Dungeons, Hogwarts, November 1996 (08)

Draco Malfoy gave Harry Potter the willies. Since sharing his cryptic warning over a month ago the boy displayed an overt and disquieting fascination with Harry and Snape. If Harry hung back in Potions hoping to catch a quick word with the man Draco sometimes lingered as well, drawing out packing his book bag, sorting potions vials, or something else equally useless. And if Snape addressed Harry in the corridor Draco always seemed to be lurking nearby.

Likewise, Harry found himself just as enthralled when he spotted the two Slytherins together. It ate at him that they could indulge in each other's company out in the open while his interactions with the man were restricted to the Room of Requirement or Snape's quarters, like a dirty secret. But he relished the fact that his relationship with Snape was special, that it went beyond the mere Head of House and student. Or so he thought.

Snape scheduled a meeting to mentor Luna's friend, Darvel Macallan on Saturday. He assured Harry that the meeting would be over by 2:30 p.m. so that they could train a bit before dinner. At 2:15 p.m., Harry rounded the corner prepared to wait those last few minutes outside Snape's classroom, but as he drew closer he grew alarmed to hear someone not just crying, but wailing so loudly it could be heard through the thick oak door. He crept close to press his ear to it. He made out Snape's distinctive voice, but its silken tone sounded odd.

Harry gripped the doorknob to push the door open a crack. What he saw took his breath.

Draco Malfoy was enveloped in Snape's arms, sobbing impossibly, his pale hands wound into Snape's robes in desperate clutches. He tried speaking between sobs, but it all came out muffled as his face was pressed against Snape's chest. Not that Harry cared what had upset the boy - no, it was Snape his eyes were drawn to: Despite the man's furious expression, he stroked the back of Draco's head in a feathery, gentle manner, obviously familiar with the touch necessary to soothe the boy.

Bile rose to burn Harry's throat; the air around him grew charged and prickly. He quickly eased the door shut - tempted though he was to blow it off its hinges. 2:15. Snape had cut short his meeting with the Ravenclaw to deal with Malfoy.

Damn crybaby! Why didn't he take his frustration out on some hapless first-year like he normally would? Why was he blubbering all over Snape? And why was Snape comforting him like that?

"There you are!" Hermione's voice rang out, making Harry start. "Have you already - Harry? Are you all right?" She reached to touch his cheek, but he recoiled.

"M' sorry, Hermione," he muttered, glimpsing her hurt expression. "It's not you. It's... I just need to get out of here."

"B-but, what's going on? Did you and the professor have another row? If you did, you need to fix this right now!" She shook free from him to start back toward Snape's classroom.

"No, Hermione, just leave it! Please!"

Harry turned and shot off up the corridor. Perplexed, Hermione stayed put, looking back and forth between Harry's retreating back and Snape's closed door.

*WO

At dinner, Harry silently fashioned Hagrid's hut out of his asparagus and roast beef. Though desperate to escape to his four-poster, he instead focused on his food because a hasty departure would mean more dreaded questions and concern. Ron had already tried to trick him into talking several times, wanting to get at the reason for his melancholy.

Poking at bits of bread with the butt of his knife, he resisted the powerful urge to look up at the High Table. Equally tempted to look over at the Slytherin table, he yielded, knowing that if he made eye contact with Draco he'd likely be expelled. The mere thought of the boy made his jaw tighten, his blood boil.

"Harry?" Ron sounded alarmed. "Uh, c'mon mate, let's... let's get outta here. Here... C'mon... Let. It. Go..."

Harry winced. At Ron's touch, he looked down. Blood dripped steadily onto the table; the strangle-tight grip he had on the business end of his knife had driven its toothy ridges into his flesh. He opened his hand to let the knife drop to the table. He then took the napkin Ron held out to him to wrap around his palm. Hermione watched and gnawed on her bottom lip, her brown eyes, worried.

As they made their way down the aisle, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, and Neville all moved to get up. Ron shook his head. Harry could feel their eyes on him, could feel their concern. Exiting the Hall, he was certain he could feel Snape's eyes on him, too.

*WO

Harry believed in honesty, even believed himself an unusually honest sort, yet an honest reckoning of his feelings after seeing Malfoy in Snape's arms escaped him.

Months ago, Hermione had told him that his feelings for Snape were obvious, that they were on par to how he had felt for Sirius. Harry had scoffed, chalking her words up to her flair for the dramatic, and her desire for him and Snape to make up. But after some thought, he began to find her words troublesome because there was a difference between the two men - an awkward, telling difference: Harry had loved Sirius, and Sirius had loved him; Snape had hated Harry on sight and by virtue of experiences that had nothing to do with Harry, which hardly endeared him to the boy, so Harry hated him right back.

It took little to recall that first Potions class and being called out in front of all his new classmates. Every humiliation that followed was just as easily recalled, so that he could be devastated this way by the man who had gleefully made his life hell over the past five years gave Harry pause. Was it possible to get over being systematically wronged for five years in the space of five months? Had he forgiven Snape?

Harry chewed on that question long and hard figuring that he must have - he and Snape would have never survived the summer otherwise. But it irked him, because Forgiveness seemed to have sorted itself out without any say-so from him. That he had changed, and that his view of Snape had changed was not that surprising, but Time had so seamlessly nurtured the change that Harry couldn't understand why seeing Snape comforting Malfoy made his heart seize up.

Before June, Harry's view of Snape had been fixed: the man was heartless, a sadist who rejoiced in pitting himself against a boy he believed supremely undeserving of the wizarding world's favor. But, Snape had changed, too. No longer Harry's tormentor, the man had metamorphosed, caterpillar-like, forging himself into a new creature: Harry's unlikely, unyielding source of strength. Without Snape Harry knew he could never have properly dealt with the deaths of Cedric, the Dursleys, and Sirius. And without Snape Harry didn't know if he could face what lay ahead. That frightened him.

Harry believed in honesty, and seeing Malfoy in Snape's arms honestly bothered him - so much that it wrought intense concern amongst his friends and Snape.

*WO

Potions Classroom, Dungeons, Hogwarts November 1996 (14)

"Mr. Potter? Please remain so that I may speak with you."

"What's the greasy git want now?" Ron grumbled.

Harry bristled at his tone. "Dunno," he said. "I'll catch up with you two in a bit."

He shouldered his book bag and trudged up to the man's desk, eyes downcast. Snape closed the door with a wave of his hand once Ron and Hermione had gone.

"If not for class, training, and meals, I'd never see you," he said, a long finger resting against his chin.

Harry shrugged.

"Everything is well?"

Another shrug, then, "Yes."

Snape squinted, unconvinced and irritated by Harry's absurd attention to the jar of dried Billywig stingers sitting near the edge of his desk.

"You do realize that should any difficulty arise, I'm willing to listen?"

"...Yes." From the moment Snape had said ‘Mr. Potter', that soothing baritone had made Harry want to confess anything, like a penitent to a clergyman, but he couldn't.

Snape sighed. "Very well... You're free to go." He rose and began to haphazardly stuff the parchments littering his desk into his satchel instead of inserting them methodically as he was wont to do.

Harry watched him, mulling over the man's words. Was Snape really so concerned that he hadn't spent a night in the dungeons in days?

"Sir?"

"Potter." Snape spoke curtly, as if expecting the worst.

"I... I, uh..."

Snape looked up. Meeting Harry's eyes, his jaw lost some of its stiffness. "Come to my quarter's following dinner," he said. "We'll discuss some... modifications to your training."

Harry smiled. "Yes, sir." 

*WO

Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, November 1996 (20)

Snape was more than an hour late for their session. For twenty minutes, Harry paced about the Room of Requirement casting random spells at whatever object struck his fancy. With a lazy sweep of his index finger he directed a length of rope to loop round and round fashioning it into a small Chinese Fireball which he then charmed to soar about the room. He succeeded in making it breathe fire until, naturally, it disintegrated midair. Bored, he lay down on the sofa, a replica of the one in Snape's quarters. He dozed a while, until the door banged open, making him bolt upright.

"Wha'?"

"Potter?" 

"Here... I'm here." Harry rubbed his eyes as Snape swept into the room.

"My apologies. I had to meet with the headmaster concerning one of my students."

"S'everything okay?"

"It remains to be seen." Snape shucked off his outer robe and tossed it over the back of a chair where he sat down. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Should we do this another time?"

"No."

Harry took in Snape's tired posture. "Sir... what happened?"

Snape opened his eyes, regarding Harry quietly for a moment. When the boy crooked an eyebrow, Snape said, "Draco."

"Oh..." Harry said, fighting his lips' urge to curl. "Does it - does it have anything to do with why he was crying in Potions?"

Snape raised his chin. "What do you know of that?"

Harry shrugged guiltily. "I was outside, waiting for you. I thought you were still meeting with that seventh-year, Macallan."

"Ah... Is that why you were upset with me?"

Harry flushed. "I just... I didn't know why Malfoy had come to you, crying."

"I'm his head of House, Potter."

"I know. I just felt... I don't know."

Snape held Harry's gaze for a moment then said. "He may require a great deal more of my attention in the coming weeks... All right?"

Harry swallowed, annoyed at the burst of anxiety this comment raised. "All right," he managed. Then his stomach growled.

Snape hitched an eyebrow and his top lip jumped. "Hungry?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, with a small smile of his own.

*WO

After dinner, Harry lay on Snape's sofa, staring at his stockinged feet as he wriggled his toes. His thoughts spun noisily as he chewed his inner cheek. Snape, sitting in the wing chair near the fire, regarded Harry silently for several moments before speaking.

"Potter?" Harry's eyes swung over to Snape's face. "Say what is on your mind."

Harry no longer found it odd that Snape could divine his moods; the man oftentimes knew something was wrong before he did. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't make the man work for his confidence.

"It's nothin', really," he said, stifling the urge to grin when Snape rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that would explain the woefully distressing look on your face. Speak." Snape put aside the seventh-year essays he was marking.

Harry sat up, clasped his hands between his knees. "Okay, well... It probably sounds stupid, but Hallowe'en felt different to me this year," he said.

"Oh," Snape said stiffly.

"When I was little, it was just a day for my uncle to take Dudley round the neighborhood so that he could collect near enough sweets to open his own sweetshop, but when I turned eleven, Hagrid told me how my parents died, and, well I'd never really associated the day with their deaths ‘til a few weeks ago." When Snape sighed softly, Harry glanced over to find the man looking pale and distressed. "It's nothing morbid or anything," he said quickly. "It's just, for some reason... family's been on my mind a lot lately."

Snape said nothing, so Harry continued.

"Last year," he said, "after Dudley and I were attacked by those Dementors, Aunt Petunia got a Howler, saying ‘remember my last', and instead of chucking me out like Uncle Vernon wanted, she let me stay. At the time, I didn't know what the message meant, but now I know it was from Dumbledore."

Harry ran a hand through his hair making it stick out at even crazier angles; Snape lowered his eyes at the sight.

"He's had a say in most everything to do with me, even me staying with the Dursleys. And though you won't tell me what he said to you that day in his office -"

"Potter -"

Harry held up his hands. "I'm not asking you to tell me what went on. I get that it's your business. Maybe you'll tell me someday, but I know it was something to do with how close we are. And, well, what I'm getting at is, he can still do whatever he wants where I'm concerned and there's not a thing I can do about it. I - Well, Muggle kids can be emancipated from their parents. ‘Course, he's not my parent, but I think I'd feel loads better if I had something legal that said he couldn't interfere in my life."

Snape sat staring at Harry, frozen; Harry suspected a bronze statue couldn't have been more rigid.

"Sir?" he said, concerned.

"That's a rather impressive step to take." Snape managed.

"I know, but can I do it? Is there anything like that in wizarding law?"

Snape shifted a bit in his seat. "I don't know. I imagine I could find out for you... You know the headmaster's of the impression that you and he are getting on better."

"Oh, yeah, we're okay, now, mostly 'cause he's left me alone, but..."

"You fear he'll continue to interfere?"

"Well, not really. I mean, I told him how I felt about... you know, you and training, so I think he knows not to stick his nose in."

"Yet, you would feel better having it in writing?"

Harry nodded and shrugged, suddenly ambivalent about his grand idea of emancipation. Snape had said he would look into it, but he was grilling Harry as if he wanted to discourage him.

"Well..." Snape said, looking suddenly out of sorts himself, "before looking into that, perhaps you'd, ah, consider another option to prevent Dumbledore meddling."

"Like what?"

"Well, it, um, is something that will require a great deal of contemplation... on both our parts."

When Snape stopped speaking, Harry nodded his head, encouraging him to continue.

"...I don't bring this up to leave you with the impression that this is simply about besting the headmaster. I... it is for... deeply personal reasons as well and as I said, it is a lot to consider -"

"Yeah, okay, you're making me nervous!"

"How would you feel about... about..."

Impatient, and on edge because of Snape's odd incoherence, Harry unwittingly slipped into the man's mind. He cried out and grabbed his head, collapsing forward over his knees as vivid images flashed across his vision - a kaleidoscopic slide-show of his life over the past few months.

He saw the cratered, uneven valley of Soth-ince, the rectangular red door of the cottage, and then himself collapsing and Snape sweeping him into his arms; he saw himself lying on the oversized sofa in the cottage's sitting room, his head in Snape's lap as the man lightly caressed his face and whispered ‘Hush' and ‘Go to sleep, Harry'; he saw a tall, blond teen, laughing with Hermione amidst a riot of colors, sounds, smells, and warmth; in Fred and George's tiny office he saw the top of that same shaggy, blond head being cradled against a broad, brown-shirted chest; in Dumbledore's office he saw himself pleading and then angry; he saw himself in his four-poster, having his robe, tie, shoes and glasses removed before being covered and petted. And before Snape severed the connection, Harry saw himself boneless in the man's arms beneath the spray of the hospital ward's showers as he was bathed, then dried, dressed, and put to bed.

As the image of him lying curled up around his and Snape's linked hands faded, Harry hung his head, thunderstruck, not just by the images, but also by the brilliant spectrum of Snape's emotions as the scenes flowed fluidly one into the next. Anger and exasperation were no surprise, but the deepening affection that echoed in every glance, touch, and admonishment was so acute, Harry could only liken it to love.

"POTTER!" Snape's chest was heaving and his dark eyes were wide, mortified.

"I... It was you..." Harry stammered. "I always thought Madam Pomfrey... God! You really took care of me, didn't you?" Harry raised his head to look at Snape, green eyes rounded with awe and disbelief. The most he had hoped for since journeying to Cornwall had been a Snape-like tolerance, not this. Before he could stop it, his lips began to twitch.

"Potter..." Snape's tone was deep, dangerous.

Despite the threat, the twitching tilted up into a grin and Harry's eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "After what I just saw, couldn't you call me ‘Harry'?"

Snape folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes to menacing slits. "I think that should that highly obnoxious smirk remain on your face, I shall happily refrain from sharing with you my suggestion."

"It's not a smirk, it's a grin," Harry said, grin broadening until he was beaming. He crossed his arms over his chest mimicking Snape. "As for the other, I think you'll tell me..."

Snape glared at him, suspicious. "Pray tell, why do you think that?"

"Because if it's a way to keep me out from under Dumbledore's thumb, I'm all ears."

Snape snorted. "Hardly, more like all knobbly limbs, glasses, and... hair." He made a rueful gesture at Harry's head.

"You're one to talk!" Harry said, feigning insult. "I'm hardly knobbly compared to you, stalking about on those rail thin chicken legs, and your hair..."

"Yes?" Snape growled ominously.

Harry cocked his head to the side, eyeing Snape's shoulder-length locks thoughtfully. "Well, it's not greasy at all, is it? It's just... really, really shiny... My hair's as black as yours, why isn't mine as shiny? If it's some potion you made, you need to patent it, maybe have Fred and -"

"I see now that my suggestion is best kept to myself." Snape crossed his legs.

"What?! Why?"

"You'll likely not want to do it anyway." Snape mumbled.

"It's kinda hard to make a decision when I don't know what I'm making a decision about?"

"...Very well." Snape began drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair. "As I said, I've considered this for some time and, I've concluded that the best way to forgo Albus' decisions concerning you is... if I become your guardian."

Harry blinked. "Guardian?"

"Yes," said Snape. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if regretting opening his mouth.

"Like the Dursleys?"

Snape scowled. "I'll forgive the offence, owing to the fact that this is a rather unorthodox proposal."

Harry laughed. "I'm not saying you're like them! I just mean... would I have to live with you?"

"It would not be required while here at the castle, but it would not be... unwelcome."

Harry's green eyes lit up with smug humor.

"Oh Merlin! Stop that!"

"All right..." Harry said, smiling. "So, what happens next?"

Snape's brows knitted together in a confused frown. "Wouldn't you like to give it a good deal more thought than the rash two seconds you've taken to consider it? Perhaps even talk it over with your frie -?"

"No."

"Potter..."

"Harry."

"Pot -"

"Harry."

Snape sighed. "Look, do not decide now. Take a few days and then let me know your answer."

"Okay..." Harry shrugged, "even though I've made up my mind."

"Potter!" Snape growled.

"Fine!" Harry laughed. "I'll think about it." He took a breath, suddenly serious. "I do have one thing, though."

Snape uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "Go on."

"I think I understand why you acted the way you did after that meeting with Dumbledore. He told me that he hadn't expected us to become so close, but, sir, if we're going to do this adoption thing, don't - don't do anything like that again. I couldn't take it."

Snape's black eyes flashed and he nodded stiffly. A sudden warped chiming sound made them jump; Harry's watch. It hadn't been the same since Fang used it as a chew toy at Soth-ince.

"I gotta go! I have a revising session with Hermione."

"Indeed?"

Harry blushed at Snape's tone. "Neville and Ron'll be there, too. We have a presentation in Herbology." He shoved his feet into his shoes and snatched up his robe and book bag before turning to rush out of the room. 

"Potter!"

Harry grabbed the door jamb to stop and spin back around. "Yeah?"

"Your scarf," said Snape, coming toward Harry. He wound the red and gold material around Harry's neck then tucked it in securely.

Harry reddened and grinned crookedly up at the man. "Thank you, sir."

*WO

Greenhouse 3, Hogwarts, November 1996 (21)

"You're absolutely mad! You know that don't you?" Ron yelled for the fifth time, clearly dissatisfied that the first four rants did not take.

"I know what I'm doing, Ron!" Harry yelled back. "And stop calling me ‘mad'!"

"B-but... adoption?" Ron looked horrified. "You're going to let Snape adopt you? What would your parents say? What would Sirius say?"

"Ron!"

"Ron, you're bang out of order!"

"Don't tell me you've thought this through, mate," Ron said, ignoring Hermione and Neville's outbursts. "D'you honestly think they'd be okay with Snape adopting you?"

In that moment, Harry realized Ron would never understand why he wanted this. He couldn't pinpoint the moment things changed, when his and Snape's time together stopped being solely about managing his magic or steering clear of the Ministry, but it didn't matter. He had witnessed Snape on the cusp of death, had then watched him struggle to heal and succeed with a force of will Harry could not help but admire. Then, of course, there was the laundry list of things Snape had done to heal Harry of a wound he hadn't even realized had been so raw. And those memories, all those wondrous, dear memories he'd just seen...

"Unfortunately, they're not here to tell me their feelings on the matter," Harry told Ron coldly. "If they were, there'd be nothing to consider, would there?" He ripped off his dragonhide gloves and threw them to the ground. "Some of us don't have the luxury of debating parental choices for those without."

Ron's freckles made his skin look even more mottled than normal as he paled. "Harry, mate, I didn't -"

"If you can't deal with this, Ron... that's too bad." Harry grabbed his things and stalked out of the greenhouse, never stopping until he reached Snape's quarters.

*WO

The Black Lake, Hogwarts, December 1996 (01)

November had scarcely faded before the castle was awash in Christmas cheer. Courtesy of McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Charlie, extravagant Christmas decorations greeted the castle's inhabitants at nearly every turn. Resembling iced gingerbread trees, massive snow-covered evergreens topped with singing faeries lined the ground floor corridors. Harry found their woodsy aroma divine and often wandered about with his eyes closed and his nose in the air, breathing in their scent.

He also spent a good deal of time lakeside as his dorm was a tense place to be these days. He resisted spending extra time in Snape's quarters, though, not keen for the man to know of the rift between him and Ron. He had already sidestepped an explanation when Snape asked why he and Ron were at separate desks in Potions. Despite how close he and the man had become, Harry didn't feel comfortable speaking ill of Ron. In that same spirit, after their flap at the beginning of term, Harry decided that if another problem ever arose between him and Snape, he would not mention it to Ron.

With the boys not speaking, Hermione tried to split her time diplomatically between them, but she most often ended up in Harry's company. Ron had been in the midst of breaking up with Lavender Brown all week. Harry knew Hermione's feelings on that so he was not surprised to hear footsteps crunching the chilled grass behind him.

"Hi," Hermione said.

Harry held out his hand to help her down to the ground. "It's too cold out here. I was just about to come inside."

"You may want to wait a while longer. Lavender and Ron are having it out... She's none too pleased." Hermione drew her knees to her chest and linked her arms around them.

"Yeah? D'you think this is it?" Harry reached out to touch the edge of her cloak. She shivered as the warmth from his heating charm washed over her.

"Ugh! I certainly hope so!" She said with another shiver, though not from the charm. The whole House had been stunned by the Ron and Lavender coupling soon after Gryffindor's defeat of Hufflepuff, and equally annoyed by the high-octane soap opera the two played out each day.

Hermione learned to tolerate Lavender early on because, despite her disapproval, Ron was determined to continue dating the girl. It was only when Lavender made a snide comment about Harry's brooding and Ron's attentions to him that Hermione dropped all pretence of acceptance. Ron and Lavender had rowed long and loud once he discovered why Hermione was so angry, but as usual, he had fallen prey to Lavender's charms, allowing her to sweet talk him back into the relationship.

"Ron, okay?"

"I suppose..." Hermione said. "I don't know why he took up with her, especially when Luna... Nevermind. It's none of my affair, really. I've told him time and time again what I thought and he chooses not to listen."

After a long moment of silence, she realized Harry had tuned her out as well. She sighed. "Harry, you can't mind what Ron has to say about you and Snape."

Harry snorted. "He acts like it affects him directly, or Iike I'm doing it to tick him off."

"It's hard for him... He feels like he's losing you."

"Hard for him? He's pissing on my decision, Hermione! It's like he doesn't want me to be happy!"

"Oh, that's not true! He just - he doesn't quite know how to reconcile the Snape you've come to know with the Snape he's known since our first-year. He doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Hurt? Snape would never hurt me!"

"Of course he wouldn't, but I think Ron's blinded by the fact that he has to share you now, and with Snape, of all people. Really, think about it from his end, Harry. You two have hated the professor since your first day here and now you're going to be Snape's charge."

"I know, but the professor and I have moved on, why can't Ron?" Harry slumped back against the tree and began to dig his heel into the grass, freeing clumps of frozen earth. "He's been surrounded by family all his life. He'll never understand what this means to me."

"Oh, Harry, he will." Hermione nudged him gently with her shoulder. "He just needs time to adjust, then things will be fine... When he's not pawing all over Lavender, he misses you." Harry hitched his eyebrows. "Honestly!" Hermione insisted. "I can't tell you the number of times we've been sat in the common room and he'll be talking to Seamus or Dean about Quidditch, or something equally obnoxious, and he'll call them by your name," she said. "He's done it to me as well... Bit annoying actually."

Harry chuckled at the perturbed look on her face. "Maybe he and Dumbledore can start a ‘Snape adopting Harry is stupid' club."

"Oh... Still?"

"Yeah, he says I'm free to do as I wish, but that he can't support my decision. And please don't say anything about his ‘reasons.'"

"I wasn't going to. I think he's wrong. I can't imagine any reason to deny you this."

"I can't either."

*WO

Snape's Quarters, Hogwarts, December 1996 (08)

Buoyed by the spirit of the holiday season, and Hermione's ‘encouragement' for them to make things up before leaving the castle for the break, Harry and Ron sat down to hash out their differences.

"Whatever you want to do, mate," Ron said, worn out from a week of non-stop rowing with Lavender. "I'll support it just as long as we don't have to make this whole thing into a... thing, yeah?"

Not wanting to draw things out anymore than Ron did, Harry shrugged. They had then shaken hands - friendship mended. Harry could have laughed at the disappointed look on Hermione's face, who had been, he was sure, expecting a touch more drama, possibly infused with a few tears, but he knew better; he liked having a pustule-free face.

A few days later he invited Hermione and Ron to visit him in Snape's quarters, hoping to get them (Ron) used to spending time there. Snape had made it clear that Harry didn't have to live in the dungeons, but Harry looked forward to moving out of Gryffindor Tower once the adoption was finalized.

After issuing his invitation, Harry left the Tower happy, though surprised at how readily Ron had agreed to come. Hermione's influence was written all over that decision. Before heading to the dungeons, he made a pit-stop. An hour later he arrived at Snape's quarters, eased the door open and, for a change, closed it quietly. He was about to call out to Snape when he heard the man speak.

"Albus, I will tell Potter when the time is right!"

"Tell me what?"

Snape and Dumbledore looked to nearly jump out of their skins when Harry rounded the corner into the sitting room. He chucked his book bag onto the floor then shrugged out of his robes, tossing them over the arm of the sofa. Snape's eyes went wide as he scrambled for an answer.

"The a-adoption..."

Harry's face lit up. He looked to Dumbledore. "So you're going to help us, Professor?"

"No, no, Harry. I am sorry," Dumbledore said, seeming genuinely regretful.

"But, why not?" Harry frowned. "We both want it. What's the big deal?"

"I have my reasons. Severus is aware of them. If you wish to know what they are, ask him." Dumbledore patted Harry's shoulder then nodded at Snape on his way out.

"What're his ‘reasons'?" Harry said, annoyed. "The way he talks sometimes!"

"It doesn't matter, Potter." Snape ran a hand through his hair. "I'll just have to find a way to do this on my own." Then he looked at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. The boy's cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright with mischief. He also had Lily's medallion in his hand.

"What's happened?"

"What do you mean?" Harry plopped down onto the sofa.

"Why does your expression resemble the Weasley twins' when they are up to something? ...Or have done something?"

"I haven't done anything! Really!" Harry laughed at Snape's disbelieving scowl. "Well... I kinda went to the Hog's Head." Snape's brows skyrocketed. "I used the tunnels and my Cloak!" Harry added quickly, hoping to temper the storm forming on the man's face.

"We have discussed the dangers of you leaving the castle and of using that Cloak to do so! I forbid -"

"I know, I know! I'm sorry, but, Aberforth gave me a clue about my mum's medallion." Harry interrupted eagerly.

"Indeed?" Snape said, wary, anger flown.

"Indeed."

"Stop mocking me."

"Certainly."

"Insufferable brat." Snape scowled at Harry's grin then swallowed. "What did he tell you?"

"Well, he's as cagey as the headmaster when you ask him something... Anyway, he told me that books don't always have the answers, that I should look to someone close to me because they might."

"Ind - Did he?"

"Yeah, but I still stopped by the library before coming home." Looking down to pull an old Ancient Runes text out of his book bag, Harry missed Snape's surprised look. "I wanted to find out what my mum's symbol meant, and since Hermione refused to tell me..." He sounded put out.

"How extraordinarily wise of her."

Harry fired off a half-hearted scowl. "I know that the positive aspects of it are," he picked up a sheet of parchment upon which he had scrawled his notes, "a healing power of renewal and some other stuff, but this tiny mark here in the crook of her symbol..." With Lily's medallion in hand Harry went to Snape. Using his blunt thumbnail, he pointed out his discovery. "See? It looks like a lightning bolt?"

When Snape grunted in acknowledgment, Harry pulled up the other wing chair to sit before the man.

"I'd never really paid any attention to it until I saw it in that book. It says it represents the letter ‘s.'" Harry took a breath. "You gave this to her, didn't you?"

Snape's attention to Lily's medallion had always struck Harry as strange. If he happened to have it in hand, rubbing it for comfort, or just mindlessly swinging it about, Snape was always watching. And judging the man's reaction, his interest was not simple curiosity; he looked at the medallion with a longing reserved for the familiar. Harry could have kicked himself for not connecting the dots sooner.

When Snape said nothing, Harry said, "You can tell me, you know. Who knows, maybe I can use it to off Voldemort."

Snape's expression hardened in an instant. "That's not funny."

Harry swallowed. "Sorry... But, did you - did you give it to her?"

Snape sighed, knowing Harry would dog him until he got an answer. "Yes, I gave it to her."

"Really?! When?"

"Christmas, fifth-year."

"Blimey... Did she like it?" Harry watched Snape, hungry for any scrap of information.

Snape passed a hand over eyes and shook his hair back from his face. "I imagine she did... She kept it."

"So, you two were friends?"

"For a time."

"Is that why you and my fath -" 

A knock at the door cut Harry off.

"Bollocks!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I invited Ron and Hermione down."

"I see," Snape said. When Harry kept looking at him, Snape hitched an eyebrow. "You plan to keep them waiting as what, a testament to your hosting skills?"

Harry rolled his eyes and got up. "'You plan to keep them waiting?'" He mimicked then fled the room as a charmed pillow connected with the back of his head. Laughing, he yanked the door open. Ron and Hermione gave him a curious look taking in his grinning face and breathless greeting.

"Hi!"

"What's goin' on?" Ron said as he strolled in after Hermione.

"Nothing, much... Just teasin' the professor."

"I heard that." Snape drawled as he rounded the corner, eyebrow askew.

"Good evening, Professor," said Hermione, smiling brightly.

After a quick jab to the ribs, Ron grunted. "Professor." 

Snape nodded a terse greeting and then asked Harry, "Will you be returning to the Tower tonight?"

"No, I'm staying here... if you don't mind," Harry said.

"You know I don't mind," Snape said, eliciting a grin from Harry. "I'll be in the lab should you need anything." He nodded curtly at Ron and Hermione and started away.

"C'mon, let's go sit," Harry said, closing the door.

"Why not come back to the Tower tonight, mate?" Ron asked as they entered the sitting room. He looked around, assessing the space. Judging from his surprise, he had clearly expected black, water-slick walls, forgotten piles of bleached bones, roosting bats, shackles, and the like.

"I have some things I need help doing," Harry said.

"Homework stuff? Why not ask Hermione about it?" Ron said, flopping into the chair by the fire. "We've hardly seen you at all this week."

"Ron, he's got rather a lot to be going on with, you know," Hermione said, settling on the sofa. Harry went to sit beside her.

"Well, the adoption is still dragging on, but it's not just that... I found out something about my mum." He uttered a nervous, little laugh.

"From Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "What does he know about her?"

"He just told me that they were friends here at school."

"No!" Hermione whispered. "Were they ever more than that?"

"Dunno, but the medallion? He gave it to her fifth-year." Harry held the silver disc out for Hermione to see. She took it to get a closer look. He pointed to Snape's symbol. "Like my mum's, it represents the first letter of his name."

"So, what happened?" Ron said, slouched in his chair. "They surely didn't stay friends once he became a bleedin' Death Eater, did they?"

Feeling protective of his mother and Snape, Harry said, "My parents got together seventh-year is what happened."

Hermione stopped examining the medallion to look up. Harry's face had tightened, and Ron was doing a poor job of trying to temper his vague look of disgust.

"So, um, Harry, what are your plans for Christmas?" She asked, aiming for a cheerful topic.

"He's comin' to the Burrow," Ron said, as if the question was ridiculous.

Harry frowned. "Actually, I'm staying here."

"Come off it, mate, why in bloody hell d'you want to stay here?"

"The professor is here."

"So?" Ron shrugged.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Are you really that dense or just that unfeeling?"

"What? Why'd he rather stay here with Snake, than be with us at Christmas?"

"Ron, Harry and Professor Snape are -"

"No, Hermione," said Harry, holding out his hand to silence her. His green eyes sparked intensely as he focused on Ron. "Ron, you're my best mate, but you need to stop with the insulting comments."

Stunned by Harry's cold tone, Ron's mouth worked as he tried to come up with a response. "I... I didn't mean it like..."

"Yes, you did." Harry could see Ron tossing over what to say next. He was likely considering the fact of their newly mended friendship, but Harry recognized the stubborn set of Ron's jaw that he got only when he was about to say something out of order.

"Well," Ron blurted, "so what? You spend every waking moment with him like he's your new best mate or something! And this adoption thing? Everybody thinks it's a bloody joke!"

"Everybody or just you? Because I've yet to hear a word of complaint from anybody except you!" Harry snarled, rising to his feet. Ron followed, his features set in a hard scowl.

"Stop it!" Hermione jumped up to stand between them.

"What is going on in here?" Snape's furious tone sliced through the air.

"Nothing..." Harry replied heatedly. "Ron's just leaving, is all."

From the corner of his eye, Harry glimpsed Snape's surprise and his eyes narrow as he took in the crimson-faced redhead perched angrily over him.

"Mr. Weasley," he said. "Sit down."

"No," said Harry, "let him go." His lip curled as he looked up at Ron.

"Sit. Down," repeated Snape. "All of you - now!"

Eyeing each other like duelers, Ron and Harry slowly returned to their seats. Hermione huffed past them to resume her spot as well.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Snape said, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes skipped from angry face to angry face, but no one responded. "Fine," he said silkily. "That's 200 points from Gryffindor... each."

"No!" Ron roared, whirling in his seat to face Snape, while Harry and Hermione gaped at him in horror and disbelief.

"Then answer my question, Mr. Weasley!"

Ron instantly reddened at the request.

"Yeah, Ron," said Harry. "Go ahead, tell him what -" He fell silent at a sharp glare from Snape.

"Hermione asked Harry what his plans were for the hols," Ron said, gritting his teeth.

"Indeed?" Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose, already weary of the teenage melodrama being played out. "Why would that warrant a shouting match in my quarters?"

"I didn't think it did," Ron said, "especially as I'm just trying to look out for him."

"Why, exactly does Potter need looking out for?" Snape asked, genuinely curious.

"I think he needs to be around family during Christmas," Ron said.

"Ron, you're being ridiculous!" Hermione said, stunned by the ugly look gracing her friend's face.

"Ah, well," Snape said, "if indeed I cared to allay whatever misguided notions you have regarding Potter's plans for the holidays, I still would not, as it is family business, thus, none of yours, Mr. Weasley."

Harry would have laughed at the bewildered expression on Ron's face, but he didn't dare. As angry as he was, he understood that Ron was still grappling with the change in his relationship with Snape, but it irked him that his best friend had given scant effort to understand its importance to him.

"Fine," said Ron, the word no more than a low grunt. "You do what you want," he said, directing his words to Harry.

"I always do," Harry replied. 

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes. He got to his feet and said, "I'm leaving."

Hermione looked up at him and then at Harry, clearly at a loss. "It's okay," Harry said. "Go with him."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah..."

Hermione sighed and gave his hand a squeeze. Before getting to her feet, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and whispered: "I'll talk to him. It'll be fine."

Ron was already half-way to the door, rudely ignoring Snape on his way out. Embarrassed, Hermione turned to Snape. "I'm really sorry, Professor, for... everything. Good night."

At the sound of the door closing, Snape took the chair Ron had just vacated.

"I wish Ron would stop being a prat!" Harry said. He threw himself back against the sofa, flinging his arms across his chest.

"What do you intend to do about it?"

"Do? Ron's the one with the problem!" Furious, Harry raised his eyes to look at Snape, but the man's calm expression was contagious. Harry exhaled loudly and released his arms, relaxing. "I don't know. I thought we'd settled things... I can't believe he doesn't understand what this means to me!"

"It has been my experience that those born into abundance often fail to appreciate the lot of those who are not."

"But, Ron's not rich!"

"There are different types of abundance, Potter. "Mr. Weasley was born into a large family with siblings anchored by both parents."

"Oh, yeah, well, for Ron, all those brothers isn't that great a selling point," Harry muttered.

"Potter, my point -"

"No... I get it, I do." Harry ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "I just really thought he'd accept things, for my sake."

"To do that, he'd be forced to accept me as well. Judging from his attitude, he's not ready for that."

"Well, that's too bad!" Harry fumed. "Because you're my family now! Er... you will be, soon..." He looked up to find Snape regarding him, a bemused look on his face. Harry blushed, self-conscious. "What? Did I say something... wrong?"

"No," Snape said, his voice strangely husky. "It's... Hearing you say that, I was simply taken by surprise."

"Why? You just told Ron the same thing."

"Yes but I was angry at his insinuation that you'd be better off spending the holidays with his family... yet I momentarily wondered if he had a point."

"What!?"

"Potter," Snape said, raising his hands, "we are new to this and I did wonder if you mightn't feel more comfort -"

"I can't believe you're saying that! You took care of me last summer! You trained me; you fought with me and for me... You're about to adopt me, and you wonder if I wouldn't feel better about spending Christmas with someone else's family?"

Snape sat dumbstruck, wondering when had he become the one in need of reassurance?