Severus's brow furrowed. Am I kicking you out! This was what Harry was worried about? This was why he was looking so devastated! Certainly, Severus was angry but he was doing his best to hide it behind a façade of imperturbability. Perhaps Harry was seeing something entirely different though.

Severus sighed and pointed his wand at the towering green flames. "Finite." The flames stilled for an instant and then disappeared entirely. Harry looked up at Snape, trying very hard not to look too hopeful.

Severus pointed towards a chair. "Sit down." Harry sat. Needing a little time to compose his thoughts, Severus took his cloak off and walked across to hang it on the coat rack. Harry sat perfectly still, almost, Severus thought as if he was waiting for the axe to fall irrevocably.

"Sir, please," begged Harry, his white-knuckled fist resting on the arm of the chair. "I am truly sorry! It won't happen again, I promise!"

"I suggest you don't make promises that you can't keep, Harry," said Severus. "But just enlighten me. Exactly what is it that you are promising not to do again?"

Harry looked confused for a moment, but then he burst into frantic speech. "I promise not to mouth off at you again! Or...or to question your loyalty. I know that you're not a Death Eater anymore. I know that you only do what you have to do to maintain your cover."

Severus sat down in the other armchair and steepled his fingers, tapping the tips together lightly. "As I said, you shouldn't make promises that you can't keep."

Harry scooted his backside towards the edge of the chair and stared at his father with impelling intensity. "But I will keep it!"

Severus raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"I will!" yelled Harry, springing to his feet and taking three steps towards Severus. But then he realised that his voice had risen and when he next spoke, it had reverted to almost a whisper. The lack of volume however, didn't detract from the desperation Harry was obviously feeling. "I have to. I don't want you to kick me out! I don't want to go back to not having a real family."

Severus couldn't help but be affected. Harry was more afraid of losing his new father than he was about the fact that that father was a Death Eater and a murderer.

When Severus continued to sit silently with his hooded eyes fixed on Harry and his fingertips pressed together, Harry seemed to droop. He raised his arms in a gesture of hopelessness and let them slap back to his sides. Then he turned away.

"OK. I get it. You've had it playing father." He stood on tiptoe and grabbed the goblet of floo powder, and took a pinch. But before he could throw it into the grate, a long fingered hand closed around his fingers.

"Harry, I have no intention of kicking you out." Harry dipped his head, his eyes closed and a lump the size of a quaffle in his throat.

"You haven't?" Harry croaked around the lump. He twisted his hand a little and Severus released it immediately and stepped away. The floo powder was now glittering on the rug. Harry turned and faced Severus, his eyes behind the round glasses glittering like multi-faceted emeralds. He blinked several times to get rid of the unwanted moisture.

"I told you that I am committed to being a father to you. I believe that includes providing you with a home...such as it is," Severus said, gesturing with his hand to indicate his quarters.

"Then why..." began Harry.

"I wish you to go and stay with Arthur and Molly because I have things to do that I would much rather you not see or be a part of. That is also part of being a father," Severus continued. "Shielding his child from the less pleasant facts of life."

Harry goggled at him. "You don't think I'm used to unpleasantness?" he asked incredulously.

"I know you are, Harry. Far too much for one so young. For one of any age," Severus added in a subdued voice. "But I would rather you didn't know the extent of what I have to do."

He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and leaned down slightly to look directly into his face. "Just know that I do everything within the scope of my knowledge to make anything I have to brew for the Dark Lord much less potent than it should be...to the point where he would not be able to detect it, anyway. I also always make sure I have an antidote brewed before I allow the Dark Lord to know that I have perfected his latest poison. There are certain circumstances where I have been able to administer an antidote."

Harry swallowed, newly appalled by what Severus had been doing earlier, but now understanding just how much he hated doing it. Harry felt anger against Dumbledore begin to simmer in his gut. How dare he send Snape into that mire of evil and misery whenever that evil bastard touched a dark mark. How Snape maintained his sanity was a mystery. How fear didn't overwhelm him when he knew that there was always the possibility that Voldemort-the psychopath-could smite any one of his own followers down on a whim.

But then Harry made a concerted effort to douse the negative emotion. He knew that if there was any other way, Dumbledore wouldn't send Snape into the enemy camp. But knowledge was the best weapon they had. For the time being anyway. Until he, himself was older and ready to face his destiny. And knowing Snape, even if Dumbledore told him to stop spying, Snape would continue anyway. Harry knew this man was no coward.

"This job is very important, Harry. Since the return of this monster, I have saved more lives than I have been responsible for taking."

"If you had said all of this earlier, I wouldn't have mouthed off like I did," said Harry, quietly.

"Anger got the better of me as usual. I was not in the mood to placate you at the time. I was more in the mood to turn you over my knee than try to make you see sense. I didn't want to start a screaming match with you." Severus squeezed the shoulder his hand was resting on. "I am making an effort, Harry. I'm not very good at it yet; I don't know if I ever will be. No one knows better than you that I am not a very nice person." His own voice lowered. "If I was a nice person, then I would make a better father. And if I was a better father, I would have realised that you were worried about my rejecting you."

"I guess I'm not very good at being someone's son either," Harry admitted. "I've done everything I can to make you want to reject me. I suppose I was seeing how far I could push before you cracked."

"You did a very good job. I was ready to take one hundred points from Gryffindor and assign you a months worth of detentions and post-date it to the beginning of term," said Severus drolly. Harry grimaced.

"My restraint was hard won. I had to lock myself away in my room to try to bury that anger very deeply behind my strongest occlumency shield."

"Well next time, instead of trying for restraint, I'd prefer that you yell at me. I'm used to that."

"Next time?" Severus said ominously, but one corner of his mouth had quirked upwards. Harry stared at the infinitesimal gesture that may or may not have indicated that a sense of humour lurked somewhere inside those black robes.

"Not that there'll be a next time," he amended quickly.

"Perhaps if we both promise to make more of an effort, this sort of misunderstanding won't happen again."

"I promise," said Harry sincerely. "I want this to work. I...I really do."

Severus stared into the earnest young face and saw Lily and James staring back at him. But he also saw himself...a much better looking version of himself, but himself none the less. It was amazing that he had never seen the resemblance before all of this had come to light. But then again, he had never tried to look for it before.

Now, Severus nodded his agreement. "I want this to work too," he affirmed.

The two dark haired wizards stared at each other for several seconds, both marvelling at the lack of animosity in the other's gaze. Severus looked away first and strode towards the dining area with the long-legged grace that made his robes flare so magnificently and which Harry knew he could never aspire to.

"I think that we should partake of an early lunch before I take you to the Burrow. That way, Molly won't have to worry about feeding you until this evening."

Harry followed, grateful that he was still here and even more grateful that Snape was still committed to being his father. He vowed that he would not make him regret it by pulling anymore fool stunts like getting pissed out of his gourd and accusing him of being a murderer, ever again.

After partaking of a bowl of thick, creamy wild mushroom soup and chicken sandwiches in a relatively comfortable silence, Harry seemed to became more and more pensive, keeping his eyes on his fingertip as he pressed it into the remaining crumbs on his plate so that they stuck to his finger, and then brushing them off into his empty bowl. He repeated this action several times before Severus replaced his coffee cup in its saucer.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked, looking pointedly at the offending digit when Harry's head snapped up. It was obvious that he had been miles away and Severus raised his eyebrows at Harry's blank look. Harry marvelled again that those mobile eyebrows could convey so much.

His cheeks reddened. When he automatically began to fidget again, Severus's, "Harry!" had him reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice with a jerky movement. But he missed the goblet's stem and knocked it over instead, staining the white linen tablecloth with the garish, orange liquid.

Severus had his wand out and had dealt with the spreading pool before Harry had finished pushing himself backwards and jumping to his feet so that the drips didn't stain his clothes. Once the goblet had been righted and the cloth returned to pristine white, Severus glared exasperatedly at Harry whose whole face was glowing like one of Professor Trelawney's shawl draped lamps.

"Out with it, Harry," bit out Severus impatiently. "What's on your mind now? You've become more and more introspective as lunch has continued."

Harry rubbed his hand through his hair making it stick out in even more directions. "I...I don't know wh..." His eyes begged Severus to help him out, but as Severus had no idea what the problem was, he just stared back, waiting with ill concealed impatience.

Harry spun around to face the wall and put his hands up to his face, pushing his fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes.

"Arrgh!" he growled in frustration.

"Spit it out!"

"Idon'tknowwhattocallyou!" Harry spoke to the wall and he spoke so fast, it took Severus several seconds to translate the garble. When he did finally decipher the words, his face went strangely still. Harry wanted to stay staring at the wall for ever more if it meant that he didn't have to see the look of derision on Snape's face.

After what seemed like forever-the blank stretch of wall offered no insight-Harry managed to gather some of the much maligned Gryffindor courage about him and turned to face the man whom he no longer knew what to call.

"I can't keep on calling you Professor Snape," he said hopelessly. Or Sir, or Snape, or Greasy Git, or Slytherin Shit, or Snarky Bastard.

"What do you want to call me?" asked Severus, calmly, but in truth, he felt anything but calm. Harry's behaviour showed that this dilemma had been causing him some consternation for a while now. When he thought back he realised that the boy hadn't called him anything at all for the last couple of days. When they had first come back from the Burrow, he had been ‘sir' or ‘Professor'. But that had been before they had come to the mutual decision to give their newly discovered relationship a chance.

"I..." Harry's mouth snapped shut and he shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, and looking down at his feet rather than at Severus. Severus thought he had better put him out of his misery. He had never imagined that anyone would ever call him father, or dad. He had never thought about what title he would prefer if he ever did become a father, it had only ever been a partially formed dream when he had had hopes of spending the rest of his life with Lily. Any thoughts of fathering a child had died when Lily had married James.

He supposed an infant learned to call his father whatever his parents taught him to. Tobias had always been ‘Dad' as far back as Severus could remember, though he supposed he had once called him ‘Daddy' when he was very young. Dad, as a title would come naturally to a child who had grown up with a father, but this was an awkward step forward for Harry.

Dumbledore had said that Harry craved a family, that he would eventually be thrilled to have a father, even if that father was him. And it seemed like Harry wanted the whole thing, title and all.

"What do you imagine you would have called James if you had grown up with him?" asked Severus.

Harry thought of Ron calling his father, ‘Dad'. Hermione referred to ‘her father', but Harry had heard her call him, ‘Dad' when he had picked her up at King's Cross. And Dudley called Vernon, ‘Dad'. ‘Dad' seemed right and normal. ‘Father' sounded pretentious to Harry. He imagined rich, toffy-nosed little snobs might call their sires, ‘Father", but normal kids didn't.

But Harry wasn't normal and Severus Snape had only known he was a father for five minutes, and he might think that ‘dad' was too personal. What if he didn't want to be either? Would Harry be able to call his father ‘Sir', for the rest of his days? He didn't think so.

But Harry knew what he would have called James. "I would have called him, ‘Dad'," he said with quiet decisiveness.

"It's not something I ever aspired to, but if it you would like to, you may call me ‘dad'." Severus didn't want to turn it into a big deal. They had to get past this. He realised how hard it was. How long had it taken him to stop calling his son, ‘Potter'?" And he still slipped up now and then if he was angry about something...a circumstance that happened on a far too regular basis. It had gotten to the stage now though, that he didn't have to stop and think. ‘Harry' flowed off his tongue with relative ease now.

After a minute of intense thought, Harry nodded once. "I'd like to give it a try."

"I don't imagine it will feel natural for a while, to either of us, but constant use will alleviate the strangeness," said Severus, trying to ease the taut atmosphere. "I am your father, and the title goes with the job."

Harry offered a tight smile. "I know that you can only be ‘Dad' when we are alone together, or with Professor Dumbledore." Harry frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Does Professor McGonagall know about us?" he asked.

"She does," said Severus nodding, and then swallowing his irritation, he added, "and so does Lupin." Harry's mouth fell open.

"You told him?" he asked in amazement, but he looked thrilled.

"Not directly, no. It appears that your mother confided in the werewolf all those years ago. And it appears that she did have her suspicions about what did ultimately happen. But she died before she could convey those suspicions to me.

"But why didn't Professor Lupin say anything all those years ago?" asked Harry in a high pitched voice. "We could have known about this right from the start. I wouldn't have had to grow up with the Dursleys."

"As to that, Harry, you probably would have still had to grow up with the Dursleys. Don't forget that I told you that I don't think I could have accepted responsibility for you all of those years ago. And even if I had, there was still the question of the blood protection.

"But..." began Harry, but Severus held up his hand for silence.

"Your mother told Lupin of her suspicions, but she made him promise never to say anything. He kept his promise. And then, when you turned one, Lily told him that she was sure that you were entirely James's...that her suspicions were unfounded. He didn't think about it again, especially as you looked so much like James.

"But then, when the circumstances occurred that led to the discovery of our relationship, Lupin became suspicious of the changes in both our behaviours towards each other...specifically the fact that I called you by your Christian name and the fact that you became quite frantic when I was summoned from the Burrow. Your unplanned trip to Godric's Hollow also gave him pause for contemplation." Severus looked like he had just eaten something that didn't agree with him.

"Of course, I have always known that Lupin is possessed of formidable intelligence." This didn't sound like a compliment to Harry's ears, not when it was said with such obvious disdain. "He put everything together and came up with the correct conclusion."

Harry sighed for what could have been. He had had a parent and he had never known; neither had the parent, of course. Even if he had had to stay with his aunt, things would have been different if she had known that Harry had a father; she and Uncle Vernon would not have been so keen to abuse him if they had known that retribution was just a visit away. And though Snape...err, his dad had said he would not have wanted responsibility for Harry, Harry was sure that he would have visited on a regular basis to make sure that everything was well.

"So, I think that the circle of people who know our secret is quite big enough for the time being, so you must be super vigilant not to let on to anyone. That goes for your..." Severus stopped. Harry's cheeks had blossomed with spectacular colour again and he looked amazingly guilty.

"What?" said Severus, his tone its ominous best.

Harry didn't speak. His bottom lip was firmly grasped between his teeth and Severus knew that something had happened that Harry knew he would not approve of. And Severus was sure he knew what it was.

"Weasley and Miss Granger know, don't they?" he asked quietly. He looked surprised when Harry yelped out a convincing, ‘no'!

"Then what are you looking so monumentally guilty about?"

Harry swallowed and licked his lips. "I didn't mean for it to happen..."

"You never do," drawled Severus, prepared to hear the worst. "So you may as well tell me so that I can implement damage control."

"Professor Dumbledore already has," said Harry. "Implemented damage control, I mean." He sighed. "When you were summoned when we were at the Burrow, I was pretty angry-with you and Professor Dumbledore-and I let something slip when I was yelling at him. Ginny was there."

Severus put his elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead with a long index finger. It was his turn to sigh. It was not as bad as it could have been, he supposed. Ginevra Weasley was not the loose canon that her three nearest in age siblings were. She was easily the most tolerable of the four youngest Weasleys, which was just as well considering that she and his son were in the midst of a teenage romance.

Severus privately thought that for Harry, any romantic relationship would be significant; he was not the sort of person who would skip from one short-lived romance to another. And considering that Miss Weasley appeared to be very protective of her boyfriend, Severus was sure that she would be of a like mind.

"I'm sorry," said Harry pathetically.

"You always are, Harry," said Severus in a long suffering voice. "We are going to have to work on anger control for you, I feel."

Harry goggled at Severus. "And who would take charge of that operation?" he asked snidely. "I don't think you're qualified to teach anyone anger management."

Severus glared through narrowed eyes and Harry groaned inwardly. When was he going to learn to keep his big, fat mouth shut? He waited for the explosion, but it never came.

"I have to admit that you do have a point. I did tell you that you got your temper from me." Harry drooped with relief.

"Exactly what was said in front of Miss Weasley?"

"Umm...I'm not exactly sure. But I do know I mentioned ‘my father' and I'm pretty sure she knew that I wasn't talking about James Potter. Professor Dumbledore asked her not to say anything to anyone and she promised she wouldn't. She didn't even bring it up the next morning."

"At least the girl seems to be possessed of a modicum of sense," drawled Severus. "I will deal with it."

Harry looked alarmed. "You're not going to obliviate her," he said, appalled.

Severus glared at Harry through narrowed eyes. Harry had the grace to look ashamed of his outburst. He lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered to the tablecloth.

"Perhaps you should prepare yourself for the journey to the Burrow, before we come to blows again," said Severus, standing up and heading for the lab.

"I'm ready, said Harry, still subdued. "Severus halted his stride and turned back to face Harry. He scrutinized his light t-shirt, and changing direction, he headed towards his own room instead, stopping near the front door. He pointed his wand at the small mirror near the door and muttered the incantation that Harry now recalled showed the sky outside just above the edge of the Forbidden Forest and enabled one to check the weather.

The sky was a uniform steel grey and the tops of the trees that were visible above a hovering mist were quiescent. "I suggest that a jacket is in order. That mist does not bode well if you are hoping for more seasonal temperatures. You have enough clothes in your bag at the Burrow?"

Harry nodded, pushing himself upright. The sight of the grey day outside did nothing to enhance his state of mind. All of a sudden, he felt miserable. Sna...err, his father was all business again; he seemed to be in a great hurry to get rid of him.

Severus watched Harry walk into his room and noted the dejected droop to his shoulders. Now what was the matter? Shaking his head, Severus went to his lab and rechecked the ingredients he had prepared that morning and had placed under a quick stasis charm to keep them at peak condition until he could utilize them. He took the time to set a medium sized iron cauldron half full of water, and to which he had added two ladles full of colloidal silver over what was little more than a candle wick sized flame. The heating process would be extremely slow, but it was better if the colloidal silver was heated as slowly as possible. When he got back from the Burrow, a light blue haze should be rising over the level of the liquid in the cauldron.

When he looked up from a final check of the flame, Harry was hovering in the doorway, looking at the cauldron as if it was a bomb that might go off at any moment. Severus strode towards him and Harry hurriedly led the way back into the living room. Severus saw that he had donned one of the ubiquitous hooded jackets that most of the students seemed to wear these days. It didn't look very thick.

"Haven't you got a coat of some sort?" he asked, marvelling at how good his interpretation of a fussing parent was. He had made the enquiry without conscious thought, almost as if he had been doing it for many a long year. Severus could only assume that his solicitousness was a throwback to when Harry had been so seriously ill. He had somehow gotten used to being Harry's carer.

"I'll be warm enough," said Harry, and Severus let it go. Harry was nearly sixteen, not six...quite capable of deciding whether he was warm enough. Then Severus remembered that Harry had been dressed much the same as this in the graveyard at Godric's Hollow, and he had been far from warm on that occasion.

Taking a calming breath, Severus reached for the floo powder, while Harry took off his glasses and put them in his jeans pocket. Severus threw down the powder, and gestured for Harry to precede him. Seconds later, Harry was on his hands and knees on the worn hearth rug in the Burrow's shabby but comfortable sitting room.

Hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet and suddenly Harry's face was buried in a bush of brown hair and he was breathing in the smell of green apples. "Hi Hermione," he said, laughing, ending up with several strands of hair in his mouth.

"Oh, Harry, thank goodness you're all right."

"Mione, let him breathe." Harry felt Hermione prised away from him and Ron grinned at him as he picked several hairs that had parted company with Hermione's exuberant crowning glory out of his mouth. The he reached for his glasses and put them on.

"The smiles faded from Ron and Hermione's faces as Severus stepped gracefully out of the green flames. Molly bustled in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

Severus removed his flint like gaze from the three teens to focus on the Weasley matriarch.

"Ah, Severus." Molly nodded to Severus and he dipped his head perfunctorily in return. "And Harry...it's so good to have you back with us, dear," and she enfolded Harry in one of her trademark hugs.

Harry hugged her back and allowed her to hold him at arms length so that she could inspect him minutely for signs of malnutrition and bruises. "You're still looking a little peaky, dear." She turned to Severus and gave him the gimlet eye. "Are you sure he's fully recovered, Severus?" she asked.

"Potter will never be better than he is at this moment, Molly. I can assure you of that," drawled Severus. Harry glared at him, as did Hermione; Ron thrust his hands into the pockets of his rust coloured cords and studied the tips of his gungy trainers. Harry marvelled at how easily Snape could change personas. He could just exude nastiness on command!

Molly gave Severus a withering look that as usual left him totally unaffected. When she spoke, her voice could have cut glass. "May I have a word with you in the kitchen, Professor Snape?" Then she turned to the three teens. "Why don't the three of you go up and get Harry settled. Hedwig will be pleased to see you, dear. She's been quite sulky. The only one she doesn't snap at is Ginny, so she's in her bedroom."

"I want a final word with you before I leave Potter," said Severus in a coldly significant tone. Harry glared at him. He had known that this would be the most difficult thing for him to come to terms with...this reversal of attitude; even though he knew that it was just an act, his father was scarily good at it. Harry didn't know whether he would be able to turn on and off like that, depending on the situation they were in at the time. He knew he had to, but God, it was hard.

His, "yes, sir!" was said through clenched teeth and it was not because that was how the fatherless Harry would have once spoken to Snape, but because he was trying to hold in the hurt he couldn't help but feel at Snape's snide comment and coldly delivered order. As he trudged up the stairs behind Ron and Hermione, he realised that it didn't matter if he was acting or feeling hurt and irritated, the end result was the same; he sounded resentful and hateful, which was exactly how he had always sounded when he spoke to Snape.

So deep had he been in thought, Harry bumped into Hermione, who was in turn knocked into Ron who had stopped and turned back to face them in front of Ginny's door. Harry looked at the door blankly for a moment, and then at Ron, whose scarlet face was the colour of a Chinese Fireball, and Hermione...whose face was the same colour as Ron's.

It's about bloody time they became aware of each other. But now Harry realised that he would have to live through them both trying to deny their attraction to each other, and the arguing that would ensue. It was going to be a long year.

"You'll want to see Hedwig," said Ron after clearing his throat and deciding that it was best to pretend that Hermione wasn't even there, and without knocking, he thrust open the door. Hedwig was perched on the end of Ginny's bed. She turned her rather fearsome face towards them and Hermione moved back a little. But as soon as the snowy owl saw Harry, her fierce expression seemed to lighten and she hooted and launched herself into the air. A single sweep of her wings carried her to Harry's shoulder where she landed and began to nibble his ear straight away.

"Hi ya, girl," crooned Harry softly and he rubbed his cheek against her snowy breast. "I missed you too."

Hermione watched the reunion with tears in her eyes...she had seen and felt (the scratches on the back of her hand were testament to how sharp Hedwig's beak was) just how out of sorts Hedwig had been, and she was still stressing about everything that had happened to Harry. Her best friend was going to be the death of her. Ron however was grinning like a loon. "Bet you wish that was Ginny, hey Harry? Her nibbling on your ear and you...well, you..."

"Yes, thank you Ronald...I think we get the visual!" snapped Hermione.

A little grin lifted the corners of Harry's mouth as he continued to nuzzle Hedwig. He couldn't help being amazed at the change in Ron's attitude towards him and Ginny...he had been so anti-them as a couple not all that long ago.

And just where the hell was Ginny? Frowning, Harry looked around the tiny room, as if he might see her pop out from under the bed or from behind the camp bed Hermione had slept on and which had been propped up against the wall so that the girls could move without stepping all over it. The bedding was folded on the end of Ginny's bed. Hedwig didn't appreciate being ignored even for a few seconds and she nipped Harry a little harder on the ear than she had been.

"Oww," He raised a hand to stroke her head. "Sorry," he said, and while continuing to stroke her, he asked, "where's Ginny."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Probably in the midst of committing a grisly murder, I'd say." He continued the journey to his own room and Hermione and Harry followed...Harry after taking a good look around the tiny, bright room with its sunny yellow walls and bright posters and butterfly and flower motifs stuck all over the walls and ceiling and the tallboy that was squeezed into a corner. There was no wardrobe because there was no room for one. All of Ginny's clothes must be in the tallboy. A big mauve backpack was shoved behind the door and Harry assumed it was Hermione's.

With Hedwig swaying on his shoulder, Harry hurried up the last flight of stairs and entered his bolthole here at the Burrow. ‘The Orange Eyrie', he had dubbed it in his own mind and it was one of the few places where he felt truly at home. Ron always seemed perfectly happy to share a bedroom with him, particularly as Harry didn't go on about the Chudley Canon's colour scheme. Pigwidgeon was hooting happily from his cage on the top of Ron's wardrobe. Ron was throwing some owl treats up to him-Harry noticed that they had been broken into smaller pieces for the tiny little Scops Owl as he tended to choke on them otherwise-and he tipped a handful into Harry's hand so that he could feed them to Hedwig.

"What do you mean, she's in the midst of committing a grisly murder?" asked Harry lowering himself carefully onto his camp bed before feeding a treat to Hedwig. He was a bit peeved that Ginny wasn't here; the thought of her had been one of the main reason's he had finally been resigned to leaving the dungeons with no more complaint.

"Aunty Muriel has decided that she's not well-she's a miserable old fraud-and she demanded that Ginny come and..." Ron drew inverted commas in the air with his fingers, "‘nurse' her." Ron hoisted himself back into the corner near the head of his bed-as far away from Hermione as he could get, Harry noted-and leaned back, drawing his knees up and resting his forearms on them. The look on his face indicated what he thought about the prospect of nursing his old aunt

"It happens at least once a summer since Ginny started at Hogwarts. The old bat even demanded that Mum drag Ginny out of school to nurse her once, but Mum really put her foot down there."

"Poor Ginny," said Hermione. "But perhaps Muriel is sick this time," she added, trying to be fair.

Ron looked at her as if she was mad. "Hermione, that old bat will live until she's two hundred years old, just to piss us all off. She's a horrible, manipulative old hypochondriac who loves to hold us all to ransom. And she's only an aunt by marriage too. She was married to Dad's Uncle Xavier, who died when Dad was only a kid. And as she was an only child from a long line of only children, she had no one else and so she latched onto the Weasleys, and us specifically."

"Why pander to her if she's such an old fraud?" asked Harry, feeling more than a little pissed with Aunty Muriel...and (guiltily) with Mrs Weasley for making her daughter do something it seemed that she didn't want to do."

"Because she's loaded and Mum reckons that we deserve something after putting up with her antics for so long."

Harry and Hermione both looked taken aback at the news that Mrs Weasley was willing to sell her daughter's services in the hopes that they would benefit from Muriel's will. Ron interpreted their looks.

"Dad's Uncle Xavier was an old bugger too. He was the older brother and the Weasleys used to have money. But Dad's grandfather left all the fortune to the oldest son...Xavier, and he watched Dad and Mum struggle for every knut they earned and never shared what Dad should have been entitled to. He came from the old school where the oldest son inherits everything and any other kids can go to hell.

"Dad couldn't care less, but Mum figures he was duded and she will do anything she feels is necessary to get something out of Muriel, who is sitting on a huge pile of galleons that she holds over Dad's head as a lure. Mum figures some of it should be Dad's."

"But Ginny is the one who's in the middle," said Harry, indignant on behalf of his girlfriend.

"She didn't used to mind. Muriel was pretty decent to her. But she's become a lot more demanding and a lot less generous. You should have heard the screaming match yesterday, when Muriel floo called asking for Ginny. Ginny of course, didn't want to go because we were expecting you."

"But your Mum won," said Harry.

"Duh! Of course she won. But if Dad had been home, I think Ginny would have won. He doesn't want Ginny going anymore...he never wanted her going. In fact, Dad's a bit pissed with Mum at the moment."

Harry privately agreed with Mr Weasley, but Ron now waved his hand in the air, indicating that the subject of his poor sister's travails was not important enough to turn into a debate. He scooted to the edge of the bed and leaned towards Harry looking eager.

"I just want to know how you survived living with Snape in the dungeons again. He's such a wanker!" he added for good measure.

Harry felt his cheeks redden a little and he concentrated on scratching Hedwig's chin. She seemed to have gone to sleep on his shoulder, obviously reluctant to leave him. Hermione looked interested in his answer too, but when she saw how uncomfortable he looked, she tried to change the subject.

"Ginny told me that you and your cousin are getting on a lot better these days, Harry," she said, but Ron wasn't going to be thwarted.

"He's another wanker. And you had Snape staying there at the Dursleys too, didn't you?" He shook his head, imagining the nightmare Harry had been living lately. "What God did you piss off, Harry? Snape and the Dursleys under one roof! Urrrgh!" He gave an exaggerated shiver.

"Ron!" snapped Hermione again.

"It's OK, Hermione," said Harry. Then he faced Ron. "I've had to put up with Snape, Ron because Dumbledore has appointed him my babysitter. It seems I am in more danger than ever. Voldemort..."

Ron shivered for real this time. "Don't say the name!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Get over it Ron. It's a name. A made up name at that. If you don't like me calling him Voldemort, I'll refer to him as Tom. OK?"

Ron just rolled his eyes and Harry hoped that the subject of Snape might have been forgotten, but no...

"Isn't there another member of the Order who can babysit you? I mean, here, the wards and enchantments around the house have been strengthened to the nth degree, so you can be safe while you stay here. Dumbledore wants the house put under the Fidelius Charm next, but they want to see how this is going to work out.

"You're a bit early actually, but Bill is coming to live at home while you're here. He's using up some of his holidays. He was supposed to get here before you. I suppose that's why Snape is hanging around, until he gets here."

"God!" burst out Harry, springing to his feet and dislodging Hedwig who fluttered down onto the camp bed with an irritated flutter and a loud squawk "Can't I just come for a holiday at my best mate's house without all this hullabaloo? This is just such crap!"

"Harry," said Hermione gently, reaching forward to put her hand on his forearm. "With everything that's been going on lately..."

"What's been going on?" he asked in a tight voice. Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then looked down at their knees.

"What!" demanded Harry. "Tell me what's been happening?"

"Err, we thought you would know, living with Snape and all. He'd be in the thick of it, wouldn't he?"

When Harry's eyes narrowed to a glare, Ron blustered, "What are you looking at me like that for. He is a Death Eater."

"He's a spy!" yelled Harry. "And he doesn't get called to every Death Eater meeting."

"How do you know that, Harry?" asked Hermione in a calm voice, determined to forestall any argument before it happened.

"Because of this!" snapped Harry pointing to his scar. "I know when Vold...sorry, Tom is active...it flares up and the constant pain in it gets worse. It's been pretty bad lately, but Snape has only been summoned once in the last few days." He wasn't going to tell them that his scar pain was somehow worse when Snape was summoned. He had really only worked that out recently.

"When?"

"When what?"

"When was Snape summoned?" asked Ron.

"Why?" asked Harry cautiously.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice held a warning, but Ron ignored her.

"Two days ago, Amelia Bones, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and Emmaline Vance, a member of the Order, were murdered by You Know Who and the Death Eaters."

Harry stomach swooped and he felt sick with the sudden roller-coaster sensation. Oh, God, Snape had been there. He had been gone for hours. He remembered that Snape had come home looking pale and sick and exhausted that morning. He felt both his friends staring at him with worried eyes.

"No. He wasn't summoned two days ago. He was at Hogwarts all day." Harry brushed past Hermione's knees and walked over to the window, leaning on the sill and looking down into the Burrow's untidy but eminently welcoming garden.

Harry knew they didn't believe him, but he wasn't going to give Ron more dirt on Snape than he already thought he had. He still felt sick. His father had been there while two women had been murdered. "How were they killed?" he asked in what he hoped was a vaguely interested voice.

"We don't know," said Hermione. It's been withheld from the newspaper reports."

"And if Dad or Bill know, they're not saying," added Ron.

"So, what else has been happening?" asked Harry, turning around and leaning his butt on the edge of the sill.

Ron opened his mouth to answer but a short, sharp knock sounded on the door, and it was thrust open to reveal Bill.

"How you doing Harry? Professor Snape wants to see you before he goes." He pushed the door open further and after giving him a tight smile, Harry strode past Bill and clattered down the stairs. Mrs Weasley was alone in the kitchen.

"Professor Snape is waiting in the garden dear," she said, smiling fondly at Harry. "We're having your favourite roast chicken for dinner and treacle tart for sweets."

"Great," said Harry, trying to put as much enthusiasm into his response as he could. But truth to tell, any appetite he might have had had deserted him with the horrific news of the two murders. And Snape had been there. And from what Ron and Hermione had said, heaps more had happened.

It seemed that Voldemort was out in the open and making up for lost time.

Harry headed into the back garden. The dark cloaked figure of his father was down near the little lake and Harry headed towards him. It was cold and he hunched his shoulders and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. Tendrils of mist wrapped themselves around his lower legs and feet.

Severus looked up when he heard Harry approach. He knew straight away that something had happened. "What is it?" he asked as soon as Harry was in hailing distance.

Harry shook his head. There was no way that he was going to jump down Snape's throat about what had happened two nights ago, not after what had happened in the lab. And he knew if he said anything, he would end up yelling. Not because he thought Snape had willingly participated in the murders, but because he had kept Harry in the dark about what was happening in the Wizarding World since he had regained consciousness after the poisoning.

Harry opened his mouth but Severus cut him off. "Don't say, ‘nothing'!" he bit out.

Harry's lips thinned and he hunched down even further into his jacket, but he didn't respond.

"You've been here five minutes, Harry. You're not sulking because of what I said and the way I spoke when we first got here, are you?"

"No!" cried Harry. "I know it was an act. I don't say I like it, but I know we have to do it."

"Are you going to tell me what the matter is, or do I have to legilimize you?"

"You wouldn't!" said Harry, appalled.

"I don't want to, so you had better tell me."

"It's Voldemort, all right!" yelled Harry.

Severus looked angry at Harry's tone and when he pulled his wand with the speed of a striking cobra, Harry fell back a step. But Snape just muttered a strange incantation. Harry couldn't tell what he had done but as it didn't seem to have affected him, he went on in the same vein as before. He did try to lower his voice, but he wasn't very successful.

"Why have you been hiding what's been going on from me? You haven't let me see a paper since I woke up. And now I know why. He's in full war mode, isn't he?"

Severus's lips were now clamped together and he looked angry. "You don't need to know what's going on. There's nothing you can do. And you have enough to be going on with.

"You're not ready for any of this, so there is no point in your knowing and getting upset about things you have no control over. You're job is to concentrate on school. These happenings will happen with or without your knowledge."

"These people are dying because of me!" Harry's voice had risen again. "I'm the only one who can end this. I need to learn how to kill him, and I'm learning how to transfigure kittens into slippers and how to fertilize and prune flutterby bushes and look after flobberworms. It's all crap!"

"And as for Defence Against the Dark Arts. That's the biggest load of crap of the lot. Remus was the only one who ever taught us anything in the least little bit useful, but even that wasn't how to fight dark wizards because we were only in third year.

"Umbridge was the most useless of all because she and her lunatic boss refused to believe that Voldemort was back! She was more interested in torturing students. Mostly me," he added, his voice filled with hopelessness.

Harry had run out of steam. When he finally got up the nerve to look his father in the face, he expected to see the all too familiar anger blazing from those black eyes, but instead, there was something that might just have been compassion...and worry. Harry's throat seized and he felt tell tale moisture begin to glaze his eyes.

"How am I going to do this?" He shook his head and turned away. A hand came down on his shoulder and forced him back around. He raised those incredibly beautiful eyes to Severus's face and Severus saw his frightened son staring at him and beseeching him to make it all right. "I'm scared, Dad," Harry croaked.

It happened without conscious thought. Afterwards, Severus couldn't say who had made the first move, but suddenly Harry was pressed against his chest and he had one arm clamped around the slender shoulders and one buried in the shock of black, untidy hair, pressing Harry's face to his shoulder. He was actually hugging his son. The ice that had been encasing his heart for the last twenty years of his life seemed to shift as it began to thaw.

This felt right. This boy who was clinging to him needed him desperately. This child's life was hell, but despite what he was living through and the frightening future he had to look forward to, there was still room in his heart to forgive one of his worst tormentors and embrace him as his father.

Still without conscious thought, Severus lowered his face into the soft mop of hair. There was so much of it but it was as soft as a baby's, and when he spoke, he spoke into the unruly locks "You're no longer alone, Harry, and I am not going to let anything happen to you. We will prepare for this together and I will protect you with my life."

After how long, Severus didn't know, Harry squirmed a little and Severus released him and stepped back. Harry was embarrassed. He looked own and dug the toe of his right trainer into the dirt over and over. But after about fifteen seconds, he looked up. His eyes were still shining behind the round lenses, but they weren't full of despair now...they were full of hope. His voice was still uncertain however.

"Do you mean it?"

"I mean it. It would seem that an automatic side effect of being a father is the need to protect. It has crept up on me with a great deal of stealth, but it is now entrenched and there is nothing I can do but succumb to its demands."

Harry's smile was slow to develop but when it did, it lit his face like a beacon.

Severus's eyes roved over his son's happy face for several seconds, but then his expression reverted to its usual harsh lines and Harry's smile faltered. "Just realise how hard this is for me, Harry, when every instinct cries out to me to make sure all Gryffindors are as oppressed as it is possible for them to be within the constraints of the law."

Harry's smile widened once again. He shrugged. "I imagine it's almost as hard as it is for me to be told what to do by my Slytherin potions Professor when every instinct cries out for me to give him the finger and tell him where to go."

A corner of Severus's mouth quirked upwards, but straightened out almost at once. "It would seem that we will spend the rest of our days fighting our natural instincts."

"Oh, I don't know," said Harry and his eyes shone with a light that Severus hadn't seen there before. It could have been the light of a fledgling affection, but as it had been a long time since Severus had seen the light of affection in anyone's eyes, he couldn't be entirely sure. "I think an unnatural behaviour becomes an instinct if it's given enough exercise, don't you?"

And as Harry looked to him for an affirmative response, Severus had to marvel at his son's capacity for forgiveness and freely given affection.

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed.