1979

Walking through the front door at ten-thirty in the morning, Severus lumbered into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair. Looking over the table, he noticed a pot of tea and an extra cup. Grabbing the cup instantly, he claimed it as his own and poured himself a generous cup. He took a long drink before he actually realized that there was someone else at the table with him.

“Dursley,” he nodded a late greeting before taking another sip.

Vernon Dursley looked over at his brother-in-law, not bothering to hide his disgust. “Snape,” he growled. “And where have you been this morning?”

“None of your business,” the Potions Master said steadily, looking into his teacup. He did not want to discuss what he had done last night or any other night. The less the Muggle knew about him the better it pleased Severus.

“It most certainly is my business when you come barging into my house,” the large man barked. “I’m letting you and your bloody wife stay here because Petunia wanted to help.”

Looking up, his eyes hard, Severus glared at his brother-in-law with equal dislike. Muttering a curse under his breath, he made a leg of the chair Vernon occupied break, sending the Muggle crashing to the floor. The barest hint of a curve formed on the Death Eater’s lips as he turned his attention back to his tea. After the kind of night he had had, this sort of amusement was just what he needed.

“Ah!” Vernon yelped. “You…you did that on purpose!” he bellowed, trying to stand up.

“Me?” Severus glared right back at the other man, watching with satisfaction as the fat man seemed to be thinking twice about crossing the wizard. “You’re accusing me of breaking that chair?” he raised his eyebrow. “I think you should blame your weight. You’re far too heavy for someone in general. It’s not healthy.”

“Shut up!” Vernon snapped, turning to look back down at the ruined chair. “You need to fix it,” he ordered. “I have people coming this afternoon.”

Rolling his eyes, the wizard took out his wand and fixed the chair instantly. Although it had given him pleasure to see how fast he could make Vernon’s face go purple, he did not want to have to look at it for very long afterwards. It was an ugly sight to witness. Why had Petunia married the wretched Muggle again?

Placing his wand back into his cloak, Severus once again silent and turned back to his tea. He had been hoping Vernon would not still be at home when he got back from this morning’s meeting with Dumbledore, reporting last night’s meeting with the Death Eaters, but it would appear that he had been wrong. Not an event that happened very often, but it still drove the wizard crazy when he was.

“Once you’re done, go upstairs and stay there for a few hours,” Vernon instructed, taking his cup to the sink.

Snapping his head back over the watch the Muggle, Severus scowled. “Why?” He was actually insulted. This fat Muggle wanted to hide him?

“Because I don’t want my clients to see you,” Vernon growled. “I’d never be able to make the sale!”

Snorting, Severus stood up and put away his cup as well. “Fine. Then I’ll take Lily out for lunch. Where is she?”

Sighing, as though the wizard had just asked the world of him, Vernon took a step back, not quite comfortable with how close the wizard was to him. “She and Petunia went out shopping for a bit. Said they’d be back later.”

An idea struck inside the Potions Master’s mind. Where it had come from he could not say, but he was bored and in need of something to occupy his time. He knew he should probably just go upstairs to bed or catch up on some important brewing, but this would be more fun. He was in a particular mood, one that demanded that he do something spontaneous and stupid. After all, he wasn’t even twenty yet, he could still get away with these sorts of things, right?

“Out?” he looked at his brother-in-law dejectedly. “Why, then that’s more reason why I don’t want to go upstairs all by myself. I’ll get lonely!”

“For heaven’s sake!” Vernon shouted, just the kind of reaction Severus had wanted. “You spend all your time alone! You always hate company.”

Crossing his arms and straightening up to his full height, in a way the wizard had learned intimidated people, Severus pinned Vernon with his gaze. “I’m not a dog that you can simply lock away, Dursley, and if I want to stay down here, then by damn I will.”

Before the argument could ensue, the doorbell rang. But before Vernon could respond, Severus turned on his heels and went for the door. As he went, he changed his clothes into a more Muggle style, consisting of a black, long sleeve shirt and gray long pants. His lips twitched as he fought down another grin as he heard his brother-in-law’s frantic scraping about.

Opening the door, Severus looked at the three very ordinary looking Muggles before him. “Can I help you?” he asked sternly, hoping that one might run away.

“Uh…hello!” one said after a moment. “Is this the home of Vernon Dursley?” he looked around uncertainly.

“No,” Severus snapped. “No Vernon here, now get lost!”

Startled, the three Muggles looked about, as though they might find their answers out in the lawn. “Do you know where he lives?” another asked.

“No, now get lost!” Severus growled before he slammed the door shut. For once, he actually did smile. “That was fun,” he spoke quietly to himself.

“Where are they?” Vernon came in from the parlor. “I thought you were going to escort them in!”

Raising an eyebrow, Severus peered down at Vernon from his nose. “Wrong house,” he said flatly. “I’m going upstairs.”

Quickly apparating back into his and Lily’s room, Severus found that a chortle came out. He knew he should not have done that, but it had been fun. It would teach the fat man a lesson or two. Flopping on his back onto the bed, the wizard found himself smiling. He could not wait to tell Lily. She would be angry at him of course, but he knew she would find it amusing later. Beside, he had not hexed the fat fool yet, an acomplishment he was quite proud of. She would forgive him this little sin.

Once Vernon figured out exactly what happened, it was official from that day on, Vernon Dursley and Severus Snape hated each other.

When Harry’s eyes flittered open, the first thing that came to his notice was that the sun was actually fairly high in the sky. Alarmed, the boy sat up from bed, eyes open. He had slept in! Snatching up his glasses, Harry realized that he was actually in his bed. Had he not slept on the floor last night? Where was Snape!Jumping out of bed, startling Hedwig, Harry ran to the door, finding that it was open. Thoughts about yesterday came spilling back into his head. With a sudden stab to the heart, Harry realized that the Potions Master had left. The man was gone, had probably woken up sometime last night and left.

Biting his lower lip, the young wizard tried to tell himself that he did not care. If the greasy dungeon bat wanted to leave, then fine. What did he care if the slimy git wanted to leave? It was just like Snape to go slithering back into his hole once things became… complicated. Let the man leave! He had been doing just fine before that…that lousy Slytherin showed up to ruin his life!

But then why did Harry feel so devastated? He’d only know that the Potions Master was his father for less than twenty-four hours, so why did he care so much? The man had been terrible to him for three years now, why did one little piece of information change all that?

It’s because you always wanted a father. And now you find you have one, but one that doesn’t want you, Harry’s mind filled in, irritating him with its logic. Shut up! he told himself sternly. If Snape wanted to run, then he should run. The man was a coward anyway.

Using the restroom, Harry did his business quickly, wishing he had checked the clock to see what time it was. The boy began his shower when he noticed that one of the wash clothes had already been used. Who would have thought Snape would be one to freshen up, he thought unfairly.

Shaking his head, he only gave his reflection a passing glance before stepping into the hot water. The steaming water burned his sensitive skin, where welts now flourished from where his uncle had beaten him last night. It had not been a particularly bad beating, but then when could you say that a beating was good? Closing his eyes, hissing, Harry ducked under the water and washed quickly. The stinging in his back and backside were terrible.

Once out, Harry turned to look at himself in the mirror only a moment before he turned to leave for his room. He had forgotten to bring his clothes in with him. So he changed quickly in his room, gave Hedwig a loving pat before he went downstairs. He had to get ready for breakfast quickly before Vernon or Petunia woke up and found that he was not keeping up with his chores.

Racing down the stairs, Harry went to the kitchen, only to be startled at the sight of Severus Snape sitting silently, staring off into nothingness while nursing a cup of tea. What was Snape doing here? Hadn’t the man left?

A place in Harry’s heart melted once again when he realized that Snape had not abandoned him after all. He had stayed, his father had stayed! But why did the man look… sad?

“S-sir?” the boy called timidly, hoping he was not disturbing the Potions Master’s thoughts.

Keeping his eyes fixed forward, the professor did not turn his head to look at Harry. “I’m afraid that it gave me a nasty shock when I discovered the truth,” the man’s voice was soft. “I suppose I had suspected it when you were a first year, but I did not want to believe it. But I know the signs.”

“S-sir?” Harry plucked up his courage and walked into the room a little bit more. “What are you-”

“I’m surprised though,” Snape went on. “I did not want to think Petunia would ever let this happen. Especially not after all that she had seen when we were growing up.”

“Sir?” Harry was about to say more when Snape suddenly turned and looked at the boy, his obsidian eyes blazing with fury.

“Come here,” the Potions Master said softly.

Although all instinct told the boy not to, the young wizard found himself complying with his professor’s demand. The moment he was within arms reach, Snape stood up and cupped Harry’s face in his cool hands. Harry jerked back, but again, the older wizard had a firm grip, having expected the reaction. Turning Harry’s face over, Snape looked down at the bruise and growled.

“Sit down,” he ordered the boy.

Harry scrambled to obey, but when he sat, he shot back up and winced at the literal pain in his butt. He cursed himself for letting on that he was hurt at all, and as expected, Snape was at his side in a moment. Looking down at his scrapped shoes, Harry wished he could disappear through the floorboards. It was over, Snape knew. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

“You are not,” it was not a question. “Let me see.”

Snape’s voice brooked no arguments, and Harry found himself taking off his shirt to show his professor. He heard the Potions Master growl low in his throat and shame washed over him. He heard the professor whispering several incantations. In an instant, the younger wizard found himself feeling much better than he had before. Had Snape… his father, just healed him?

But before Harry could fully register that, the Potion Master guided him to a chair and sat him down. The boy watched as the pro- his father- poured him a cup of tea. Harry tried not to look up, because he knew that the moment he did, Snape would start asking him questions. He hated it when people started asking him questions!

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” his father’s deep voice startled him. “How long has this been going on?”

Blushing fiercely, Harry glared down at the table. “N-not long. Just…”

“Don’t lie to me!” the ferocity behind the voice startled Harry, and the boy looked up to see a black fire swirling in the man’s usually empty tunnel eyes.

Glaring back, lest he start to cry in front of the man, Harry shrugged desperately. “I don’t know. Several years?”

“Several wouldn't happen to be thirteen, would it?” the Snape asked heatedly.

Horror flittered onto Harry’s face. How had Snape guessed that? Could the man really read minds, or had it just been a lucky guess? Why was he so mad? Why couldn’t Harry just tell the truth?

“Please stop,” the boy glared back down at the table. He did not want to get into this with anyone, especially Snape. The man had hated him for the past three years! But then he was his father now…

“Look at me,” Severus’s voice was gentle, catching Harry off guard. “Why didn’t you tell me?” the man’s voice almost sounded pleading.

“I…I didn’t think that you would care much, sir.”

The answer did not seem to please the Potions Master too much. He walked out into the hallway, his wand out. Out of thin air, the man made two large buckets of water appear. Curious, he watched as the man levitated them upstairs. What could he be doing with those?

After a moment of confusion, Harry got his answer when he heard three screams of surprise from upstairs. Paling, the boy realized just what his professor had done. He was stunned to say the least.

Snape walked back into the kitchen leisurely, stopping close to the door. At that moment, Harry heard a familiar booming coming down the stairs. A moment later, he saw Uncle Vernon’s livid purple face and dripping wet night clothes charging towards him. “Harry Potter!” the man yelled, his eyes focused on the boy.

Right when the large man was in the doorway, Snape slammed the door hard into Vernon’s face, cracking the door, and breaking the man’s nose. Looking over at his professor, Harry found Snape glaring down at his uncle dispassionately. Crying, Vernon gave a startled shout of pain before he looked up, “Who the hell-!” but then froze.

“Hello Vernon,” came the familiar silk voice.

Clutching his bleeding nose, the older Dursely looked up in shock. “Snape!”