Cursing himself for a fool, the Potions master summoned his cloak and Harry's. He'd forgotten about that back door. Between that and his ridiculous displays of emotion, it was becoming apparent that he was suffering some variety of brain damage.

He flicked his wand and growled a couple of charms. The kitchen door swung open with a slam. Both cloaks flew into his outstretched hand..

Molly stuck her head out, but fortunately there was no evidence of the Weasley boys, "Oh, he's never gone out without his cloak, has he?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Of course he has." Severus pulled out the pocket watch. The hand was at "Sulking" rather than "Mortal Peril" or "Mischief." A quick locus filias revealed Harry's location: "Broom Shed." Severus relaxed marginally. "I'll go get him." He thought he'd better get him before the child did something stupid again.

Molly nodded. "You'll be all right? You'll let me know if you need help?" she asked, wringing her hands a bit and staring out at the back garden. She turned back to Severus. "I'll leave a pot of tea on the table for you both. There's bread in the cupboard if you want to make some toast or a sandwich. Don't stay out in the cold all night, neither of you need that." She seemed to take comfort in practicalities,."Everyone else is in bed. I'll just get out of the way, shall I?"

"Thank you, Molly," Severus sighed, pulling his cloak on and picking up his cane.

Seeming to make up her mind about something, Molly caught Severus in a sudden hug. The man held himself stiffly for a few seconds before bending and patting the woman on the back. The last time anyone had embraced him like this was when Eileen had seen him off at the station that last Christmas.

"Molly," Severus said gruffly, "thank you."

"Don't be silly, dear. There's nothing to thank me for." She let go of him and patted his shoulder the same way Severus had seen her pat Bill's. "Now, you just pull yourself together a bit and then go on and get Harry before he gets even more confused than he already is." She pulled her wand out and produced a handkerchief that she handed to him.

Utterly mortified, Severus realized that tears were leaking from his eyes again. "I'm sorry. This is quite...out of character." His voice was harsh. "I don't know what's wrong with me." This was getting embarrassing.

The witch's eyes were understanding. "Bill said that the books all say its rather normal to be a bit..."

"Maudlin? Histrionic? Idiotic?" Severus grated. He was able to count on his fingers the number of times he'd been reduced to tears as an adult before these past two months.

"More emotional than usual," Molly said firmly. "Minerva and Poppy are the same. Minerva told me the last time she wrote that she can't get through a day without sitting down and crying at least once. And the things that come out of her mouth... Remus says she swears like a navvy." Her voice dropped to a confidential murmur. "I suspect she's taking advantage of it, though. Remus tells me she shouts at Dumbledore every time she sees him and puts it all down to the spell."

Horrified, Severus realized that he really did know very little of the Tribua spell's effects. He couldn't believe he'd used it without so much as a second thought. That was no doubt why Bill had been so shocked-it was just such a Gryffindorish thing to do.

Molly was going on, again giving him one of those encouraging pats of the shoulder. "Poppy said that the fits will pass soon, you just need to recover your strength. Hopefully, now that we've balanced the spell, that will happen a bit more quickly."

He really hoped so, or else how was he going to teach classes when he was apt to break down into laughter or tears at the drop of a hat?

There was nothing to do for it now.

He lit his wand so he didn't trip over anything in the garden while he went to the shed. He made no effort to be stealthy, so perhaps Harry could be forgiven for not realizing it was he.

"Fuck off, Ron," the boy hissed as Severus opened the door. "T-tell your mum I'm f-fine," Harry chattered. It was freezing in there and all Harry was wearing was his jumper and jeans. In the dim light Severus could see the boy, sitting on a box, facing away from the door. He had his arms wrapped around himself and he was was shivering.

Quietly, the man slipped into the shed, put his wand into his pocket and draped the cloak around Harry's shoulders.

The child gasped in surprise and jumped away, turning to face him. He dropped the cloak onto the floor.

"Harry," Severus sighed, leaning down to pick it up, "it's cold out here." He sat down on the box, holding the cloak out.

Eyes huge with trepidation, the young wizard reached out for it. Seeming as though he was waiting for it to turn into a snake or explode, he held it as though he didn't know what to do with it.

Severus sighed again. He stood, took the cloak back and handed his cane to the child. Shaking it out, he wrapped it around the youngster's shoulders.

Harry didn't say a word as Severus retook his cane and sat down on the box again.

"Do you know," Severus began contemplatively, "when I was about your age, my mother put a silencing charm on me for a whole week?" He smiled a little at Harry's rapt attention. He wondered if the child had always hung on his words like this, "She heard me call some girl a slag. I couldn't speak unless spoken to at all, and then only to give an answer. She told me that if I ever spoke of a witch that way, being silenced would be the least of my troubles. " He paused for effect. "I imagine Mrs. Weasley would have something to say about that sort of language used under her roof."

"Oh..." Harry sucked in a distressed gasp, "She didn't hear me, did she?"

Severus shook his head. "No. But I don't want to hear you say such things again. Especially not about your mother." He took the tone he generally did when issuing detentions. "I'm not above casting a weeklong silencing charm on you. I found it was quite effective in teaching me how to curb my tongue. AND it would allow Miss Granger ample time to explain in detail how offensive those words are to witches and Muggle women alike."

Perhaps this was the wrong time for it, but Severus felt he really needed to talk about both the language and the misconceptions implicit in the words.

"I realize your aunt and uncle said dreadful things about your parents and you were only repeating them, but you will not speak so again, do you understand?"

"I'm sorry." Harry whispered. An automatic response: Severus doubted he really meant it. The boy was exhausted and the upset of the day was wearing on him.

He showed how tired he was the next second by dropping to sit on the floor, taking the posture he'd had on the porch, with his arms folded on top of his knees and his face hidden in the folds of his cloak

"But why did she do it?" he asked, sounding defeated.

Severus leaned towards the child, putting his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his fists. The inner prompting that he now realized was indeed Lily's coaching told him that he needed to reach out to the boy, but with the utmost caution.

With all the care that he would use when handling petrified cobwebs or incendiary potions ingredients, Severus placed his hand on one of the child's. It was exceedingly cold—he needed to coax the child into the house, but they needed to get some things out into the open first. "She wanted a child, Harry. She would have gone to any length for you, as indeed she did when she faced the Dark Lord." He was encouraged that the youngster didn't pull away.

"Why didn't you take me, then?" Harry asked forlornly into his knees.

Severus sighed. "There were many reasons. Not least of which is that I... would not have been a fit guardian."

The young wizard mumbled indistinctly into his arms.

"What was that?" Severus said, scooting forward so that he was almost knee to knee with him.

"You wouldn't have been as bad as the Dursleys," Harry said with more volume, although he didn't raise his head.

"No. But I had no way of knowing that."

"Severus," Lily's voice ordered him, "you need to explain. Better than that." Having her in his head was going to be damned inconvenient, he could see. He hoped she had better things to do than spy on him all the time.

"Harry. Please. Look at me."

After a hesitation, Harry looked up. His eyes were very red and he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Sitting on his urge to find a handkerchief for the boy, Severus said very seriously, "My father was little better than your uncle and he often hit my mother as well as myself. He had a wicked temper and an evil tongue. I knew I was no fit father for anyone. I think my treatment of you and Mr. Longbottom in the classroom will attest to that."

Eyes huge, Harry hesitated then spoke slowly, seeming to be thinking his way through something. "You've been really good since this whole thing began, though," he offered as if to appease his guardian. "You got me clothes and glasses and everything." Unconsciously he pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Interesting that the boy should try to console Severus when ten minutes ago he was furious with him. Molly was correct about his temperament—that had to come from Lily. Severus himself had carried grudges for years.

"That is kind of you," Severus replied, feeling profoundly sad. "Clearly a testament to your guardians' ill treatment if you consider my bungling to be 'really good.'" His voice was bitter to his own ears. "It has only recently been made clear to me how very... wrong... my approach has been."

Harry tilted his head to the side as though having trouble following.

"I never intended to take custody of you... You see... I did not wish to become my father. It is not a reflection on you at all. I had thought..." He stopped, closed his mouth for a moment to organize his thoughts. Harry made no more move to interrupt than a class full of his seventh year NEWT students would have. "I was aware that there was ample money to take care of your material needs. If Petunia was not an unnatural shrew they would have been met, as would your emotional needs. I was willing to assume the world was ordered the way I wanted it to be. I was willing to pass off my obligations to someone I deemed more fit, without ever bothering to verify the matter for myself" Severus looked away from the boy, ashamed. "I fear I have become my father in many ways."

The admission was a knitting needle through his heart. Only as he said it did he realize how true it was. He might not be a drunk, but his foul temper and vitriolic tongue damaged those around him quite as much as his father's drunken rages. His neglecting to even check on Harry was far worse than anything Tobias ever did.

"You and Mr. Longbottom. I'm afraid you both brought out the worst in me," Severus said, still looking away from the child, but the smaller hand under his own had not been withdrawn. It was tensed to pull away, but for now the boy allowed the contact. That had to be an encouraging sign. If he wasn't getting through, Harry would be on his feet and out the door again. Retreat was one of the boy's major survival strategies. "I think I saw in you both some reflection of myself. And you? Had you been any other student, I would more than likely have thought to look for the underlying reasons for your behavior. As it was, I only thought you had everything I never had; how dare you behave like I did?"

"I don't understand," Harry said.

"No. Of course you don't." Severus felt stiff sitting here and, as they had been since he used that blasted spell, his emotions were far too close to the surface. "It's cold out here. And it's late. Everyone else went to bed." With a groan, leaning heavily on his cane, Severus stood.

He held out his hand. After a bare hesitation, Harry took it and pulled himself up.

"You're still far too cold. Come here." Severus pulled the boy to his side, draping his cloak and his arm over the child's shoulders so that his cloak covered them both. The man had a vivid memory, suddenly, of his mother doing the same to him when they were out together in the Wizarding world. Severus always thought it was because they could never afford cloaks with warming charms on them. Now, though, he remembered the amazing feeling of security it gave him when he was small. He drew the child closer to him so that his arm fully encircled those thin shoulders, feeling the small body stiffen, then relax.

As they walked back to the house, Severus realized that the boy's trembling was not shivering from cold. Harry was using his sleeve to wipe his face again, although he made no sound. As on the night Severus had comforted the child during his long crying jag after he'd shouted at Dumbledore, his weeping was very quiet. No doubt the result of being told to shut up his noise or else be given something to cry about.

In the light of the kitchen, Severus saw that Harry's face was awash in tears. "Here," he said quietly, producing a handkerchief. Harry took it with a small murmur that was probably a thank you.

If he was going to keep needing this many handkerchiefs, Severus reflected, he would start buying disposable tissues.

Molly had left the teapot on the table with a warming charm and the kitchen was toasty, soothing Severus' aching joints. With a tired groan, the wizard took off his cloak and sat.

Harry cleaned up, splashing his face at the sink. He took off his own cloak, hanging it and Severus' on the cloak tree before he came the table. By this time Severus had the tea poured.

"Are you hungry?" Severus asked solicitously.

Harry shook his head.

Severus chose his next words carefully, pitching his voice to be as reassuring as he could. "There is far too much we have not yet discussed. I would like to do that now. However, I need your word that I will not have to chase you down again. I am very tired of this game we've been playing. Clearly it is long past the time for this conversation."

A sort of noncommittal grunt was the answer.

That wouldn't do. "Harry, I need your word. Otherwise, I swear I will stick you to that chair." Severus allowed his voice to creep towards the stern one he used on people who melted cauldrons.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied meekly.

That was probably the best he was going to get.

He rubbed his eyes, propping his elbows on the table. When he looked up, Harry was staring at him as if he'd never seen him before. Questions were forming in the back of the child's eyes, but he was biting his tongue.

"What is it?" asked Severus as gently as possible. He clasped his hands together and gave the child his full attention.

The boy flinched. A second later he squared his shoulders and raised his chin. "So... when are you planning on getting the Wizengamot to let you get rid of me?" He seemed to be going for a defiant tone—and failing.

Severus shook his head. "I told you, we can transfer your custody to the Weasleys at the earliest convenience. We need only speak to one of the judges privately."

Harry looked away and took a deep breath, looking unpleased about something. The only thing Severus could think of was that it wasn't soon enough for the child. "There's no reason you can't stay with them now, if you like." He strove to make his voice gentle and non threatening. "I only brought you to my home in the beginning because... well..."

"Ginny." Harry glanced back at him, then away again, his hands clasping his teacup and looking into it as though trying to read the leaves.

"Precisely. I was attempting to sort out a way for you to stay with them permanently that wouldn't involve the Ministry, but since that proved impractical we'll have to..." Severus trailed off. The child was doing it again, sniffling and trying to pretend he wasn't. They were a fine pair. At this rate they were going to end up drowning themselves in salt water. "What is it?" He tried not to snap.

"I just... I don't..." Harry sputtered as though he couldn't formulate what he was thinking. "What if I don't want to go to the Weasleys?" he finally whispered.

Severus opened his mouth and shut it again, not quite understanding what the child was saying.

After a moment, he said, "Well... I'm not at all sure who you would prefer." Perhaps the Grangers? He wondered if it was possible that the Muggle-raised child might not be as comfortable in the WIzarding world as they'd always supposed.

The child just sighed sadly.

Using his most persuasive voice, Severus said, "Please, Harry. I'm trying to help. You need to tell me what you're thinking."

"You could keep me." The child's voice was barely more than a whisper.

Severus stared for a full minute, feeling like someone had just cast a confounding charm on him.

"Sir?" Harry's concerned voice finally brought him out of his stunned silence.

"Why on earth would you want that?" Severus finally asked, blankly.

The boy looked much younger than thirteen at the moment. Short and skinny, although he had put on some weight and was no longer drowning in his clothes, he looked like a Dickensian waif. Still not looking up, he gave a jerky shrug.

It wasn't often in his life that Severus felt completely baffled—this was something he'd never even considered. Perhaps Molly would have some idea of what bizarre impulse might have prompted this request.

It could be that with the child's overdeveloped sense of responsibility, he felt that the Weasleys' plate was too full. It was even possible that he felt that he needed to look after Severus. Certainly, that whole housecleaning thing pointed that way.

"Harry…?" he prompted, when it became clear that the child wasn't going to say anything further.

"Never mind." The boy firmed his chin as though he'd taken a major blow but was determined to bear up underneath it.

That was just too much; when Harry's green eyes met his, he silently incanted Legilimens.

The images from the boy's mind were confused and full of conflict. Foremost in them was the night of Harry's unsuccessful hanging: the ginger allspice scent of Severus' robes, the feel of Severus' hand and the sound of his voice. The feel of a book in the bottom of the boy's bag that meant security.

Unsettled, Severus cancelled the spell. Nervously, Harry averted his eyes and fiddled with his tea cup.

"We certainly don't have to do anything you don't want to do." Severus tried to think his way through the impressions he'd gained from the child's mind. He was feeling grateful to Severus for the saving of his life and, being thirteen, he was easily swayed by such things. "If that's what you prefer, of course you can stay with me." The child's gratitude was encouraging in that it meant that the boy was less likely to do anything rash at the moment. Severus himself had been resentful of his own rescuers for weeks.

"Really?" Of his own accord, Harry sought Severus' gaze, searching his face for something.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," the Potions master said stiffly.

Harry nodded.

"You can certainly change your mind," Severus assured him, knowing the child would change his mind when he was feeling less vulnerable. "Nothing is irrevocable right now." Wryly, he added, "Given that we both seem to be in the custody of the Weasleys currently, perhaps it's of no great matter."

The boy returned the smile.

"That being settled, for the moment, perhaps we can move on to other things?" Severus said gently.

"Like what?" The wizard supposed that the child couldn't be blamed for his apprehension.

"I fear that since you have rejected the betrothal idea, this could get... messy. If the Dursleys' arrest comes out, there will be petitions for your guardianship." Severus said nothing of the potential for violence against Muggles that might follow. "There are quite a few old families that can claim some distant relationship to the Potter line."

Another thing Severus wasn't going to mention: the Malfoys, the Blacks and the Lestranges could all claim kinship. Fortunately, the Blacks and the Lestranges were out of the way. Lucius, on the other hand, would love to get his hands on the child and it would not be the first time a Malfoy had bought a judge.

"If that happened, the records would be examined and the change in guardianship would possibly be leaked to the press. I may be able to have the records sealed due to your presumptive father's family name, and we can claim some relationship through our Muggle ancestors. You are not the first child conceived this way, nor will you be the last."

"What?" Harry looked shocked.

"I told you, Harry. It's a genetic trait common in pure-blood houses. Most witches of pure blood are carriers, and many of the wizards who can conceive are also carriers. If there were not Muggle-borns and half-bloods, we would die out in a few generations. Most of the Wizarding families with several children have a Muggle relative in the recent past."

"Oh." The boy rubbed his eyes under his glasses with one hand. He looked drained and grey.

There was one more piece of business to discuss before he sent the boy to bed. "I received a phone call from a social worker before we left Spinners End. Your cousin was taken into care as well."

Harry paled at the mention of his cousin. "He's okay, isn't he?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, and fortunately for us he has supplied ample details of the Dursleys' treatment of you. The English authorities feel that the written affidavits from us and your cousin's testimony are sufficient for now. They might, however need a statement from you in the future."

Harry's brow wrinkled. "What did Dudley say?"

"He told the truth. Actually, according to the social worker, he didn't seem to understand that the treatment you received was in any way abnormal. He told the authorities that there was something deeply wrong with you and his parents had to lock you up. He then described how you lived in a way that left no doubt that you had been abused."

"Oh, but..." Harry began.

Severus held up his hand to forestall the maddening claim that the boy never really experienced abuse. "Harry, please. We can argue that later, if you don't mind."

Harry nodded, looking chastened.

"Your cousin has asked for permission to contact you. He'd like to either be allowed to speak to you in person or phone you."

Harry shook his head. "Not if I don't have to. Not right now."

"I thought as much. I told the woman that it was likely you would feel that way." Severus hesitated. "I did tell her that he could write to you."

"Assuming he can write," Harry muttered. "Wait, how can he write to me? Wouldn't he need an owl?" Tiredly, he folded his arms on the table and put his head down on them.

"No. Letters addressed to Hogwarts generally find their way to the school even from the Muggle post."

"Oh." The child's muttering sounded half awake. He'd done this once or twice in class this term. Severus supposed he hadn't been sleeping since Longbottom's murder.

Severus sipped at his tea, watching the child doze off. By the time he'd finished, Harry was breathing slowly and evenly. It seemed a shame to wake him. A quick charm made the child light as a feather so that the tall man could pick him up. A little maneuvering and Severus had the youngster arranged on his hip so that he could use his cane for balance and carry the child with one hand. There was no way he was going to carry the boy upstairs tonight, so Severus just took the him to the bedroom he was sleeping in.

He hoped Molly wouldn't be bothered by his transfiguring the chair into a small bed. A switching spell and Harry was clad in his pajamas.

He tucked the child into bed. "Good night, son," he whispered.