Ow!

A burst of pain shot through Harry's nose, when it made contact with the cold, hard ground. He felt a strong hand lift him up by the back of his jumper.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, as he placed an arm around Harry's shoulders to steady him on his feet.

Harry winced; his nose throbbed painfully and his eyes watered. He pressed his hand against his nose; he could already feel the bump. Oh wonderful! Now, he was really going to resemble Severus.

Severus' eyes shone with concern. He gently moved Harry's hand away, his cool fingers probing along the bridge of the nose.

“It's broken,” he announced.

Harry scowled, and then clenched his eyes shut when the pain shot right up to his skull, and made him grind his teeth. “I kind of figured that,” he bit out.

Severus lifted his eyebrow, but said nothing. He scanned the area quickly to make sure that they were alone. Severus had carefully calculated beforehand, so that they would be dropped on a grassy hillside just outside of Spinner's End. Other than a few cows nibbling on hay in a nearby pasture, the area was deserted.

Severus whipped out his wand and said, “Episkey.”

Harry heard a crack and thought that he would pass out from the pain. He swiped the tears from his eyes, and delicately pressed his fingertips against the bridge of his nose. The bump had disappeared and the pain, thankfully, along with it.

Harry looked up at Severus. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“One more thing,” Severus smirked as he lifted his wand once again. “We must go into the village to purchase food and supplies. I have known these people most of my life, and I don't fancy introducing my new son with you looking like that.”

Harry huffed. How insulting! But then he looked down at himself and saw that his jumper and jeans were smeared with mud, and the right knee of his jeans was torn; trickles of blood were oozing from a nasty scrape.

Now that he was not distracted from the pain in his nose, he realised that the scrape on his knee stung like a bugger.

Severus waved his wand once and chanted again.

Harry felt as though his knee were on fire but then it felt ice cold until the warmth slowly crept its way back in, leaving only a slight tingling in his kneecap.

“Reparo,” Snape commanded with a swish of his wand, and the tear in Harry's jeans mended itself.

With another flick of his wand and a Scourgify Harry felt a slight, cool breeze ruffle his hair, and he suddenly felt refreshed. It never failed to amaze him how a simple spell could make him feel that he just stepped out of the shower; he felt squeaky clean, and imagined that he could see himself sparkling.

Severus took one satisfied look at his son. He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, and gave them a little squeeze.

"Come son. You are about to make your début as Severus Snape's son and heir.”

Harry smirked. “Yes father.”

Severus' eyes widened. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

---------

Harry stood in awe, looking down at the village below. It reminded him of Hogsmeade. A light sprinkling of snow dusted the rooftops, and the chimneys puffed spirals of smoke. Harry felt like he'd stepped back in time as they approached the charming village. Sounds of horse's hooves clacking on the cobblestones, pulling quaint little carriages behind them, and the sounds of excited children chattering filled the air.

On every street lamp was twined garland with large red velvet ribbons, and there were miniature Christmas trees on every corner. The largest Christmas tree that Harry had ever seen stood in the middle of the town square, resplendent in brightly coloured ornaments and lights, with a large glittering star on top. In every shop, there were various window displays with little toy trains and Gingerbread Houses; Father Christmas looking jolly with his long white beard, and twinkling blue eyes.

Harry couldn't prevent a silly grin from appearing on his face. He'd always loved Christmas, despite the fact that he'd been forced for years to watch on the sidelines, while every present under the tree belonged to Dudley. The large boy had gorged on the sweets in his twelve inch long stocking, while Harry's had contained only coal.

Every year, while the Dursleys sat around the dinner table, filling up on pumpkin pie and Christmas pudding, Harry had had to not only serve the delicious-smelling dinner, but cook it as well. As Harry's stomach cramped painfully from hunger pains, he had watched Dudley and his uncle stuff themselves like gluttons.

It wasn't until Harry had come to Hogwarts, and his jaw had dropped when Hagrid dragged an enormous Christmas tree into the Great Hall that Harry really experienced for himself the joys of Christmas.

Harry would never forget that first Christmas morning, when he had unwrapped his fath-uh-James' invisibility cloak, and Mrs. Weasley's hand-knitted (Uh-sort of) jumper. It was the best Christmas he'd ever had. But Harry had a feeling that this Christmas was going to be very special as well. After all... he was going to spend it with his new father.

The sounds of Christmas carols swirled through his head as he followed Severus through the door of a store called, Susan's Staples.

A friendly-looking woman, with warm brown eyes, looked up when she heard the door open and the bell clang; as her eyes fell on Severus, her face lit up and her eyes crinkled as she gave him a welcoming smile. She smoothed a stray strand of dark tendrils that had come loose from her ponytail, and wiped her hands on her frayed, blue cotton apron.

“Severus,” she exclaimed delightfully, “it's been too long.”

"Susan," Severus greeted with a nod.

Harry's jaw dropped when Susan stretched up on her tippy-toes and gave Severus a kiss on the cheek.

Severus scowled.

Susan laughed. "You haven't changed a bit Sevvy."

"Do. Not. Call. Me. Sevvy," he growled.

"Sorry. Severus." She smiled lopsidedly.

Suddenly her attention turned to Harry.

"This is my-" Severus began.

"Your son," she said softly as she stared at Harry. "You look so much like your father at his age."

Susan looked up at Severus; her eyes glistened with tears.

"He's Lily's son, isn't he?" she whispered. "He has her eyes."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "You knew my mum?"

"Yes... I did."

Susan's eyes crinkled in confusion. "But I don't understand Severus. I mean, Lily married James Potter, they had a-"

A look of realisation washed over her face. She turned to look at Severus. "Is he-uh-?"

Harry's face heated up at the intense look of scrutiny that she was giving him.

"Yes Susan, this is my son Harry Potter."

Susan's eyes widened in shock. "The Harry Potter."

Harry's eyes widened. "Are you a- a witch then?"

"Harry, lower your voice," Severus reprimanded, when several customers turned their heads at Harry's outburst.

Harry's face flushed. "Sorry," he said apologetically.

"That's okay Harry," Susan assured him kindly.

She lowered her voice and her eyes swept around the store. "Let's go in the back, where we can talk."

Severus and Harry followed Susan through a curtain behind the counter, to what look like an enormous stockroom. Its shelves were filled with various jars of home-made pickles, jams, beets, and large bags of flour, sugar, corn, and other necessities.

Susan retrieved a wand from her pocket and whispered what Harry presumed was a silencing charm.

"Now, we can talk privately," she smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Yes Harry, as you can see I'm a witch."

"Susan and I were neighbours, Harry," Severus explained. "Since all the other children in this town were Muggles, we often played together."

"Yes, it was nice to discover that I was not the only one that was different," Susan sighed.

"So, is one of your parents a Muggle then?" Harry asked curiously.

"No actually. My parents were both Muggles you see, and were quite horrified to find out that I was a witch."

"Oh, that’s too bad," Harry said sympathetically. He could just imagine how difficult it must have been for her, especially if they were anything like the Dursleys or Tobias.

"Oh, but they eventually came to accept it and were quite proud of me when I started at Hogwarts," she explained quickly.

"As a matter of fact, it was Lily's parents, your grandparents, that helped my parents accept my being magic," she said with a small smile. "They were wonderful, kind people," she said softly. "They always thought of your father as a son.

Harry looked up at his father, and could see the wistful look in his eyes. Harry was glad then that Severus had had at least his Mum's family to look out for him, when his own father was so abusive.

Susan looked up at Severus curiously. "So Severus, what brings you back here then?"

Severus looked down at Harry. "I thought that Harry and I would spend Christmas at Spinner's End, but it's a little run down, and I thought that Harry would perhaps enjoy helping me fix it up."

"Yes, that's true. I mean, you haven't been here since last year, when you brought that creepy little fellow that James and Sirius used to pal around with, to live with you. What was his name...? Peter something?"

Harry's blood ran cold.

Severus looked down at Harry's face, which had gone taut with anger. Oh Merlin. He knew this was going to come out at one point or another, and he had hoped to be able to explain it to his son. He hadn't wanted Harry to find out this way.

"You brought that bastard to live with you?" Harry glared at Severus furiously.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "It’s not what you think, Harry."

"Did you know that he was responsible for Mom and James' death?" he demanded. "Of course you did," Harry said bitterly. "You knew everything that went on. How could you let him live with you when you knew what he did?"

"Because the Dark Lord ordered me to," Severus said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, and of course you just did everything the Dark Lord told you to do," Harry said mockingly.

"That's enough," Severus said in a low dangerous voice. "We will speak of this in private... later. Is that clear?"

Harry glared at him, lips pursed stubbornly.

"Is that clear?" Severus repeated, his dark eyes smouldering with anger.

"Yes sir," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"And you will apologize to Susan for your rudeness."

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry Susan. I-"

Susan studied both men's faces curiously. She had known Peter in school and had never liked him. He had always seemed so insipid and had followed James and Sirius around like a little puppy dog. It had made her ill. Now, she wondered what Harry had meant by him being responsible for James and Lily’s deaths. As a matter of fact, she had heard that Sirius was responsible for James and Lily’s death, and that Sirius had also killed Peter. Of course, when Severus had walked into her store last year, with Peter trailing behind him, she had almost gagged. Now she was burning with curiosity.

"It's alright Harry," she assured him kindly.

Severus' lips thinned. "No, it's not alright,"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but was grateful when Susan changed the subject.

"So, you'll need to stock up on a few things. Come," she said, as she flicked her wand to erase the silencing charm.

Susan went to fetch a buggy, and they spent the next forty-five minutes filling their cart to the brim with staples, such as milk, eggs, flour and sugar. Harry wondered at that. Did Severus bake? Well, Harry was quite a good cook; a throwback from his years of playing chef at the Dursleys. After sixteen years, he had eventually learnt not to burn the bacon. Luckily he had a hard head, and had succeeded in ducking Aunt Petunia's large black frying pan.

By the time that they were finished, Harry's head was swirling. Severus couldn't even get a word in edgewise, as Susan hustled them through aisle after aisle, throwing cleaning products, shampoo, soap, laundry detergent, and every Muggle necessity she could think of. Harry wondered why they couldn't just use magic in the privacy of their own home. Outside, he could understand, but with the curtains drawn, surely they didn't have to avoid the use of Magic so thoroughly? Not that Harry was averse to doing things the Muggle way.

Harry could see a smirk on Severus' face. He was obviously humouring the woman.

"Oh, and I guess that you'll be needing firewood as well," she added as an afterthought.

Severus nodded.

"Well, how about I have all these things delivered to you, and the wood as well?"

"Yes, that would be acceptable," Severus agreed. "Perhaps you would like to join us for dinner this evening Susan?"

Susan's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, that would be lovely Severus, but-" She looked at Harry. "I don't want to intrude."

"No, we'd love for you to come to dinner, and maybe you could tell me more about, uh-", Harry said shyly. "-uh, I mean if you wouldn't mind-"

Susan grinned. "I'd be happy to tell you more about your mum, and of course," she grinned wickedly, "I could tell you a few stories about your father here."

"Susan," Severus growled.

"Oh relax Severus." She smiled innocently at him. "I won't tell Harry here anything too embarrassing."

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I wouldn't be so smug Susan," he drawled. "I do believe I have a few stories of my own to tell."

He looked at her with quirked lips. "For instance, the lengths to which you went to get a certain blond Slytherin to notice you."

Susan blushed furiously. "Okay, okay. You win."

Severus smirked. "I always do."

-------

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Will we be there soon?"

"No."

"When will we-"

"Unless you wish me to use a sealing charm to glue your lips together until we arrive at Spinner's End," Severus raised his wand threateningly, "I would cease asking inane questions."

Harry clamped his mouth shut. He had no illusions about whether Severus would follow through on that threat. But damn, his feet were aching. This no magic bit was beginning to be a pain in the arse. They surely had walked at least two miles now. When the hell were they going to reach Severus' house?

Finally, when Harry felt like he had a mouth full of cotton, his throat parched and his feet throbbing painfully, they approached a rusted street sign, swinging in the soft breeze, with the large letters Spinner’s End on it. There were only about four or five houses along the long country lane, but thankfully, it looked as though there was a fair amount of land, separating the houses from each other.

Unfortunately for Harry, Severus' house was the very last house on the street.

Severus wasn't kidding; that the house was neglected and in disrepair was an understatement. The front fence, which had once been possibly white, was now yellowed, and smeared with mud. The front garden was overgrown with weeds, dandelions and the grass was almost as tall as he was.

Strangely enough, Harry itched to get his hands on the garden. That was one chore that the Dursleys had given him that he hadn't minded at all. If it hadn't been for the fact that they would force him to work for hours on end in the hot sun, without providing him with food or water, Harry wouldn't have minded staying out in the fresh air all day. Some summer days were unbearable though, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he was able to drink cool water from the hose, he would have fallen over from heat stroke.

Harry eyed a lawn mower to the side of the house, and vowed to cut the grass later; although, it would take a machete to cut through the grass that thick and tall before he would be able to use the lawn mower on it. Harry's mind was already making plans to ask Severus about buying some bulbs and seeds to plant flowers. Well, perhaps in the spring that is; a bitter wind cut through his jumper. A few snowflakes began to fall, and Harry shivered.

The house itself was also in need of a good coat of paint, and the shutters on the outside windows were hanging off their rusted hinges, but Harry couldn't help the flutter of excitement in his stomach at the thought that this was his home, no matter how run-down it was. That is until he imagined that Wormtail had stayed here. Harry knew that he'd been unreasonable back at Susan's store, and felt a wave of shame at his behaviour.

No wonder Severus had been furious with him. He'd embarrassed the man in front of his childhood friend. Severus had had a part to play, and he'd played it well. Harry felt guilty at having acted like a child when he knew that Severus had really had no choice in taking in Pettigrew. One did not refuse a direct order from Voldemort, unless one had a death wish. It couldn’t have been easy for Severus to have the man that had betrayed the only woman he'd ever loved, in his home.

Harry followed Severus up the rickety stairs and watched as Severus pulled out a gold key from his trousers' pocket.

As Harry stepped over the threshold, he started sneezing uncontrollably. A stream of sunlight filtered through the parted yellowed curtains and illuminated the dust particles floating through the air.

If he ignored the layers of dust coating the walls and furniture, Harry could see the potential of the house. The ceiling was high and arched with large wood beams. The dirty area rugs could not hide scratched wood floors underneath, but Harry imagined that if they were sanded down and polished, they would be quite beautiful. Granted, it would take a lot of plaster, and about three coats of paint to cover the smudges, holes, and burn marks on the walls. Harry wondered at that. It looked as though someone had been ducking hexes, and the walls had taken the punishment.

The furniture was mismatched and the couch and armchairs were tattered and frayed with springs sticking up. The fireplace had remnants of a fire, long gone cold. There were pieces of charred wood and ash, and Harry had a feeling that the Floo would need to be cleaned before it could be used.

"It's not much Harry," Severus said in a husky voice. "But this is my home; our home."

Harry smiled up at him. "It's great Severus," he whispered.

Severus arched an eyebrow at him.

"No, really," Harry insisted. "It needs a little work, but this is great."

"A little work?" Severus asked disbelievingly.

Harry grinned. "Well, maybe a lot of work, but it's going to be a lot of fun to fix it up."

Severus couldn't help but be pleased at Harry's enthusiasm; it was contagious. He hadn't realised that he'd been dreading to see a disappointed look in Harry's eyes. He wished he had more to pass down to his son, but Tobias had not been sentimental, and anything from his mother's side of the family had been destroyed by his father in his drunken rages.

Tobias had insisted that he'd not wanted any reminders of his wife's freakish magical history. Eileen had managed to hide a few old photographs and some small heirlooms, like his grandmother's wedding ring, and a couple of other small items that were precious to her, but the majority of it had been thrown out with the trash, or burnt, shortly after his parents were married, and Tobias' true colours had become painfully apparent.

"Well, if we're careful, we can use some magic as long as we make certain that the curtains are drawn, and the doors are locked. The neighbours tend to be a little too friendly," he said disgustedly. "It wouldn't surprise me if some nosy hag showed up at our door, casserole or apple pie in hand, on the premise of welcoming me home," he sneered.

Harry laughed. "How inconsiderate of them."

Severus glared at him, and then put his arms around Harry's shoulders. "You, young man, are becoming just a little too cheeky for your own good."

Harry chuckled. "I try."

"Come, I'll show you the rest of the house," Severus said as he gently guided Harry towards the kitchen.

The house was not overly large, but not cramped either. The kitchen, although rather dirty and grimy like the rest of the house, had a large bay window that drenched the kitchen in bright sunlight. Harry thought that the kitchen wasn't in bad shape, and all it needed was a good cleaning. The counter-tops were actually quite beautiful. They were dark marble granite, and the floor was ceramic tiles, of a similar colour. The fridge and stove were coated in dust and grease, but all Harry could see in his mind, is what it would look like when they were finished with it.

As Severus opened the door to the next room, Harry's eyes widened.

"This is the library," Severus announced proudly.

There were rows and rows of shelves, housing every book imaginable. Hermione would be in heaven, Harry thought in awe. He'd always suspected that his father was the scholarly type... after all, he's a professor, but Harry had had no idea the man was quite so taken with reading, but seeing the hundreds of books that lined the shelves, he thought that the man rivaled Hermione.

There was a desk off to the corner, littered with books and papers, and a large table in the middle of the room. Off to the side, there was a fireplace, with two large frayed, but comfortable-looking arm chairs, and Harry could just picture him and Severus each occupying one, curled up with a good book in front of a cozy, crackling fire while sipping on their hot rum Butterbeers. Well... maybe minus the rum.

"You may use the library to finish your essay, which I expect before Christmas," Severus' deep voice interrupted Harry's pleasant thoughts.

Harry rolled his eyes. The man had an annoying habit of bursting his bubble of happiness.

"There are actually four bedrooms," he said while they climbed the steep staircase. "This is my room, but you may choose one of the other three rooms for your own. I suggest this one," he said, while opening the door. "This is the largest room."

Harry couldn't help it. He hesitated.

"No Harry, Pettigrew didn't stay in this room, or any of the others on this floor. As a matter of fact, there was a small room, adjoining the kitchen that he stayed in. I demolished it after he left."

The guilt rose up again. Harry looked up at Severus. "I'm sorry for the way I acted back there Severus, it's just that the thought of that traitor staying with you just made me-"

Severus nodded. "It's understandable Harry. Trust me, it took incredible discipline, not to spit in the Dark Lord's face when he ordered that I be put in charge of that traitor," he said. "However-" he looked at Harry sternly. "-that does not excuse your rudeness or discussing a very private matter in front of Susan."

Harry felt his face warm up. He nodded. "I know," he said quietly.

"It's behind us Harry. Let us not speak of it again."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He got the feeling that it was more of an order, than a suggestion, but it was one that he was happy to oblige. As a matter of fact, he never wanted to think about that rat ever again. That man had been responsible for as much heartache in Harry's life, as even Voldemort had been.

Harry almost jumped out of his skin as a loud gong echoed through the cottage, making the walls rumble.

"What the hell was that?" Harry demanded his hands over his ears.

Severus smirked at him. "The doorbell."

Harry's jaw dropped. The doorbell?

"Our supplies no doubt."

"Oh right." Harry's stomach was starting to rumble. He could do with a little food.

--------------

An hour later, Harry and Severus were seated at the small kitchen table, eating a simple lunch of sandwiches and soup. They had performed a quick cleaning charm on the kitchen.

"If you like, after lunch, we can do a quick clean-up of the other rooms, and then perhaps discuss how you would like to decorate. Perhaps Susan can bring over some of those home decorating magazines that she's so fond of," he sneered.

Harry snickered. He knew that Severus was only doing this for his sake, and had no interest whatsoever in decorating. As far as Harry could tell, Severus was satisfied if he had a bed, a Potion's lab, and food. He had little time or inclination for flipping through Home Decor magazines, and shopping for furniture, or for choosing wallpaper and paint colours.

Oh well; Harry had enough interest for the both of them, and he was determined to enjoy every minute of it. It wasn't every day that he got to have a say in what his new home looked like. He hadn't wanted, or cared about what Grimmauld Place looked like. As far as Harry was concerned, a part of him had died when Sirius had, and it was only because of his new relationship with Severus that he'd started to really care about living again.

"I was wondering what we're going to do about the front garden Severus," Harry said, after wiping his mouth with his napkin. "You know that grass is so high, I don't know how we'd even get the lawn mower through it."

"We could perhaps, put a charm on it tonight when it's dark outside, to make it easier to cut with the shears. We can't very well dispose of it completely. That would be too obvious."

Harry nodded. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Do you want me to do the dishes?" Harry asked, when Severus rose to put his plate in the sink.

Severus shook his head. "This is probably a bad habit to get into, but I will clean them magically for today, but once we finish putting the house in order, it is preferable to get in the habit of avoiding magic as much as possible. It would be too easy to forget, and use it while in the presence of a Muggle."

"Yeah, I understand."

After Severus had cleaned the dishes, he looked up at the clock on the wall, and crooked a finger for Harry to follow him.

Harry looked at him curiously, as Severus led him to the back of the house. He took out his wand, mumbled something that sounded Latin to Harry's ears, and Harry's eyes widened when a panel in the wall opened up, with a set of stairs leading down, to what looked like a basement, or a... dungeon, Harry thought caustically. Sure enough, there was what looked like an exact replica of Severus' lab at Hogwarts.

Harry looked up questioningly at Severus.

Severus smirked. "I do believe that it is time for your detention."

Harry groaned. He had thought that the man was joking about that.

"Uh, just a minute. The lab is a mess, and what about potions ingredients."

Severus quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you honestly think that I would leave the house without some Potions ingredients from my personal stores?"

"Your first assignment will be helping me chop ingredients and replenishing my stocks."

Well, that didn't sound too bad as a detention.

Severus smirked at him. "After you wash all the beakers and stirring instruments by hand, that is. Oh and there are some cauldrons there that have been sitting for far too long. I fear that even with a good scrubbing, the caked-on residue will be difficult to remove."

Harry glared at him.

Severus smiled evilly at him. "If it helps any, Harry, your friends are at this very moment, scrubbing the toilets in the Prefect's lavatories."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry grumbled, as he looked around for some cleaning solution to sterilize the instruments with. One thing he had learnt from his time spent in the lab with Severus, over the past few weeks, was that even using the wrong kind of cleaning product could interfere with a potion, and could actually react chemically , creating an interaction that could produce dangerous, combustible gasses.

Finally, after an hour of scrubbing a particularly stubborn cauldron, Severus took pity on Harry and finished cleaning it with a flick of his wand. Harry looked up at him gratefully. That is, until Severus pointed at the counter behind him, motioning to the sharp cutting instruments and the pile of Lacewing flies and Shrivelfigs to be chopped.