With his breakthrough in his PTSD disorder, Harry slept much better at night and was gradually getting over his flashbacks and anxiety over the war. It was then that Sirius decided to focus on another aspect of Harry's therapy. His phobia of the dark. It was a fear Harry was reluctant to acknowledge, because he felt very embarrassed and ashamed about it. It had its roots in his early childhood, when Petunia and Vernon used to toss him in a pitch-dark cupboard and leave him there for hours. Harry soon came to associate the dark with something bad, as punishment, and as a result, became terrified of it. It was a fear he had denied and hid from during most of his years at Hogwarts. But it had never gone away, and to this day he hated being alone in a dark room, or walking through a dark hall, or being anywhere that did not have light in it. The dark was the bogeyman, it smothered and oppressed, it was an enemy that terrified him worse than Voldemort. It was his own personal boggart.

But Severus had promised to free him from his fear once the war was over, and he had Sirius and Remus to help him fulfill that promise. Harry had two-and-a-half weeks till his birthday and he hoped that by the time that day came, his fear of the dark would be conquered. Although, when Sirius had announced that afternoon that he wanted to start therapy for Harry's nyctophobia, Harry's first impulse was to refuse.

"Do we have to? I thought maybe we could practice some more relaxation techniques for my PTSD." Harry suggested. His fear of the dark was so . . .degrading. He was almost sixteen, he should have gotten over the damn fear by now, he thought.

"We'll use them to help you with your fear of the dark today," Sirius said. "But it's important that we not put this off any longer, Harry. The longer you avoid treatment for this, the worse it will get, and the harder it will be to face it."

"But Sirius, I've been getting better, a little. I can sleep with a small nightlight on now."

"Good, and we'll make more progress with more treatment." His godfather said firmly, sounding very much like his therapist, Alec Sandrilas. "Look, I know this is uncomfortable and embarrassing for you, because you think that a fear of the dark is something only little kids go through. But it's not. And because you were never treated for it when you were little, your fear magnified and grew. I know, because I suffered from the same thing and didn't even know it till I got released from Azkaban. The first time I fell asleep with all the lights off at Grimmauld Place, I woke up in the dark and I panicked. Started hyperbventilating and then I changed into my dog form and I howled like a maniac, I was that scared. And it was all because of the dementors, the night was their time, they came in droves then, and lurked outside the cells, watching and waiting for someone to break, so they could sweep in and suck out their souls. It took me a long time to get over that, and I did it only with Alec's help."

Harry looked down at his hands. He could understand why Sirius had been afraid of the dark, but his own fear just wasn't . . .rational.

"Harry, remember when you told me that you wished you could be free of the fear that made you freeze every time you went into a dark room?" Severus prompted, they were all sitting in the den on the sofa. "Well, that will never happen unless you allow Sirius to help you."

Harry knew they were right, and he did want to be free of the crippling fear, so he agreed. "Okay, what do I have to do?"

"First, we'll begin with some standard relaxation techniques, deep breathing, imaging a peaceful place, and so on," Sirius said. "Then we'll do a thing called Gradual Exposure Therapy, it's when we talk about your fear and then try and lessen it by gradually exposing yourself to it a bit at a time. We can keep a record of your progress using the stepladder method, as Alec would say. Before you know it, you'll be walking through a dark hall like a cat, quietly and without fear."

"How long did it take you to get over your fear, Sirius?"

"Ah . . .a few months, but that's because my memories were so acute. You won't take that long, I think, since you don't seem to have really strong panic attacks. Let's go up to your room."

Harry went, their sessions were usually held there, because it guaranteed Harry's privacy and it was comfortable for him. It was important that Harry feel comfortable so he could relax and meditate.

After they had done relaxation treatments for about twenty minutes, Sirius said, "Now, are you feeling calm? Good. All right. First things first. I need to know when you first started feeling scared of the dark. How old were you? When was the first time those stinking Muggles shut you up in the cupboard? Can you remember?"

Slowly, Harry nodded. "I was real little, maybe three or four, when they started doing it on a regular basis. I remember the first time was because Dudley took my blanket, the one that I had been left with in the basket, I think my mum had made it, and wouldn't give it back. I always carried it with me and slept with it and Dudley wanted it, so he took it. I got mad and yelled, Dudley wouldn't give it back, so I pulled his hair. He screamed bloody murder, and then Aunt Petunia came in and saw. She went insane, called me a dirty little freak and how dare I hurt her precious little Dudders and then she grabbed me, smacked me, and threw me into the cupboard. "Into the dark closet with you, you wicked brat!" she said, and she left me alone there for about two hours . . .alone in the dark without my blanket and with all the spiders. I think I cried myself to sleep."

"Horrible people! Somebody should have shoved them in a dark pit with a hungry runespoor!" Sirius said angrily. "I can see how you started being afraid of the dark then. Were there other times that happened?"

"Loads of times. Whenever I got into a fight with Dudley, or Dudley said I got into a fight with him, I was chucked into the dark cupboard. I used to cry and scream at first, but it didn't do any good. They just made me stay there longer. Or sometimes Uncle Vernon would wallop me and "give me something to cry about". So I stopped crying. But I always was scared and I thought the dark had a big cloak that wrapped around me and smothered me. 'Cause I could never catch my breath in the cupboard and sometimes I used to pass out, I think."

"That explains a lot of why you're afraid. Since you were a little kid, you were taught to associate being in the dark with being bad, as a punishment, and you think bad things will happen when it gets dark. I'm going to try and reverse that thinking using a stepladder method. Like what Alec did with me."

"What's that?"

"It's where we expose you a little at a time to what you fear and help you overcome it." Sirius explained. "Today we'll start small. I'm going to make the room dark for ten minutes and I want you to try and endure it for that long. While it's dark, I want you to try and visualize your safe spot, a place where you feel safe and at peace. If you start getting frightened, breathe slowly. Remember, it's ten minutes, not ten hours. Are you ready?"

Harry gave a brief nod. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Okay. Start breathing slowly. On the count of three, all the lights will go out. One . . .two . . .three . . ."

The room went pitch black. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He couldn't see anything at all. He felt as if he had been struck blind. Immediately, his heart began to race and he began to gasp. Sweat broke out on his forehead and trickled down his neck. He froze into stillness, while inside his head, he screamed in sheer terror. No! No! Let me out! Please, I'll be good! I won't touch Dudley's toys ever again Aunt Tunia! Please! Let me out! Let me ou-u-u-t!

He lifted his hand to bang upon the cupboard door and it was then he recalled he wasn't in his cupboard. You're in your own room, dunderhead. You're safe, now stop. Just . . .STOP!

Some of the awful heart-stopping feeling receded. He tried to recall what Sirius had said. Breathe. He needed to calm down and breathe. He shut his eyes and started counting, trying to relax, trying to bring his heart rate down and breathe slowly.

One . . .two . . .three . . .four . . .five . . .Again . . .one . . .two . . .three . . .it's working, a little bit . . .

Gradually, he managed to stop gasping and then he tried to think of a happy place, a peaceful thought. You're trapped in the dark! shrieked a part of his mind. Trapped and alone and you'll die like a dog, alone in the dark.

No, I won't. I'm not alone, Sirius and Remus are right here, somewhere . . .and I can walk out of here anytime I want. The door's over there. He opened his eyes, saw nothing, and began to tremble. He quickly visualized the door to his room, the room lit up, and himself walking out of it. He visualized himself walking along the beach and listening to the ocean. He saw himself sitting in the grass, and flying with Warrior and Hedwig. His trembling stopped. He visualized himself and Sasha holding hands and then kissing, somewhere in some secluded part of Sylvanor where no one would disturb them and Darkmoon wouldn't find them and kick his arse for taking liberties with his cousin.

His hand groped and then he felt the familiar moonstone bracelet beneath his fingers. He stroked the soft braid of hair, the hair of his beloved wolfen. Sasha . . .Sasha . . .I miss you . . .I need you . . .

"Okay, Harry, you can open your eyes." Sirius encouraged.

Harry did, and found the lights were back on and he could see again.

Sirius rose and looked at him. Harry was pale and sweating, but he wasn't hysterical. "How do you feel? I think you did real well for your first time."

"I . . I feel . . .sort of nervous."

"On a scale of one to ten, how nervous?"

"Uh . . .a five."

"Not bad. I think I was a seven the first time Sandrilas pulled that trick on me." Sirius patted him on the shoulder. "Next time, we'll increase the time to twenty minutes, then forty-five, and so on, until you can stand the dark again. Oh, and I want you to write something for me."

"You're giving me homework?"

"Nah. Just a little bitty exercise. I want you to write ten good things about the dark and think about 'em. It's something called alternative association, I think."

"Been studying a Mind Healer text, Padfoot?" queried Remus.

"I was trying to. But the bloody thing keeps using terms I never heard of," Sirius grumbled. "Anyway, I want you to try sleeping tonight with a hall light on and the lights in here out. You'll still be able to see, it's not going to be total dark. Think you can do that?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Good! Now that we've gotten that out of the way, is there anything you want to talk about with your journal? No? Everything's good? Okay, let's play some video games. This time, I want to be Mario."

"You're always Mario, Sirius."

"Tough. Luigi wears Slytherin colors and they suck."

"Hey! Da's a Snake and he saved your life," Harry reminded him smartly.

"Oh. Right. Well, I don't like the color green, it reminds me of pondslime," Sirius amended.

Harry rolled his eyes. Sirius had come a long way since Azkaban, but he doubted if he would ever completely lose his prejudice towards Slytherins.

He went to set up the game, while Remus excused himself to go and have tea with Severus, who had just returned from his own session with Alec and tell him about Harry's first attempt at conquering his nyctophobia.

* * * * * *

Severus was pleased with how Harry was doing, and told Remus he would help them implement the treatment plan Sirius had suggested by monitoring Harry at night and making sure he didn't have any lights on in his room, only the hallway.

"He's a strong kid, Severus," Remus said quietly. "And he really wants to beat this thing. If he keeps up with that attitude, he'll lick this thing in a week or two. I could smell that he was scared today, but he didn't let it overwhelm him. He took the fear by the scruff of the neck and shook it into submission." Then the werewolf coughed. "Sorry. Lately I seem to be putting all my examples into canine or wolf terms. And getting too overprotective, according to Dora. She says I'm regressing back into the Stone Age."

Severus managed a small smile. Tonks had a way with her wit that always amused him, though he had never told her so as a student. "Perhaps it's a werewolf trait."

"Maybe. I wouldn't know, since I'm the only werewolf I know that's ever had a real relationship with a wizard female and not just . . .taken her like an animal." He flushed bright red.

"You seem to have a sort of dual nature, like the wolfen." Severus observed.

"Yes. That's another thing I wanted to ask you about. The wolfen who's coming to Hogwarts, will she . . .be able to tolerate me? Or will she hate my guts and go for my throat at first sight?"

Severus was silent for a long moment. He knew that some of the more volatile wolfen, such as Vlad and Eris, might react that way, but Meadowsweet had never struck him as the vengeful impulsive type. She had always seemed cool and logical, and not one to let her emotions rule her. Then again, he had never seen her around werewolves. "I . . .it's difficult to say. Meadowsweet, or Sasha, is her given name, has never seemed the kind to give into irrational hatred. She's the Healer of Sylvanor, and the pack leader, Darkmoon, relies on her counsel. She's the Alpha female of the community, I would say."

"Is she this Darkmoon's mate?"

"No. They are cousins, too closely related for that. They are more like brother and sister. Still, I don't know if their hatred of werewolves stems from something personal, because their mothers were forced by their sires, or if it's a trait they were born with, and they instinctively hate them, like the way a horse or a cow hates snakes. Or a mouse fears a hawk. I shall have to ask Harry to write to her and find out. If it's the former, than I can assure you that you will have no trouble with her, for she is the kind to judge an individual on his own merit, not superstition and prejudice. But if it's the latter . . .we will make sure the two of you are never alone or close enough for her to attack you at school. And I shall, of course, withdraw her from your class . . ."

"I hope we don't have to go that far."

"As do I. If she can tolerate you, it will be a huge step to proving to her people that there are good as well as bad werewolves, not just the monsters who sired them. You are the most mild-mannered werewolf I've known, once you've taken Wolfsbane. Then even I don't fear you," said Severus. He froze, his mouth hanging open at that last Freudian slip. He had never intended for Remus to know his secret fear, but somehow it had slipped out.

Remus looked astonished, his hazel eyes widening. "You . . .you were afraid of me? Severus, I never knew . . ." He looked away, feeling somehow ashamed and upset, because he knew exactly what had caused Severus' fear . That stupid prank at the Shrieking Shack.

"I never wanted you to know, Lupin," the other said, his voice sharp.

"No . . .I don't guess you would . . .I'm sorry . . ."

"What are you apologizing for? You did not participate in that stupid prank, though you could have killed me. I never held you responsible, Lupin. Even so, that did not keep me from fearing a dangerous creature."

"I understand. It's only natural you should fear me, Severus. I was a danger to everyone back then . . .we were so foolish to do what we did . . .we were lucky I never . . .bit anyone . . .If I could change the past . . ." the werewolf's voice was harsh with regret.

"We can't, and all we can do is move on. I am trying to do so and suggest you do as well. Let the past stay in the past. You aren't what you were then, you are different, otherwise I would have never hired you as my Defense professor. I have nothing to fear from you anymore." Severus stated, and his eyes met those of his former nemesis.

Remus forced himself to look into them. He saw an iron determination and calm acceptance and not even a trace of fear. He lowered his head. "I won't desert my post again, sir." He said, his tone submissive, as that of a beta to an Alpha.

"You had better not. I won't tolerate it. I shall protect you if the press or anyone else tries to slander you, Lupin. Fair is fair."

Remus drank his tea, thinking how ironic it was that the boy the Marauders had bullied and tormented was now the boss of them. Fate certainly had a strange sense of humor. A new era had dawned, and many changes had been made, but Remus thought they were all for the good, and he was proud to have had a part in it, and to help shape the new world to come. "Thank you, Severus. You are an honorable man. I am proud to work under you."

"Please, Lupin. Don't go all maudlin on me," the other said gruffly, though inwardly Lupin's words pleased him immensely. Finally one of the Marauders had seen him for what he was worth. Severus wasn't sure why he cared, but it made him feel good.

The two finished their tea in silence, waiting for Sirius and Harry to tire of playing games and come downstairs for tea.

* * * * * *

That evening, after they had played three rounds of chess, Harry went upstairs to bed. "Don't forget to do as Sirius told you," his father reminded him. "Good night."

"Night, Da," Harry called.

After he had showered and dressed in his night clothes, he left the light on in the hall and turned off his lamp. The hall light illuminated part of the room near the door, and Harry could see the outlines of his dresser, TV, and Hedwig's perch. They were hazy, but he could still make them out. It was darker near his bed, but he forced himself to relax, do his breathing exercises, and visualization. He also forced himself to think about ten good things about the dark. He would write them down in the morning.

He listened and heard Hedwig ruffling her feathers and the creaks and groans of the pipes as they carried water to different parts of the house.

He opened and shut his eyes several times, making sure he could find his glasses in case he needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. They were right where he had put them, on his nightstand.

He sighed, turned over, and fell into a dream of sun drenched sands and aqua water.

Severus came up an hour later and halted outside Harry's open door, making sure all was well with his son.

From what he could see, Harry was sleeping soundly, and he let his breath out in a rush. Both Alec and Sirius had told him that he had to let Harry try and overcome his fears himself, and not always be there to come to his rescue. That would only make Harry dependent upon him to face his fears and that would not be good either.

Severus knew their reasoning was dead on target, but still he lingered awhile, unable to look away. He had always had an overprotective streak when it came to those he cared about, and he loved his reckless wild fledgling with everything he had. It was hard, especially when Harry was hurting, to take a step back and be objective. But he knew it had to be done, for Harry's own good. So he forced himself to go to bed after fifteen minutes of standing in the hallway watching the boy snore faintly. The Monitoring Charm would alert him if Harry started having a flashback, Severus reminded himself. Harry was having them less and less now, though.

Severus turned and slipped back to his own room, and both occupants of Spinner's End slept the night through peacefully.

* * * * * * *

Harry focused his mind upon defeating his childhood phobia, determined to banish the specter of the dark once and for all. He did everything that Sirius prescribed, from meditation exercises and visualization, to using the stepladder exposure therapy each night and day. He worked not only with Sirius and Remus, but Severus as well, and together they helped the boy emerge from the smothering darkness into the light.

He hit a snag in the middle of the first week, however, once he had managed to work up to an hour alone in the dark. He became excited over his rapid progress and tried to push himself without consulting Sirius and as a result ended up having a panic attack that night, one that left him nauseous and shaking and whimpering.

Severus came then and talked him through it, but Harry was so frustrated that he almost cried. "I almost had it! Damn it!" he exploded, slamming his fist down on his dresser in a fit of temper. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I just do this?"

"Because your fear of the dark was not born overnight. It was built up over hours and days and years. You cannot expect to forget it all in a few days, Harry. Now come over here and practice your meditation," Severus urged.

Harry wanted to stomp his feet and growl that he didn't want to do that, it wasn't working, and why the hell couldn't they just Obliviate the fear from his mind? But he controlled himself with a monumental effort and did as Severus ordered.

But even as he began breathing slowly, he vowed that he would beat this stupid phobia yet. He would not allow it to rule him.

Sirius took Harry's plateau in stride, saying that had happened to him also. "You'll get there. No need to rush."

Harry disagreed. He wanted to get better now. He redoubled his efforts, only to have both his father and godfather tell him to rest more, that he was making himself too anxious.

During the day, when he wasn't meditating, Harry spent time outside, since the days were warm and sunny. He helped Severus weed and garden, and as a reward, Severus took him flying as Freedom in the early hours of the morning, before the neighbors were awake. He also spent time over Paul's house, playing ordinary Muggle games and just having fun. It was something he had never had the chance to do at Privet Drive, and he found he really liked having the freedom to come and go and not worry about dark wizards and dementors.

He still missed Sasha a lot and wrote to her and Hermione and Ron, asking them how their summers were going and that his father had finally accepted the appointment of Headmaster.

Paul's little brother Sam came home from boarding school in France and happened to notice Harry's bracelet on Thursday afternoon. "What's that on your wrist, Harry? Is it a good luck charm? Is it from a girl? Or are you in a gang? 'Cause I've seen the Purple Crushers wear stuff like that, only they've got spikes and leather ones. They're the nastiest gang in Paris."

"Sam, will you shut up?" Paul cried, embarrassed. "Just ignore him, Harry, he asks too many questions and he babbles like a kid high on sugar."

"I do not!" Sam said, he was eleven. He resembled his older brother, but he had sandy hair.

"It's okay, Paul. I don't mind," Harry reassured his friend.

"That's not a gang bracelet, you muffin head," put in Paul's older sister, Tammy, who had also come home on holiday from Oxford. She peered at Harry's moonstone bracelet and said knowingly. "Anybody can tell that a girl made that for her guy, right, Harry?"

"Uh, yeah. My girlfriend Sasha gave it to me."

"See? I knew it!"

"Get off your high horse, Tamara," Sam stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"You have a girlfriend?" Paul said, a bit enviously. "Where is she? Is she hot?"

"She's out of the country right now. But she's coming back in the fall and going to go to the same boarding school I do in Scotland. Her name is Sasha Atwater and she's hotter than anybody you've ever seen. She's like . . .amazing. She wants to be a doctor."

Paul whistled. "Man, Harry! Hot and brainy. You've got it all. Do you have a picture of her?"

"Uh . . .no. She was supposed to send me one." Harry said. "The bracelet she made herself, from some of her hair and the moonstone used to belong to her mother. She gave it to me just before she left and I haven't taken it off since."

"It's beautiful," said Tammy admiringly. "I wish I knew how to make stuff like that. Though I don't think Mark would appreciate it like you do."

Harry blushed a little, for Tammy was sun-kissed and had honey-blond hair and blue eyes and was also very hot. He wasn't surprised she had a boyfriend.

"Did you give her a gift in return?"

"Yes. I gave her my favorite special pen," Harry said. "So she could write to me."

"Aww that's so sweet!" Tammy smiled. "Take notes, Paul."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Tam. Come on, Harry. Let's play some cricket."

Harry followed his friend outside, his finger gently stroking the moonstone bracelet. He had never wanted the summer to end so quickly as he did now.

* * * * * *

Early Friday afternoon found Severus working in his garden, deadheading the marigolds along his front walk and planting some hyacinths in boxes. He enjoyed gardening, even though these were not magical plants. It had been one of the few activities Eileen Snape used to do with him as a child, and together they had planted flowers and in secret, magical herbs and fungi. Harry was flying high overhead as Freedom, he was just a speck in the sky, too high to be seen by any Muggle looking upwards.

Severus finished patting the dirt into place around a newly planted hyacinth, then watered it carefully. He was almost finished and he turned to remove the last plant from the plastic pot behind him. It was then he spotted Paul making his way past the house, and he called out, "Good afternoon, Paul. If you're looking for Harry, he's—" Severus never finished his sentence, for he saw that his son's friend was sporting a nice shiner, a cut over his eyebrow, and holding a crumpled napkin to his nose, which was bleeding sluggishly. "What happened to you, Mr. Mosier? You look like you've been through a war."

Paul looked up at the tall man, whom he had come to respect over the weeks he had known him, and said quietly, "Nothin', Mr. Snape. Just some dumb kids."

"Let me see." Severus rose and went to inspect the fifteen-year-old.

Paul backed up. "It's okay. I'll live. It's worse than it looks."

"Are your parents home?"

"No. My mum took Sam over to the pool and was going to drop Tammy at a friend's house before she went to deliver some stuff to clients. Dad's at work."

Up above, Freedom circled, his hawk sharp sight homing in on his friend and seeing the damage done to him. He screeched in fury. Bloody hell, who did that to you, Paul? I'm going to rip out his guts!

Severus looked up and concealed a sigh, he could understand what Freedom had screamed, even though he could barely see the hawk. He made haste to usher Paul inside the house, before Freedom forgot himself and came down and landed on his shoulder.

"A hawk!" Paul exclaimed. "Look, Mr. Snape! A hawk!" He pointed, his injuries forgotten.

"Yes, there's a nest somewhere around here. Sometimes you can see them flying in the morning." He gently took the boy's shoulder. "Come inside, Paul. You need that eye and nose fixed."

"I'm fine, honest!" the other insisted.

"And I should see the other boys, right?" Severus asked. "Inside, Mr. Mosier. You aren't the first boy I've patched up after a brawl, and you certainly won't be the last. Just ask Harry." He guided the youngster into the house, leaving the gardening tools and watering can upon the porch.

Ignoring the boy's protests, he led Paul into the kitchen and sat him at the table. Harry came thundering down the stairs a few minutes later.

"Hey, I thought it was you I saw from my window, Paul," Harry said, then he stopped dead. "Good God, what happened to you? Your nose looks like a cauliflower. Just kidding."

"Real funny. I forgot to watch out for ogres and one stomped me." He winced as Severus tilted his head back and felt his nose with practiced fingers. "Ouch!"

"Easy. Nothing's broken. Harry, get him an ice pack to put on that eye. I'll be right back with some salve and peroxide, that cut on your eyebrow needs to be cleaned." Severus said and rose to his feet, departing the kitchen for the medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom. "Damn bullies!"

Paul groaned but made no move to get up. He accepted the ice pack Harry handed him gratefully.

"Da hates bullies something terrible," Harry told Paul after Severus had left. "Because he used to get beat up too when he was a kid. Only don't ever tell him I told you that, okay?"

Paul nodded. "That seems . . .impossible . . .your dad . . .he's like freakin' scary as hell . . ."

"Yeah, well, he wasn't always. How did it happen?"

"I was stupid and forgot to keep watch for Big Bart and his dumbarse friends. They hang out by the train tracks near the animal shelter where I volunteer. I was just getting off my shift and starting home when they ambushed me. They're bigger and stronger and it's hard to fight off three all by yourself."

"It normally is," Severus said, his tone darkening. He carried some sticking plasters, a container of his Bruise Balm, a soft wet cloth, and some peroxide and cottonballs. "Then again, bullies aren't known for fighting fair. Take the ice off and hold still." He sat down next to the other boy and soaked a cottonball in the peroxide. "This will sting, but that cut needs to be cleaned." He gently swabbed out the long gash above Paul's left eye.

The boy hissed between his teeth but otherwise did not cry out.

Severus inspected the cut, then pronounced it not deep enough to need stitches. "Just a butterfly bandage." He proceeded to put some on with the plasters, making sure they would hold. "Close your eye and let me put some of this salve on. It'll help the bruising and swelling."

"That's the best salve there is." Harry boasted. "My dad swears by it."

Severus smoothed some on Paul's eye and the rest upon his nose, after wiping off the blood with the soft cloth. "Put the ice back on your eye. The salve will reduce the inflammation and swelling as well and you should look ten times better by tomorrow. Are you hurt anywhere else? In my experience, once a gang of bullies knocks you down, they like to kick you in the ribs."

Paul shook his head. "Not this time. I-I mean, it was only one of them who hit me."

"Then this has happened before?" Severus queried, looking at the other boy with one of his piercing stares.

"A couple of times."

Severus knew that probably meant "all the time" or "any time they could catch me off-guard." His mouth tightened, for he detested those who attacked en masse and tormented others for no particular reason. "Do you know these boys?"

"Not really. They always hang around by the train tracks, they like beating up little kids and stealing their money, one of them I think was arrested once for breaking and entering. I try and avoid them, but today . . ."

Severus looked thoughtful. "Harry, what would you say if I offered Paul an opportunity to share your boxing sessions?"

"Fine with me," Harry agreed affably. He looked at his bruised and battered friend, recalling all too well what that felt like. "I used to have a problem with bullies too. Till Da taught me how to box."

Paul's good eye widened. "You know how to box, Mr. Snape? Like a pro?"

"No, I'm no professional. I learned for self-defense and anger management."

"Anger management?"

"Boxing is a great stress reliever. Hitting a bag is much better than hitting a person," Severus clarified. "Harry and I spar once a week, down in the basement. Would you be interested in learning how to give those bullies a taste of their own medicine?"

Paul grinned and nodded eagerly. "Hell yeah, Mr. Snape!" Then he flushed and added, "Please excuse my language. Mum would skin me if she heard me talk to you that way."

"I'll overlook it, this time. Though Harry will tell you, if he hasn't already, that I intensely dislike foul language. And punish it accordingly."

Paul made a face. "With liquid Dawn?"

"He prefers a bar of Ivory," Harry told him, also grimacing. The two exchanged a glance of mutual commiseration.

"I'll remember. When can I start the lessons?"

"Give your face a day or so to heal, and then you can come over on Sunday," Severus told him. "I usually have one to two hour sessions with Harry. If you would like, I can speak to your parents about them."

"They won't mind. Dad's been after me forever to join a gym or a sport. And once Mum sees my face . . .she won't mind either." Paul said.

"Nevertheless, here is my number, if they wish to speak with me," Severus wrote down the house phone on a slip of paper and handed it to the boy. "In a week or so, you should have some proficiency, enough to defend yourself long enough to startle or shock them and escape. It may also help to have a friend with you, since bullies usually hesitate to attack two people."

"I wouldn't mind volunteering at the animal shelter," Harry said. "if you think they'd need me."

"They always need people," Paul laughed. "You wouldn't mind then?"

"No, I like animals."

"And it would be good for you to get out and do something useful in the neighborhood," Severus agreed. Then he added sternly, "But no bringing home a stray dog, Harry Potter-Snape."

"How about a cat?"

"You already have an owl," Severus reminded him.

"Killjoy."

"My mum said the same thing when I first started working there," Paul said. "Then she came to pick me up one day and we went home with Scooter, my tabby."

Harry looked hopeful.

"Don't even think about it."

"Why? Afraid you're going to be tempted by a pair of sad kitty eyes?" Harry teased.

Severus shot him an indignent look. "That won't happen. No animals."

Harry was about to argue further, but Paul nudged him. "Just wait. My mum said the same thing."

Severus ignored their adolescent scheming and rose to his feet. "I need to finish planting my hyacinths. You may have breakfast if you'd like, Paul."

"Thanks, but I already ate."

"Then we can go and play Mortal Kombat," Harry suggested. "I really want to beat Scorpion."

"He's easy," Paul said dismissively. "I can beat him with Reptile in my sleep."

Severus left the two of them to their discussion and returned to his gardening, musing that there was never a dull moment around his household.