Gavin awoke to a sunny morning. He stretched and sat up, thankful that his stomach was no longer hurting. The nausea and cramps had vanished thanks to the potions Severus had made him take and now he even felt hungry. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and winced when he saw it was only 6:30.

Way too early to get up, especially after the night he'd had. But his early rising was a legacy of living at the orphanage, when Ferrous used to rouse him and the others at the crack of dawn to get started on their cleaning chores. Now the habit was so ingrained in him that he found it almost impossible to break.

The boy rubbed his eyes, knowing he was free to go back to sleep, that in fact his guardian would probably order him to do so if he knew Gavin was awake. Yet, despite his lingering tiredness, Gavin did not feel like going back to sleep. He no longer feared the nightmares, they rarely came when he slept during the day, only at night. He flushed, recalling how he'd fallen apart last night. Just what Severus needed, a ten-year-old who cried like a little baby over a dream, he thought derisively. Stupid nightmares! Damn them to hell and damn Ferrous too, the miserable bloody bastard! It was too bad he couldn't go to Riker's Island, he'd have enjoyed using his power to curse the sadistic manager, even though he'd never used his magic before to cast any sort of spell.

He was certain he could manage it, just seeing the man would make him angry enough to use his latent talent. Then he sighed, recalling Severus lecturing him once on the dangers of using magic when you were angry, emotions made spells too strong, and could result in dreadful accidents if you weren't careful. Severus had stressed the need for control when using magic, control over his mind and his feelings. Gavin knew he had no control where Ferrous was concerned, especially now, when he was finally free of the terrible shadow the manager had cast over him.

Well, almost free, he amended. He wondered if Severus would require him to tell Arista, who was his therapist as well as his big sister, about this incident. Usually he didn't mind those sessions, Arista was very understanding and she never mocked him for crying or scolded him for using bad language during his sessions with her. She also never discussed what went on there with anyone, not even Severus. "Anything that you tell me stays between us, Gavin," she had reassured him the first time he'd gone to her. "That's my Empath's Oath on it. As well as patient confidentiality, to put it in Muggle terms."

He knew she was telling the truth, empaths hated lies and thus always made a point to speak the truth. He wondered what it meant that he was having nightmares again about Ferrous, this had been the first one in over a month. Maybe it had happened because he was sick and anxious. Even though he knew he shouldn't, there were still times he worried that if he screwed up too much or caused too many problems for Severus, the man would send him away. After all he wasn't really the man's son, not by blood, and even with the adoption, a part of him was still frightened that one day he would do or say something to make Severus so disgusted he would tell him to leave and never return.

He knew he wasn't anyone's idea of a well-behaved child, though he tried as best he could to control his temper and not get mad when the other kids at school teased him for being a street brat and he did his best to ignore the way some of the teachers always looked at him slyly whenever someone acted up in class, thinking he was somehow instigating it. (Sometimes he was, but most of the time not, since he had promised Severus he'd behave two weeks ago.) He knew it was horribly embarrassing for the Director to keep getting called to school because his son was a troublemaker, and yet Gavin found trouble followed him like shadow.

Maybe Ferrous was right after all, Gavin thought miserably, scrunching his knees up to his chest and staring out the window moodily. I'm nothing but a worthless, good-for-nothing, devil's spawn. A freak that not even my own mother loved, probably. Else why would she have left me like that?

The fact that his mother had abandoned him had left a wound on his spirit that had not healed even now. He wondered if it ever would. He loved and admired Severus, but even he could not replace the aching hole his mother had left behind. He could almost hear Ferrous harsh voice yelling, "You want to know why she left you here, lazy boy? Because you're a freak, heir to the powers of darkness, and you contaminated her very presence by drawing breath!"

Gavin drew in a deep breath, then shoved Ferrous' irritating voice into the back of his mind. Severus had told him he should do that whenever he found himself recalling the awful things his orphan manager had said. That's not true! He yelled back at the phantom Ferrous. I'm not a freak, and magic is not evil. I'm a wizard, and a powerful one, Sev says so. And he cares for me, maybe even loves me, else why would he have adopted me and taken me as his apprentice?

Feeling much better for having told off the doubting part of his conscience, Gavin pushed the covers off and began to rummage through his drawers for clothes. Severus's neaten-up charm yesterday had put all of his clothes away in the dresser and now he had no idea where anything was.

At last he located his favorite T-shirt, a green one with the words Got Potions? Scrawled across the front above a smoking cauldron and tugged it on as well as a pair of gray sweatpants. He put on socks, because he knew Severus would scold if he saw him going about barefoot after being sick.

The boy's mouth twitched in a lopsided grin. It took some getting used to, having another person caring about his health, if he lived or died. Ferrous would have been pleased to bury him, and even the Ravens looked out for themselves first and foremost. Certainly none of them would have worried about him getting sick again by not dressing properly. Or eating properly. For the first four months he'd come to live with the Director, Severus had made him drink a Nutrient Potion, which tasted horrible, but would give him back the essential vitamins and minerals and amino acids his body had been denied for the first ten years of his life.

"It won't totally reverse the damage that's been done by you being malnourished, but it'll help your body continue growing at a normal rate," Snape had told him. "You'll never be a particularly tall man, Gavin, but at least you won't be scrawny and underfed."

Gavin had never given much thought about growing up before, out on the streets you lived day to day and didn't worry too much about the future, because you never knew if you'd have a future. Live in the moment, because the moment may be all you've got, was an old street maxim.

But so long as he lived here, Gavin knew his chances of a future were assured. He loved living here, the little house on Lily Lane in Point Pleasant was everything he'd ever wanted when he'd imagined a home. He had his own room, plenty to eat, and clean clothes and shoes to wear, and he need never worry about going cold and starving again.

Nor did he have to worry about cops arresting him for stealing, for no cop would arrest the Director's son. Not that they'd have to arrest me if Sev ever caught me lifting something. That had been one of the conditions in Gavin's Articles of Apprenticeship, which was the document all fledgling wizards had to agree to and sign when they had found a magical tutor. "No apprentice of mine is ever going to be a thief. So think carefully about that before you sign, because if I ever catch you snitching something, mister, you'll be the sorriest boy that ever lived, understand?"

Gavin didn't doubt his master for an instant. Severus had shown him the Master Codes, which were the articles that dictated how a teacher was to treat an apprentice, and the codes stated that a master must always treat an apprentice fairly and were forbidden to use curses and magic to punish a misbehaving apprentice. They also stated that no true corporal punishment was allowed, meaning the master was not allowed to beat a student using whips, belts, or switches of any kind. A smack or two with an open hand was permitted, or a mild spanking if the child warranted it, but no more. Severus had explained that he was bound by the Codes once he'd signed his name to the document, and in any case he didn't believe in using much corporal punishment as discipline.

"But mark me, Gavin, if I ever find out you've been stealing things, I will wallop you a few good ones. Though it will probably be the only time I would ever think of raising a hand to you, child."

Gavin had said only, "Yes, sir." He vowed that he would never give his guardian a reason to have to punish him that way. Having grown up under Ferrous, he knew how to take a beating without flinching or crying if he had to, but it didn't lessen the fact that he hated being hit. And while he sensed that Sev's punishment wouldn't be anything near what he'd endured from Ferrous, he never wanted to make the Director angry enough to strike him. Severus's disappointment when his ward misbehaved hurt a dozen times more than a beating, since Gavin valued the man's opinion so highly.

That hadn't been the case when he'd first come to stay here, he thought with a rueful grin. In the beginning, he'd been as rude and disrespectful as he could be allowed to get away with. Which hadn't been much, given the fact that Snape was no slouch as a disciplinarian. Gavin soon learned that his new guardian didn't tolerate disrespect, though Severus was a bit more tolerant of him than he would have been any other child, since he took into account the boy's background and lack of any kind of reasonable adult figure.

Severus used the rule of three when it came to consequences, meaning he gave Gavin three chances to obey and do what he was told. After three duly given warnings, he punished the boy. And while he wasn't cruel or abusive, his punishments were no joke. During the first month, Severus had meted out several hours worth of extra chores, lines, scoldings, being sent to his room ( where Gavin was not permitted to do anything except stare at the wall), and once or twice a session with a bar of soap. Gavin had a filthy mouth from his days on the streets, but that was one thing Snape wouldn't tolerate, and the first time the boy had used the F-word, he'd washed his mouth out with soap.

"What about the rule of three?" Gavin had cried, once he could talk without gagging.

"That rule doesn't apply to this," Severus had told him bluntly. "Every time you use that word, Mister Snape, this is what will happen. No child of mine will ever be permitted to swear like that, and I will break you of this habit, no matter how long it takes. Or how many bars of soap. You are old enough to control your tongue, and to think before you speak. I would suggest you do so, then we won't need to repeat this lesson."

To his credit, the child did try to clean up his speech, though when he was upset or angry he occasionally forgot, but he was doing so less and less, for he really hated the taste of soap! Snape had also explained that Gavin's use of such words was not only offensive and insulting, but ignorant and showed a distinct lack of class. "People will treat you like a street brat if that's how you act. So if you don't want them to see you that way, you need to start acting like a well-mannered child and using regular words to express your feelings, not swearing every other minute."

Gavin caught his mouth quirking up in a smile as he recalled Severus's words. Funny, how he recalled even the man's lectures with fondness, because he knew the wizard genuinely cared about him, cared enough to correct him and keep him from making an ass out of himself. He was the only adult who had ever cared enough to give him a real name, and made him feel like a person, not a useless piece of trash.

Gradually, he'd learned to trust the older man, until now he felt comfortable teasing and joking with him, something he only did when he was certain the person would not harm or betray him. Yes, living here was very like paradise, or at least his own version of it. No one called him freak or idiot, he was not looked upon as lower than dirt, and best of all, the magic that was his birthright was not considered evil, but a gift.

"A gift you must learn to use," Severus had told him. "Magic is part of you, son, like your dark hair and eyes, it won't go away ever. So you must learn to accept it and then use it, or it will end up using you."

Eventually, he'd learned to stop flinching and cringing when his magic caused something odd to happen-like a chair to levitate or a can of soda to suddenly transform into a pear and back. Once, when he was angry at Snape for grounding him for fighting at school, he'd made several plates on the counter shatter.

That had scared him so much he was certain he was in for a whipping with a belt for being a destructive freak. He'd immediately started babbling apologies, promising he'd never ever do it again, and going to clean up the glass scattered all over the floor.

But Severus had halted him, saying only, "See, that's what I mean about emotions affecting magic. Anger makes your magic act unpredictably, with results you don't expect or want." Then he'd fixed the plates with a repairing charm in two seconds, adding sternly, "And you're still grounded, mister. Now go wash up for supper and then afterwards you do your homework and go to bed."

Gavin had been relieved to have gotten off so lightly, he'd been expecting a lecture and a smack at the very least. But Severus's groundings were no laughing matter. It meant no TV, no video games (the TV and the game system were removed from his bedroom), a bunch of chores inside and outside, no going to the movies or anything remotely fun after school, and a half-hour earlier bedtime as well.

Nothing like the backbreaking work he used to do for Ferrous, scrubbing the floors with ammonia and water until his hands cracked and bled, cutting firewood until his back was so sore he couldn't straighten up. Compared to that, Snape's chores were. . .just chores, boring and mindless, but nothing more. Not that he liked doing them, because he didn't, but it could have been a whole lot worse.

He slipped from the room and walked like a cat down the hallway to the den. Harry was sound asleep on the couch, covered in a dark green blanket, and there was no sign of Severus, so Gavin assumed the master wizard was also asleep.

He entered the kitchen, trying to figure out what he could make for breakfast that wouldn't upset his stomach. The obvious answer was tea and toast, but he didn't feel like that and wanted something a bit more substantial. He chewed his lower lip and opened the pantry, gazing at the rows of canned goods, cereal, pasta, and other food.

He finally decided on some instant oatmeal. He used to hate eating oatmeal at the orphanage, because it was usually either too thin or like glue and didn't have much sweetener or anything else in it to make it taste like anything except paste. He'd eaten it however, since he didn't want to starve. But Severus had taught him how to make oatmeal that actually tasted good, with lots of brown sugar, cinnamon, cream and bananas.

So he set about boiling some water, making enough for himself only, since he didn't want to wake the others and cold oatmeal was disgusting. He didn't add a lot of brown sugar or a whole banana, since he wasn't sure how much his stomach would tolerate, but it still tasted heavenly.

He ate slowly, relishing each spoonful, and drinking a special blend of chamomile mint tea that Severus told him was good for upset stomachs. He'd nearly finished the whole bowl when Harry stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Morning, Gavin," he mumbled. "Got any coffee?"

"Uh, yeah," the boy answered.

"You don't want him making you coffee, Harry," interjected Severus from behind the other man. He was wearing an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt stained from old potions experiments, his usual night clothes. "Otherwise you'll end up with mud."

Gavin made a face at him. "Not my fault you never taught me how. So blame yourself, Sev."

"Guess you're feeling better, huh, brat?" Snape said, and mock-cuffed the boy on the back of the head. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so cheeky." He glanced down at Gavin's almost empty bowl of oatmeal. "Good, your appetite's back to normal. Looks like you can go back to school Monday."

Gavin groaned. "I don't wanna. My stomach still feels sick."

Severus eyed him sternly, suspecting the boy was just playacting to get out of going to school. "Oh? Then I need to give you some more potions and put you back to bed."

"No! I mean, I don't feel all that sick. It's getting better, honest, Sev."

"Really? It's a miracle," his guardian snorted. Then he moved over to the counter and began making coffee. "What would you like for breakfast, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, taking a seat next to Gavin. His green eyes looked tired. "Whatever you feel like making. I don't usually eat much in the morning, Severus."

His former professor frowned. "Breakfast is important, if you don't eat, your body won't function properly. The two of you, no wonder you're both smaller than average, you're probably vitamin deficient too, Harry." He stared at the Auror thoughtfully. "Maybe you need to start taking a Nutrient Potion supplement. When was the last time you had a check-up with a healer?"

"Uh, I don't know. Probably not since I left school."

"Humph! You really ought to let Arista examine you then. You're underweight, or I'm no medic."

Harry bristled. "I'm normal for my size!"

"Sure, if you were still sixteen. But you aren't, and if your eating habits are still as abysmal as they were at school, you probably ought to have a vitamin supplement," Severus argued. He waved his wand and a flask with a green substance appeared before Harry. "Take that, it'll give you more energy, at least."

Harry frowned at it.

"Ugh!" Gavin made a face. "Don't drink it, Harry! It tastes gross!"

"Mind your own business, Gavin," Severus ordered crisply. "Drink it, Potter, it won't kill you."

"But you'll wish it had," Gavin muttered, earning himself a long look from Severus.

"Who does he think he is, my father?" Harry said under his breath. He blushed as he recalled last night, with Severus humming him to sleep, just as if he were a little kid. Still, it had been very comforting, though he'd never say it out loud. That had been something he'd wished for as long as he could remember. He eyed the potion, met Snape's challenging gaze, then he swallowed the awful-tasting draft, just to prove he could, since he didn't want to seem like a wimp in front of the kid. "Ugh! Why can't you put something in that to make it taste better?"

"Because it'll dilute the potency, you ought to know that," Severus replied. He gave Harry a glass of orange juice to drink, then began making bacon and scrambled eggs and toast.