Remus went off to fetch the pensieve, and Harry accompanied him for a tour of the house.

Snape took a deep breath and forced himself to approach Black. He had a favor to ask, and he might as well get it over with. Though it might be sensible to start with a pleasant topic first. “What have you been doing to torture the Muggles lately?”

Sirius perked up. “We talked to the Bertie Bott's Company – you know, they make the Every Flavor Beans?” Snape nodded. “Being a celebrity makes everything so much easier. I just had to send an owl and they were falling all over themselves to help me. Anyway, they showed us the spells they use to get the really disgusting flavors, and we’ve spiked the Muggles’ food. Pretty much everything they eat tastes like vomit, pig shite, rotten onions, week-old roadkill, dead rat, ear wax, toe jam… Even those two fatties are losing weight. Dursley must have dropped a stone by now.” Sirius’ evil grin was a little too reminiscent of his expression when he stalked Snape through the corridors of Hogwarts. Snape had to fight off the urge to draw his wand.

Still, it was an inspired punishment for those gluttons. “Quite inventive. Perhaps I could give you a few flavor suggestions from my work with Potions ingredients?” he offered.

“Yeah, sure.”

Encouraged by Black’s congenial tone, Snape decided to request the favor. He doubted the Marauder would acquiesce, but he couldn’t risk not asking. If Black had been more of a Slytherin, like the rest of his benighted family, Snape could have bargained – in the Slytherin universe, everything has a price, so everything is negotiable- but Gryffindors didn’t think like that. They sneered at deals. If they liked you, they’d do anything for you; if they didn’t, it would be snowing in Hades before they’d so much as spit on your burning corpse.

Snape forced his voice to remain cold and uncaring as he said, “I would like to request that you delay your lawsuit until the end of the school year.”

There. He’d said it. Quite politely too. No one could claim he’d antagonized the mutt.

Black looked confused. Stupid Gryffindor. “What lawsuit? I thought you said the whole point of cutting the deal with Fudge and accepting his apology was so that things wouldn’t get bogged down with the Wizengamot.”

Snape managed not to roll his eyes. “The custody lawsuit, Black. The one to gain guardianship of the boy.”

“Who? Harry?”

“No, Weasley. Or perhaps Malfoy? I had no idea that you considered the little brats so interchangeable.”

Black scowled. “Very funny, Sniv - er, Snape. What are you talking about? I’m not after Harry.”

Yeah, right. Now Snape couldn’t resist the eye roll. “So you’re simply going to leave your best friend’s orphan in the greasy clutches of your worst enemy? Pull the other one, Black.”

Ha! He’d known it was a ploy. Black was now looking embarrassed. Obviously he hadn’t expected his little ruse to be so transparent. “Erm, you’re not greasy. Not anymore, anyway.”

Snape brushed the incoherent babble aside. “Black, Harry’s first year hardly got off to a smooth start. He’s had to adjust to a new school, new culture, new guardian, new friends, all while simultaneously dealing with attempts on his life, fighting first a troll and then the Dark Lord… Giving him some additional stability for the rest of the school calendar would be to his advantage, while enmeshing him in a custody battle which will surely play out across the Prophet’s front page, will not – “

“Snape!” Sirius sounded as if he were grinding his teeth. “Would you listen to me, you damned bat? I am not suing for custody.”

Severus merely gave him a cold look of disbelief, then continued, “As I was saying, a custody battle will distract him from exams and make him worry about where he will be living over the summer holidays.” He didn’t know what Black was hoping to achieve with his ridiculous denials, but he was a rank amateur at such mind games. Snape had been screwed with by the best – Dumbledore, Voldemort, his own father…Even during their schooldays Sirius had never been one for subtle plots and tortures. In contrast to most of his ancestors, he would scorn an untraceable slow-acting poison; his style was pure Gryffindor in-your-face. Black had always wanted to see the blood and pain his torment was causing and he had had no patience to wait for it. In all their time at Hogwarts, he had never toyed with Snape’s mind like this. Obviously he had learned some new tricks at Azkaban.

Snape sighed and continued, wanting to end the charade before the brat returned. “He may not appear so, but Harry remains quite apprehensive about being sent back to those Muggles, and a perceived lack of stability will-“

“SNAPE! Would you listen to me, you fuckwit! Has inhaling potion fumes made you stupid? I have TOLD you that –“

“Oi!” Harry and Remus had returned in time to catch the last comment, and a glaring Harry marched up to his godfather. “Don’t you call him names!”

Sirius raked his hands through his hair in exasperated fury. “He’s driving me crazy, Pronglet! He won’t listen!”

“He listens to me,” Harry countered fiercely, causing Snape to preen. Then Harry paused. “What did you just call me?”

“Pronglet. Or Prongs Junior. Your dad’s animagus name was Prongs, so when you were born, we all started calling you Little Prongs and Pronglet…” Sirius grinned. “Like it?”

Harry grinned back, his irritation forgotten, much to Snape’s annoyance. Disloyal little viper.

“Yeah.” Then he held up a cautionary finger. “But only ‘til I have a form of my own. ‘Cause I might have teeth,” he pointed out hopefully.

“What were you two yelling about?” Remus asked, always the voice of calm reason.

“Oh!” Sirius turned to Harry. “Hey, Pronglet – “ he ignored Snape’s furious signals to shut up “ – do you want to come live with me?”

Harry frowned uncomprehendingly. “Huh? I live with Pr’fessor Snape now. When I’m not at Hogwarts, I mean. I mean, when I’m not living in the dorms with the other kids an’ all.”

“Yes,” Sirius agreed patiently, “but wouldn’t you rather live with me? Your parents named me your godfather.”

Harry looked troubled, and he glanced over at his professor. Snape had managed to regain his composure, but he seethed with fury beneath that frozen expression. Leave it to Black to do exactly what he had hoped to avoid and involve the boy. The bastard had no discretion or – quite possibly – any higher brain function whatsoever.

Harry chewed his lip anxiously. He didn’t want to offend anyone, and he thought his godfather might well turn out to be a lot of fun, but all this talk of taking him away from his professor was making him nervous.

Snape caught the lip chewing and felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Obviously the boy was trying to work out how to tell him that he wanted to live with his blasted godfather. Well, fine. It wasn’t like he had expected anything else.

“Well,” Harry said cautiously, edging closer to Professor Snape in case his rather excitable godfather reacted badly to what he was about to say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting you, y’know, like the Weasleys.”

“But don’t you want to live with me? Instead of Snape?” Sirius pressed.

Snape ground his teeth together. Of course Black would make Harry come out and say it right in front of him. He forced his features to remain expressionless. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing how much this renunciation was going to hurt. It was his own fault, anyway. He knew better than to allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, let alone another Gryffindor. Hadn’t he learned anything from the agony of his relationship with Lily? This was what happened when you let your guard down. He’d been a sentimental idiot, and now he was going to pay the price. He braced himself as the boy started to speak.

Harry had tried. He really had. But obviously Sirius wasn’t going to be put off with polite evasions. Be a Gryffindor, Harry! Show them you have courage! Even if his godfather was furious and never wanted to see him again, it wasn’t that bad, right? Professor McGonagall would probably help him learn to be an animagus if he asked her. And even if she wouldn’t do it for him, she probably would if Professor Snape was the one to make the request.

Harry felt a pang at the thought of losing this link to his parents, but by now he’d heard so many stories about them from Hagrid and Professor McGonagall and Auntie Molly and Uncle Arthur and Professor Flitwick… As soon as his professor had let it be known that his relatives hadn’t told him anything, people had begun sharing their memories and sending him pictures and… Harry sighed happily. It was just another example of how well Professor Snape looked after him. He made sure that Harry knew just how many people cared about him. He was so surrounded by love now that losing one or two people – even if it was his godfather – just didn’t make that much of a difference. So he braced himself and spoke. “No, sir. I don’t want t’live with you. I’d rather live with Pr’fessor Snape.”

There was an odd roaring noise. Snape wondered faintly whether there was an ocean nearby, but they were in Switzerland, weren’t they?

“Oh, for – GRAB HIM!” He heard Black shout at someone and tried to look around, but there was a hard hand at the back of his neck and all he could see was the floor.

It took him a moment to realize that he was seated on the sofa and someone was holding his head between his knees. He fought free and found himself nose to nose with a pale-looking Harry.

“Are you okay, Pr’fessor?” the boy asked anxiously. “You looked really weird there for a minute.”

“He just needs a cup of tea,” Remus said comfortingly. “Come help me call the house elves.”

Black dropped down next to him, grinning like a fiend, but Snape was so confused at the moment that all he could do was blink at him. “See?” Black said happily. “I told you you were a fuckwit. Why would I try to get custody? Harry wants to stay with you.”

“But – but – but –“ Snape felt as if someone had hit him with a Confundus. Had he actually heard the boy choose him over his godfather? And Black wasn’t having raging hysterics about it?

“Sheesh, Snape, you’d think we were still kids and hated each other,” Black said, laughing a little uncomfortably. “I mean, did you really expect me to take Harry away from you after all you’ve done for both of us? What kind of prick do you think I am?” Then he hastily added, “No, don’t answer that.”

He nervously raked his hand through his hair again. “Look, I know I haven’t exactly got a good track record where you’re concerned, but I meant what I said at Azkaban. I am sorry for all the things we – I – put you through, and I’m really grateful to you for taking care of Harry and getting me out of there and… well, even if I were enough of a bastard to ignore everything you’ve done, I’d still not be in any shape to take Harry.” For a moment, the look in Black’s eyes reminded Severus of the wreck he had seen in the cell at Azkaban. “I’m still having a lot of nightmares, and I get upset really easily, and my memory’s shocking…” Black gave a sudden, savage grin. “But the Dursleys are great for helping me work out what Remus calls my ‘anger issues’ and I’m doing my best to enjoy myself and make up for lost time in other ways – it really is amazing what those Swiss birds do with chocolate – but I’m not able to be a dad for Harry right now, and that’s what he needs. And since he’s already found a father, I’m certainly not about to do anything to destroy Pronglet’s happiness. Besides, if I were stupid enough to think of doing it, James would return from the dead to kick my arse. And Lily would be right behind him.”

Snape had honestly believed that nothing could shock him as badly as the boy’s preferring him to Black, but Black’s actually referring to him as Harry’s father did it. He found his head back between his knees as Black shouted to Remus to hurry up with the tea.

“Are you all right, Pr’fessor? Maybe you should have a biscuit,” Harry offered, hovering worriedly. “D’you want me to go an’ get Madame Pomfrey? Or…do they have wizard doctors here in Switzerland?”

Snape’s pride finally reasserted itself. He was not about to sit here like an overemotional Hufflepuff! He managed to straighten up, ignoring the spots flashing before him. “I’m fine, Mr Potter, and do not think I was so overcome I did not see you pocket those cream cakes. Kindly remove them at once.”

Harry blushed guiltily. “They weren’t for me,” he protested, pulling out the now-linty cakes. “I was savin’ ‘em for Ron an’ Hermione.”

“Hmf.” Snape sipped at his tea and grimaced. Had the werewolf upended the sugar bowl into his cup?

“Sugar is good for shock.” Remus interpreted his expression correctly. “It will speed your recovery. Trust me.”

Snape huffed again, but he was beginning to feel a little better. Events had just been… unexpected.

Harry sat on the couch next to him, not quite on his lap, but definitely closer than decorum indicated. He gave the brat a sharp nudge, but of course he was oblivious to such subtle corrections. Snape gave up with a sigh. There would be plenty of time later on for etiquette lessons, and – if truth be told – just now he rather liked having the boy so near.

Harry made sure to sit extra-close to his professor, so he could keep an eye on the man. He hadn’t liked it at all when his professor had gone all funny, but Remus insisted he’d be fine and it was probably just something he’d eaten. Still, Harry was going to stick close for the rest of the visit. His professor must have noticed, because he gave him a friendly little nudge as Harry sat down, as if to say “thanks for being there”. Harry scooted even closer. He knew how awful it was to be alone when you were sick, and he definitely didn’t want his guardian to feel that way. “If you need anything, just let me know,” he told Snape sternly. “You sit and rest, okay?”

Snape tried to understand what had just happened as he sipped his too-sweet tea. Black had actually been… pleasant. He had endorsed the brat’s affection for Snape (nonsensical though it was) and had appeared quite sincere in his intentions not to assume custody of the child. Snape could not have been more surprised if a house elf had punched him in the nose.

Of course, Black had called him a “fuckwit”, but for Black that was practically a term of endearment.

Sirius finally managed to drag a hovering Harry away and began pulling memories out of his head and placing them in the pensieve, much to the boy’s fascinated disgust. Remus settled next to Snape, and it was a measure of how rattled the Slytherin was that he didn’t recoil from the werewolf’s proximity.

“You look a bit confused,” Remus said, his voice quiet.

“Has Black recently suffered head trauma?” Snape asked seriously.

Remus muffled a laugh. “No, but I was wondering if you had. You’re usually much quicker on the uptake.”

“The workings of Gryffindor minds – such as they are – remain mysterious to me,” Snape retorted, giving him a dirty look.

Remus grinned. “Better get used to it. You’re living with one now.” He glanced over at where Harry was warily peering into the pensieve. “But I don’t see what’s so confusing.”

“You don’t see anything at all odd about Black – Sirius Black – consenting to allow his godson, the orphan of James Potter, to be raised by a greasy Slytherin who is offensive merely by existing?”

Remus had the grace to color. “Merlin, Severus, we were what, sixteen? I’d have thought you might have forgotten by now.”

“And you have such a short memory for those who call you names, wolf?”

Remus sighed. “Touche. It was inexcusable then and now, but Sirius really does regret it, you know. As do I.”

“He did apologize,” Snape commented begrudgingly.

Remus heard what Snape had not consciously intended. “Please let me do the same. Severus, I am sincerely sorry for my actions. We treated you abominably, and we were never properly punished. Your treatment of Harry proves that you are – and were – the better man.”

This was not helping Snape’s mental health. Apologetic Gryffindors? Mouthing the very lines his teenaged self had longed to hear? Maybe he didn’t need to worry about Voldemort after all – surely the Apocalypse was upon them. How many more Signs of the End Times did he need?

Remus sensed his befuddlement. “Severus, I may be the one with the wolf inside me, but Padfoot has always shown a doglike devotion for his friends. His loyalty, once given, is so strong that he would have made a good Hufflepuff, if it hadn’t taken such obvious courage to break with the rest of his family and join the Light.”

“And this is supposed to have something to do with him not hexing me or taking Harry?” Snape demanded testily.

“What is the most important thing in Sirius’ life?” Remus asked, seemingly at random.

“Casual sex,” Snape replied promptly.

Remus choked, then laughed in delight. “Actually, that’s number two. Number one is Harry – he’s all that we have left of James and Lily, but even more than that, Padfoot swore to look after Harry if anything happened to them.”

“And a fine job he’s done to date,” Snape sneered.

“That’s exactly the point, Severus. Once Sirius realized what had happened to Harry and saw what you have done for him – and for Sirius himself – he realized how badly we had misjudged you. You broke him out of Azkaban when you learned he was innocent. You weren’t stopped by the fact that you hated him – or the fact that he couldn’t stand you. You did the right thing regardless of your personal feelings. Of course he felt grateful. And then to realize that, when you discovered Harry’s situation, you had done the same thing for him? Severus, you saved the only thing in this world that Padfoot really cares about. You did it when Dumbledore wouldn’t, and Sirius couldn’t, and – “ Remus swallowed hard but forced the words out, his voice thick with guilt “ – and I didn’t. You were the only one who was there for Harry, even though you owed him nothing and could feel only hatred towards his family. Sirius and I know how much we owe you and that you are – despite being a ‘greasy Slytherin git’ – a very good person. Much better than us, in fact... Like it or not, Severus, you’re now a Marauder too. You’re part of our Pack.”

How ignominious. Snape mused gloomily that this was every bit as bad as being an honorary Weasley. What more humiliation would the brat have in store for him? All he wanted to do was to prevent the Dark Lord from murdering the boy, but at this rate, he’d be a bloody Gryffindor before Harry was in third year.