A family of three stumbled along the pavement of one of London’s many roads. They were laughing and talking joyously, relieved to finally be almost home after so long away. Their clothes were ragged and their faces dirty, but they still smiled and let their loud voices echo out into the night.

It had taken them three days after their captors had disappeared to work up enough courage to slip out of the cell where they had been held, and out into the countryside. It had taken them another two to reach a town and take a bus back into London; luckily, the people who had been masquerading as their clients had not taken their money, having had no use for it. They had got many, many strange looks for their dishevelled state and had been turned out of four cafes before they’d been able to get any food, but none of that mattered now that they were almost home.

Yet another person opened an upstairs window and yelled at them to keep it down, but once again they paid them no heed, continuing to talk and laugh loudly amongst themselves.

The grown man felt someone reach out and tap him on the shoulder and he grunted, halting his wife and son before turning to face the people who had stopped them.

Three screams of terror rent the night before they were abruptly cut off.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

That week and a half before term started was the worst in Harry’s life. Granted, it could have been a whole lot worse, but it was still pretty bad. Harry spent a lot of time moping around the house, not answering anyone’s letters and trying his damndest not to cry every time he saw his reflection. He looked practically identical to how Shadow had been, now. High cheekbones, a slight kink in the nose, sharp chin and of course the long, soft, brown hair whose colour, Snape said, was halfway between his own and Harry’s mother’s. It was a blessing not to have to wear glasses anymore, but Harry would have traded his very eyes for one more day with Shadow.

He had to constantly remind himself that the boy on the other side of the glass – any glass – was not Shadow; he had no scar on his cheek. But there still were days when he half expected his reflection to talk back to him. It was like he’d woken from a dream… or descended into a nightmare.

The only thing that kept him afloat surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, was Snape. The man neither tried to get him to talk about his feelings, nor tried to push him into accepting any other human contact. He seemed to understand that Harry could not cope with that yet.

The only thing he did do was to regularly drag Harry out of his room for meals, and for chores that Harry felt sure Snape could have done easily by magic. The one time Harry had tried to defy Snape by ignoring his summons all together and continuing to stare blankly at the wall, Snape had simply told him that if he found the wall so interesting, he could come downstairs, stand in the corner of Snape’s study and examine the wall there. Sulky as Harry had been, he hadn’t wanted to end up standing pointlessly for hours on end, so he’d come downstairs, grumbling as he went until he was silenced by a glare from his father.

“If you don’t wish to talk about that which is troubling you-” Snape had managed to get out before his son interrupted him.

“I’m fine!” Harry had snapped, earning him a second glare.

“-then you have nothing to complain about. It is only your own stubbornness that is making you so miserable. If you don’t have anything productive to say, then don’t say anything at all.”

Harry had clicked his jaw shut and fumed silently, while mentally admitting that Snape had a point. Harry had been increasingly nasty to the man, and he was still stunned at how lenient Snape was being of his bad behaviour. In fact, the more bad-tempered Harry tried to be, the more Snape found for him to do, no matter how pointless the task was. Things like memorising his school texts before Snape quizzed him on them. Or things like helping in the Potions lab, which Snape wouldn’t even have considered letting Harry do before.

There was even one occasion when Snape had threatened to make him clean the Owlery with a toothpick unless he paid attention. That had distracted Harry for a blissful ten minutes, during which time he had tried to argue with Snape that there was no way that you could clean anything with a toothpick. Snape had won.

Harry both blessed and cursed Snape for his attention, knowing that it wasn’t good for him to hide away in his room, but longing to be left alone to feel miserable.

On the morning of August the thirtieth, Snape appeared at Harry’s door and called, “Come along, Harry,” as usual. And, as usual, Harry pulled himself out of bed and followed Snape, only pausing long enough to let his magic change his clothes and clean his teeth for him. Doing magic this way somehow made Harry feel closer to Shadow, and Snape’s only condition was that he’d always use his wand in public when he got back to Hogwarts. The wand in question now lay in Harry’s right pocket, though Snape had decided he didn’t want to reveal the location of the Invisibility Cloak yet.

Harry supposed he could fetch it for himself using his magic, but he felt strangely reluctant. Outside from using his power to complete the odd, mundane task, Harry was finding that it was much harder to manipulate these days. Snape had assured him that it was because his magical core healing itself after the ordeal it had gone through, but Harry wasn’t sure. There seemed to be a lot less of it these days.

Snape led him down the stairs, but didn’t double back left and go down the passageway towards the kitchen as he usually did. Harry stopped three steps from the bottom of the staircase and blinked at his father as he was torn from his musings.

“Well, Potter?” For some reason, his dad had continued to call him this even after the truth had come out. Only this time, instead of it being snapped out like a vile insult, it was voiced as if it were some fond nickname. Harry had come to the conclusion that his father was more than a little odd when it came to giving affection.

“Well what, Dad?” The new, almost terrifying word helped him to forget he was grieving for a little while, so he said it as often as possible. Strangely, after the first few days, Snape hadn’t seemed to mind. Harry was relieved that the older man had stopped twitching every time Harry used the title.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Snape handed Harry his coat and pulled on his own cloak before turning to the boy with one eyebrow raised. Sometimes, Snape could be far too stubborn.

“Fine!” Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Where are we going, then?”

Snape smirked. “Albus has a little surprise for you that he thought you might appreciate…”

“What? He thinks one of my familiars is a danger to my health, so they have to be killed too?” Harry snapped as he marched out the front door which Snape was holding open. “Well, thanks, but no thanks, I think!”

Snape sighed and fell into step beside him as they strode towards the Manor’s gates, but didn’t say anything to address the rudeness for once. Harry supposed it was because Snape had actually managed to get him out of the house without too much trouble, though Harry was puzzled as to why the man hadn’t fed him. He was normally adamant about Harry getting enough nutrition.

“Have you ever Apparated?”

“No,” Harry said, probably sounding as sulky as he felt.

“Then I shall try to make the experience – mostly – painless.”

Harry shot Snape a sharp look, but as usual, the man had his poker face on and Harry couldn’t discern anything.

Snape closed the gates behind them and pulled Harry close. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured into Harry’s hair. “You’ll like this surprise, I’m sure. Besides, I had a hand in this one myself…”

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus grasped Harry tightly as they appeared in Little Whinging; the boy was gasping and shivering at the alien sensation of being Apparated. Severus supposed he should have told him that Apparating with your mouth open tended to make your ears feel like they’d fallen off your head. Oh well, he knows now…

When he had recovered, Harry turned to glare at him. “You could have warned me!” he snapped, rubbing his ears hard.

Severus raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to sigh. “I seem to recall that I already did. And watch your tone, young man.” This constantly bad-tempered version of Harry was really getting on Severus’ nerves, but it was far better compared to seeing the lost, miserable look on the boy’s face when he remembered why he was in a bad mood. Severus hoped that what he was going to show Harry would give him something else to think about.

“Well, I didn’t think you were being serious…”

“The imperfection is yours.” Severus led them out of the bushes at the back of Mrs Figg’s garden and down the side path, out into Privet Drive.

“Hey!” Harry halted abruptly. “What are we doing here?” Severus saw the worry start in the boy’s eyes as he chewed his lip and wondered what on Earth had gotten into Harry now.

“We’re going to have breakfast,” Severus told him, eager to get this over and done with.

“I...um,” Harry looked at his feet, appearing utterly dejected, “you aren’t taking me back, are you, sir?” The hands had started twitching in his clothes again.

“Potter... What?” He almost groaned as the realisation hit him; he should have known that Harry would take it this way. “Certainly not.”

Shaking his head, he strode forwards, confidently expecting Harry to follow him.

He did. “So… You’re not taking me back? Even though I’ve been behaving really awfully this past week?”

Severus’ heart squeezed when he heard the plaintive note in Harry’s words.

“Stupid boy,” he snapped, not looking back. “You’re my son, I’m not about to trade you in just because you’ve had a bloody awful week.” Somehow, Severus could tell that Harry was smiling.

Strange boy – these days the only time he cheers up is when I insult him. I dread to think what classes with him will be like. I may be able to act how I please now, but that doesn’t mean I want students smiling at me during lessons; it would completely ruin my reputation!

Severus stopped at the front door of the Dursleys’ house and raised his hand to knock.

“Um, sir?”

He lowered his hand and looked down at the boy fidgeting beside him. “Yes, Harry?”

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” The irritating child bit his lip again. “I mean, they really hate magic and they would just spend most of their time insulting us while trying to hide behind each other…”

Severus smirked. “I think I can quite safely say that none of your predictions will be seen today. The Dursleys have undergone… a behavioural management program.”

Harry’s face was one giant question mark. “Excuse me?”

“You’ll see,” Severus said, and knocked.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

The door swung open to reveal Aunt Petunia, whose eyes went wide when she saw who, or maybe what, was standing on her doorstep.

And then, the strangest thing happened.

She stepped back, opened the door wide and bowed them in. Harry felt like his eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, but he obediently followed his dad through the open door and into the hallway. Aunt Petunia shut the door behind them and respectfully averted her eyes to the floor.

“May I take your coats, sirs?” Harry handed her his with numb fingers, feeling like he had just stepped into the Twilight Zone. Yes, there was his cupboard where it always had been, the slight scratches in the door were Dudley had run the house keys along it when Harry was locked in there. And yes, the rest of the house looked exactly as he remembered it, but the person standing in front of him was behaving nothing like the Aunt Petunia he knew.

“Harry.” Harry gulped and realised he had been staring. He looked up at his father with confused eyes. The smirk and self-satisfied expression on the man’s face was enough to convince Harry that he knew exactly what was going on.

Determined to suss out what was happening, Harry followed Snape into the kitchen where yet another strange sight met him. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were standing next to the sideboards; Dudley by a large, steaming pot of tea and Vernon next to a large platter of breakfast foods. To Harry’s further surprise, they also looked much slimmer, much more like the people they were meant to be instead of whales masquerading as human beings.

Finally Harry’s eyes fell on the last person in the room; Albus Dumbledore. The old man was comfortably seated at the kitchen table, cheerfully sipping away at a mug of tea held almost carelessly in his left hand.

“Harry, my boy!” Dumbledore smiled and raised his cup in a salute. “Why don’t you come and join us for breakfast?”

“I… um.” Harry realised that while he had been staring, Snape had taken a seat to the right of Dumbledore. Trying to be as composed as his father, Harry tried to slide into the chair opposite Dumbledore, but was startled once again as Dudley hurried forward and pulled it out for him. “Um, thanks,” he mumbled at the table, before managing to gather his courage and sit up straight. This was rather hard to do while Uncle Vernon was serving them all croissants.

“Professor Dumbledore?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Could you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Ah, well.” Dumbledore placed his mug on the table and laced his fingers together. “Professor Snape and I learned that your relatives had been... less than pleasant to you during all the years you had been staying here, so we decided to pay them a visit and,” the twinkle turned to steel, “teach them some manners.”

“But only after releasing them from the Malfoys first…” Dad grumbled into his coffee, waving away Dudley and the teapot.

“The… Malfoys…” Of course! After coming here solely for the purpose of kidnapping me, the Malfoys weren’t about to just say “Oh, sorry!” and walk away once they found me missing. Oh dear… Harry had a very hard time suppressing a smirk.

“Yes, we did have to track down the Malfoys and arrest them after Lucius escaped from Severus’ spells and kidnapped the Dursleys… but we decided to let you relatives find their own way home.”

Every single one of the Dursleys flinched.

“So, the day I had the broom accident, you were actually rounding up Death Eaters?” Harry stared at his father with more than a little awe.

“I suppose it was easy enough once we got past the Manor’s guards; peacocks do have very sharp beaks.”

“Excuse me?”

“And so now, Malfoy senior and his dear wife are languishing in Azkaban and their son is being looked after by our esteemed Headmaster,” Snape finished off. Dumbledore smirked and raised his mug again.

Harry snorted, and tried not to burst out laughing. The idea of ‘Draco’ being forced to spend his holidays with a man he had been disdainful of many times in the past was priceless. The fact that Harry’s father hadn’t invited Malfoy to stay at Tharabraye, when he clearly favoured him as a student, set a warm glow in Harry’s heart.

“And the Dursleys?”

“Oh, they managed to travel to within two streets of here,” Dumbledore said, waving his hand airily. “Of course, we accosted them before they could get any further.”

“Oh, of course,” Harry laughed. “But- you didn’t… hurt them or anything?” For some reason, Harry balked at the very idea of harm coming to the people who raised him; even Uncle Vernon. Strangely, the idea that the large man could be hurt sent chills down Harry’s spine – he knew how nasty it could be to feel truly powerless. Glancing at the man standing to the left of him, Harry wondered if there was something wrong with him.

“Nothing permanent, I’m afraid.” Dumbledore looked very much like he wished otherwise. “We simply decided, in the end, that teaching them all proper manners would be much more beneficial in the long run.” The old man raised his eyes to glare at the Dursleys and they all flinched. Harry felt his eyebrows rise. What on Earth did they do to them to provoke such a reaction? On second thoughts, I don’t want to know.

“Oh yes! I remember now. Severus, here is the thing you requested,” Dumbledore exclaimed, causing Harry to jump. The old man reached into his voluminous robe and pulled out a tightly furled roll of parchment. Snape took it, unrolled it negligently and quickly signed something at the bottom. Harry tried to peer around the edge of the parchment, but Snape caught him at it and gave him a disapproving look.

“If I wished you to know what this was, I would have shown you myself.”

Harry sank lower in his chair. “Sorry, sir.” For some reason, being back in Privet Drive had reminded him that life was possible even without Shadow, which was probably exactly what Snape had intended. However, it did have the unfortunate side effect of bringing his natural curiosity back in full.

He was dying to know what was on that parchment and he couldn’t have been more delighted when Snape passed it to him a second later. The grin fell off his face when he realised what it was.

Adoption papers.

“Uh... I, uh... I didn’t think we needed these?” Harry swallowed to try and get rid of his dry throat, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Dumbledore leaned forward and smiled when it seemed that Snape was disinclined to raise his head. “Ah, well, technically you are still a ward of the Dursleys. If the Ministry was to pull itself together anytime soon, they would have the power to remove you from Severus’ care, despite the two of you being close blood relations. So, you see, if you agree to signing this, then there will be no chance of you returning here against your will.”

Harry had signed the papers before Dumbledore had even finished speaking. Harry watched in astonishment as the name beside his signature changed from Harry Potter to Harry Snape. He was a bit annoyed that it had changed his name without him asking, but if it got him away from the Dursleys forever, it would be worth it. Besides, what good was it to carry a dead man’s name when your own living, breathing father was sitting directly across the table from you? Still, it would take quite a bit of getting used to.

“So...” Harry peeped up at Dumbledore, “I’m a Snape now?”

“Not quite.” The old man smiled. “Petunia?”

Harry’s Aunt stepped forward, looking rather uncertain. “Yes, sir?”

“If you would be so kind to sign these papers, it would take... how did you put it?... an unnecessary burden off your hands.”

Aunt Petunia at least had the grace to blush as she signed the parchment with a kitchen biro. The papers glowed a soft white and quickly vanished in a puff of smoke. Harry gulped as he noticed that his father was giving Aunt Petunia the evil eye.

“You’re lucky that my son takes more after your dearly departed sister, Petunia. Otherwise, you and your family would be a lot worse off than you are now.”

The woman flushed and stepped back, her head bowed either in shame or fear, and Harry felt a little niggle of guilt start in his stomach. She had only shown him the barest scraps of kindness, but that was more than Uncle Vernon or Dudley ever had. Harry sighed as he realised he could not blame her for being afraid of her husband; after all, he was guilty of the same fear himself.

“Aunt Petunia?”

She flinched and looked up.

“Thank you... um, for signing, I mean.”

She nodded tightly and her eyes flickered over to where Snape and Dumbledore were preparing to leave. “Wait!”

They all watched in astonishment as she turned and ran out of the room. Dudley and Vernon squirmed and stared at their feet, obviously wishing for her speedy return, but it was almost ten minutes before they heard their feet coming down the stairs again.

“Here,” she breathlessly shoved a dusty, wooden box into Snape’s hands; it was about a handspan in length, “Lily wanted me to send this to either one of you before the Winter Solstice of this year. She said that it would open then.” She snuck a last glance at Harry before sighing and leaving the room, her shoulders lifting visibly with relief.

The next second, he felt himself tugged into his father’s side and Apparated away from the Dursleys’ regimented kitchen so fast that he didn’t even think to protest at the lack of warning. Luckily, it seemed to be easier on him than the last time.

Snape gently released him and tucked the mysterious box under his arm. It was only now that Harry realised that they were back home and that Dumbledore was nowhere in sight.

“So, Harry,” his father murmured as they strode back up the slight incline to the gates of their Manor, “what did you think? Was it a satisfying castigation that was visited upon those ghastly Muggles? I’d be more than happy to pay them another visit if you found their punishment lacking in any way…”

Harry smiled slightly. “No, I think you spooked them out enough. After all, I never have to live them again, do I?”

“Never,” Snape agreed, a fierce look coming over his face. “Never, Harry.”

“Ah, good.” Harry felt as though a massive weight had just been lifted off his shoulders by simply hearing the words. “Good, ‘cos I’d miss my dad too much, otherwise.”

“Hmm, don’t think that flattery is going to get you out of finishing your assignments!”

“But, Da-a-ad!”

“No! You have only today and tomorrow left to finish them and then you have to pack. I refuse to let my own child be so tardy with his work!”

Harry sighed heavily. “Fine! I’ll do it!” He looked up at his dad and grinned. It was wonderful to have an adult genuinely care about how well you did in class.

“You’ll have to catch me first, though!” Harry yelled and pelted off towards the orchard, where he hoped to hide behind some of the twisted trunks of the apple trees.

Shadow may not be here anymore, but he would have wanted this. He would have wanted this… for me. Bless him, I’ll always miss him, but maybe, one day, I’ll get to see him again.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus watched Harry run off, hiding a smile behind his hand as he saw his son laughing for the first time in days. I’d never thought it would be so easy, he thought as he Accio-ed the back of Harry’s coat, making him sail back towards the Potions Master, to truly feel happy.

The next second, Harry tumbled into a heap on the ground by Severus, still laughing as the older man grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to his feet.