First year had been difficult for Harry and Hermione.

The duo had been five years old when they had first met and fallen irrevocably in love via magical bond that neither of them understood and wouldn't until they were both nearly eleven years old. At the time, the magical bond made them love one another as close siblings would love one another. Eventually, though they would not know it for years, the two would fall deeply in love, the bond merely allowing them to be even closer. Soul mates, one might say.

Both of the children had secrets. Deep secrets. Shameful secrets.

The wizarding world thought that Harry James Potter was living among muggles, carefree and happy after his parents had been murdered by Voldemort.

How wrong they were, for Harry James Potter was not his name, he was not happy among the muggles, and only his mother had died that night, and only because James Potter, insane as could be, had killed her.

It had all been covered up by Dumbledore, as this aided the old man in his decision to hide the little boy from his true father, Severus Snape. Even going as far as repeatedly obliviating the man until Severus had realized what was happening and had found a way to guard himself against further mind altering magics.

This story however, had helped Severus make an important discovery. He now knew where his son was. In fact, once he heard the story of Lily's child being placed in a safe location, it was clear where he had to search for his son. He should have realized that Dumbledore would have done something so obvious from the beginning. For, as he was quickly learning, the biggest lie of all was the truth. He couldn't believe that he hadn't actually realized it sooner.

His child was with Petunia, her walrus, and their abomination.

Severus had been irate when he realized it; irate enough that he had wanted to murder Dumbledore, but instead went directly to #4 Privet Drive.

That was how Severus found not only his young son on his seventh birthday, but also the missing, presumed dead, daughter of one of his closest friends.

He knew immediately upon seeing the wild, dark, brown, nearly black, hair that the child was the missing Black, who disappeared from the wizarding world nearly seven years ago. He was surprised to not only see them together, but to see the magical bond that they shared with one another. The union was visible to one who could see the aura of magical bonds…Severus was one of those people. He immediately thought that he, and they, were lucky that Albus Dumbledore couldn't.

He had watched them for several days, both always secretly meeting one another in a park, beneath a hidden bush, or in a hollow tree. He was quick to realize that the girl was bringing his son food, water, even aspirin. That was when Severus decided to take a closer look at Petunia and her walrus.

He watched silently by as the walrus roughed his son up a bit.

He watched silently by as Petunia threw a hot skillet at his son's head, barely missing.

He watched silently by as the little abomination chased his son in a game of Harry hunting.

He struck silently and abruptly when he watched his son have a bout of accidental magic and both Petunia and the two walrus' began to gang up on him as if he was nothing more than a defenseless animal not worthy of their time.

He had taken Harry from the house at that moment, apparated with him to the back yard, told him to stay put, and then had returned to the house to deal with the three muggles. He would never tell Harry what he had done and he hoped that Harry would never ask.

That little fact would hopefully remain only with Severus forever, for if his son did ask, he would not tell him. There was no reason for the small child to have any nightmares.

Once back outside, fifteen minutes later, Severus realized that Harry had not moved an inch from where he had sat him down. His legs were drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them with his chin propped on top of his knees. He watched the ground intently, as if there was something fascinating going on in the world of dirt and grass and insects. Something that only a little boy would notice and pay attention too.

Severus walked over to him and knelt in front of him, a hand on each small shoulder, waiting until the little boy looked up from the grass and gazed up at Severus. That was when the older man was suddenly staring into the brightest emerald eyes he had ever seen. They were even brighter than his wife's had been. They were beautiful. Enchanting.

"Harry…"

"You know my name. You…Why do you smell so familiar?" Harry asked quietly, even as he released his arms and leaned into the man despite the fact that he had no idea who he was, or had any reason to trust him.

Severus stared at the boy in surprise. He remembered his smell? The last time he had held his son, the boy had been only nine months old. Now, more than six years later, was it possible that he actually remembered him?

Severus sighed wistfully. He had dreamed about this day for years.

"I have something very important to tell you. It may be hard for you to understand, but I want you to try really hard…"

"They lied to me, didn't they? You didn't die in a drunken car crash…" Harry started, staring at the man.

Severus was taken aback.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked him, kneeling on the grass…something he would never do in front of anyone else and feel comfortable, besides, possibly, his wife, Rosemerta.

"You're my Dad…Right? I kinda look like you when I don't look like this. They told me that you were a drunk. You and my Mum died in a car crash…" The child trailed off and looked down at his feet. Should he of said that?

Severus looked at him.

"What do you mean, when you don't look like that?"

Harry looked up at the man.

He swallowed deeply.

"When I was five something happened," Harry looked at his feet then, slightly nervous, before he finally looked back up, "My looks changed sometime during the night on my birthday. I noticed it when I woke up." Harry looked at the tips of his old, ragged shoes. He had always been made to get up earlier than his relatives, that day it had probably saved him from a world of hurt.

Harry finally looked back up at the man in front of him, "But, I couldn't go around looking like someone different, now could I? Not with my aunt and uncle and cousin. I was scared and really, really wanted to go back to the way I was, and I did. I thought I would since the time that Aunt Petunia cut my hair and it grew back overnight…Why did you leave me here?" Harry asked him, hurt apparent in his emerald eyes.

It was a look that Severus could live forever without having to see again. It reminded him so much of the hurt he had felt during his own childhood…only worse because this was his son.

"You are right, Harry, you are my son. I am your father. But, I would never have left you here. Ever. I have searched years to find you…And finally I have. I want to take you home with me, Harry. Somewhere safe…A place where you will be happy." Many people would be surprised at how much Severus wanted to hug the child. He seldom let anyone see the real him, the man under all the layers of black fabric. The man who only desired to have his family with him.

"But what about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? They aren't going to let me go… Someone told them that they had to keep me here or they could die. Plus they get that money…I heard Aunt Petunia talking about it with Uncle Vernon one night. They said that even with the money the freaks send them, it isn't enough to really want to keep a freak like me." The little boy looked downcast as he discussed the horrible situation.

Severus looked at Harry. He did a double take when he realized that Harry had let glamours fall from his body. He did indeed look like a Snape. Thick, midnight, black hair which curled softly around his ears, strong jaw and cheeks, and a nose that might have resembled Severus' own before it had been broken four times.

"You are going to be a strong wizard, Child." Severus said, running his hand over Harry's facesoftly, staring deeply into his eyes.

"Magic isn't real. The things I do are freaky. That is why Mione likes me. She is freaky, too."The look in Harry's eyes was one of a haunted child, a child told too many times that he was afreak…worthless…useless.

Severus stared at the boy for a moment.

"Magic is very much real, you are not freaky, and neither is your friend. You are a wizard, Harry, and your friend is a witch."

"I want to go with you…" Harry said softly, a single tear trailing down his thin, sallow cheek, as he remembered what the man, his father, has said earlier.

"I will have to place strong spells around your aunt and uncle's home to make others think that you are still here."

"I can't leave Mione though." Harry told him quickly.

"We cannot take her…not yet…"

"We have too. I have to be there to heal her in case she does something again. Her Dad likes her to be normal, you see, and sometimes, for us, that is really hard…"

Severus felt his heart constrict. How could words that the child spoke seem so innocent, yet have some a horrible meaning?

Severus Snape had quickly gone into action. He placed multiple and varied spells on the home of the Dursley's. Some spells so dark he dared not allow his son to re-enter the home due to the harm the residue would cause to young magical children. The spells would insure that no one would ever know that Harry was no longer living there.

Severus cared little about the effects the spells might cause on the Dursley's. He hoped that the spells made them all miserable.

He then went to the little Black girl's home. Though he had not told Harry, he had planned on getting her out of the muggle home anyways. He just hadn't planned on it being so soon.

But the boy was right…

It was time that the stolen child found her way home to her true family. They had been looking for her for years.

It was time that his lost child found his way home to his true family. He had been looking for him for years.

After further warding to ensure that everyone in the wizarding world would think that both children were still in their muggle homes, Severus Snape, holding the small hand of his son and carrying the small girl on one hip, her face hidden in his hair, knocked on the door of Malfoy Manor.