What was the boy doing? Was he going to stay in that shower for the whole evening? No respect for the property of others! Potter may be rich as a king but Snape was not! Didn’t the boy realize that it was Snape who would have to pay for all the water the boy wasted? Probably he did but was just too spoiled to see anything wrong with it.

And yet, even as he worked himself into anger, Snape could not deny that there was something about Potter. Snape couldn’t quite name it, but he had a feeling that there was something about the boy that Snape had… not missed really, but perhaps overseen. It was a nagging sensation at the edge of his mind, impossible to ignore but just as impossible to grasp. It annoyed him.

-          “Why is he here?”

Snape did not look up from the vegetables he was cutting as his son asked the question. Ian had entered the kitchen a few minutes earlier but hadn’t said anything, so Snape had waited for the boy to say what he wanted.

-          “His relatives could not be located. I had no other choice than to take him here,” Snape explained.

-          “Why here? Couldn’t you have taken him somewhere else?” Ian insisted.

-          “Where do you suggest I’d take him then?”

-          “I don‘t know! What about Professor Dumbledore? If he likes him so much why don’t he take him?”

They rarely said the boy’s name, the few times they spoke about him at all. If they had to they referred to him as “Potter” and nothing else. Potter was a Potter and not a part of their family, it went without saying.

-          “Even if I did know where to find Dumbledore at the moment he would merely order me to take the boy in. He has his ideas.”

-          “What about his friends then?”

-          “They would undoubtedly choose to reward his reckless behavior. There is a murderer on the run and Potter needs to learn that his actions have consequences before he goes and gets himself killed.”

Ian was a smart boy and Snape had discussed the matter of Sirius Black with him earlier that summer. He knew that the man was a lunatic, though Snape had seen no reason to explain that the man might be after Potter especially. Even so Ian was well aware that as much as they both disliked Potter the boy was valuable and would no doubt see the necessity of teaching Potter some personal control.

-          “I don’t like having him here,” Ian complained.

-          “Neither do I,” Snape admitted. “However, sometimes we don’t have a choice.”

Silence fell over the room. Snape moved to check on the stew he was making for dinner and then returned to the chopping of vegetables.

-          “He won’t go with us when we go shopping, right?”

Snape’s heart clenched a little at that. His son had been looking forward to begin Hogwarts for many years and Snape had promised that they would go shopping soon to get all that he would need. Back when he was a child Snape had never been able to afford all that he wanted, instead been forced to settle with both books and robes that were second hand. He had sworn that he would never force his child to go through something like that. Neither would Ian have to have his first Hogwarts shopping trip sullied by the presence of Potter!

-          “Of course not,” he answered, turning around to meet his son’s eyes. “I promise you, when we go shopping it will be just you and I.”

He intended to keep his promise, even if it would mean that he would have to lock the boy up in order to follow through with it. Of course there was still almost a month until school started and before that the Dursleys should have returned from wherever they were.

It was still an annoyance to have Potter in his home though. Snape was determined to make the experience as short as possible.

When Potter finally did emerge from the bathroom he was clean and dressed in the clothes Snape had placed there. He was vaguely disturbed that the clothes fit the boy almost perfectly even though they belonged to Ian, who was two years younger, but figured it had its natural reasons.

-          “Hungry Potter? Or did you have enough to eat earlier?” Snape taunted as he put the food on the table, thinking about how he had found the boy looking through a trash can for food.

-          “Yes sir,” Potter replied, sending a glare Snape’s way.

-          “You did have enough to eat earlier?” Snape asked, still taunting, trying to get a reaction out of Potter. Anything to let out some of the anger he had worked up while Potter was in the shower.

Much to Snape’s surprise Potter did not get angry or start arguing back. Instead the boy stilled where he was standing halfway in between the doorway and the table. He seemed to be debating with himself and did not look up at Snape, so Snape could not tell what was going through the boy’s mind either.

-          “I meant that I was hungry, sir.”

After speaking the boy did not move, neither towards the table or to leave the room. Snape got the impression that the boy was waiting, to see if he would be allowed to eat. There was something cowed over the boy, as if he expected to be denied food and had already accepted it. For a moment Snape was brought back to his own childhood, being chased out of the kitchen by his drunken father while his mother cried and begged her husband to let their child eat.

It was a load of rubbish of course, Snape knew that. He was allowing his own upbringing to affect his adult life, something he had sworn to never do. It still unsettled him, even though he knew that Potter was most likely waiting for Snape and Ian to start acting as his servants the way his relatives no doubt were.

For once at a loss for what to say Snape placed the stew on the table and seated himself. Ian had already started to fill his plate and Snape followed his example. When Potter still did not move Snape sighed in annoyance.

-          “Is stew not good enough for the famous Potter? Sit down and eat or leave the room!”

After a moment’s hesitation Potter joined them at the table and served himself a small portion of the stew. He then ate in silence. Snape looked out through the window and tried to ignore the boy. The Dursleys could not return soon enough, he thought.

Once dinner was over Potter offered to clean the dishes, much to Snape’s surprise. Usually Snape would just use a spell and made the dishes clean themselves or, if there were particularly hard dishes, clean them himself. The prospect of having Potter do chores seemed entertaining though. Despite his conviction that Potter would either break all of the dishes, which could be fixed with a swift reparo-spell should that be the case, or do the work poorly, Snape agreed.

While the boy worked Snape took the time to retrieve a blanket and an old pillow from a wardrobe and make the sofa, which would serve as Potter’s bed. Occasionally Ian had had friends over, whom had slept on a mattress on the floor of Ian’s room, but other than that they had no guest room. Potter would just have to make do with the sofa, to Snape’s glee.

As an extra precaution Snape also took the time to walk around the house and place various charms and spells to assure that Potter would not take off or go snooping anywhere where he was not welcome.  

-          “In this house, Potter,” Snape explained to the boy once he had finished the dishes, “we go to bed at a decent hour and we get up in the mornings. You will not stay awake late and go looking around, is that understood?”

If it was a disrespectful gesture or coincidence Snape was not sure, thought he leaned towards the former, but just then Potter yawned. Snape ground his teeth together, fighting to control his anger.

-          “Yes sir,” Potter replied, once he could speak again. “I understand.”

-          “You better.”

With a last glare at Potter Snape went upstairs, determined to check in on his son. At eleven years of age Ian was big enough not to need his father to put him to bed every night but at a time like this Snape figured they could make an exception.

Ian had already changed into his nightclothes and was lying in bed when Snape knocked on his door.

-          “Father;” Ian greeted him, putting his book aside. “Is anything wrong?”

-          “No more than you are already aware. I just wanted to come by and see how you were.”

Awkwardly Snape came to stand by the bedside of his son, unsure if it was ok for him to sit down or not. When Ian was younger Snape had often been sitting on his bedside but as the boy grew older he also grew more avert to those kind of affections. Snape was not sure how to act anymore and often wished that Ian’s mother would still be alive, to answer those answers for him. Looking at his own childhood provided no answers.

-          “I’m ok;” Ian said. “I don’t like having him in our house, but I’m fine.”

-          “It’s just for a few days. Who knows, maybe he will be gone already by tomorrow?”

-          “Yeah, but still. I don’t like him. He ruins things.”

-          “He does,” Snape agreed, glad that his son was smart enough to see through Potter’s charades.

An awkward silence filled the room. Snape tried to come up with anything to say but failed miserably. This was just another downside of Potter’s, creating a distance between Snape and Ian!

-          “Hey dad?” Ian said, just as Snape started to turn around to leave the room. “You won’t… adopt him or anything, will you? Even though he’s… yours?”

Shocked Snape struggled to find words to calm his son’s fears. Ian looked at his father and tried to explain himself further.

-          “I mean… I’m still your son, aren’t I?”

It took courage for Ian to utter those words, Snape could tell. His heart clenched a little at the realization that his son feared that he would be rejected, and he sat down on the bedside to take his son’s small hand in his.

-          “You are my son,” he stated. “You will always be my son, nothing can change that. I promise you.”

-          “Not even Potter?” Ian asked, his voice small and trembling.

-          “Potter is just another delinquent. He’s got nothing to do with our family.”

-          “But the potion showed…”

-          “That there are biological connections between us. That doesn’t matter.”

At his son’s confused look Snape tried to explain, even though he was not quite sure of his reasoning himself. The end result ended up sounding like a cliché but it described his feelings better than anything else he could come up with.

-          “Biology is not the sole determining factor of whether people are family or not. There are also the feelings we have for each other, that we care. I have never cared for Potter before but I have cared for you since you were just a little baby. That is something Potter can never change or undo, and why he could never take your place.”

-          “But what if he tries to… ruin things?”

-          “He can’t. If he tries he will find himself out of this house before he can say a word to object.”

This seemed to calm Ian’s fears somewhat and Snape relaxed a little. The last thing he wanted was for his son to feel unloved. Having grown up with his father being the way he was Snape had sworn that no child of his would ever feel unloved or unwanted – which just made the situation with Potter all the more confusing.

-          “Good night son.”

-          “Good night dad. Sweet dreams.”

-          “Sleep well.”

He left the room and closed the door silently, lost deeply in thoughts. In his head there was a clear distinguish between Potter and Ian. They were nothing alike and though they were both biologically Snape’s, Snape felt no responsibility for the older of the two. Potter was just different from Ian and therefore it was ok for Snape not to care, even though he was not quite clear on what that difference consisted of.

Perhaps it was because he went to bed lost in thoughts, or perhaps it was the presence of Potter in his home, but that night Snape dreamt. Dreaming was unusual for him, as he took pride in occluding his mind carefully even at times like that, to ensure that he would never be caught unprepared.

It was not a very pleasant dream.

Potter was in it – and not even the Potter Snape was used to seeing, but the twenty-something year old appearance of the now dead, former classmate of Snape’s.

Apparently not even death could keep James Potter from tormenting Snape.

They stood in darkness. The only light there were, was just where they were standing, coming from somewhere above. Snape could not see the source of it.

-          “You are being childish,” James Potter told Snape.

Snape’s dream-self glared and crossed his arms, not raising to the bait. He was older now, no longer the foolish adolescent he had once been. Ironically Snape was now in his thirties even though the James Potter in the dream was still in his twenties, around the same age he had been when he died.

-          “Seriously, you are acting like a child!” James Potter repeated. “You are mad and you are taking it out on those who are innocent.”

He opened his mouth to reply to that but James continued, his voice taking on an almost disappointed tone.

-          “I would have thought that you out of everyone would have known better than that.”

-          “I’m not taking my temper out on innocent,” Snape defended himself.

-          “Yes you are.”

-          “No I’m not.”

-          “You are. And even worse, the source of your anger is childish as well.”

This he did not deign with an answer, just simply glared at his childhood rival. James Potter did not seem bothered though. Instead he just crossed his arms mockingly, imitating Snape’s earlier movement.

-          “You are angry, because Lily didn’t tell you.”

If possible Snape’s glare grew even more murderous.

-          “You are mad because she chose me over you, even though she knew she was carrying your child. And you are taking it out on our son.”

-          “That’s not true!” Snape snarled angrily.

James just continued, as if Snape hadn’t spoken at all.

-          “Your anger is irrational. Just think about it. It was…”

Whatever it was James was going to say he did not have the chance to finish, as Snape forcefully pulled himself awake. He stared at the ceiling above his bed, trying to forget all about the dream. He did not want anything to do with James Potter, alive or dead. The memories he had were more than enough and he did not need new ones.

As carefully as he could he occluded his mind, to make sure that there would be no more such dreams.