"I don't wanna go to bed!" Harry had backed himself into a corner in the sitting room and had his arms crossed stubbornly over his still thin chest.

"Harry, you've had a long day..."

"I don't... wanna... go... to... bed!"

Snape was late for his meeting with Draco and with exasperation, he yanked Harry up off the floor, carried him into his bedroom, and shouted, "Get in bed! Now!"

Scared, Harry scrambled under the covers, practically burying himself away from his father's angry voice.

"Don't you dare move, young man, or you'll really be in trouble. Understand?"

"Y-y-y-es," came the stuttered reply.

Snape whirled out of Harry's bedroom, shut the door and then cast a spell that would let him know if the little boy tried to leave. He then made his way to his office to meet with Draco. He never heard the little sniffle that came from under his son's blankets.

Snape regarded the young boy... no, young man that patiently waited for him in his office. He was interested to note that the arrogance that had been so a part of the boy's demeanor the last four years was missing. He couldn't say whether it was a good thing or a bad to see the humility that hovered like a timid ghost over Draco's frame.

"You're curious about my son," Snape stated as he sat down behind his desk.

Draco studied his professor for a moment, and then sighed, openly giving up any pretence. "I almost didn't believe the article about Potter in the news, but then I saw you with him in Diagon Alley several weeks ago."

Snape had been shrinking his robes for Harry to wear, but the boy really needed his own clothing. That meant a trip to Madame Malkin's at Diagon Alley. Knowing Harry would need a complete wardrobe, and probably had a few opinions on what he'd wear, Snape had arranged a block of time to meet with Amalie Malkin herself.

Harry was distracted as usual by the amazing marketplace, but at a curt word, he fell into step next to his father and was soon inside the clothing shop. Amalie Malkin descended upon her customers and Harry felt enveloped and smothered by the lavender scent that fell from the older woman. It didn't get any better from there. He was measured, clucked over, and had dozens of fabrics held up to him. Questions were asked of him, but he was quickly feeling exhausted and cranky. Right near the end, he clammed up and refused to meet either adults eyes. He was very glad to be ushered out into the clean, crisp air two hours later which did much to revive him and erase the crankiness.

A stop at Fortescue's was a small reward at the end of the afternoon for the little boy. Draco was certain he wasn't seen at the nearby cafe and so he watched with interest as the little, black-haired boy bounced in his chair as he ate his ice cream with perfect abandon. As he consumed the cold confection, Harry rattled on about a variety of insignificant subjects. All the while the Potions Master listened quietly and with extreme patience. Although to anyone who didn't know him might think the older man was bored with the child he was watching, Draco was able to see a strange contentment in the dour face of Snape. As Snape took a damp cloth to Harry's ice cream messed up face, Draco felt a deep pang at what he had missed from his father.

Draco knew his father had loved him, but Lucius had not been a very demonstrative man. He had yearned for such attention and affection all his life. Now, his father was dead along with his crazy Aunt Bella and so many other Death Eaters. He understood what Potter did, but knew he'd never have such nerve to do the same.

Draco shifted in his seat and then carefully composed his fluttering nerves at Snape's wary distrust of him. Draco had always respected the Potions Master and a small part of him was jealous of the de-aged Potter. It wasn't his to covet, though, and so he'd decided to earn something else just as important; the man's respect.

"I'd like to offer my services for this year and until my seventh year, sir. I know you're going to be very busy during the term and it isn't always going to be possible to keep a proper eye on your son. I know that there are those, here in the school, who would try their best to cause Po...Harry mischief and maybe even harm him. If I can help watch over him when you're too busy, I'd like to."

Snape had not expected such an offer and one that sounded more sincere than all of Lucius Malfoy's charm-laden, political machinations. He was well aware that there were Death Eater children who'd want to take revenge upon his son and he hated to admit that he couldn't be protecting his son every hour of every day.

In their magic, both Harry and Draco had been evenly matched. Their dueling skills were beyond that of any seventh year, and their knowledge of spells was also impressive. Snape almost regretted the fact that Draco's superior arrogance had prevented a solid friendship developing between the two boys. Instead, they had become rivals constantly trying to best each other.

He would not show it, but it astonished him to see the Prince of Slytherin offering to become Harry's protector. He let a small glimmer of pride touch his obsidian gaze and Draco's cheeks blushed temporarily.

"Would I be able to call upon you at any hour of the day or night, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape inquired gravely.

"Certainly, sir. I expected you might already have something in place to watch over Harry while you're teaching." His tone hinted gently at a question. Snape merely nodded an affirmation. For a brief moment, Draco's reserve failed him, and the insecure boy who'd lost his father in an unjust war appeared. "Will Harry like me?"

Snape sighed. He knew of Draco's struggle to be the perfect son for Lucius. He had seen too many times when Draco tried to impress his father with some accomplishment, and more grown-up matters took precedence instead. Had Lucius Malfoy not been seeking power through the misguided leadership of the Dark Lord, he might have been a good man, and a good father. Like many of the Death Eaters, who were simply men and women that wanted more for their families, he had become trapped in the lure of Dark Magic and its elusive promises. They became slaves when they should have been proud, responsible, individuals.

Draco was the best of his father and with the Dark Lord gone for good, the world held much to offer him. In that moment, Snape made a silent vow to Lucius to make certain that Draco did achieve all that was best for him.

"Harry does not remember anything but his first six years. He understands that he was de-aged and that he has to grow up again, but I've done what I could to keep knowledge of his past here at Hogwarts from him. At this age, it would be upsetting for him." Snape gave the boy a steady stare and then stood up and came round the desk.

"I am pleased to accept your offer, Mr. Malfoy. I think you should make yourself available for dinner tomorrow when you can meet my son. Seven o'clock. Don't be late."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, Professor!" Draco was further delighted when his professor extended his hand. He hesitated, but only for a second, as he understood that Snape was, for the moment, looking upon him as an equal. With all the formality borne of a Malfoy, he gravely and firmly took the offered hand and shook. He did not smile with pleasure until he was halfway to the Slytherin common room.