1994

The first thing that flashed through the Potions Master’s mind when he saw Harry sitting at the table bone white, with tears in his eyes was that the boy was hurt, or injured in some manner. The alarm he felt for the boy was surprising, as this was still the same boy he had hated three years running. But no, he had not hated the boy per se, he had hated that fact that the child had been running around trying to act like the next James Potter. Beside, half his snark was to throw off the Death Eaters’ children. It would not do for one of the loyal to be seen showing favoritism for the Boy-Who-Killed-The-Master, now would it? Well… maybe not half….

But when the Potions Master’s eyes fell upon the paper in Harry’s hands, all of his panic was squeezed out of him, replaced only with tiredness. “Dear Merlin, what now?” it slipped out before he could think any better of it.

The boy’s head snapped up and looked over at Severus in a wide, frightened way; his green eyes panicked. But once realizing that he was staring at the professor, the boy’s eyes sobered into a composed veneer once more.

The sudden change from one extreme to the other was enough to fray the master wizard’s already badly damaged nerves. Without his consent, Severus found himself angry with the boy. Changing emotions like that was not healthy, he should know. Why couldn’t the boy just stay with one or the other? Perhaps then Snape might know what to do!

Stalking farther into the kitchen, literally dragging Vernon behind him, the professor looked down at his student. “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyeing the letter suspiciously. He was not sure what all Lily would tell her son if she thought Severus was dead. It made the wizard more than a little uncomfortable.

It was surprising when Harry stared up at his professor with equal, or perhaps more, doubt. For just a moment, the old Snape was back. Seeing that Potter brat glaring at him as he was, was enough to make Severus want to shake him until the child learned some manners. What was he looking for?

But not for the first time, Severus had to chant to himself that this was not the son of James Potter, this was his son. If there was any imperfection with the child’s breeding, it was probably Severus’s fault, as he would never blame Lily. Whatever this boy did, whatever he had been, the professor vowed to push it all aside, and break the child of all his stupid habits. He’d be damned before he let his son be the model for the Gryffindors!

“What is it?” Severus snapped, taking a seat across the table, as though he were dealing with a Death Eater.

Green eyes looked up at Severus again, causing the Potions Master’s heart to stop again. Why did he have to have her eyes? “I’m fine sir,” Harry responded softly. “Just… just a bit of a shock really.”

Noticing that Vernon and… the other boy- he would really have to learn that whale's name- were in the room, Severus began to feel at an acute disadvantage. “You,” he pointed at Vernon. “Go clean out that owl’s cage. We’ll discuss you’re punishment later,” he watched in satisfaction as the fat man trembled slightly before he left to do what he was told. “And you,” the wizard barked over to Dudley. “Go stand in the corner in the other room. No one wants to see you here.”

Dudley waited until he saw his father move before going. But at Snape’s command of “Now!” the boy charged into the parlor. Harry winced slightly, hoping nothing in there would fall and break. His cousin really did need to loose some weight… a lot of weight.

“P-Harry,” Snape’s mistake was corrected instantly, but the boy had still caught it. “What is wrong? Was there something in that letter you don’t understand?”

Although the Potions Master’s voice was not scathing, it was not necessarily gentle either. The man looked impatient and… worried? There was a distinctly uncomfortably air around the man, making Harry wonder if Sn- his father, was worried that there was something in the letter that he did not want Harry to know. Who really knew what went on in Snape’s mind? No one could ever tell. That’s why he made a good teacher, in a way.

“It’s… nothing, sir. I just…” Harry trailed off.

Underneath the table, Severus was ringing his hands. Being Head of Slytherin House, the Potions Master was used to dealing with distraught and whiny teenagers. Usually he just told them some useless garbage Minerva had told him to say about how life goes on or suck it up because things could be worse, but he felt that that would not do in this situation. However, he did feel a bit of pride in himself when he looked back on his candid advice and how his House respected his words and always followed what he had told them and they came out the better for it. But no, telling Harry to stop crying and do his homework would not resolve this situation. For either of them really.

“You are distressed,” the professor stated bluntly. “I assume that you’re distress is rooted in that letter. Tell me what’s wrong.” Not the most eloquent thing he had ever said, but Severus was a straight forward kind of man at heart. Everyone expected him to be that way.

Harry looked up at his f-father, and studied the man for a moment. His mother had fallen in love with the man, so there had to be something under all of Snape’s snark and impatience. There had to be something in this man that would inspire affection. Heck, even all the Slytherins liked the man. Even the Slytherins that were in trouble with the man still seemed to admire Snape. There had to be something more, deep down, something that could only be seen once you had been with the professor long enough.

“Mum said that this wasn’t my true appearance,” Harry blurted, his eyes wide and pleading.

The sudden rush of words caught Severus by surprise, but he managed to work them out, somehow, in his mind. He frowned at the boy across from him. “Well of course that’s not your true appearance!”

The declaration was once again met with silence. Severus was actually the more shocked of the two at the moment. It was logical that Harry, the product of Lily and Severus, would not look anything like James Potter. But that fact had not yet blossomed in the Potions Master’s mind until that moment. Harry would not, should not, look like James Potter!

This was not James Potter’s son!

“But I,” Harry’s talking snapped Severus out of his happy revelation. “I like the way I look.”

All joy drained from Severus instantly. Why had he gotten so excited? The boy was perfectly content with being the son of James Potter, even if it was a lie. Who would want to be known as the son of Severus Snape? Of course Harry liked his appearance now, no one wanted to look like a Snape. It was amazing how much the wizard found himself disappointed and… and hurt.

When the Potions Master looked at the child closely, he found that all he could see was the little baby he had held in his arms, unable to make the connection of James Potter at all. He could still see the soft fluff of raven hair the boy had had even then, and the bright, sparkling green eyes that had looked up at him with absolute trust and affection. It had nearly killed him that night, and Severus thought it might finish the job here and now.

“Of course,” he tried to sound uncaring. “It’s only natural. You want to look like the only father you’ve ever known. You’ve had the face for years.”

Harry was startled by the bitterness in the professor’s voice. Was Snape actually… offended by Harry’s comment? Was the man hurt that the younger wizard was not enthused about changing his appearance? Why should Snape care, it wasn’t his face that was going to change! But then again, it was the face of James Potter on the shoulder’s of Snape’s son.

“Well, I just meant that it was going to take some getting used to, is all,” Harry said quickly. He did not want to hurt the man. After all, Snape was his father now, and the last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt a family member… except Vernon. Oh, and perhaps Dudley.

The feared professor lifted an eyebrow in response. “I see,” his voice was quiet. “I believe it would,” he admitted. “Was there anything else that was troubling you?”

Shaking his head, Harry looked back down at the letter in his hands. “No. I was just… just wondering what I would look like now.”

Severus looked up sharply. Harry wanted to know what he should look like? The boy wanted to give up the appearance of the glorified James Potter? Why? Was the child trying to spare Severus’s feelings? That was something new to the wizard. No one, with the exception of Lily, had ever gone out of their way to make sure that he had not been hurt or offended.

“I could…try to remove the spell off of you,” Severus offered, finding himself becoming excited once again. “But I would have to know what spell was place over you. Does it say in the letter?”

“No,” Harry shook his head again. “But Mum said it was in the journal that she kept.”

Severus nodded and took out his wand. “Accio Lily’s journal,” he commanded, and a moment later, the leather bound journal came zooming down from upstairs and into the Potions Master’s hand.

It was easily caught by the long fingered hand, and instantly, Snape started flipping through the pages. Harry watched silently as the professor worked. He noted that the Slytherin seemed far too… excited about this. It actually made Harry smile. Perhaps deep down, the Potions Master did have a heart, you just had to know how to touch it.

“Here,” the deep voice spoke. “I found it,” he said unnecessarily. “It is a complex concealing spell wound with a glamours and mixed with a disfigurement charm.”

“Disfigurement!” Harry was alarmed and slightly offended. Maybe the old Snape was still there after all.

“That’s what it says,” the voice was flat, as though Snape had only heard the words, and not the tone. Which, Harry reflected, might have been a good thing. The spell seemed to be completely distracting the professor at the moment, so he did not get angry at Harry.

Waiting patiently as the Potions Master read, Harry made a quick review of things. He was going to let his most hated teachers point a wand at him and say a spell that he had never heard of before in his life. That did not seemed like a very smart thing to do; at least to Harry. But then, Snape was his father now, and could probably do what he wanted.

Snape began to wave his wand around, which, Harry realized with a start, was practice. Although every teacher at Hogwarts stressed that no student should ever cast a (friendly) spell on another fellow student before practicing first, it was still odd to see a grown man practicing. The Potions Master was a perfectionist, there seemed nothing the man could not do, but seeing him like this made Harry think of a much younger man, perhaps a seventh year.

“This is too complicated,” Severus said after several minutes. “I dare not try it until I have practiced more. I could permanently damage you.”

Damage him? What was he, a book! But Harry had to be thankful that Snape…his father, he had to keep reminding himself, wasn’t going to risk casting an unfamiliar spell on him.

“Thanks, I guess,” Harry muttered.

The Potions Master glared at the boy for a moment, before gently setting the journal aside. “Just be lucky that I’m a cautious man,” Severus warned. But then, he seemed unsure of himself, and Harry realized that the man was in his element when angry or intimidating. Snape seemed lost when it came to being friendly.

“I didn’t mean it like that, sir,” Harry felt obligated to stand up for himself.

Wearily, Severus ran his hand over his face. “I know,” he admitted softly. “But Harry, there is something we need to discuss.”

Fear spiked through Harry as he wondered what the professor meant by that. “Sir?” he prompted.

“About your living arrangements,” Snape clarified. “I do not want you living here with the Dursleys anymore. Bloodwards or not, you are not safe here.”

Relief and joy replaced trepidation. Not living with the Dursleys? That was wonderful news! Harry had waited all his life to hear those words, and they were just as good as he always dreamed they would be. “So what then?” he asked. “Where will I go?”

Severus paused at this. Where indeed. Where could he take Harry that would be safe? There was no place that Severus could take the child where the boy would be safe. At least not that he had thought of yet. And there was the fact that the Potions Master was not good with children. The only child the wizard had been exposed to over the years was Draco Malfoy. But even then he had not cuddled the child, nor had he been left alone with the blond boy for very long in a situation that was not a formal setting. What hope did he have of raising Harry?

“To the Weasleys, I think,” Severus said after a moment. “They’re properly situated in life, and would be able to care for you.”

“But what about you?” the panic in the boy’s voice was really quite touching. “Aren’t you going to stay with me?”

Again, those damn green eyes! It hurt, it actually hurt Severus to hear the disappointment and fear in the boy’s voice. “I’m running from every Dark Wizard in the United Kingdom, Harry,” he said sternly. “Everyone knows I would never stay with the Weasleys, and since no one knows where you are, and if we keep your moving secret, no one would be able to find you. I could always distract the Death Eaters away from you, anyhow. But we would have to iron out all the details later.”

“Where will you go?” Harry asked. “You can’t outrun the Death Eaters forever.”

Why was the child so concerned? “I do not have to. I just have to outrun them until September when the school year begins again. Once it does, there will be no possible way for the Death Eaters to get me without anyone noticing. A month is not that long for running.”

“But, what if I don’t want to stay with the Weasleys?” Why did I just say that? Harry wondered.

By the look on his face, Snape was thinking the same thing. “I thought you would want to stay with the Weasleys.”

“I do,” Harry amended quickly. “I just…I just don’t like that you don’t have a place to go.” He began to blush. He wasn’t making any sense.

“We cannot stay here,” Snape said carefully, eyeing the boy. “It is for the best if we separate. We cannot afford to be caught together, Harry. You’re the Boy-Who-Lived and I’m the errant Potions Master of the Dark Lord. I have too many secrets to hide and you are too valuable to be lost. I would not risk it.

“Anyway, I have no place that I could take you,” Severus went on once he saw the disappointment on Harry’s face. The boy thought his father didn’t want him! “It is better if you stay at a place where you’re safe and properly cared for.”

“Kay,” Harry acquiesced.

Not liking the defeated look on the child’s face, but unable to think of anything else to say, Severus took a piece of parchment and a quill and jotted down the past two days events, in code of course, before looking over at Hedwig.

The little Snow seemed to understand and flew over to Severus. The Potions Master tied the note on her leg. “Take this to Headmaster Dumbledore. It is for his hands only.”

When Severus opened a window, Hedwig took off. She did not quite know what was going on, but she was glad that the man that looked like her master was there to protect her Harry.

&&&&&

The rest of the day was spent idly for Harry. Snape had made the Dursleys cook, clean, and stand in the corner all day, only giving them meager portions for meals. But it was actually more than the Gryffindor would have thought his professor would be willing to give, considering how mad he was at Harry’s relatives.

As for Harry, he mostly did his homework, read, or watched the telly. Snape had not forbade him the luxury of watching the telly, and Harry relished in the opportunity. For the first time in his life, he was in control of the remote and the channel. It was a wonderful feeling.

But while Harry had the first fun summer at the Dursley’s he had ever had, Severus spent his time watching over the obnoxious family, reading, or just sitting quietly thinking. There were many details in which he hoped he could go over with the Headmaster, and though he thought he’d always hate the old man now, he could not deny that Albus Dumbledore was one of the only few wizards that could protect Harry… Severus’s son. Perhaps the Headmaster would take Harry to the Weasleys?

After dinner, while Harry was watching the television and Severus was reading, a commercial came on that caught the Potions Master’s attention. Marking the page in the book he was looking over, the wizard looked up when something was being said about an end of July sale. Was it the end of July? Yes, yes he supposed it was. He had gone to the Death Eater gathering on the twenty-ninth.

It was the thirty-first! Wasn’t that Harry’s birthday?

Stealing a glace at the boy, Severus watched as the child was watching the screen intently as the program came back on. Green eyes dance and twinkled in amusement. This was probably one of the best birthdays the boy had ever had, Severus thought sadly. Well, perhaps he would get something for the boy later?

“I think it’s time we retire for this evening,” the professor said when the show was over.

Standing up, stretching, Harry smiled. “Alright. Night, sir.”

Severus only nodded as he stood up. He walked into the kitchen, where the Dursleys were finishing up the dishes. “Upstairs to bed. Now.”

They obeyed and soon Severus found himself alone on the main floor. He had planned on changing one of the couches into a bed to sleep on, but at the moment, he did not feel like sleeping. For some strange reason, he felt like going up the stairs and seeing Harry. Why was that?

After pacing around the house, Severus finally decided that he should go upstairs, just to check and make sure everything was alright.

Coming to the stairs, he steeled himself, and managed to get up the steps with out too much difficulty. He was beginning to become familiar with these steps, making him feel more at easy, but he still hated them. Perhaps he should introduce elevators into the wizarding world?

But once at the top, the wizard glided over to Harry’s door. He paused for a moment, before taking out his wand and locking the Dursleys’ rooms. See how they like it.

Pushing open the door quietly. Severus stepped in, and walked over to the bed. Harry was lying on his side, facing the wall. Again, the Potions Master could not help but see that sleeping baby that had laid on his mother’s chest all those years ago.

Automatically the long fingered hand went and brushed the boy’s soft, raven hair. It felt wonderful, so very much like his mother’s.

Thinking of Lily depressed Severus, so he decided to dwell on what she had left him behind. “Happy birthday, Harry,” he said quietly before he left the room.

In bed, the boy smiled, not being as asleep as his father had thought.

&&&&&&

Outside, in the dead of night, no one noticed a rat that scurried off with a bottle cap in his mouth.