Things were much improved in the Snape household after Lily had resolved her differences with Severus. Severus went back to sharing a room and a bed with his beloved apothecary, and Lily agreed to have some sessions with a Mind Healer, Madge Holland, to reassure her that Medea's mind control had left no lasting harm upon her psyche. She also attended hour long sessions with a group of witches and wizards for stress and anger management on Fridays. Severus joined her on those days, for he felt he needed some tips on managing his temper also, and it showed support for Lily.

Lily tried to be more patient and attentive to both her spouse and children, spending more time reading and playing small games with them in the evenings after work, doing puzzles and logic games with Eric, who enjoyed quiet games and brain teasers best of all, let's-pretend and dress-up with Rosie and her dolls, and helping Harry with his homework and then playing Wizard Chess with him.

She found that doing these small activities with her children relaxed her just as much as reading her subscription to Magickal Medicina, the apothecary journal, or dozing on the couch. Once she and Severus put the kids to bed, she would often indulge herself in a long hot soak, filling the tub with tangerine and cinnamon scented bath beads and just lying there in the water. On occasion, Severus would come in and give her shoulders and neck a rubdown, and such activity would inevitably lead to him joining her in the water, so she could give him the same treatment. Usually the massaging would turn into something much more intimate and steamy, leaving both of them contented and pleasantly weary. Lily thanked Merlin for her good friend Cissy and also for Remus, who had helped Severus. She even was grateful to James, for he had finally matured enough to apologize to her for his callus treatment of her during the years of their marriage, and with that apology had enabled her to heal from old wounds.

Severus was thrilled to have the new improved Lily back in his life, and expressed his joy in quiet smiles and gestures when in public, then indulged in hugs and kisses in private. Rosie, Harry, and Eric were happy to have their old mum back, and soon stopped going about with frowns and distress upon their faces, returning to their normal affectionate and mischievous selves.

Three weeks after the resolution had occurred, James asked Harry if he would like to come and stay at Potter Manor for the weekend again. Though it was his right, according to the custody agreement, to have Harry every other weekend, he had forgone his visit last weekend because Harry was so upset over Lily and Severus quarreling. Harry had told him privately that he didn't want to leave his mum and da alone because they might divorce, and James had shown both compassion and understanding by letting Harry remain at the Snape residence. It was something he never would have done a year previously. But he had learned how to put others first from Tom, and he had discovered that Harry's happiness now meant more to him than his own.

James had managed to finagle tickets to one of the most sought after shows in the wizarding world, the Night Flyers exhibition. The Night Flyers were a team of retired Quidditch pros who did acrobatics and aerials on their brooms in a series of amazing stunts, all done at night under the blaze of magical spotlights. Since their first opening show, about four months previous, they had become an overnight sensation, and James had managed to get tickets because he knew one of the players and was the Flying Instructor at Hogwarts. So he had invited Sirius to come to the show on Friday night, and Tildy as well, because she was his observer, and he liked her company besides. He was sure they all would have a blast.

Harry was very excited, since none of the Lupins or his siblings had ever been to a Night Flyers exhibition. He would be the first, and he couldn't wait to see it. He arrived by Floo about an hour before the show was scheduled at Potter Manor and kept James occupied asking him all kinds of questions about the Night Flyers, most of which James had told him to wait and see about, since he didn't know much, having never seen them himself.

The evening was a grand success, the show was amazing, some of the things the Night Flyers could do on a broom were simply incredible, especially considering they used very little magic to perform their stunts. Harry was in awe of them and announced to James during the intermission that he wanted to be a Night Flyer when he grew up.

James tousled his hair and chuckled. "Well, Harry, that takes a lot of practice and hard work. And didn't you tell me a week ago that you wanted to be an apothecary like your mum and Severus?"

"Yeah, but that's kinda boring now," Harry shrugged. "I wanna do handstands and flips off my broom like Amazing Andrew and Death Defying Derek."

"I guess I can see why," James said, recalling how he had wanted to go and join a travelling gypsy circus at Harry's age. "But you have a long time before you decide what you want to be when you grow up, buddy."

"I know, Dad. I'm not worried about it. Can I have some more popcorn? And pumpkin juice?"

"Sure," James flagged down a floating refreshment stand.

"That's so cute," Tildy remarked to James as Harry was eating his popcorn, her voice practically in his ear so Harry wouldn't be embarrassed. "You're doing a great job with him so far, James. He really enjoys spending time with you. All you have to do is remain consistent about the schedule you and the Snape's set and you'll be fine."

"Right. Although his bedtime is going to be a little later tonight," James said, since the show didn't let out until almost ten, and Harry's bedtime was usually at nine.

"That's all right. It's a special occasion so Harry can stay up later." Tildy said.

By the time they Flooed back to the manor, Harry was half-asleep in James' arms, probably dreaming of flying high and doing handstands on his broom. James Switched his clothes for pajamas and tucked him in bed, then went to take a shower and go to sleep. Sirius was staying over, though Tildy went home, saying she would be back tomorrow, as it wouldn't be proper for her to stay overnight with two unmarried men.

James let Harry sleep in the next morning, and he himself didn't arise until ten. Harry woke full of energy and was practically bouncing in his chair while eating breakfast. Today was pancakes and sausage, Blink served them efficiently. Harry chattered nonstop about the Night Flyers to Sirius and James while they drank their coffee, clearly enamored over the whole thing. Tildy arrived just after Blink had cleared away the plates, in time to hear Harry ask if they could all go flying.

"Yes, but you're not to try any of those stunts you saw last night," James said firmly. "You could fall and break your arm, clear?"

"Okay, Dad." Harry agreed, thinking that James sounded like Severus right then.

The adults went to fetch their brooms and coats, scarves and gloves, while Harry waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot. He glanced at Tildy and asked, "Aren't you going flying with us, Tildy?"

"Not this time, Harry. I need to stay and observe you on the ground. Plus, I don't have a broom," the social worker told him. She enjoyed flying, but knew it would not be approved to fly with her client while she was on duty. So she watched from the picnic bench in the yard while Sirius, James, and Harry flew.

Sirius knew a few fancy moves, and he delighted in racing Harry and James around the yard, going between and back and forth to various trees. He could perform complex loops in the air and breathtaking halts, but told Harry he couldn't teach him those moves until he was school age.

"Aw, Uncle Siri, how come?" Harry groused, put out. "I'm not a baby, y'know."

"Sorry, pal. Your dad and Severus made me promise," said Sirius regretfully.

"Don't sulk, little Snitch," James said. "You have time to learn everything me and Uncle Sirius can do on a broom. You have to be taller and stronger before you can learn those maneuvers. Now come on, I'll race you to that poplar tree over there!" He indicated a tall tree about twenty yards from the house.

When Harry began to get tired, James and Sirius decided to call a halt to their fun, and they all trooped inside, where Blink had lunch waiting in the dining room. There was roast beef and cheese sandwiches with horseradish mayo, creamy beef and mushroom soup, and raspberry filled shortbread tarts for a sweet. Harry had milk and Sirius, James, and Tildy a mild honey mead.

Afterwards, Harry was tired and took a long nap without being told.

James helped him brew an elementary potion in his lab, but then it was bathtime and bed, only Harry wasn't tired. He kept recalling how the Night Flyers had done all these terrific stunts, and his longing to try some himself grew. He was sure he could master one of them if only he were allowed to try. He thought it monstrously unfair that neither James nor Sirius would teach him, or let him try himself. He knew that Severus certainly wouldn't, so waiting until he was at Diagon Alley to try was futile.

No, he needed to practice here, at the manor, where he could show his dad and Sirius how brave and skillful he was. If he was going to be a Night Flyer someday he would need to get a head start on practicing. And the only time he could practice was at night. Harry knew what he was about to do was wrong, but he didn't care. James, as both an adult and a child, had done plenty of crazy and dangerous things. Harry was sure he could at least stand up on his broom and not fall. He was also sure that when his dad and Sirius saw how good he was, they would laugh and not punish him for disobeying them. They had always laughed before when he did things that would have been major trouble with Severus or Lily had he tried them at home.

So he waited until he couldn't hear any more noise from downstairs before picking up his broom and sneaking down the back stairs, the servant entrance, if the Potters had ever had human servants (which they had once upon a time).

Harry picked out a nice patch of ground, soft with mulch, it was going to be a garden when James had time to plant one, and he set his broom down. He knew he would need more cushioning in case he fell, so he fetched several large cushions off the back porch furniture and piled them up on top of the mulch. There! That would be a soft landing.

Then he mounted his broom, and made it hover about ten feet. He carefully brought his left leg up until he was kneeling on one knee. Then he brought his right knee up. It felt a little weird, kneeling this way on the broom, but Harry balanced with his arms out and felt confident he could manage to stand. Very slowly, he put his left foot back flat against the broomstick and shifted his weight back. Then he cautiously straightened his leg, standing up halfway and bringing his right foot behind him and slowly straightening that as well. He was bent at the knees, but still standing on the broom.

Grinning, he stood up tall, arms out to either side for balance.

He had done it! He was standing on his broom!

Of course, the broom wasn't flying like the one the Night Flyers used, but it was a start.

Harry carefully sat down, and then did the same thing all over again.

Five times he practiced standing on the broom, each time growing more confident.

Page~*~*~*~Break

"Well, I'm for bed," James declared, yawning. He glanced at the clock on the mantle, it was almost eleven. "I promised Harry we'd have a picnic tomorrow, if the weather was good, so I'd better get some sleep now." He stood up, only then noticing that the curtains covering the window which faced the backyard were glowing slightly. James frowned. "Siri, did you leave the lights on the porch outside?"

"No, I don't think so, Prongs," Sirius shook his head, smothering a yawn as well. "Why?"

"Because now they're on," James muttered.

"Uh, maybe I forgot," Sirius said sheepishly.

"No big deal, Padfoot." James said. "I'll just go turn them off." He headed out of the den to the backdoor. It was when he opened the door to shut off the lights that had mysteriously turned themselves on that he saw Harry, hovering on his broom in the moonlight, standing up in midair. The boy was clearly illuminated against the clear sky speckled with stars by the porch light.

James felt his heart do a complete somersault. For an instant he felt panic clutch him, recalling Harry's accident on Buckbeak when he was six. "Harry! Great Merlin, what d'you think you're doing?" he shouted. The insolent scamp had the nerve to turn and wave at him before calling, "Hiya, Dad! Look what I can do! Just like a Night Flyer." The boy was grinning as if he hadn't just caused James' heart to come out of his chest.

When James could breathe again, he came down the steps and stood about two feet from his son, who was still grandstanding like some Quidditch superstar. "Harry James Potter, you nearly gave me a heart attack. You come down off that broom this instant!"

"Dad, aren't I awesome?" Harry asked cheekily, still with devil-may-care gleam in his eyes.

"Harry, do as I say!" James snapped. His heart was still pounding. "Right now, young man."

Harry pouted, wondering why his dad wasn't cheering or something.

"Hey, what's going on out here, James?" called Sirius from the porch.

"Uncle Sirius, look at me!" Harry called excitedly. "I'm standing up on my broom like the Night Flyers."

Sirius' eyebrows went up. "Holy Merlin's hat, kid! Where did you learn to do that?"

"I just taught myself tonight," Harry said, happy that at least Sirius was reacting the way he was supposed to.

"Never mind where or how he learnt it, Sirius," James said, giving his best friend a reproving glance. "Harry, you come down from there, I mean it."

"Fine, Dad. I'm coming," Harry said, sounding annoyed and sulky and not at all repentant. He sat down on his broom and then flew down to the ground.

James ran to him and hugged him. "Harry, don't even scare me like that again!"

Harry wriggled a bit in his father's embrace. "Why were you scared, Dad? I had cushions and everything just in case." He pointed at the pile of cushions.

James looked at the cushions, looked at his son, who still didn't seem to think he'd done anything wrong, and groaned. He waved his wand at the cushions and they all flew back to their proper chair on the porch. Then he took Harry by the shoulder and marched inside. "Harry, we need to have a talk, son."

Harry looked up at James uncertainly. This was not how things were supposed to go. James was supposed to have been amused and proud not . . . not all frowning and stern, like his da would have been. "See, Dad, I told you I could do it," he boasted, trying to get James to acknowledge his achievement. "I'll bet that I could be the youngest Night Flyer ever."

"Sit down," James ordered, pointing to the couch.

Harry sat. "Dad? Are you mad at me?"

James coughed. "Yes, I'm mad . . . and I'm surprised at you too," he lectured. "Didn't I tell you not to try any of those stunts yourself? You were supposed to be in bed, asleep! And then I find you outside, alone, trying some trick like that. You might have fallen and broken your neck."

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "Dad, I had cushions down! And I was careful, you saw!"

"I saw you risking your neck when I told you not to, is what I saw," James said, beginning to get angry at his son's intransigence. "Do you know what would have happened if you'd got hurt again while I was watching you? The Wizarding Child Services would declare me an unfit parent and not let you stay with me anymore."

Harry's eyes widened. "But that's stupid. You didn't tell me to fly my broom."

"That doesn't matter. I'm responsible for you," James said. He fixed Harry with a stern look reminiscent of Headmaster Tom. "Now, I know you know what you did was wrong, Harry. Sneaking out of the house at night, going flying without my permission, and doing stunts on your broom without adult supervision. You deliberately disobeyed me, and now I'm going to have to punish you."

Harry gaped at him. James had never, as far back as he could remember, ever punished him for anything. "But, Dad! I was just practicing! I didn't get hurt."

"This time. But what about next time?" James shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you, son. Why did you disobey me?"

Harry bit his lip. "I . . . I just wanted to practice being a Night Flyer. I thought you'd think it was cool. Uncle Sirius does!" He stuck out his lower lip. How did this all go wrong? He wasn't supposed to get in trouble. James was always the one who laughed when Harry tried something foolish, or made a joke about him being a chip off the old block.

"Uncle Sirius isn't your dad, and he doesn't need to explain himself to Child Services if you get hurt doing crazy stunts on your broom. You've already broken an arm. Would you like to break a leg? Or maybe a hip? You'd be real sorry then, in the hospital for a week, and not be able to play with your friends at all or fly. Is that what you want?"

"No, sir," Harry mumbled, now feeling slightly ashamed and wishing he could have waited till tomorrow to surprise his dad. Maybe then James would have been in a better mood. "I'm sorry. Next time I'll ask you to watch me."

"Next time? Harry, there isn't going to be a next time, because I'm grounding you from your broom for the rest of the weekend."

"What? No! You . . . you can't do that!"

"Oh, yes, I can. And I am." James said, meeting his son's defiant stare with one of his own. "Your broom is mine till you go back to your mum's on Sunday. And you're going to stay in your room for most of the morning too and think about what you did and how you ought to have followed my instructions."

Sudden tears sprang to Harry's eyes. "No! It's not fair! Nothing happened!"

"But it could have and you know it. Now, enough arguing. I want you to go straight to bed." James said, pointing to the stairs.

Harry lifted his chin. "I don't want to. I'm not tired."

James was at a loss for a moment. Harry had never really defied him like this before. He was uncertain what to do. Then he remembered what his foster father had done when he had given him an attitude like this over something. "Harry, I'm going to count to three, and if you're not in bed by then, I'll pick you up and carry you there and you'll get an extra five minutes of time out and a swat too."

"Time out!" Harry cried, furious. "Time out's for babies! I'm eight, Dad!"

"Then quit acting like you're Rosie's age. One."

"You're mean!" his son cried, feeling betrayed, though he didn't know why.

"Two. Better get moving." James warned.

Harry sniffled. "You're no fun anymore, Dad!" He couldn't believe that James was acting like this.

"Three," James said, his own temper sparking at his son's stubbornness.

Before Harry could move, James had leaned over and lifted his son, tucking him beneath his arm and marching up the stairs. Harry squirmed and wriggled, yelling at his father to put him down.

James ignored his son's outburst, arriving at Harry's room and walking over to the bed. He set his son facedown on the bed, then lifted his hand and gave him a single smack on his pajama-clad bottom.

Harry was so shocked he burst into tears.

"Next time listen," James said, then immediately felt guilty and gave his son a hug, just like Tom always had after he punished little Jamie. Harry sobbed into his shirt, more from shock than pain. James rubbed his back and said softly, "All right, no need to act like I murdered you, sport. You've had worse from your da. I warned you, and you deserved it, you were acting like a brat."

Those words combined with the punishment finally penetrated Harry's little cloud of denial and brought home to him that he had indeed been behaving badly. Like a first class brat, like Jamie had done for his da that time. Now Harry felt ashamed. "I'm sorry," he said contritely, and this time he meant it.

"I'm sorry too, but maybe now you'll listen when I start counting, huh?" James wiped Harry's nose with a tissue.

Harry nodded. While it felt strange to have his dad punish him, at the same time he was oddly comforted by it. James was, at long last, behaving the way a father should, giving both comfort and punishment in equal measure. "Yes, Dad. Am I still grounded tomorrow?"

"Yup." James sighed, then gently set Harry down on the bed. "Now go to sleep. No wandering around."

"Yes, Dad. Good night." Harry gave him a smile before he removed his glasses and shut his eyes.

"Night, sport. I love you, son."

"Love you too, Dad," Harry mumbled into his pillow.

James tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind him. That had been the hardest thing he had ever done, he thought ruefully. He bumped into Sirius on the way to his room. "Guess you heard the whole thing, huh?"

"Well, yeah, I was following right behind you," Sirius said.

"Was I terrible then?"

"Terrible? No, just . . . well you reminded me an awful lot of Tom, Prongs. Especially when you did that counting bit and gave him a smack."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Well, if I were Harry, I'd say it's a bad thing, but if I were you . . . I'd say you did a good thing. The kid was testing you, wanting to see what you'd do. And you did what was right."

"It was hard, Siri. I . . . I didn't like it, but . . . it had to be done."

"Tom told me that too, after he gave you a spanking once," recalled Sirius. "Makes me glad I'm not a parent yet."

James chuckled. "Poor Tom! Now I can understand exactly how he felt after I behaved like a brat and tried his patience. Funny, but I never understood why he got so angry till now."

"Well, you live and learn, Prongs." Sirius smirked. "He's your son, you know."

"Is that ever true! Good night then, Padfoot. See you tomorrow."

"We still going on that picnic, or have you cancelled it?" asked Sirius.

"Uh . . . I'm not sure. I'll ask Tildy and see what she thinks." James said, then he went into his bedroom.

When he spoke with Tildy the next morning, before Harry had woken up, and explained what had happened, he was pleased to discover that she approved of his actions.

"You did right in disciplining him firmly and yet lovingly, James. Sirius was right when he said Harry was testing you. All kids do it, and now Harry knows what you will and won't tolerate and just how far he can go. That's important, because all children need rules and boundaries."

"Otherwise they end up like me the first time around," James said, wincing. "A royally spoilt brat."

Tildy nodded. "Yes. Incidentally, your parents were as much to blame for your poor attitude growing up as you were. You've seen the difference discipline made on you with Headmaster Riddle."

"I sure have. My bottom might not have liked it much, but I can't say I didn't deserve it," James said, giving her a slightly naughty smile.

"I'd say his little experiment was a success, based on how you've treated Harry last night and also today. You've demonstrated firmness, resolve, compassion, and responsibility, James, which are the hallmarks of a good parent." Tildy praised.

James beamed. "I think that's the nicest compliment anyone ever gave me, Tildy."

She waved a finger at him teasingly. "Now don't you try and butter me up, Mr. Potter. It won't work. I'm on to you!"

He gave her a guilty-little-boy grin and said, "I'm telling the truth, Matilda! For the first time since Harry was born, I feel like I've done something right with him. I guess I was always a little jealous of Severus, because he seemed to know more about being a parent than I did. Lily was always saying how important it was to set rules and consequences, and that was something Severus has always been better at than me, and I didn't want to feel second-best, or anything like my rival, so I did the opposite. I didn't realize then how much I was confusing and hurting Harry by not behaving responsibly. But now I know better and I'm going to try my best to be a responsible father."

"That's all I or anyone can ask, James."

"So, does this mean you'll accept my invitation to dinner next Wednesday, Miss Bagshot?" he asked with a provocative smirk.

"James Potter! You know I'm not allowed to go on dates with clients!"

"Does it say that in your social worker handbook?" he teased.

"Well, no, but . . ."

"Is there some reason why you can't go? Do you have an appointment? Are you seeing someone else?"

"No, of course not! It's just . . ."

"Come on, Tildy. It's only dinner. That's all. No strings. I'll behave myself."

"You're a rogue, James!"

"But you like me anyway, don't you?" he grinned.

Tildy blushed, for she had found her resolve wavering when it came to James. Though she knew of his past as a ladies' man, she still found him charming, and his new attitude pleased her greatly. She liked the new James much better than the old one. A lot more. And that was very dangerous. She kept reminding herself that it wasn't smart to fall for a client, especially a reformed rake like James Darius Potter. Then again, what was a single dinner? They were both adults and could control themselves, right? One dinner did not make a date.

Tildy humphed, then said, "I'll need to think about it. I'll let you know by Wednesday."

James nodded, then muttered under his breath, "You say that now, my sweet, but soon you'll be having dinner with me every day. As my wife. I hope!"

Page~*~*~*~Break

Meanwhile, at the Snape flat, Rosie was going through her own set of growing pains with Severus. At almost four, she was a handful. Smart as a whip, possessed of the quick and clever mind of both parents, she had inherited the Snape stubbornness and Lily's flashfire temper. Today that temper was very much in evidence as she promptly threw herself on the floor and had a tantrum after Severus told her to pick up her room before going outside to play with Eric and Draco, who had slept over.

Severus watched, his dark eyes glittering with disapproval, as his daughter howled and kicked her tiny feet on the carpet, his arms crossed, not saying anything. He had learned long ago that you couldn't have any kind of discussion with a screaming child and he simply had to wait until she wound down before giving any kind of scolding or punishment. He had also learned that Rosie enjoyed being the center of attention and so ignoring her was the ultimate insult. He looked at a point on the wall across the room and silently counted to fifty, trying not to wince at his child's shrill screams.

Out in the den, Eric and Draco exchanged glances.

"Rosie's in big serious trouble now," said her brother knowingly. Then he winced, for all the Snape children knew how their father dealt with temper tantrums.

Draco nodded solemnly. "She should have done like Uncle Sev told her, and just picked up her toys. I would have helped."

"Me too." Eric bit his lip. "I don't like it when Da's mad. Or when Rosie's in trouble."

"Me neither," agreed the blond boy, shaking his head.

Both boys cringed upon hearing Severus' voice, scolding his wayward daughter sternly, followed by the sound of three swats, then an order to stand in the corner for four minutes and Rosie crying loudly.

"Poor Rosie," Eric sniffled, he was quite sensitive to other's suffering and hated it when his little sister or Harry was upset.

Draco felt sorry for her too, even though he knew she deserved to get in trouble.

Severus emerged from Rosie's room a moment later, looking quite unhappy. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. "I should have asked Mum to watch them today and helped Lily brew," he mumbled half to himself. "I'm at my wits end."

"Da, are you sad?" Eric queried, coming to stand beside Severus, his little hand touching his father's knee.

"A little," answered the apothecary truthfully, for he never liked having to spank his children.

Eric suddenly threw his arms about Severus and hugged him. "Do you feel better now, Da? Mummy always says a hug makes her feel better."

Severus picked up his sweet-natured middle child and set him on his lap, hugging him close. "Ah, Eric. Your mum was right. Hugs are the best medicine."

"Even better than potions?"

"Yes," replied his father, thinking how lucky he was to have this child, who had Eileen's patient and forgiving nature, and his own innate ability to make even the grouchiest curmudgeon smile and feel happy. Severus loved all his children, but Eric claimed a special place in his heart, his sensitive gentle son who reminded him of himself as a child, before Tobias had beaten all of the sensitivity out of him and turned him wary and fearful, afraid to trust or show any sort of gentler emotions. It had taken years for Lily to convince him to trust her and be comfortable showing his softer side while at school. Though since he had been married, he felt more comfortable displaying those gentler emotions, at least with his wife and children, godchildren and honorary nieces and nephews.

While Severus cuddled with Eric, Draco went to go and comfort Rosie, though he paused before leaving the den and called over his shoulder, "Uncle Sev, may I see Rosie?"

Severus checked his watch, the four minutes were up. "Go ahead, Draco." It amazed him how close those two were, even closer than he and Lily had been as children. He wondered if it had anything to do with his daughter's nascent empathic ability, for his little girl could be very loving when she chose, and Draco had been in desperate need of love when he had first come to the Lupins.

Draco entered Rosie's room quietly, he rubbed his eyes, which were tearing a little from sympathy. He hated when Rosie was sad or hurt, and he could feel her pain and remorse. It was not a conscious thing, but instinctive, an invisible connection between the two that had formed the first time he had ever laid eyes upon her, the red-haired baby who had made him feel so warm and loved inside, even when he was scared to death of everyone around him.

He came over to where she was standing in the corner, sniffling and rubbing her bottom, and hugged her from behind. "Shhh. You're going to be okay, Rosie Posy." That was his nickname for her and only he was ever allowed to call her that. He only did so when they were alone.

She turned around and hugged him hard. "Draco! I was bad n' Da spanked me an' put me in time out."

"Uh huh. You should have picked up your toys."

She nodded. "I know. But I wanted to play first."

"I would have helped," he reminded her gently.

"But you didn't make a mess." She pointed out. "I did."

Draco shrugged. "I don't mind helping you clean. Then you wouldn't have thrown a fit and got in trouble."

Rosie considered. "All right. Next time I'll ask you." She gave him a pitiful look. "Is Da still mad at me?"

"I don't know." He held her for a few moments more, then went and got a tissue from the little table and gave it to her. "Here. Blow your nose and dry your eyes. Then go say sorry to Uncle Sev."

"I already said sorry, after he spanked me," she told him, using the tissue. She leaned her head against his thigh, as she only came up to his midsection.

He felt her remorse and love flow through him and he smiled. "Uncle Sev will forgive you." He took her hand and led her from the room.

Severus looked up as Draco and Rosie came into the den. His daughter looked ashamed and contrite, as she usually did after getting in trouble. "Well, Rosalind? Is there something you would like to say to me?"

"Uh huh. M'sorry, Da, for being bad. I'll be good now." She released Draco's hand and ran over to him, burying her face in his lap.

"Then I forgive you, imp. Did you pick up your toys?"

She shook her head. "I forgot."

"Why don't you go and do that?" he suggested. He sensed she was overtired, and needed a nap, but didn't want to mention the "N" word and go through another round of screaming.

"'Kay, Da. Draco, help me, please?" she lifted her head from Severus' knee and shot a look at Draco.

Draco followed her back into the room. Together they picked up the scattered toys and placed them on the shelves and in the toy box.

"I'm done, Da!" she called once they were finished, yawning.

Severus came in to inspect the room and said, "Good job, both of you." He eyed his daughter knowingly. "Looks like a certain little girl is sleepy."

Rosie rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, then held up her arms to him. "Da, hold me."

Severus picked her up and sat down with her on her bed. He stroked her flyaway auburn hair and asked, "Do you want to go and play outside?"

Rosie shook her head. "Later. M'sleepy now."

"I see. Why don't you take a rest in your bed?" Lately, Rosie would only agree to nap if she thought it were her own idea.

"First sing, Da? Please?"

He made a face. "You know I can't sing, Rosebud."

"Can too. Sing, Da! Pretty please! With cherries on top. For me?" She gave him her best pleading look, the one he could never refuse.

"Very well. Only for you," he sighed, sounding very reluctant. "What would you like to hear?"

She thought for about a minute before crying, "Sing 'bout the Purple Pee-pull Eater!"

"The what? Purple People Eater?"

"Like Granpa Hal! You know, Da."

"I think I've forgotten," he teased.

"Nuh-uh. You 'member, Da! You 'member everything!" she said, her eyes shining with hero-worship.

"Refresh my memory. Sing it to me," he added when she gave him a confused look.

Rosie began singing. "I saw the thing come out of the sky . . . it was a one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater . . ."

"One eye?" Severus exclaimed.

Rosie nodded. "You 'member now, Da? It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater . . ."

"Pigeon-toed, under code, flying purple people eater," Draco sang softly. He had learned the song as well by listening to Rosie.

"What a sight to see," Severus added in his dark bass.

Rosie grinned. "You 'membered, Da! See? I knew you'd 'member."

Severus continued singing the silly song, which was Rosie's favorite, rocking the little girl back and forth as he did so. Draco sang also, until Rosie's eyes closed and the only sound from her mouth were soft little snores. The apothecary smiled tenderly at his youngest, then tucked her in bed with a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well, little minx."

Draco smiled at him before heading out and asking Eric if he wanted to play Aurors and Jesters in the backyard. Eric agreed and the two went out to play, leaving Severus alone to make a cup of tea and relax for a while. The only thing disturbing him then was the fact that he now had the bloody purple people eater song stuck in his head!