S.S.

"Why is it, Mr. Potter, that two days after I take you to the beach I'm still finding sand in my quarters?" Severus asked, spelling sand off of the sofa.

"Um, sand gets around, sir," Potter replied, looking up from the letter he was writing balanced on his knees.

"Indeed it does if you bury yourself in it," Severus returned, with an irritated edge to his voice, crossing the room to sit on the other chair and read the Prophet.

"It was worth it," came the muttered reply, which Severus pretended not to hear.

Severus regarded Potter over the top of his newspaper. The boy looked unusually irritated that morning considering his good mood from the previous two days. He was certain that the boy had enjoyed his day at the beach and he was sure that he'd made up for the wolf's careless disregard of the child's feelings. It had taken Severus' threat of a grounding for the boy to stop with the 'thank yous' for taking him out for the day. Luckily the child was oblivious that it was all done for his benefit, which suited Severus just fine. He would then have to hear no end of 'thank you's' yet again if the boy was ever to find out.

H.P.

Harry was rereading his letter from Sirius, increasingly irritated with each line.

Harry,

What were you thinking leaving the castle with Snape? He could have taken you anywhere! I've told you not to trust him – there are things you don't know about him. Don't put yourself in danger by leaving with him again.

I know you were probably disappointed that Remus couldn't take you out. He was gutted too, but that's no reason to go anywhere with Snape. I want you to promise me you won't do it again.

I'll wait until I next see you to give your birthday present. I didn't get to see your face when you got your Firebolt. Enjoy your birthday.

Padfoot

Harry was pretty annoyed about the whole thing to be honest and so he figured the direct approach would probably be best. He loved his godfather but he could be really dense sometimes.

Padfoot,

Look, I get that you don't like Snape but I don't see why I can't go places with him. I live with him, so if he wanted to do me in he could do it here. It's not like he can go off somewhere else, kill me, then just come back to the castle without people getting suspicious. Not that it matters because he isn't going to kill me. Remus trusts him, Dumbledore trusts him and I trust him.

He's alright, you know. He's not nice all the time but we're getting on loads better and he's taking good care of me, and I had a great time at the beach. Honestly, it was really good and I'm not going to promise that I won't do it again.

Don't be mad about it. I can't wait to see you. Stay safe.

Harry

Maybe that's too harsh. He reread his letter. He couldn't believe he was standing up for Snape to his godfather, but he was being ridiculous. He'd known Snape for the last three years and the man had saved his life twice already. He may have hated him in the past but he couldn't deny that he was trustworthy, and now, what with everything, he didn't hate him as such.

What was more annoying was that his godfather didn't think he was smart enough to know who to trust or when he was getting into a dangerous situation. He wasn't an idiot. He'd been in enough life threatening situations to know when he was in danger.

"Stand up for me, Mr Potter," Snape said from beside him. What was he on about? Did he read his letter?

Snape obviously didn't expect a reply, busy as he was unwrapping a lumpy parcel. "Get up, Potter. I won't ask you again." Harry stood as Snape pulled out a black muggle coat and unzipped it, holding it out for Harry to put his arms into. He regarded Harry critically for a moment. "It seems to fit. Is it satisfactory, Mr. Potter?"

"My birthday's not for two days, sir," Harry replied, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"It's not a gift, Potter," Snape said, taking it back and folding it up. "It's a coat. I neglected to buy you one when we went to the shopping centre. I'm merely rectifying that."

"Thank you, sir. It's really nice," Harry said, taking it back off him. "Uh, have you thought any more about when Ron and Hermione can come to the castle?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "When, Potter?"

"Well, you didn't say no…"

"I did not, but neither did I say yes. I am still considering it."

Harry exhaled noisily. He wasn't disappointed… Well, he was. Snape was just putting it off so that he could say no later. Then again, that wasn't very Snape. He was the kind of man who liked to hiss 'no' in your face, but then maybe he was trying to drag out the disappointment.

"Don't stand there looking gormless, put it away."

H.P.

That night Harry awoke to yet a burning pain in his scar, shooting up in bed with a yelp that had Snape striding into his room not ten seconds later.

"I didn't mean to yell," Harry said automatically. His uncle had not taken well to nightly disturbances of any kind, not that there had been many, but he seemed to have unusually sharp hearing where Harry was concerned.

Snape stopped short at Harry's words, a dark expression crossing his face. "Calm yourself, Mr. Potter," he said quietly and Harry relaxed minutely, realising that he wasn't about to endure yet another argument on top of the pain in his head.

Snape knelt beside his bed. "You're irritating your scar. Does it hurt?" Snape pried his hand off of his forehead.

"N-no. No."

"Potter, I need you to tell me what's happened."

"Nothing happened, sir. I just woke up and my scar hurt," Harry said truthfully, trying to stop his hands shaking. Snape must think he was being a right attention seeking idiot.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Not five seconds ago you told me that you were not in any pain," he reminded him with a frustrated edge to his voice.

"It only hurts a bit. It's no big deal," Harry shrugged.

"I'll be the judge of what is and what is not a big deal, Mr. Potter."

Snape abruptly stood and left the room, leaving Harry to wonder if he'd offended him or something. It wasn't like he was upset about him leaving, he hadn't expected him to stay. It's not like he needed a cuddle or something stupid like that, but he couldn't help but wonder why he left so quickly. He supposed he didn't need to wonder, it was obvious, Snape found out what he needed to know and then left. Well, that was fine.

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his prickling scar tiredly. Why had it started hurting all of a sudden? That was what had him on edge, more so than the pain. He should probably ask Dumbledore or Snape in the morning.

Suddenly, Harry felt something cool on his forehead and he jerked back, slamming his head on his headboard. "Oww," he groaned, wincing. He opened his eyes and saw Snape next to him holding a damp flannel and a glass of water. Harry unexpectedly found a lump form in his throat but swallowed past it.

"Drink this," Snape said, putting the glass in his hand.

"Thank you," Harry replied, sipping it. Merlin, the man could be quiet when he wanted to be.

"I'm hesitant to give you a potion, but if you'd like a pain reliever I will summon one."

"It's okay, just stings a little now." He reached up to rub his irritated scar only to have his hand pulled down again. That was becoming an annoying habit. Snape pressed the cloth to his forehead again with his other hand on the back of Harry's head in case he slammed it backwards again.

"This is fine," Harry mumbled, closing his eyes. It felt really nice to have the cool cloth against his skin and to have someone do it for him. He didn't want Snape to leave but he thought he must be irritated enough as it was that Harry had woken him up.

"Sir? I'm sorry I woke you up."

"You did not wake me but it is of no consequence," Snape replied calmly, turning the cloth over before pressing it against Harry's scar once more.

"I know you're mad–"

"Ridiculous. I am not angry with you, and even if I did object to the hour I'm inclined to blame the Dark Lord, not you." He took the cloth off his head. "Is the pain gone?"

"Yeah, it's okay. Why do you think my scar hurt? I'm not sick."

"I can only speculate. I shall speak to the headmaster in the morning."

"But what do you think?" Harry pressed. It's not like he hadn't spoken to Dumbledore about it and he was there last time. He must be able to tell him something.

Snape stood before speaking. Harry guessed that it was because kneeling beside the bed was uncomfortable. Snape folded his arms and tapped his fingers against his arm thoughtfully. "Based on what I have discussed with the headmaster I would think that the Dark Lord was experiencing some very strong emotions tonight that broke through while you were asleep. I do not think that you would have felt anything had you been awake."

Harry nodded. "Right. Should we be worried about whatever it was?"

"I suggest that you put it out of your mind entirely," Snape said with a hard glare.

"But Voldemort could be up to something!" Harry replied indignantly.

"Do NOT speak his name!"

"Dumbledore does," Harry replied, irritated that Snape was dismissing the issue. Why does Snape even care what he calls him and why does he keep calling Voldemort the 'Dark Lord'?

"Professor Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard."

"Fine! He could be up to something really bad–"

"I assure you that you need not think on it. The headmaster will be alerted," Snape said with a note of finality.

Harry then realised that it must be his birthday now or almost at least. "What time is it, sir?"

"Time for bed, Mr. Potter," Snape replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Has there been any post for me?"

"I'm not checking the post at one o'clock in the morning, birthday or no birthday, Potter," Snape said, his tone coloured with irritation.

"You know it's my birthday?" Harry said incredulously.

"I'm not completely unaware."

"Oh. Can I check it?" Harry asked, swinging his legs out of bed.

"No, I do not permit you to wander around in the middle of the night unless you have need of me."

"But– look it's just this once, I'll go to sleep after."

"You can wait until morning to open your presents, Potter," Snape snapped impatiently. It was obvious that he was trying not to lose his temper.

"It won't take long," Harry entreated.

"Why, Potter, is it so important that you do it right now?" Snape asked through gritted teeth.

"I don't know."

"No. It will still be your birthday in the morning. Not another word." Harry shut his mouth, realising that it was futile to argue further. "Lie down," Snape ordered, as if he was certain that Harry would take to wandering. "Goodnight."

"Do you think it'll happen again?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows as Snape made to leave his room.

"It is unlikely, but I can give you some dreamless sleep. It should put you into a deep enough sleep that you won't be caused any discomfort should your connection bother you."

"Yes, please," Harry murmured sleepily. He didn't want Snape to think he was pathetic but he didn't want to sleep if he was just going to be woken up by his scar again.

Snape summoned the vial and uncorked it, holding it out for Harry to take. "One swallow."

Harry eyes drooped shut right away and he let himself go limp as he dropped back onto his pillows. He felt his glasses being plucked off his face and looked up blearily at the Snape shaped blob standing over him. "Thanks f'r the potion," he mumbled before sleep claimed him.

S.S.

Severus sighed and leant tiredly against the kitchen counter. It was eight in the morning and he'd just returned from speaking with the headmaster about Potter's scar. The man had little to add about the cause behind the pain except to add that yet again the Dark Lord was surely increasing in power and it was likely to be quite a frequent occurrence, but do let him know if it happens again...

Severus almost snorted in irritation. He hadn't been able to sleep during the night in case the boy needed him again that night, despite the potion he'd administered.

Truth be told, he was perhaps a little nervous too. It was the boy's birthday today and he had little experience celebrating birthdays. He couldn't care less for his own and he had no cause to celebrate others. He had on occasion seen Draco Malfoy on his, but the child was spoilt beyond compare and all Severus had to do was blend into the crowd.

He laid out the post on the kitchen table along with the boy's breakfast. He'd done a full English instead of giving the child just cereal. He wasn't entirely sure why it mattered to him that he was happy today. It must be that he wanted to set himself apart from the boys relatives. It was hardly likely that those muggles who wouldn't give the boy appropriate clothing would treat him kindly just for the sake of his birthday.

"Morning, Professor." Potter, for some unknown reason, chose to sit in the seat next to that which Severus had placed his plate, reaching forward for the plain cereal that Severus preferred.

"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered, summoning the box out of his hand and flicking his wand so that the plate of food was in front of him instead.

"It's mine?" Potter stupidly asked.

"It's your birthday."

"Oh. Yeah, thank you, you didn't have to–"

"It's breakfast, Potter, just eat it," Severus replied, waving away his thanks.

"Can I open my cards?"

Severus shot the boy an irritated look before nodding and pouring his own cereal.

He watched the boy as he opened a card with the gamekeepers writing and read it intently, smiling. He then stood it up, carefully, before opening the gift. He was as dissimilar to Draco as it was possible to get. Young Mr. Malfoy devoured his gifts, not even checking the tags. His gifts, of course, were far more lavish than the small pile adorning the kitchen table, which now consisted of three cards, a cake, a book, a box of sweets and some of Hagrid's homemade fudge. Potter was beaming as if they were the best gifts he could have hoped to receive.

Severus was not surprised that there was nothing from the boy's relatives, despite the fact that they ought to know how to contact the child at the castle considering he spent Christmas here every year. Black and Lupin appeared not to have sent anything.

"It would appear that you'll be waiting a little longer for the rest of your presents."

"Oh no, the Dursleys don't get me presents. Well, Uncle Vernon gave me a pair of his socks and a hanger once but to be honest I'd rather go without," Potter said, munching happily on his bacon.

"I was referring to your gifts from Lupin and your godfather."

"Oh. Sirius said he'd give it to me in person."

Severus nodded, not wishing to discuss Black further. He cleared his throat and summoned a box from his rooms. He and the boy were on barely good terms; he wasn't even sure the gift would be accepted. He had reasoned that he ought to get the boy something. He had been well behaved and they had been getting along a lot better of late. Besides, the boy's reprehensible relatives had clearly not allowed him to have a real birthday and he did not want to be compared to the likes of those people, so he could not hold the gift back now.

"Mr. Potter." Severus held out the box to the boy who stared at him dumbly. "Take it."

"I didn't– you didn't have to get me anything." It was clear that the boy was somewhat overwhelmed. After the coat issue a few days before he should have realised that the boy would be somewhat surprised.

"It's considered rude not to accept a gift."

The boy cleared his throat and took the box with a slightly shaking hand and unwrapped the plain green paper adorning the gift. He opened the box slowly and his eyes widened as he saw what was inside.

"Wow," he breathed, picking out the small golden ball.

"Don't let go of it; it's resistant to the summoning charm."

"It's a snitch," he said, looking at him.

"I'm glad you recognise it, considering you've been playing seeker for the last three years."

The boy put the little golden ball back into its box but didn't put it back onto the table. "Thank you. It's– thank you. I love it."

"You're welcome. Finish your breakfast."

H.P.

He really hadn't expected Snape to get him anything. He couldn't get his head around it. It wasn't just any old present either – he'd gotten him a snitch and he hated it when Gryffindor won at Quidditch. What he couldn't work out was why he'd bothered... Did he want some sort of favour? Snape wouldn't just buy him a snitch and expect nothing, would he? The Dursleys had never really done presents. Their acknowledgement of his birthday, if they ever remembered, was more of a joke than anything else. No one gave someone a wire hanger and meant it nicely. This snitch, though, wasn't a joke. It probably cost quite a bit. Why did he even buy it? He said he didn't hate him but that didn't mean he liked him, did it?

"Potter, would you care to join me for a game of chess?"

"What?"

"Chess, Potter. I believe it's time you were acquainted with the real rules of the game."

"I know how to play chess," Harry replied, mildly affronted.

Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry felt the colour rise to his cheeks, remembering when Snape had walked in on him playing his own version of the game.

"We're not doing potions today?"

"We can if you'd prefer."

"No, chess is good," Harry replied quickly. "I'm not very good at it though. Ron always wins when we play, he even beats Hermione."

"I must say I'm surprised that Weasley has a head for strategy."

"Yeah, well, he beat the giant chess set when we went to get the philosopher's stone. He even sacrificed himself to do it."

"That is very impressive for a first year."

"I guess there were three of us, so it was a bit easier to get past it."

Snape set up the board and laid his own pieces out. "Would you like to get yours or play with mine?"

"Um, yours. Mine don't like me much – they'd rather be Ron's." Snape nodded and finished laying all the pieces out. He gave himself the white pieces and gave Harry black.

"Forgive me if I don't name my pieces," Snape said, smirking.

"You ought to, sir, it's more fun," Harry replied, grinning.

Snape moved a pawn. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

"Um, I thought maybe I'd go and see Hagrid and say thanks for the fudge and then I guess I could go flying and take the snitch and practice for a bit," Harry considered, moving his own pawn.

"What would you usually do on your birthday?" Snape casually inquired.

"On my eleventh birthday I found out I was a wizard. That was the day Hagrid took me to diagon alley and we bought all my school stuff. For my thirteenth I got up at night and I opened my presents. I suppose that was the first time I started doing birthday stuff," Harry answered, suprising himself. If he'd been speaking to Remus he wouldn't have admitted that.

"The others?" Snape asked, studying the board for a moment before taking one of Harry's pawns.

"That one was Neville," Harry commented. Snape paused for a moment and Harry was sure he'd seen him smirk.

"I don't regret it in the slightest," Snape replied coolly before repeating his earlier question.

"Um, I didn't really do birthdays back then," Harry said, shrugging as he moved 'Seamus' one space forward.

"What was your reasoning behind that move?" Snape asked, looking at the board, perplexed.

"Dean and Seamus stick together, sir. That and you're going to take me if I move that one forwards."

"Your reasoning is flawed. Perhaps it was not you so much as your relatives," Snape replied. Harry frowned at Snape's attempt to continue the conversation.

"No," Harry replied, his face beginning to colour in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Snape looked supremely unconcerned, studying the board before drawling in a bored voice.

"Mr. Potter, I did meet them and you informed me that they gave you a used pair of socks and a hanger as a gift. It is your move."

Harry moved a piece, relieved that Snape wasn't making an issue out of it. He supposed based on what he said it was a logical assumption. "We don't get on, sir."

"Understandable."

Snape moved another piece. "We'll be dining in the Great Hall this afternoon."

"How come?"

"The headmaster thought you might appreciate it. Any member of the faculty staying in the castle will be there."

"He didn't need to do that for me," Harry muttered.

"Mr. Finnegan may well regret that move," Snape commented as Harry took one of his pieces.

"It was sacrificial, sir. I can't finish this game without taking any of your pieces. That would be embarrassing."

"It's not everyday that you turn fourteen," Snape said, returning once again to their previous conversation.

"It's no big deal, sir."

"I beg to differ, but no matter."

"I really like my snitch, sir," Harry said once again.

"I'm aware, Mr. Potter, but it is 'no big deal'."

After spending the majority of the afternoon with Hagrid he played with his practice snitch. It was great to finally have something to use when he went flying. He couldn't get into the school snitches so he'd just been practising his moves before, but now he could really practice playing. He played until he had absolutely had no time left and had to run back down to the dungeons to meet Snape.

"Get changed, Potter," Snape ordered from the doorway to his own room. Harry figured that he must have been brewing if he changed his robes. They were the same black robes he always wore, so it wasn't like he was dressing up for the occasion.

"What, why?"

"You've got grass stains all over you. You're not going to the hall like that."

"Oh. Fine, I'll be five minutes."

Harry threw himself into his room and got changed as quickly as possible before dashing out at the same speed.

When they reached the Great Hall Harry stopped to take in the sight. He'd never seen the Great Hall decorated for a birthday. There was only one table where the teachers were sat and hovering above it were five snitch shaped balloons and a large 'Happy Birthday Harry' banner. Harry's jaw dropped and he stopped in the doorway. He must have stopped for too long because Snape pushed him forwards slightly. "Just go sit down," he hissed quietly.

Harry was jolted back to his senses and he walked quickly towards the table and settled opposite Professor Flitwick.

"Hello, my boys. Happy birthday Harry!" Dumbledore called to them from a few seats down.

Harry turned to look at Snape who had taken a seat beside him and smirked at the fact that Dumbledore had referred them both in exactly the same way. "Thanks, sir."

There weren't many people in the castle. The only teachers at the table were Dumbledore, Flitwick, Sprout, Snape and Harry. Hagrid had been busy and seeing as Harry had seen him for lunch he couldn't begrudge him his absence. Professor Flitwick asked what Harry had got from his birthday.

"Um, I got some sweets from Ron, Hagrid made me some Fudge, Hermione got me a book and Professor Snape got me a snitch," Harry said, trying to remember if that was everything. "Oh, and Mrs. Weasley made me a cake."

"A snitch, Severus?" Professor Flitwick asked, obviously surprised.

Harry pulled it out of his pocket, not entirely sure why he hadn't left it behind.

"A practice snitch, even," Flitwick exclaimed. Snape didn't say anything but he looked irritated.

"Are they different?" Harry asked.

Professor Flitwick turned towards him. "There are slight differences in the charms on the two snitches. A practice snitch only works for one person and is attuned to their seeking style. It is used to improve your game."

"So it'll actually make me better? That's really cool."

"If you practice enough," Professor Flitwick nodded. "I'm surprised you're willing to improve the Gryffindor seeker's performance," he commented to Snape."

I am confident that Slytherin will continue to best Gryffindor no matter how much their game is improved."

"I suspect it's been nice to have the run of the castle," Professor Sprout chimed in.

"It's okay. I went to the beach on Saturday though, that was better," Harry responded, embarrassed to be the focus of attention, especially seeing as everyone around the table was one of his teachers.

"Ah, with Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, Professor Snape took me with him when he went to get some ingredients."

"Did he now?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Is there a reason we aren't eating, headmaster?" Snape said, changing the subject.

"We're waiting on Sybil, Severus."

"I didn't know you fetched your own ingredients, Severus. Does the school budget not cover them?" Professor Sprout asked.

"It was for a personal project," Snape replied coldly.

Harry noticed that Snape looked angry – angrier than he usually did in the company of other people, at least. Dumbledore looked almost smug at his discomfort and Harry couldn't help but think that Snape hadn't actually needed to go to the beach, they had stayed way longer than was necessary and Snape had only been summoning seaweed for about ten minutes. It was obvious that Snape didn't want people to know though, so he figured he should probably say something.

"We went to Cornwall to get seaweed."

"Enough, Potter," Snape hissed angrily.

"Seaweed, Severus?" Professor Flitwick asked and Dumbledore looked hard pressed to conceal his mirth. "I thought seaweed was used just for–"

"I've no doubt, Filius, that we could all learn from your expert potions knowledge. I wasn't aware that you continued the subject past O.W.L.," Severus said, throwing a harsh glare across the table.

Professor Flitwick fell silent. Harry glanced at Dumbledore who gave him a small smile. Well, if he wasn't sure before he was certain now. Snape had made up needing to go to the beach because Remus had to work. That was so... un-Snapeish. Harry didn't notice he was staring at the man until Professor Trelawney wandered in blathering on about her inner eye and Harry rolled both of his own.

"Oh, dear child, another birthday passed! I was crystal gazing–"

"No doubt, Sybil, but we'd all like to eat so perhaps we could order," Dumbledore interrupted, noticing that the look on Snape's face was murderous.

Order? Harry watched all the teachers pick up a card next to their plate, reading off the meal of their choice. Harry felt a bit self-conscious as he followed suit, seeing as everyone else had done it ten seconds earlier. The moment he had ordered the meal appeared on his plate and Harry began devouring it hungrily.

"Chew, Potter, it's not going anywhere," Snape said, giving him an almost disgusted look as he all but inhaled his meal. He could hardly help it if he was starving, could he? He'd been out flying all afternoon. Harry shot him an irritated look but tried to slow down his eating. It was a bit dull as all the teachers got absorbed into various conversations that didn't interest him in the slightest and Harry tried not to catch Professor Trelawney's eye in case she started predicting his death again.

"How are you getting on with your homework, Mr Potter?" Professor Flitwick asked once he'd finished his discussion with the headmaster. Harry had to choke down another massive bite of his food before he could reply, earning him another scowl from Snape who was steadfastly ignoring Professor Trelawney as she spoke at him.

"I'm all done."

"Already? That's marvellous. If you'd like me to look over it in the holidays you're quite welcome, Mr. Potter."

"That's okay, sir. Professor Snape's had a look for me." And he's mental if he thinks I'm doing another bloody draft, Harry finished silently.

S.S.

Severus' hand was itching to pull out his wand and silencio the idiotic woman sitting alongside him. She rarely dined with the rest of the faculty so why today of all days she decided to grace them all with her presence was beyond him and the woman just would not shut up!

Beside him, Potter choked on his treacle tart and the Headmaster shot him a reproving look. He must have said that last bit out loud... Perhaps he was more tired than he thought. At least the imbecilic woman had gone back to her food.

Potter yawned beside him and he needed no further encouragement to declare that it was time they returned to his quarters.

"Sir?"

"What, Potter?" Severus snarled as they walked through the dungeons.

"Nothing," came his rather sullen reply.

It was bad enough that Snape had to attend the damn meal. He lived with the boy, he ate dinner with him everyday, but they ridiculed him before there was even food on his plate. There was no doubt that the boy was suspicious, the way he kept looking at him was infuriating. As if he didn't know what potions seaweed was used in. He was the Potions Master in this school!

At least one thing had gone well that day. The boy had spoken to him and they'd broached the topic of his relatives quite successfully. Snape couldn't help but feel a small amount of smugness that he was the one talking to the boy about his relatives when the boy positively fled from the wolf and his godfather. They may not have gotten far but it was a step in the right direction.