A rush of adrenalin washed over Harry as he stealthily made his way down the softly lit hallway. The front door seemed so far away, but that was part of the excitement. Harry had always loved the feeling of adventure, of pushing the limits, and living on the edge. Coming close to getting caught, but escaping by the seat of your pants. Hearing all those stories of how he was just like his father made Harry ignore the little voice in his head that said if Snape caught him, he'd be in deep trouble.

The clock ticked in time with the blood pounding in his ears. Just a little closer now-he was almost there, just a few more feet. He knew he was being silly, but his heart beat a little faster as he rushed past Snape's closed bedroom door. After all, he was safely hidden under the invisibility cloak. The cloak was made for an adult, and Harry was a smaller-than-average thirteen-year-old, so he knew that he was being paranoid. He was well hidden, and safe under the cloak; all was quiet, and Snape was asleep. At least he hoped that Snape was asleep.

He started to feel excited when he saw the shiny metal of the door handle glisten with the light of the candlelight. Just a few more steps now.

Harry clasped his hand over the door knob and suddenly, buzzing rang in his ears, and what felt like a jolt of electricity sent tingles throughout his body.

Harry's heart dropped into his throat when loud sirens made his ears ring, and he could hear the unmistakable rustle of robes behind him. Harry finally peeled his fingers off the doorknob and forced his wobbly legs to back up against the wall.

Harry watched in horror as Snape came dangerously close to where he was standing. He thought that his heart would jump out of his chest--it was beating so fast. He was terrified that Snape could hear him gasp for breath.

Snape held his wand in a defensive position. "If that's you Black, show yourself this instant, you bloody bastard."

Harry's jaw dropped.

Two thoughts raced through his mind. First, Snape thought that Sirius Black had come to Hogwarts? And, secondly, Snape thought that "Harry" had a potty mouth?

Harry stared wide-eyed as Snape began furiously whipping his wand in all directions, spewing out a string of Latin phrases. He was frozen to the spot. He knew that he should make a break for it before-

Snape spun around and began walking towards the hallway--walking towards...Harry's bedroom!

Harry snapped out of his trance, and clutching his cloak to his body so that he didn't trip on it, ran as fast as he could towards his room. He slid by Snape, perilously close, and Snape stopped for a moment and looked around suspiciously when a cold gust of air made his robes ripple.

Harry's stomach lurched when Snape glanced in his direction, but swallowed his fear and ran for his bedroom as fast as his rubber-like legs would carry him. Harry was thankful that he had not closed his door firmly, but still held his breath as the hinges creaked slightly. He slipped into the room as quietly as he could, whipped the cloak off, and stuffed it at the bottom of his trunk as quickly as he could.

Harry had no sooner jumped into bed, and pulled the blankets over himself, than Snape opened the door and stepped inside the room.

Harry could hear the muffle of footsteps on the lush carpet, and clenched his eyes firmly shut when he heard Snape coming closer. He tried to force his ragged breathing to a slower, calmer rate, so that Snape would think that he was really sleeping. He shivered as he felt Snape's presence looming over him. He could feel the man staring down at him and he wondered what Snape was thinking. Was he suspicious? Or was he checking that Harry was alright? No, couldn't possibly be. Snape wouldn't give a damn if he was alright.

Finally relaxing when he heard Snape walk away and the click of the door being closed, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Woah, that was a close call. Okay, so he may be a Gryffindor, but he didn't mind admitting that almost getting caught by Snape was right up there in the fear department. Yeah, so maybe Snape wasn't a troll, or a basilisk, or the scary monster that lived under Quirrel's turban, but he was just a little too bat-like, with his glittering obsidian eyes, midnight-black hair hanging in greasy lumps around his sallow face; black robes that rose and billowed when he glided down the corridors of Hogwarts, almost looking like he was walking on air--so silent were his footsteps. He was just waiting in the shadows to prey upon unsuspecting students who dared to break the rules that were written in stone. No flexibility there, Harry thought bitterly.

Harry didn't sleep well the rest of the night, and when he did manage to sleep, his dreams were riddled with images of his uncle, who then morphed into Snape grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up on his toes. You're nothing but a freak, and this is what we do to freaks. Snape opened his mouth and his yellow teeth turned into fangs. He could feel Snape's hot breath coming closer...the pointy fangs on his neck, about to-

Harry shot up in bed, beads of sweat trickling down his face. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and wrapped his arms around himself tightly to stop shivering. Although Snape had never laid a hand on him, Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Snape, just like his Uncle Vernon, would lose patience with him and hit him too. This was Snape, after all. But then, Snape had seemed really angry when he had realised that his uncle hit him. Though only a short time had passed since Harry had left Privet Drive, and Snape had found him at The Leaky Cauldron, Harry had realised what a paradox Snape was. He could be exceedingly cruel and impatient, yet fiercely protective and brave. But still, Harry wasn’t taking any chances.

------

Severus looked down on the sleeping boy and cursed himself for the feeling of relief that washed over him to see that he was safe. Blast Potter, he thought to himself. He didn't want to worry about the brat; he didn't want to care about James Potter's son, he thought in disgust. Severus forced himself to look away from the pale child with the faint hint of a bruise still present under his eye.

"Nox," he said quietly and then slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. He put his wand back into his pocket, intending on keeping it close to his person, should whomever tried to breach his wards, dare to make another attempt.

Severus knew that he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon; his mind was racing. All he could think of was how he was hoping that it was he who found Black; the man responsible for Lily's death would pay. Of that Severus vowed.

-------

Harry woke up with a blinding headache the next morning, that made even his eyes feel as though they were being pulled out of his sockets. He had tossed and turned, and his dreams had been disturbing, to put it mildly. Not only had he dreamt of Uncle Vernon, hitting him over and over again, and Snape boring into his soul with his dark eyes, but then he dreamt that Sirius Black was at Hogwarts, and he had come for Harry... And he dreamt of a large, black dog with glittering coal-black eyes...

Harry fumbled for his glasses on the night table, and tried to swallow down the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him. He looked around the room again in awe at how unexpectedly nice it was.

His hands shook as he slid his glasses over the bridge of his nose. He was right, it was rather cool in the dungeons when the sun went down. Although Snape had told him to unpack yesterday, Harry hadn't bothered, since his possessions were so meagre. He went over to his trunk, and pulled out a pair of Dudley's old slippers that had seen better days. He slipped them on his feet which were numb from the cold, and thought that since they were riddled with holes, that they wouldn't offer much warmth. He searched through the piles of overly-large, stained and frayed clothing, until he found a faded dressing gown that reached below his ankles. Dudley was the same age as him, but was not only much heavier, but several inches taller as well. Harry tugged the dressing gown up, and wrapped the belt around the folded fabric so that it now reached above the top of his feet.

Harry's stomach churned when he saw his invisibility cloak folded haphazardly at the bottom of the trunk, where he had stashed it in panic the night before. His heart raced just thinking about how close he had come to being caught last night. But his anxiety was due to more than just the fact that he had come close to being apprehended last night; he couldn't help the shivers that raced up his spine at Snape's words last night.

Why did Snape think that Sirius Black would come to Hogwarts, and why did Snape think that he would try to break into Snape's quarters, of all places? Harry shuddered; he just knew that Snape and Dumbledore had been hiding something from him--something to do with Sirius Black, but what on earth could Sirius Black possibly have to do with him?

Harry took a deep breath, and held on tightly to the doorknob for a few minutes, trying to gather up the courage to face Snape.

---------

"Sit down Mr. Potter," Snape said coolly.

His eyes widened in surprise as he studied the too-thin, pale boy with the dark smudges underneath his eyes. The boy looked even smaller, more fragile and vulnerable looking in the harsh light of day, dressed in an over-large dressing gown and slippers three sizes too large for him--riddled with holes. He felt that unwanted surge of fury well up inside him again, and surprised himself with the depth of his desire to throttle those Muggles within an inch of their sorry lives.

Damn, why did the boy have to look at him with those large haunted eyes, looking so unsure of himself? This wasn't the Potter he was used to. He was used to the arrogant, defiant tone, and cocky, James Potter look-alike, not this waif-like, wisp of a child who looked like a strong wind might blow him away.

Harry looked at Snape uncertainly, as he hesitantly pulled out a chair and sat down. A steaming bowl of porridge stood before him, and the delicious aroma made his stomach ache with hunger.

Snape nodded for him to eat.

Harry poured some cream and sprinkled a little brown sugar on top. He felt his insides warm up as he savoured the the sweet, creamy texture of the oatmeal. As usual though, he was full after only a few spoonfuls; he put the spoon down, looking uncertainty at Snape. The man had not forced him to eat more than he was capable since he had bumped into him at The Leaky Cauldron, but he was worried that the man's thin patience would run out, and he would reprimand him for not finishing his meals. But Snape only pointed his wand at Harry's bowl and vanished it away.

Severus fixed Harry with his dark eyes, over the tip of his coffee cup. "Did you sleep well Mr. Potter?" he asked suddenly.

Harry's eyes widened. "Uh, well, uh-alright I guess sir," he said quietly. He was not about to tell Snape that he dreamt that he was a vampire and was about the sink his long, pointy fangs into his neck.

Snape's eyes narrowed as though he could read Harry's mind. "Hmm..." he said noncommittedly. "Now, that breakfast is finished, I think it's time to discuss the rules Mr. Potter."

Harry groaned inwardly. Here it comes. There goes my summer, he thought bitterly.

"We've already discussed bedtime; now we will discuss what I expect from you during your stay here. Until Madam Pomfrey clears you for more strenuous activity, you will follow her dictates to the letter." He looked at Harry with a stern expression. "You are not to do more for the next several days than catching up on your summer homework; and rest."

Harry's face fell. It was bad enough that he was confined to bed rest, but now he had to do homework? He knew that he should be grateful though because being with Snape was still loads better than being with the Dursleys. Harry couldn't believe that that thought just entered his mind. Imagine thinking that being with Snape for three weeks was preferable than being with anybody! But, although Snape was brusque, he made sure that Harry had a nice room, made sure that he was fed properly, and even protected him—though Harry wasn’t certain what Snape was protecting him from.

"Yes sir," Harry finally said. It was no use arguing after all. He knew that he wouldn't win, and it would seem ungrateful after everything Snape had done for him.

"Next week, when Madam Pomfrey clears you for normal activity, we will perhaps take a trip to Diagon Alley to obtain your school supplies, and-" He looked at Harry's bathrobe in disgust. "-purchase you some decent clothing."

Harry's face heat up in shame.

Before Harry could wallow in his embarrassment any further, Snape continued on with his lecture, fixing him with his dark eyes. "The Headmaster has already warned you about the rules concerning your safety. However-" At this his voice lowered to an even more stern tone. "-you are under no circumstances allowed out of the safety of my quarters without an escort, and not without my express permission. Is that perfectly clear Mr. Potter?"

Harry's heart sunk. It sounded as though he were going to be a prisoner in Snape's quarters.

"But sir, does that mean that I can't go around the castle or visit Hagrid, or-"

"It means just what I said Potter. You are not permitted to take one breath without my permission. Is that clear?" he asked again, but this time glaring at Harry in a way that suggested what his answer had better be.

"Crystal," Harry said resentfully.

"I would watch my tone, if I were you Mr. Potter, or you may find yourself in detention, scrubbing cauldrons with me for the remainder of your stay here."

Harry gritted his teeth.

"Now, as I was saying, once you are cleared for normal activity, we will purchase your school supplies, as well as some-" His lip curled in disdain. "-decent apparel. We will discuss a more specific schedule later, but I believe that your time would best be served bringing your school work up to an acceptable level." He looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Perhaps we can use this time to hone your pathetic potions skills."

Harry sighed. Yeah, this was going to be a really long three weeks.

"I also expect you to keep your room presentable, and make your bed each morning. I expect you to address me with the utmost respect and-" He looked at Harry sternly. "-foul language will not be tolerated."

Harry rolled his eyes. With his head down of course, so Snape wouldn't notice.

--

By the time that Madam Pomfrey cleared Harry for normal activity days later, Harry was thoroughly sick of resting and doing homework. He desperately wanted fresh air. He begged and pleaded with Snape to allow him to visit Hagrid.

"I've consulted with the Headmaster, Mr. Potter, and he's agreed to allow you some time with Hagrid on your agreement to certain conditions. You may spend two hours with him each afternoon, but you are not permitted to visit with him other than the allotted time, nor will you make the trip to his hut unescorted. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Harry nodded excitedly.

"If you abuse this privilege, you will be confined to my quarters for the remainder of your stay. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

So, that was how Harry found himself with his face smushed up against the large man's broad chest, in a one-armed hug by the kind-hearted giant, the first day that Harry was allowed to resume normal activity. After Hagrid released him from the crushing embrace, he looked down fondly at Harry.

"Harry," he said with a huge grin on his rugged features. "It's good to see you lad." He took Harry gently by the shoulders, well as gentle as the big man was able to, and examined him from head to toe.

"You look healthy, Harry. Still a little on the thin side, but I see that Professor Snape is taking good care of you."

And Harry did look good. His face was flushed in a healthy glow for the first time in weeks, with the fresh, clean air of the Scottish Highlands. He had spent the morning revising his Charms essay three times before it was up to Snape's standards, and he still had to write the final version neatly tomorrow.

It was agreed upon, or rather, it was ordered-and Harry obeyed-that Harry was to spend two hours each morning studying, then lunch, then he was allowed to visit with Hagrid. It seemed to Harry that his whole day was divided into two hour increments. After his visit with Hagrid was over, Snape insisted that he rested for another two hours, and then Snape was going to tutor him in Potions. Oh joy!

After Severus walked Harry down to Hagrid's hut, he spent the next two hours preparing the base for the potions that he would brew with Potter. Although the Headmaster had agreed to Potter's visit with Hagrid, Severus did not agree that it was safe. He didn't trust the soft-hearted man to keep Potter in line, nor to understand the danger the boy was really in. The man was like putty in Potter's hand; Hagrid was like a child himself. He felt very uneasy leaving the boy in Hagrid's care, but he felt more uneasy that he worried over Potter at all. Dammit, he cursed himself. He had almost added the wrong ingredient, yet again. He really had to get the brat off of his mind, or he would cause an explosion the likes of Longbottom's.

--

Harry climbed up on the large stool in Hagrid's hut, a big grin lighting up his pale face.

He chuckled when Hagrid placed a large teacup and saucer before him, and a large cauldron cake. Harry knew that one bite and he'd probably chip a tooth, but it felt so wonderful to be sitting here across from the large man, Fang sleeping on the floor in the corner, with his large paws covering his floppy ears.

"So Harry," Hagrid began, "what's this I hear 'bout your relatives not treatin’ you right?"

Harry's felt his face heat up. "Uh, yeah, -um, I'd really rather not talk about it Hagrid, if you don't mind."

"Oh, of course Harry. Didn't mean to pry."

"That's okay Hagrid. Maybe some day I'll tell you about it, but right now, I-"

"That's okay Harry, you don't have to be explaining to me. I'd like to sic Fang on that fat slob Dursley." The large man's face contorted in anger.

"Hey-" Hagrid jumped up suddenly upturning the table and clattering the cups and silverware. "What'dya say I show you some new little creatures that I got a really good deal on from my buddy in Diagon Alley./"

The corners of Harry's mouth lifted. He could only imagine what creatures Hagrid had gotten hold of now!

And as soon as they went outside, Harry's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Uh Hagrid, what is that?"

A large, purple creature which looked very much like a one-eyed porcupine, with its quills quivering, looked at Harry; studying him, with his large blue eye. Harry shivered.

"That's a Dragupine," Hagrid announced proudly.

"A what?"

"A Dragupine. Part Dragon, and part porcupine."

Harry jumped back suddenly when the creature opened its mouth and a streak of purple flames came spewing out. Then, Harry ducked when it started darting out quills, and one lodged in the large oak tree behind where Harry's head had been a moment ago.

"Now, Ned, that's not a very friendly thing to do, now is it?" Hagrid scolded the now chastened creature.

Harry though, thought that he would just as soon keep his distance.

Just as Harry had recovered from his scare at nearly being quilled, he jumped when Fang, who had been watching the whole incident with bored indifference, suddenly lifted his head, bared his teeth, and began growling.

Harry whirled around quickly to see what had caught Fang's attention.

The hair on Harry's arms stood on end, when two familiar dark eyes, that belonged to a very large black dog, once again stared back at him. Before Harry had a chance to be properly terrified though, Fang went barrelling after the unknown canine, with Hagrid in tow.

If Harry's legs didn't suddenly feel as though they would cave beneath him, he would have appreciated the humour in seeing Fang chase after a big black dog, and Hagrid chasing after the two of them yelling, "Come back here, you crazy creature."

"Fang!"

Harry could hear Hagrid's booming voice echo through the forest, as it got further and further away.

Although Fang was large and quite scary, he was just too big and sluggish to be very fast, and lost track of the large dog quite quickly.

Both Hagrid and Fang came back fifteen minutes later, empty-handed.

Hagrid didn't seemed fazed at all about the incident and Harry told himself that he was overreacting, but he couldn't get the image of the large, wolf-like creature imprinted on his retina, out of his mind. This was what--three times now, he'd seen the dog? The other two times he had written it off as his over-active imagination, and seeing shadows in the night, but this time, there was no denying what he'd seen. Icy shivers rippled up his spine. Was the dog following him? And why did he have this strange feeling that it all tied into Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban?

-----------

"Mr. Potter- focus," Snape snapped impatiently. "You must crush the Shrivelfigs, not mash them."

Harry was seething. What the hell was the difference between mashing and crushing for Merlin's sake?

Severus took a deep breath to still his rising impatience. This boy was hopeless at Potions, and no amount of private instruction was going to change that fact. The boy had obviously not inherited Lily's inherent talent for Potions. He was Potter's son through and through, he thought acidly.

Harry wanted to throw the slimy creatures right in the old bat's face. He was actually getting quite frustrated at his own incompetence, but he still blamed the evil git for making him fumble with the small cutting instrument which required extreme dexterity. Of course Harry's hands were shaking so badly, that every time Snape barked out an order or an insult, Harry's quivering fingers just wouldn't obey.

"What do you think I'm doing, you slimy git?" Harry grumbled under his breath.

Of course, Snape had not earned his nickname of The Bat of the Dungeons for nothing. He had acute hearing to go along with his seeming ability to read minds.

"I think perhaps that after we're finished here, you will scrub those cauldrons until bedtime, Mr. Potter," Snape said in a silky voice, pointing to a large pile of sooty cauldrons that almost reached the ceiling.

Harry groaned. His fingers were already aching and raw from chopping those squirmy little bugs. He'd really have to learn to not let his big mouth betray him.

When Snape proclaimed it was bedtime, Harry was never so happy to lay his head on a soft pillow.

Fortunately for Harry, the rest of the week went a little more smoothly. It seemed that after the fiasco that was his Potion lesson the first night, Snape controlled his impatience somewhat, and Harry forced himself to pay careful attention to Snape's instructions, with the result that Harry found himself actually looking forward to their nightly brewing sessions.

Oftentimes, Harry even found his way to the lab during his scheduled self-study sessions, and simply read a book in the corner while Snape brewed. Ron would think I'm positively barmy, Harry thought ruefully, that I'm actually voluntarily spending time in the lab with Snape. Strangely enough though, Harry found it calmed him, with the soothing aromas of the brewing potions sifting through the air, and Harry actually found himself seeking out Snape's company, rather than be by himself studying. Eventually, they fell into a quiet routine, and Harry had to admit that staying with Snape was not the ordeal he had imagined it would be. Yes, the man was still cool, aloof and bad-tempered, but if Harry was careful to be respectful and obey the rules, the man was not as prickly as in a classroom setting. The trick was to find the balance.

-----------

"Sir," the tall, blond Auror called out to his superior, as he stepped over the charred objects strewn over the dusty, ash-stained carpet. The walls were smeared with cinder and soot; the canvas of the charmed paintings slashed—their occupants having vacated their frames long ago.

An older man with dark hair, peppered with grey turned to look at the object that the younger man had picked up. He stared at the shiny wooden box that had escaped the effects of the explosion and subsequent fire, as it had been hidden under a panel beneath the rug.

"What do you think it is, sir?" the younger man asked curiously.

"I'm not sure." He pointed his wand at the lock and said "Alohomora," but the box remained firmly shut. "Perhaps there is a key hidden there as well." He pointed to the hidden compartment.

The blond man kneeled down and stared inside the empty, black space. He shook his head. "There is nothing else in there, sir."

"Well, we'll bring it to Headquarters and have the Department of Magical Mysteries take a look at it. It could be cursed."

"Yes sir."

"Any sign of Black, Richard?"

"No sir, I think that if he was here, he's long gone now."

The older man nodded and motioned for the other Aurors to follow.

They stopped when they reached the end of the pathway; they shivered when they read the dedication that was imprinted on the sign swinging back and forth with the strong gusts of wind, accompanying the cracks of thunder, and the crackle of lightening that illuminated the midnight sky...

This plaque dedicated to:

Lily and James Potter, who lost their lives on the fateful night of October 31, 1981.

They will be forever remembered for their bravery in the face of You-Know-Who.