'

‘Am I treating you badly now?'

Harry couldn't let it go so easily. ‘Not badly, as such. But you are trying to run my life.'

‘You have been ill, you foolish child. I am doing what needs to be done to get you well and keep you that way.'

‘But I am well. You said it yourself. Everything's fine now except I'm a bit anaemic still.' Harry stood up and started pacing back and forth, much like Severus had done earlier in the day but without the impressive movement of voluminous robes to give that dramatic effect.

‘I shouldn't have to ask permission just to go outside and get a bit of fresh air. I should be able to write to my friends without feeling guilty for not doing the homework you told me to start on.'

Snape banged his hand down on the table. ‘The homework has to be done,' he bit out angrily.

‘I know! But it's the second week of the holiday's and I haven't had a holiday yet. Unless you think me being in a coma constitutes a holiday.'

Severus too stood and stalked across the room. His destination was the drinks table. Blast the boy to hell and back. Today had been more than he could reasonably be expected to take without some kind of bolster. He poured a large measure of single malt and swigged half of it down. The boy was literally driving him to drink.

‘Your being in a coma might not have been a holiday for you,' said Severus before throwing the rest of the whisky down his throat. ‘But it certainly was for me.'

Harry couldn't help it. Those words really hurt. But he would roast in hell before he let the bastard know that. ‘May I go outside?' he asked through gritted teeth, his throat hurting as he tried to swallow the scream of hurt and rage that was lodged there.

‘After this performance?' sneered Severus.

Harry stalked past Snape who was looking into his tumbler trying to decide whether he needed more fortification. He disappeared into the bedroom where he snatched up the three scrolls of parchment. He was getting out of here even if he had to floo the headmaster to ask permission. He walked stiffly back into the sitting room.

‘If I'm outside, I'm out of your hair. Surely that consideration must override your desire to thwart me.'

Severus wanted to flail the little snot to within an inch of his life. Yes, he definitely needed more fortification. ‘You expect me to give you permission to leave these rooms after the way you have been behaving?' he said with supreme disdain.

‘I don't need your bloody permission,' yelled Harry. ‘You're not my father!'

Severus' head snapped up from where he was concentrating on the task of pouring more whisky. The bottle slipped from his fingers and crashed onto the wooden surface of the table. The tumblers were scattered and two of them fell to the stone floor and smashed into tiny pieces.

Harry stared, appalled at the damage. Then his eyes lifted and he stepped back till his back came up against the wall. Snape was even whiter than usual. His lips were hardly distinguishable in that white mask...the only things that were alive were those coal black eyes which glittered with some emotion that Harry couldn't fathom.

With a supreme effort, Severus got himself under some semblance of control. Turning his head back to the devastation before him and taking deep controlled breaths, he righted the bottle. A wave of his wand dispensed with the spilled liquid and a Reparo saw the fragments of glass fly back together and the two tumblers were levitated back onto the table. Severus daren't look at the boy again for fear of what he would do to him.

‘You had best get out of my sight,' he said in deadly tones, ‘before I do something for which we will both be sorry.'

Harry didn't have to be told twice. He bolted for the door.

‘Potter! If your wish is to get lost in these dungeons, just keep on heading out that door.'

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion.

‘You may not have a clear memory-indeed, I have always found that to be the case-but your last foray through the dungeon corridors was undertaken in my company. And as you were far from well at the time, I cannot imagine that you have memorized the route.'

Harry spread his arms wide and then let them slap back to his sides. He was wary of infuriating the man any further but why didn't he just get to the point. ‘Well, how...'

Severus pointed his wand at the logs in the grate and they burst into flame. ‘You will floo to the Great Hall and then it is just a short walk to the front door.

‘As I imagine that you are going down to see Hagrid, be sure you do not allow him to damage any more of your internal organs, nor indeed, break any ribs.

‘And as I presume you wish your owl to deliver those letters...' Snape nodded curtly at the rolls of parchment clasped tightly in Harry's hand, ‘...you will summon her to you. I forbid you to go anywhere above the ground floor in the castle. And you will venture no further than Hagrid's hut. Do I make myself clear, Potter?' The last was delivered in a voice that suggested Snape was talking to someone who was mentally subnormal.

Harry fumed in impotent silence. ‘Yes, Sir.' He wasn't game to say more as Snape was just as likely to stop him from going. He stalked to the fireplace and reached for the floo powder.

Snape grabbed Harry's forearm before he could pick up any of the glittering, green powder. Harry had had it. He tried to twist his arm from the implacable hold, but Snape just tightened his grip-painfully.

‘Do not even think about disobeying me, Potter. You will not like the consequences.' He loosened his hold enough for Harry to be able to pull free. With cheeks burning with embarrassment and fury, Harry grabbed the powder, and threw it into the flames. He yelled, "Great Hall", louder than he needed to in an effort to dispel some of the anger that was making him feel like he would explode.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888

As soon as the boy had spun away in the green flames, Severus allowed his rigid stance to relax. He sank into a chair and his head to fell back so that he was staring at the ceiling.

What in the hell had happened? They had been getting along reasonably well. He had even managed to refrain from chastising the boy for not making any inroads into his Charms homework. He had allowed that the mornings revelations had more than likely occupied the boy's mind to the exclusion of all else. Well, all else but letters to the buffoon, the know-it-all and the girlfriend.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He knew he was being unnecessarily harsh. Ronald Weasley was no more a buffoon than many another child in the school-most of them Gryffindors, admittedly. And Granger-well, she was a know-it-all, but then again, she did know it all. Well most of it, anyway. And the girlfriend? Well, it would be interesting to see where that went. Ginevra Weasley was much more easily tolerated than most of her brothers. Bill and Charlie Weasley were the best of the boys, though Severus did concede that that opinion might be a matter of hindsight. They had both turned out well though and were useful members of the Order of the Phoenix. In fact, Bill had proved remarkably easy to get along with.

As far as I can get on with anyone.

Potter was definitely not going to suffer for a lack of people who cared for him-in the wizarding world at least. And it was obvious that the boy in turn, cared deeply for his friends and all the Weasley family.

Harry could have done worse than the petite redhead as a girlfriend. She was bright and attractive and she was the youngest child and only daughter of the family who had practically adopted Potter. She could be the one to make him pull in his head because it seemed that he, Severus was not very likely to succeed on that front.

Severus supposed that at nearly sixteen, Potter's hormonal activity was at its peak and the mating cry would be loud and strong. It was not surprising therefore, that he was, at last, attached. Severus had never noted that the boy was enamoured with any other female, though he had quite a few female friends. Several of his colleagues had taken to betting on whether Potter or Weasley would end up with Granger. Most had backed Potter. But Severus had never thought that would be the case. Potter seemed to spend a fair proportion of his time being the mediator between Weasley and Granger and their constant bickering. This constant bickering was, in Severus' opinion a good indicator that those two would end up the couple-if the girl did not have the sense to look further afield for someone more worthy of her intellect.

But whether Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger ended up together was immaterial. Potter was as close as a brother to the pair of them, and with the rest of the Weasleys also there to offer support and affection, Severus wondered why he was trying so hard to build up any kind of a relationship with the boy.

After the agony of telling him of their relationship, and the not unexpected tantrum early on, Severus had been surprised at how easily and quickly Harry had accepted everything. He had hoped that perhaps they would be able to rub along together with a modicum of harmony. He had even thought that it might be possible after all, for him to divulge the closer relationship that they shared without Harry going off the deep end.

But it would appear that any thoughts of further confession would have to be put on hold, after all. Oh, he had not had any intention of divulging this more shocking news immediately on the heels of the other. But he had hoped to get it out of the way soon.

It did not seem as if this would be the case. Perhaps he should just leave the boy to the Weasleys and their cloying brand of affection. With Arthur Weasley on hand, and the older boys Bill and Charlie, Potter hardly needed a father, did he?

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Harry sat on the cobblestones at the base of the wall that surrounded the courtyard. His head was resting on his bent knees and he was gazing off into the distance. He had been out of the dungeon for nearly four hours and in that time he had become reacquainted with Hedwig and sent her off with his letters and then he had spent several hours with Hagrid.

Immediately upon being expelled rather forcefully from the massive fireplace in the Great Hall, Harry had sprung to his feet and bolted from the castle. Once outside, he had walked around the castle until he was standing at the base of the Owlery.

When Harry had called for his beautiful snowy owl, she had soared from the tower within seconds. She had landed on his shoulder and nipped his ear in affectionate greeting. Master and owl had spent about half an hour together before Harry had sent her off with his letters.

Hagrid had immediately burst into tears upon finding Harry on his front doorstep. When Fang had tried to launch himself at Harry Hagrid had hauled him back, but the tears had kept falling. It had taken Harry over half an hour to calm his friend down and in the end, he had told Hagrid that he would kill for a cuppa, and one of his rock cakes. This had distracted Hagrid as Harry had known it would because the half giant wasn't happy unless he was shoving food down Harry's throat.

‘Yer need fattnin' up,' was his constant refrain and by the time the kettle had boiled, Hagrid was back to his normal, cheerful self, though Harry noticed that the half-giant didn't touch him in any way. This was an unusual circumstance as Hagrid was a very tactile person and it just wasn't natural for him not to hug or, at the very least, clap Harry on the back.

In an effort to spare Hagrid's feelings, Harry had even managed to feed his rock cake to Fang whilst Hagrid's attention was diverted. Harry's delicate digestive tract was not up to any of Hagrid's cooking at the moment. Even when he was well, the rock cakes took a lot of nerve to tackle.

After the teapot had been drained and Harry had refused more rock cakes, he had watched as Hagrid tended an injured hippogriff that was tethered behind the pumpkin patch. It had apparently been in a fight with another male and had sustained several very nasty bites and kicks. It was amazing that such a huge man could be so very gentle. But when overwhelmed by emotion as he had been when he had injured Harry, he could forget how very strong he was.

The time had passed far too quickly and when Hagrid had had to go off into the forest to check on a pregnant thestral who was, quite amazingly, expecting twins, Harry had said goodbye. According to Hagrid, a twin pregnancy was a very rare phenomenon amongst thestrals. Harry would have loved to go into the forest with him but with Snape's admonitions still loud in his ears, he had resisted the temptation.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

‘Enjoying the sunshine Harry. Professor Dumbledore was walking across the cobblestones, his long shadow creeping over Harry where he still sat leaning against the wall. Harry scrambled to his feet.

‘Professor, I...'

Dumbledore held up his hand. ‘My dear boy. I am not here to admonish you.' He perched himself on the wall and indicated Harry should join him. Not having quite such long legs as the headmaster, Harry hoisted himself up. He wasn't sure he believed that Dumbledore wasn't there to admonish him, though what he could have done wrong he had no idea. Unless...Dumbledore must have been to see Snape otherwise how would he know he was out here. Harry stared at the front door of the castle, unable to look his headmaster in the eye.

‘You have some letters? Good I'm glad your friends are writing to you.'

Harry looked down at the rolls of parchment clamped in his slightly sweaty hand. He had forgotten he was holding them. ‘Yes,' he answered, now turning to look at Dumbledore. ‘Hedwig had them up in the owlery. I was wondering why they weren't delivered directly to me.'

‘Ah. That, my boy is somewhat of a mystery.' Harry's brow furrowed and Dumbledore chuckled. ‘For reasons that no-one knows, post owls cannot seem to navigate the labyrinthine passages of the dungeons.'

‘But owls must have an amazing sense of direction,' argued Harry. ‘They can find anyone, anywhere.'

‘Perfectly true Harry. They are amazing creatures. Perfectly ordinary birds out in the wide world, though a particularly interesting species. But as soon as they are owned by a magical person, they seem to bond and part of that person's magic latches onto them. Not only are they very handy delivering letters to all and sundry, they are also extremely loyal to there owner. But, of course, as with all species, we humans included, some are more intelligent than others.'

Harry listened, fascinated. Nobody had ever explained how post owls did what they did. ‘Hedwig's really intelligent,' he boasted proudly. ‘She once went of her own volition, to Hermione when she was holidaying in France because she was worried that I wouldn't get any birthday presents. Hermione said she just turned up.'

Dumbledore patted Harry's knee. ‘Yes, Harry, I agree. Hedwig is a truly magnificent and exceedingly intelligent bird. ‘But as far as negotiating the dungeon corridors goes, even she would be defeated. We presume it must have happened back in the days of the founders, because as far back as anyone can remember-and that includes the very old and venerable Hogwart's ghosts -it has not been possible for post owls to descend further into the dungeons than Professor Snape's office.

‘It appears that some sort of charm was cast, for no bird is able to fly down there. It is as though they come up against an invisible barrier if any do try-and I am not just talking about owls, Harry, but other birds that may accidentally fly into the castle when the doors are open-and they meet this barrier and turn round and leave.'

Harry shook his head. ‘Weird.'

‘I do not think it so weird. I think perhaps an animal lover might have done just such a thing. Perhaps after finding some dead birds that could not find their way back out of the dungeons. It is dark and dank as you know and it is not a normal habitat for our feathered friends. Helga Hufflepuff was known to be an animal lover. I like to think it was she who cast the charm to protect all birds. She was especially accomplished in Charms.'

Harry grinned at Dumbledore. ‘Is it written down somewhere that you have to learn everything there is to know about the castle when you become headmaster,' he asked in all seriousness.

Dumbledore chuckled again. ‘No Harry. It is not a prerequisite of the job. But Hogwarts has always fascinated me and I do not find it a chore to look into her history. But what I have just told you is purely conjecture and unverifiable, but in my humble opinion, Helga Hufflepuff was the most likely person to have cast such a charm.'

The very old and the very young wizard sat in companionable silence for several minutes, both gazing at the truly magnificent structure before them, and both feeling her pull. Harry had loved Hogwarts from the moment he had set eyes upon her. Before really, for though he had never admitted it to anyone, he had read "Hogwarts a History", as soon as he had gotten back to the Dursleys with his textbooks after Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley. As soon as he had opened the book, he had fallen under Hogwart's spell.

He hadn't ever admitted it to Hermione because she seemed to get great delight out of telling him and Ron all she knew, and Ron would just think he was a "dork" if he knew that Harry had spent several days (in between doing chores) lying on his bed and reading a school reference book.

When Dumbledore spoke again, Harry jumped, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

‘So, Harry, Professor Snape has finally revealed your familial connection?'

Harry's head spun around to face Dumbledore. ‘Did you know, Professor? Did you know Sn...Professor Snape and my dad were cousins?'

‘Yes, Harry, I knew. And before you accuse me of keeping you in the dark, my boy, I will just point out that it was not my story to tell. It was up to Severus to tell you...or not.'

‘But that hardly makes it fair,' burst out Harry, unable to subdue his anger. ‘it was his story to tell because he knew it. I was the one left in the dark, but I was part of the story. I should have been told as it concerned me.'

Dumbledore sighed. ‘Oh, Harry. Do you think you would have been better off knowing before now? I am sure I do not have to tell you that Professor Snape's early life was far from ideal and unfortunately, he made a lot of wrong choices. Bitterness and vindictiveness fed his soul for a long time. It is doubtful that he would have made more of an effort to treat you fairly before now.

‘And, in fact, if you had known from the beginning, that harsh treatment would have affected you in a very different way. Not knowing of your relationship allowed you to fight back as far as you could; you did not allow it to get you down unduly. Knowing...well I am afraid that knowing may have hurt you to a great extent and you would not have been able to get past the hurt enough to hold your own.'

Harry pondered these words but he could still not help feeling bitter. Snape had deliberately picked a fight, and for the most ridiculous reason. What did it matter that he had said, "can I" instead of ‘may I"? He knew the difference but he had been speaking, not writing an essay, for God sake.

‘I have to wonder why Sn...Professor Snape bothered to tell me at all. He's not happy about it. He says that my nearly dying made him realize that he would have no family left. But he doesn't seem to want a family.

‘He just can't get over his hatred of my dad, even though he said my dad seemed to be ready to let things go. But his mum had just died and he seems to have blamed my dad's father for that rather than his own father.' Harry sounded sad and defeated. ‘And I just don't think he'll be able to get around that...ever.'

Dumbledore put a long arm around Harry's hunched shoulders in a hug. ‘Harry, it is not going to be easy. It is not going to happen over night. But I do believe that Severus wants to change. I do believe he would acknowledge you if he were able. You, my boy, are going to have to be the patient one, because patience is not one of Severus' virtues.

‘You are nearly sixteen and have an infinite capacity for love because it is the one thing that you were deprived of in your childhood.' Harry squirmed uncomfortably at these words, as he had every time Dumbledore had alluded to them in the past.

‘Severus is thirty-six and has lived with his bitterness and disillusionment for the majority of that time. It will not be easy for him to change. You must believe that he wants to though.'

Harry sighed. He wanted to believe, he really did. But it just seemed that his mere presence set the grouchy git off. ‘Professor Dumbledore, maybe if I stay in Gryffindor tower for a while, give Professor Snape back his privacy. I'm better now. I don't need constant monitoring. Maybe if he has some distance, he'll be able to better tolerate me. You know the saying; "Absence makes the Heart grow Fonder".'

Bur Dumbledore was already shaking his silvery head. ‘I'm afraid I cannot allow that Harry. I would much prefer you to be with an adult...'

‘But Professor McGonagall could...'

‘No, she couldn't Harry. Professor McGonagall is away from the castle at the moment nursing her sick sister and whilst she makes fleeting visits, she is only here for short periods of time.'

Harry's shoulders drooped. He really didn't want to go back to Snape's dungeon rooms.' ‘But it's not fair on Professor Snape. I'm keeping him out of his bed. He won't let me sleep on the couch. Even though he transfigures it into a bed for himself.

‘Ah,' said Dumbledore, standing up and arching the kinks out of his back. ‘Severus and I have seen to that problem. Come along, my boy. We should be getting back. And there is a surprise waiting for you.'

Surprise or no, Harry's disinclination to return to the dungeon was obvious as he lagged behind Dumbledore. They entered the castle and were crossing the flagstone floor of the entrance hall when Argus Filch stepped out of a doorway under the marble staircase. The ever present, Mrs Norris was at his feet.

Filch stopped when he saw Harry and the expression on the caretaker's face darkened. He was one of the ugliest men Harry had ever seen and that was saying something as he had lived with Uncle Vernon for most of his life and he had always had the title before Harry met Filch.

He had a constantly dripping, red bulbous nose and his unshaven, sunken cheeks were covered in broken veins. His rheumy eyes were so pale as to be almost colourless, except for the whites, which were usually red. At the moment, they were narrowed with dislike and malice.

His ears were very large-not protuberant but huge. He wore false teeth that were far too big for his mouth and the top ones kept falling down when he talked and if he was angry, which he was most of the time, he nearly lost them entirely when he raged.

Even though it was a warm, summers day, the man wore an old threadbare corduroy jacket and he had a tartan scarf wrapped around his skinny neck.

Harry looked away. Severus Snape was not the only person within Hogwarts to hate Harry. Filch hated him also and Harry was pretty sure that was because this horrible, sadistic man was in collusion with Snape when it came to ferreting out wrongdoers amongst the students. Neither needed proof of any misdeed to give the poor unfortunate student some sort of odious punishment that rarely fitted the crime. That was considering a crime had been committed in the first place and was not just a figment of either man's imagination.

Harry had never been able to figure out why Dumbledore-a man known for his benevolence and fair mindedness when it came to dealing with the young witches and wizards in his charge-kept Filch on when his idea of a suitable punishment for the most minor infringement, would not have seemed out of place during the Spanish Inquisition.

Filch hadn't yet seen Dumbledore but the headmaster now stepped back into view. The nasty expression reserved for Harry became obsequiously servile when he caught sight of the headmaster.

‘Argus. Back so early from your holiday?'

Filch gave a curt nod. ‘Aye, Sir. The weather on the coast was shockin'. Wet and bleedin' cold, and Mrs. Norris hated it. Also, the soddin' neighbours bought a dog and the ruddy thing didn't stop barkin'. Mrs Norris was in a real state the whole time.'

‘Unfortunate,' commiserated Dumbledore. ‘But I was under the impression that you were quite isolated, that your holiday shack was quite a way away from the nearest neighbour.'

‘Well it is. About half a mile, but that blasted dog was loud. Like that mongrel of Hagrid's.' Harry scowled. He'd take Fang over Mrs Norris any day of the week.'

‘Now, now Argus. Hagrid has his pet and you have yours. One is in the castle and the other at the far end of the grounds,' placated Dumbledore. Filch bared those horrible teeth in a rictus of disapproval before turning on his heel to leave.

‘Oh, just one thing, Argus. Mr Potter will be a guest at the castle at different times during the summer break.'

Filch's shoulders stiffened but he just nodded to Dumbledore and ignored Harry completely before stomping off.

‘Mr Filch didn't look too happy about me being here,' said Harry. Dumbledore chuckled as they crossed the Great Hall.

‘Ah, poor Argus. He's not at all fond of children, I'm afraid.'

‘Then what's he doing working in a school?' burst out Harry angrily. And then when he realised that he might have sounded a bit rude, he added, ‘Umm, not that it's any of my business, Sir.'

Dumbledore looked down his long, crooked nose at Harry. ‘Mr Filch is a special case, Harry. His bark is far worse than his bite.'

‘But all those shackles and chains he's got in his office. He'd hang any of us up by our thumbs without blinking. He's a sadist!'

‘Mr Filch has to get my permission before he can apply any form of physical punishment, Harry. And I would never give my permission, as I am sure you must know.'

‘But where does he get these medieval ideas of punishment from? Are the kind of things he wants to do to students legal in the wizarding world? Any person in the Muggle world would be arrested for just having some of that stuff in their possession.'

Dumbledore took up a pinch of floo powder. There was already a fire burning in the grate. ‘No, Harry, it is not legal in the wizarding world to torture children.'

Harry wasn't sure about that though. He didn't think children could be overly protected by the powers that be in the wizarding world. Fudge would have been quite happy to have been able to throw him into Azkaban if he had been found guilty of flouting the decree for the restriction of underage wizardry when he had produced a patronus to get rid of dementors last summer. It seemed that the ministry could do what they liked with little regard to the laws already laid down. And it would not have mattered that he had only just turned fifteen at the time of the incident.

Harry had been helpless. Fudge and his cronies had even tried to trick Dumbledore into being late for the hearing. Without Dumbledore, Harry knew he would probably be in Azkaban right now. And if he had not been sentenced to Azkaban, then he would have been expelled from Hogwarts.

Another problem with wizarding justice in Harry opinion was that no matter the crime, all "wrongdoers" ended up in Azkaban. He, might have ended up in the same prison as murderers and torturers for a case of underage magic. It was ridiculous.

Dumbledore threw floo powder onto the flames and Harry stepped into the flames and cried, ‘Professor Snape's rooms.'

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Severus heard the roar of the floo from his laboratory. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to face the boy again.

Dumbledore had firecalled him and asked to come through minutes after Harry had left. Severus had been glad of someone to talk to and he had unloaded on his old friend for over an hour.

After he had related the revelations of the morning and Harry's reaction to them, Dumbledore had been greatly heartened, telling Severus that he had been sure of just such an outcome as Harry had an overpowering need to be like everyone else-to be accepted for who he was and to have a family who cared for him. The old man had pinned Severus with those penetrating eyes when he had said the last.

Severus had not met that gaze but had gone on to relate the later incidence of discord between himself and Harry whilst gazing into the fireplace. The headmaster's sage advice had been more utterances along the lines of practising patience and tolerance.

He is the teen, Severus. You are the adult. You have had your time of being an angst ridden adolescent. Now, it is Harry's turn. We cannot change the stage of life he is going through, we can only try to make it easier for him and try to be modify his bad moods by applying reasoned argument with patience and the understanding of people who have already been through those trying times.

Remembering also that the child has been in the spotlight since entering our world and before that he might well have been invisible-certainly inconsequential to the family who brought him up. He has more reason for bouts of teenage angst than anyone else that I know.

You have been there, Severus and made many wrong choices when you were there. Help Harry make the right choices. His life is only going to become more and more difficult and he needs adults in his life who can help him through. And adults in his life who care about what may happen to him.

You do care, don't you Severus?

Of course, Severus hadn't answered the last. Did he care? Care for Harry Potter? Care for his son? All he knew for certain was that he no longer hated the boy. And all he knew for certain was that he would do all in his power to protect him and to help prepare him for the finale that Dumbledore was convinced was the boy's destiny.

Though how in the hell the child was supposed to be the downfall of evil personified a second time, Severus did not know. The first time had been truly miraculous-a fifteen month old baby, for God sake. A fifteen month old baby whose mother had died rather than let him be killed in front of her. A frantic mother who must have known that her son would be killed as soon as she was out of the way.

But she had not even considered living while her baby died. She had to have known that her husband was already dead. She could not have known that her son would survive. Lily Potter would not have wanted to live with both her husband and her son dead. Her choice had been a simple one because the one thing Lily Evans did not lack, was courage.

And it was that courage and her overpowering love for her son-their son, his and James' and Lily's son-that had saved his life.

For a long time, Severus had been angry and bitter that the beautiful and vibrant Lily Evans had sacrificed herself for a baby who had not had a chance at life; who did not know what he would be missing out on.

Now, in retrospect, Severus could see that Lily had really had no choice. Apparently, a mother's love could not be measured by any means known to man, nor indeed, wizard kind.

888888888888888888888

Severus entered the sitting room as Harry was straightening up after spilling out of the floo. How could someone who flew with such finesse and looked as at home in the air as a bird, not be able to step from a floo without landing on all fours?

Harry spotted Snape as he scrambled to his feet. He turned aside and tried to brush the soot off himself. Dumbledore stepped out of the fire with his customary grace and Harry hoped that he would be able to do that one day because he knew that he would get tired of the alternative very quickly.

Harry suddenly remembered that Dumbledore had said there was a surprise waiting for him. He surreptitiously looked around but he could see nothing out of the ordinary.

Severus knew it was up to him to break the stalemate between himself and Harry and Dumbledore looking pointedly at him over the top of his glasses reinforced that knowledge. Harry was looking anywhere but at him and Severus noticed the crumpled up rolls of parchment still clutched in his hand.

‘You did not send your letters?' When Harry looked at him in confusion, Severus indicated the letters with a nod of his head. ‘If you could not find your own owl, you could have used a school owl, you know.'

‘These are letters from my friends. Hedwig had them in the owlery because she couldn't get down here to deliver them. Professor Dumbledore explained why.'

‘Ah.' Severus nodded once. ‘I had not thought about mail coming for you. If I had, I would have checked the owlery. I'm sorry.'

Harry was surprised. Snape apologising? He had not thought that would happen and though it wasn't an apology directly related to their earlier altercation, Harry wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

‘That's OK. I didn't really think about mail either. Anyway, Hedwig might not have let you have them.'

‘The birds know when someone is acting on their owner's behalf, Harry,' said Dumbledore. ‘It is part of their innate attachment to their master or mistress.'

‘Oh,' said Harry, and then gathering up his pride, he blurted, ‘I'm sorry about the fight we had earlier. I'll try not to antagonise you.'

Severus crossed his arms, pulling his robes more tightly about himself. ‘I too am sorry Harry. I shall endeavour not to correct you every time you open your mouth.'

Harry grinned. ‘Does that mean that every time I open my mouth, I say something wrong?

Dumbledore chuckled and Severus could not restrain his own lips twitching in amusement. ‘Not every time, no. just most of the time. But with the passing of years, the tendency may pass.'

Harry's grin widened. ‘Hagrid sends his best, by the way and wishes me to point out to you that I am hale and hearty after our visit.' The eyebrow rose as though its owner knew he was being mocked but there was no answering sally because Dumbledore clapped his hands together to get both their attention.

‘I think it is time that we show Harry his new accommodations, Severus.'

Harry looked from one to the other, confused. Professor Dumbledore had told him he had to stay with Snape for the time being. If they had found somewhere else for him to stay within the castle, why couldn't it be Gryffindor tower?

Maybe Snape was prepared to move to other accommodations above the ground whilst he was in charge of Harry's welfare. Harry had to admit that a window or two wouldn't go astray. As comfortable as these rooms were, Harry missed being able to see the outdoors.

‘But you sa...' But Dumbledore had raised his wand and pointed it at the wall on the far side of the dining area-the same wall where the door to Snape's lab was situated. Dumbledore seemed to be drawing in mid air but not a word escaped his lips. Harry watched, amazed as another door appeared at the other end of the wall.

Snape looked at Harry as Dumbledore lowered his wand. ‘Your new bedroom, Harry.' He indicated that Harry proceed him and Dumbledore. Harry didn't need a second invitation. He skirted around the dining suite and after a slight hesitation, he put his hand on the door knob, and turned it.

The room was nowhere near the size of the one he had been sleeping in but it was at least half as big again as his room at the Dursleys. He gazed around at the light coloured timber furniture. It all matched. There was a single bed, a bedside dresser with three deep drawers, a tallboy with another five drawers, a wardrobe and a desk and chair. The walls were unadorned except for another mirror that was a little larger than the one near the "front" door.

The quilt was the same as the ones in Gryffindor tower but the bed wasn't a four poster and there were no curtains surrounding it. He didn't need curtains though, because he could shut the door to ensure his privacy.

Harry's trunk was already at the foot of the bed and when he opened the wardrobe door, his robes and school shirts and trousers were already hanging and his other things were neatly put away in the drawers. There was another door between the wardrobe and the tallboy and when Harry opened it, he found a small bathroom equipped with shower, hand basin and toilet.

Harry took it all in; he sat on the chair and then bounced lightly on the bed. He looked in the mirror but all it showed was his reflection. He would have to ask if it was enchanted like the one in the sitting room. He looked through the drawers in the desk and found parchment and quills. His school books were lined up neatly on a shelf attached to the wall above the desk.

Harry sat on the bed again and clasped his hands between his knees, staring at the floor. His feet were resting on a burgundy and gold rug. The room was brilliant. If Ron ever saw it-if he ever got over his hatred of Snape enough the set foot down here and if he was ever allowed into Snape's private domain-he would be so jealous.

But as Harry sat and looked at the floor, it was not the room he thought about, it was what it represented. Acceptance and permanence. Snape was really making an effort. He must want Harry to look on him as family. And as far as permanence went-well, you didn't create a room out of nothing and then fill it with handsome furniture and Gryffindor colours if you didn't want your guest to use it.

Guest. Was he just a guest, or did Snape mean for this to be Harry's room during the holidays-his home? Did this mean that he didn't have to go back to the Dursleys again. Surely all of this hadn't been done just for the short term. He and Snape could have gone on as before if his days here were numbered. Harry knew that it could be undone again just as quickly with magic, but why make it in the first place if he was only here for a few more days.

Snape and Dumbledore had left him to explore by himself. They had been talking quietly in the other room whilst Harry looked around. But when Harry heard the floo activate and Dumbledore leave for his office, Harry rose to his feet and walked back into the dining room.

Snape was sitting at the table drinking a cup of tea. Harry sat down opposite him and reached for a cup. There was another half full cup that had been left. Dumbledore must have left in a hurry.

As Harry concentrated on pouring his tea, he could feel Snape's eyes probing him. He placed his hands around his cup and looked up. ‘The room is brilliant. Thank you, Sir.'

Severus inclined his head. ‘I want you to consider these rooms your home, Harry.' Harry swallowed. He didn't know what to say but Snape continued.

‘I am sure you realise that this will not be the easiest transition for me. I am used to solitude. And I am sure you must realise that our living in such close proximity will not be a picnic. You know my temperament, and I know yours isn't always sweetness and light, either.

‘We will have to work at it. Both of us. But I am willing to try if you want to make your home with me.'

Harry swallowed again and looked down at his hands clasped around his cup. His grasp was tight and the cup was hot but he needed some kind of anchor. He made a huge effort to stop tears welling up in his eyes. Why was he always so emotional these days. Snape would think he was a girl.

Harry cleared his throat and prising his hands off the cup where they had become all sweaty, he took the handle and took a sip of tea. He then looked at Snape. There was no change in his expression, no miraculous softening at the thought of having a young charge on a permanent basis, nothing close to love shining in his eyes.

But Harry hadn't expected to see anything like that. The fact of the room being created for him and Snape even making the offer in the first place was enough. It couldn't just be Dumbledore's idea that Snape was unwillingly going along with because Snape wasn't sitting here with a face like thunder and a mood to match. It was he putting the proposition to him, not Dumbledore. Anyway, Harry was positive that if Dumbledore had ordered this and Snape was totally against it, he would have just quit his job.

Although, on second thought, maybe not. Voldemort needed him here as a spy, didn't he?

‘I'm willing to try. The thought of a place that I can really call home is nice. And you will have your solitude for most of the year. It's only the summer holidays when I need a home. I always stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and Easter.'

Harry's eyes clouded a little and he looked down again. ‘Well...except for last Christmas with the vision of Mr Weasley being attacked by Nagini.' He swallowed when he thought of where he had stayed last Christmas and with whom. After a few seconds, he looked up again, determined to not let anything spoil the moment. ‘So, does this mean I don't have to go back to the Dursleys anymore?

At that moment, the floo flared again and Dumbledore stepped onto the rug. Severus and Harry both looked at him and Harry felt a fist close around his heart. Dumbledore was looking particularly grim.

‘I am afraid not Harry,' said Dumbledore. He sounded weary, but also determined. Severus stood and faced Albus.

‘What has happened?'

Severus spoke, but Dumbledore looked at Harry as he explained. ‘It seems that the wards at your aunt and uncles home are weakening and Voldemort seems to be getting a fix on where your summer residence is. Death Eaters are converging on Surrey, though they do not appear to know whereabouts in Surrey.'

Severus spun about and looked at Harry. He was sitting as though turned to stone.

‘I am sorry Harry. I knew you would have to spend some time at your aunts, but I had thought we would have a little more time.'

‘Who gave you this information, Dumbledore. Is he sure of his facts.'

‘Alastor, and yes, Severus. Alastor, as you know, is careful to the point of paranoia.'

‘But Sir, how can I be safer anywhere than here.'

Dumbledore sat down opposite Harry and leaned on his forearms. ‘Yes, my boy, you are safe here. But it is essential that we keep the blood protection active for as long as possible because that helps to keep you safe wherever you are. If the blood protection breaks down, you will not, for example be able to go to Hogsmeade.'

Harry opened his mouth to say that he would forego Hogsmeade if it meant he didn't have to face his aunt and uncle and cousin again. But even as he thought it, he knew it couldn't be.

‘They aren't safe either if the protection breaks down, are they?' Dumbledore pierced him with those blue eyes. Harry could see sadness there, but he could also see approval. ‘So, I have to go back to Privet Drive.'

‘I'm afraid so, Harry.'