Harry woke up to the feeling that someone was staring at him. Groping about for his glasses, he finally located them on the end table and jammed them on. Funny, he didn't recall putting them there before he'd fallen asleep on the couch. Couch? He blinked, wondering how he'd gotten there. Wait a minute, this wasn't his couch, it was Snape's! He'd fallen asleep on Snape's couch, because Ginny had been stolen away by the Shifter and he'd come to the Director to ask for help in getting her back. He felt a slow blush spread over his cheekbones as he recalled the conversation that had followed and somehow he'd ended falling asleep on the couch.

He sat up, only then meeting the curious brown eyes of the boy sitting a few feet away in the recliner, a fuzzy blue blanket wrapped about him. "Hello. You're Severus's apprentice, is that right?" Harry guessed, his mind was still muddled from sleep but he thought he recalled Snape telling him he had an apprentice.

The boy nodded. "Yeah. Name's Gavin. Gavin Snape."

Harry felt his jaw come unhinged. "Uh . . .did you say your last name was Snape?"

"Yup. Severus gave me his name when he adopted me, ‘cause he's my guardian and I never had a last name. Never really had a first name either, since whoever left me at the orphanage never bothered to give me one and neither did that A-hole Ferrous. Unless you count "Idiot" and "Freak". Smoke and Slick, the leaders of the Ravens called me Wolf, but Sev said no way was that a proper name and he called me Gavin. It means hawk in Welsh. He said it was his grandfather's name too."

"I see," Harry said, though his head was spinning at the information he'd just been given. Clearly this boy had been neglected and abused, just as he had with the Dursleys, perhaps even worse. And Snape had adopted him. Which explained why the Director had called the boy "son". And also why he allowed the boy to use his first name so casually. Belatedly, he held out a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Gavin. I'm Harry." He paused wondering if he should tell the kid his last name. Then he decided it was best to just get it over with. "Harry Potter."

Gavin, who'd just grasped Harry's hand in his own, dropped it like a hot poker and cried, "Holy hells! The Harry Potter? The Slayer of Voldemort?"

"That's me," Harry said, and blushed. God, how he hated that title! He could cheerfully throttle whoever had invented it. First he had been The-Boy-Who-Lived and now he was The Slayer of Voldemort. No wonder Snape thought him conceited.

Gavin cocked his head, then he stated, "You look a lot better in person than you do in your pictures."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, except, "Thanks. I never liked half the pictures they took of me anyway." He cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure of where to go from there. "Uh, are you feeling okay? Snape-I mean Severus-told me you were sick."

Gavin shrugged. "I am. But I feel ten times better now than when I woke up before. Those magic potions of his work a lot better than Pepto Bismol, know what I mean?"

Harry nodded, he was familiar with Muggle medicines. "They should, he used to be the Potions Master for Hogwarts, and he knows how to brew nearly any potion, I think."

"Wasn't he a Defense Master too?"

"Yeah, for a year, when Lucius Malfoy sent his army to attack the school," Harry clarified. "Then, after Voldemort was defeated, Albus Dumbledore named him as his successor and he became the Headmaster for two years until he chose Remus Lupin to succeed him."

"And then he moved here and became the Director of Hunter Intel," Gavin finished. "Mrs. Perkins, my school vice principal, says I should count my lucky stars that he agreed to teach me and is my guardian."

Harry's eyebrow went up. That was a far cry from what he would have felt if Snape had been named his guardian when he was Gavin's age. "Do you agree with her?"

"Sure. Severus is okay, mostly. When he isn't on my ass to do my homework and stuff, I mean. He's kind of cool, actually, especially when he teaches me magic. He taught me how to make a Sleeping Draft last week and this week we were gonna do a Calming Draught, only I got sick with this freakin' virus." The kid scowled grimly down at his slippers. "He was your teacher too once, right?"

Harry nodded, concealing a wince. Oh yes, he was, but he was nothing like the way he is with you now, Gavin. Back then he was still a spy and a secret agent and he was a greasy git who made me hate him so he could fool Voldemort into believing he was a loyal Death Eater. We couldn't stand each other. And no way would I ever have referred to him as "cool".

"Unfortunately, yes I was, Gavin," said Severus from behind them, nearly giving Harry heart failure. He was smirking slightly. "I was given the unenviable task of teaching Mr. Potter Potions for five years."

"Really? How come I never knew that? That the Slayer of Voldemort was your student?"

Snape looked uncomfortable and Harry couldn't resist needling him a bit. "Yeah, Severus, why didn't you ever tell him? Trelawney bragged to anybody who would listen that she was my Divination teacher afterwards."

"Your performance in my classroom was hardly anything to brag about, Potter," his former professor shot back.

Now it was Harry's turn to feel uncomfortable. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Why? You weren't good at Potions?" Gavin asked, wide-eyed that such a famous wizard wasn't good at everything.

"He was abysmal," Severus said before Harry could answer.

"Oh, come on, Snape, I wasn't that bad," Harry protested. "Neville was abysmal. I was just, uh, distracted."

"Is that what you called it? I'd say you were more than just distracted. You were a distraction, causing a disturbance nearly every lesson."

"You're exaggerating."

"I don't think so, Potter. Who was it that put a firework in Malfoy's cauldron during your second year and caused Swelling Solution to explode all over your classmates, hmm? I think his initials were HJP."

"You knew about that?" Harry gasped.

"Only months afterward, when Miss Granger admitted it to me in a fit of remorse just before the term ended for the year."

"And you didn't report me to the Headmaster? Or try and have me expelled?"

"No, because it would have done no good. For after that fiasco in the Chamber of Secrets you were Dumbledore's Golden Boy and he would hear no wrong about you, no matter how true it was. So I held my tongue, difficult as that was, and I let it go. But I did watch you very closely in your third year."

"Don't remind me," Harry said sourly. "Every time I turned around, you were watching me."

"As I should have been, seeing the amount of trouble you got into that year," Snape said, and gave him a trademark smirk. "Sneaking around in the dead of night to chase after werewolves and criminals and nearly getting yourself killed."

"Really?" Gavin looked at Harry in awe. "Man, sounds like you had the life. Except for Severus being on your ass, that must have sucked."

"Gavin!" Snape growled. "What have I told you about watching your language, young man?"

"What? I didn't say the F-word."

"Lucky for you, otherwise you'd have been eating soap, Mr. Snape." Severus countered. "Must we go over accepted words in polite conversation again?"

Gavin gulped. "No! I don't want to write anymore lines."

"Then watch your mouth, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Gavin sighed. Then he muttered, "But they use the word ass in The Bible, you know."

"What was that?" Severus inquired silkily.

"Nothing," said his apprentice hastily.

Harry turned away, hiding a grin. Merlin, but the boy had guts to answer Snape back like that. Especially when the man could do a whole lot worse than give him detention. Yet, oddly enough, Gavin did not seem afraid of the Director. Not much, at least. Which said something about the way Snape treated him.

Severus heaved a sigh. "It seems that I am doomed to teach smartmouthed brats forever, as you can see, Mr. Potter. This one is a great deal like you, I fear."

"Oh? Brilliant, handsome, and destined to save the world?"

"Got that right," Gavin crowed.

Severus rolled his eyes. "No, I was thinking reckless, impulsive and destined to spend half his free time in detention for the rest of the year. Much the same as you, Slayer of Voldemort."

"You mean he gave you detention too, Harry? For what?"

"Everything you can think of," Severus told him. "And if you're smart, you won't copy him, boy. Right, Harry?" he slanted a meaningful glance at the Auror.

For a minute Harry was tempted to disregard Severus' nonverbal cue and encourage the boy to rebel against his strict teacher, but then he thought better of it. He was supposed to be a role model, after all, and the kid wasn't just Snape's student, but his ward as well, and Harry didn't want to be responsible for the boy getting in trouble. So he nodded in agreement and said, "Stay on his good side, Gavin. You won't like it when he's mad, trust me."

"Like I don't know that," Gavin snorted. "Did he make you scrub the floor too?"

"No, but he made me clean twenty cauldrons without magic," Harry recalled. "Brittany Marsh was the one who scrubbed the dungeon floor."

"You still remember that, Potter?"

Harry chuckled. "Of course. No one will ever forget Marsh's detention, Professor. It's part of Hogwarts history, like Umbridge's quill."

"Oh, now I hardly think a morning scrubbing a floor with a bucket of water and soap is comparable to Umbridge carving lines into your hand with a blood quill!"

"You forgot making her take the eggs out of two dozen pincer crabs too," Harry reminded him, his green eyes dancing.

"Even so, that's nowhere equal to Umbridge's torture!" Snape protested. "I gave out punishments, she was a sadist who enjoyed hurting students."

"That's not why we remember Marsh's detention, Severus," Harry hastened to explain. "It's because that was the first time anybody ever dared give the Queen of Quidditch her just desserts. Marsh always got away with everything, she never got caught, until Arista came to Hogwarts and decided to put paid to her little campaign. And you helped her, sir, by giving Marsh that God-awful detention, even though she was your star Beater."

"Oh," Snape said, somewhat mollified by Harry's explanation. "For your information, what I did to her was nothing like what I wanted to do to her, believe me. She was a spoiled rotten brat that needed a sound spanking and I would've dearly loved to give her one, Slytherin or not!"

"What about her glamorous boyfriend, Hathaway?"

"Him too, he was just as bad. Though not as bad as Draco Malfoy," Severus said, frowning.

"What did he do?" Gavin wanted to know.

"He betrayed Hogwarts to Voldemort," Harry answered.

"And was expelled for it," Severus reminded him softly. Then he darted a stern glance at his apprentice. "I hope you have better sense than to imitate him, Gavin Snape."

"Of course I do!" Gavin said indignantly. "I'm a Snape too, you know!"

"You certainly are," his guardian agreed, giving the boy a smile and tousling his hair. "How's your stomach?"

"Better."

"Do you feel like eating something? Like chicken broth and a half of a piece of toast?"

Gavin considered. Then he nodded. "All right. But are you gonna make me take any more of that gross peppermint stuff?"

"Perhaps one more dose should be sufficient," Severus said.

Gavin groaned. "Aw, Severus! I hate that damn potion!"

"Gavin!" Snape warned. "Language, young man."

"Okay, okay. Sorry, I forgot." He gave his teacher a pleading look. "Can't we just skip this time?"

But Snape remained firm. "No. Do you want to be sick for longer than a day?"

"No."

"Then you'll take my potion. Come," and he summoned the Anti-Nausea Potion with a flick of a finger, took the child on his lap and fed him the last dose, before Harry could so much as blink. "There! Now you can have lunch," and Severus released the boy and sent him into the kitchen, where a mug of chicken broth awaited him as well as a half of a piece of toast, lightly buttered.

Harry looked at his former professor with newfound respect. "You need to teach me how to do that."

"How to do what? Give a kid medicine he doesn't like?"

"Yeah."

"Just remember to try three things. First reason with him. Then if that doesn't work, try being firm. When all else fails, shove the spoon in his mouth. Works like magic." Severus said with a wicked smirk.

"You're evil, Severus."

"So I've heard," the Director chuckled.

"Where did you learn all this stuff anyhow?"

"I was a teacher for over sixteen years. Do you think I went running to Pomfrey every time one of my House came down with a cold? As a Potions Master, I'm trained in basic medicine and standard remedies for flues and such. The only time I ever sent my students to the Hospital Wing was if they came down with something contagious, or were under a curse that took days to remove or were injured too badly for me to deal with. Otherwise I handled it myself, the way I'm doing with Gavin."

"Oh. I never knew that. Whenever one of the Gryffindors was sick, McGonagall always sent us to the Hospital Wing."

"That's because Minerva was never trained as a medic, and fainted at the sight of blood," Severus told him.

"She did?"

"Yes. That was one of the best kept secrets in Hogwarts. Though since you're an alumni, I don't think it matters if you know now. That was why you would never see her down on the Quidditch pitch when there was a bad accident. She regarded it as shameful, but never managed to overcome it. I told her once that there were a lot worse phobias and she nearly bit my head off. She made the whole staff swear never to reveal her "terrible affliction"." Snape rolled his eyes.

Harry whistled. Who would have thought McGonagall had any kind of weakness like that? Certainly none of her House would have ever guessed the stern matriarch couldn't stand the sight of blood. Though now that he thought about it, he never could recall McGonagall anywhere around when he'd been injured playing Quidditch.

"Did you hear anything from your assistant?" Harry queried.

Severus shook his head. "No. Not yet. It's a bit early yet, some of those Ministry Aurors are still having tea, so they probably haven't had time to check the files yet. Why don't you have a cup of stress tea? It'll help your nerves."

"Sure," Harry agreed.

They entered the kitchen, where Gavin was just finishing up his broth and toast as well as a mug of chamomile tea.

Snape glanced at the boy, who seemed to be doing much better than he was earlier. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Gavin asserted, then smothered a yawn.

"You should go back to bed and rest."

"Am I allowed to watch TV?"

"Yes, if you promise to rest," Severus agreed. "No video games though."

"Why not?"

"Because you won't rest like you're supposed to. You'll be too involved in beating whatever it is you're playing."

"Aw, Severus, come on!" Gavin insisted stubbornly.

"Don't give me an argument, young man, or else no TV," his guardian said sternly. "You might feel somewhat better than you did an hour ago, but that virus is not out of your system yet. And you'll never get better unless you get some rest, for that's how your body heals itself, with sleep." Severus crossed his arms over his chest and gave the boy a look Harry knew all too well. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you give me your word you'll rest and watch TV in bed like a sensible person. The hard way is I put you to bed like a cranky three-year-old and dose you with a Sleeping Draft. Well? What's it going to be?"

Gavin stared at him in disbelief. "You wouldn't!"

Snape didn't give an inch. "Try me."

"But-but you promised you'd never use magic on me without asking me first!"

"No, I didn't. I said I'd never use magic on you without asking you first unless it was for your own good. To protect you or save your life. This is one of those times. Now, answer my question, Gavin."

The boy bit his lip, trying to determine if there was a way to get around Severus' restrictions. But the Director had not left him any loopholes and he was forced to agree to the older man's rules. "Fine. I'll go and rest and watch TV myself."

"Smart of you."

Gavin smiled angelically at his guardian. "Of course. You don't teach any dumb apprentices, sir." Then he added with a sly smirk, "Besides, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself trying to catch me or anything, Sev."

Harry choked. Lord, the kid's got more sand than brains!

"Excuse me?" Snape said in a menacing tone, glowering down at the child fiercely. "Are you implying I couldn't catch you if I wanted, you impudent little brat? Because I assure you, mister, that this leg of mine is more than capable of allowing me to move quick enough to grab a smartass kid by the ear and put him to bed just as I said. Care to test me?"

Gavin eyed his guardian thoughtfully.

Don't do it, kid, Harry met the boy's eyes and shook his head slightly. Don't be stupid like I was. It's not worth it. He always does what he promises, no matter what. If there was one thing he'd learned as Snape's student, it was that the professor never threatened, he promised. Severus Snape was a man of his word and he never made promises he couldn't keep.

"No sir." Gavin said after a moment.

"Go on, get out of here before I change my mind," Severus growled at the insolent brat, who flashed him a cheeky grin before scurrying down the hallway. "Wretched scamp! You see what I have to put up with, Potter? That's going to be you in a few years, so be prepared."

Harry winced. "Would you really have done what you said?"

"Have you ever known me to say something and then not follow through with it?"

"Uh, no. Not really."

"Exactly. Here's a bit of advice I learned long ago. Set consequences for certain behavior and stick to them. Say what you mean and then do it. All the time. Don't ever threaten and then not follow through on your promise, it sets a very bad precedent and confuses the child. And it makes you look wishy washy. I make a point of never threatening a child with something I won't be able to carry out."

"You threatened to have me expelled after that time with Mr. Weasley's flying car," Harry couldn't resist pointing out. "And it never happened."

"Make no mistake, Potter, I would have done it had I been Headmaster," Snape frowned. "Your stupid stunt put our very world at risk, and it was completely unnecessary."

"Unnecessary! We couldn't get on the train to come to school," Harry protested.

"True, but you could have waited to inform an adult of the situation, instead of being so bloody impulsive and stealing a magic car that you didn't know how to operate and nearly crashing it to bits as well as revealing to half the Muggles in north Yorkshire that magic wasn't just in fairytales. But no, you had to behave like a reckless idiot and endanger yourself and your best friend."

"It was Ron's idea, not mine!"

"Ah, but you agreed to it, which makes you equally guilty," Severus scolded. "And well you know it. An accessory to a crime is still culpable under the law, is that not so, Auror Potter?"

Harry glanced away, feeling an angry flush shoot up the back of his neck. Damn the man! Why oh why did he always have to make such bloody perfect sense? "All right. You're right, Severus. Happy now?"

"Thrilled," Snape replied, his mouth twitching into a half smirk. Harry glared at him. "Try and remember what I just told you. It'll save you a good deal of aggravation."

"The way it did you?" Harry snorted.

"Believe me, having rules and consequences kept me sane for over sixteen years of teaching all you incorrigible brats."

"Could have fooled me."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Potter. Or else I'll wish on you the worst fate any parent can imagine."

"What's that? Death?"

"Not even close. I'll wish you have kids just like you."

"You really are evil!"

Snape merely smirked. Then he turned away to put the kettle on, ignoring Harry's petulant glare. That would teach the young whelp to make fun of his elders, the Director thought, his eyes sparkling wickedly. You'd think he'd have learned by now that few people could ever best Severus Snape in a battle of wits. Not even the Slayer of Voldemort.