The moment Albus walked through the door of Severus’ office, Severus sealed the door quickly and silenced the surrounding area.

Harry was safely occupied in the library, and considering the extent of the tracking charms on both the child and every entrance to the house, Severus would be immediately notified in the unlikely event that Harry attempted to leave.

If the child dared to be so foolish… Severus thought wryly as he sat across from Albus, who was settling into the large, purple armchair he so often conjured. Severus focused upon the older man’s bright-blue, alert gaze.

“Regarding my pending guardianship of Harry,” Severus began, steepling his hands. “Assuming it will come to fruition…”

“I do not foresee any difficulties in that regard,” Albus said confidently. “The eyes and ears I have in the Ministry should successfully override any concerns regarding your less-than-stellar background.”

Severus nodded. He had not expected any less.

“Of course, you will wish to speak with Harry first?” Albus inquired.

“Indeed.”

Albus clasped his hands together. “I had hoped,” he began, “that you might make an attempt to convince the child to speak with me as well.”

The older man’s eyes looked shadowed.

“I will,” Severus said slowly. “However, the decision will be left entirely in his hands.”

“Of course.”

Neither of them spoke for several moments.

“What of my position, Albus?” said Severus, his words a harsh splicing of the contemplative silence.

Albus simply looked at him with a questioning gaze. Severus didn’t buy it for a moment.

“I am a death eater, Albus,” Severus bit out. “Or, rather, I will play the part of one upon the Dark Lord’s return. Harry will be put at risk, and I will not have it.”

Albus gave him a steady nod, but did not speak. Severus ground his teeth.

“Is it not obvious to you how the Dark Lord will view the situation?” Severus didn’t pause for an answer. “He will either distrust me, which will undoubtedly end in my death, or he will expect me to use the child for his ends.” His shoulders tightened at the thought.  “I will sooner flee the wizarding world with Harry than put him in harm’s way.”

Severus stopped, his breathes short and angered.

Finally, Albus spoke.

“I foresaw that occurrence the very moment I found Harry in London.”

Severus then said the most inane thing he had spoken since his early years at Hogwarts. Or, rather, since they day he had verbally accepted the Dark Mark from the psychopath to whom he was eternally bound.

“Pardon?”

Albus continued. “I did not make the decision to place Harry in your care lightly. I anticipated that you might form a bond with him, and even if you had not, your relationship with him would still be closer than that of a school teacher.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Then why was he placed in my care?”

“There was no other option,” said Albus, his expression infuriatingly placid. “I knew it the moment I sensed the collapse of the wards on Privet Drive. Admittedly, I am still unsure of the reason they remained intact despite Harry having left the home long before the demise of his relatives…” His eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

“What do you expect of me, Albus?” Severus cut it. “I will not see Harry put at risk, physical or emotional.”

“Nor will I, which is why I insist he remain in your care.”

“Then what of my position?” Severus responded, frustrated beyond belief.

“Severus,” Albus said softly. “I have long been prepared for the eventuality that you would be unable to reprise your role as a spy.”

“If not I, then who else?”

“I’d rather not speak of it just yet, but rest assured that I view your role as Harry’s guardian to be far more vital than your eventual spying position.”

Severus stared. He could do nothing else.

“Why, you ask?” Albus continued. “Certainly, your temperament and skills are more fit for spying than parenting.”

“Indeed-”

“Because Harry is thriving in your care, Severus. He positively glows with it.”

Severus froze. “If you knew of the mistakes I have made with him-”

“Yet he trusts you, far more than I thought possible when I first met him,” Albus cut in softly. “When I found him in London, Harry was so consumed by pain and rage that his aura was tainted with it.”

Severus closed his eyes.

“Your care for him has cleansed him of the overwhelming pain.” No, he is not free of it all,” Albus said quickly when Severus made to interrupt. “That will take years. But he glows. I see it even when the boy positively glares at me with distrust.”

Severus swallowed.

“Harry needs you,” Albus said softly. “And it is high time that the child gets what he needs.”

-

Snape was letting Harry brew this time instead of scrubbing cauldrons and sorting ingredients. It had been a while since he’d done so, and he was enjoying the calming focus that came with the activity.

Stir in four ounces of powdered ivory…

Harry stirred steadily, feeling more relaxed than he had in quite a long time. He set the potion to simmer and turned to his chopping board to slice the dandelion roots.

“Harry?”

Harry raised his head.

“Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you. I am not insisting you do so,” Snape said quickly when Harry stiffened. “However, I will remain in the room for the duration of the meeting should you accept his request.”

Why does he want to speak with me?” Harry asked, tense.

He’s taking me away. Snape’s giving me back. No. Nonono.

“Harry?”

Harry jumped wildly when Snape touched his shoulder. He hadn’t reacted that way in a while. Snape drew his hand back sharply, then quickly set both their potions on stasis.

“What is troubling you, Harry?” Snape asked, standing a few feet away and looking somewhat troubled himself. Harry felt a bit guilty for jumping at Snape’s touch. It wasn’t him Harry was frightened of.

Harry swallowed, unsure of what to say. He folded his arms across his chest and scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe.

Snape sighed.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m always causing trouble.

“Harry, I do not like to see you upset.”

Snape’s words struck a chord in Harry, helping him find his voice.

“I’m afraid that he’ll take me away,” Harry said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

Snape looked surprised.

“Why would you presume such a thing?”

Harry bit his lip, twitching his shoulder.

“Harry, I do not understand your reasoning, but Professor Dumbledore has absolutely no conceivable reason to remove you from my home. It was he who brought you here, was it not?”

Harry’s eyes shifted from the floor, to Snape’s shoulder, then back again.

Just tell him, it’s better if he knows, he might be able to prevent it.

“He only brought me here because you didn’t want me,” Harry started. Snape looked even more troubled at that and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry went on.

“He left me with the Dursleys and they hated me, and when they died he brought me here because you hated me, and now that you don’t any longer, he’ll give me to someone who does,” Harry said that all in one breath, eyes on the ground and fists clenched.

He chanced a glance up at Snape, who looked more taken aback than Harry had ever seen. That wasn’t saying much, considering how few emotions Snape regularly expressed, but still…

“Harry, that is entirely untrue,” Snape started.

Harry raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“Then what is he trying to do? What’s his game?”

“Why do you presume that he is, to utilize your term, ‘playing games’?” Snape asked.

“He left me with them!” Harry said hotly. “I know, it said in a book I read. Who just dumps a kid somewhere and never checks up on them? He had to have known what they did to me.”

Snape was silent for a moment.

“Harry, I do not know why Albus did not keep a closer eye on you, and I certainly do not understand how he could have missed the fact that you spent months living on the streets of London,” He took a step closer to Harry. “But I can say with absolute certainty that he did not intend for you to be hurt.”

Harry shrugged, entirely disbelieving.

“Speak with Professor Dumbledore, Harry. Indeed, I would as well like to know what the old man was thinking.”

-

So there they were, just two hours later, Harry and Dumbledore seated across from each other while Snape stood to the side, several paces away.

Dumbledore had not attempted to exchange any pleasantries when he walked in; he simply gave Harry a small smile, who stared back at him, stone-faced, and seated himself on a couch.

They remained quiet for several moments until Harry broke the silence.

“What do you want from me?” Harry asked in a hard voice and an unwavering gaze. “I can’t give it to you.”

Dumbledore looked nonplussed, but Harry didn’t buy it for a second.

“I just want you to be safe, Harry. That is all I ever wanted for you.”

Harry laughed humorlessly.

“Safe? I almost died, I wanted to die more times than I can remember.” His voice grew louder and more biting. “Voldemort would have taken better care of me than they did.”

Dumbledore looked as though he might cry.

“Harry, I honestly had no idea. Had I had an inkling of your treatment in that house, you would have been immediately removed-”

“And shipped off to another person who hated me? That’s what you did, isn’t it?” Harry said as Dumbledore opened his mouth.

“Professor Snape didn’t want me, he hated me at first. I suppose you win points for him not taking pleasure in torturing me,” Harry drew in a sharp breath. “He ended up being good to me, so are you now going to find someone new?

Harry was shaking, but he was no longer frightened. 

“Harry,” Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. “I truly, truly, did not know.”

“How could you not know? Aren’t you supposed to be the greatest wizard in the country or something?”

Dumbledore shook his head slightly. “Power does not immunize one from mistakes.”

“So this was all a mistake?”

“I am only human, Harry.”

“Human? I’m also human, and human five-year-olds shouldn’t be starved and thrown down the stairs. Human eight-year-olds shouldn’t have their ribs cracked and faces bashed in and-” Harry’s voice grew quiet. “I guess the Boy-Who-Lived is an exception.”

“Harry-”

“Well, I’m not anyone’s savior, I’m not going to kill the bloody dark lord for you when he gets resurrected or whatever it is. I just want to be left alone.”

 Harry’s voice cracked on that last sentence, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

No. I am not going to start crying right now.

With some effort, he pulled himself together, but he was done talking.

“Harry,” Dumbledore tried again. When Harry didn’t cut in, he continued, gazing earnestly at him.

“I have no excuse. I cannot begin to offer you a reasonable explanation for my gross negligence of your well-being. Something so very precious was entrusted to me, and I did not live up my responsibility.”

Harry didn’t say a word.

“I am not asking for your forgiveness,” Dumbledore continued. “I am not asking for your trust. All I ask is that you not fear that I will steal your happiness from you.” The way I have done in the past. He did not say the words aloud, but they hovered in the air, as apparent and obvious as if he had shouted them.

Harry didn’t move. His gaze was focused on the wooden floor, which was so impeccably polished that he could make out his reflection.

So this was what his whole life came down to. A mistake brought about amid the shaky and confusing aftermath of a war. He was left where he would be kept safe, set aside like an expensive, polished diamond might be stored away. Except it hadn’t quite worked out, and he was only alive as a result of luck, a friend, a bit of magic, and perhaps a touch of inner strength.

There had been no purpose for his suffering, and although it should have made Harry feel better, he wasn’t sure if it did.

Dumbledore did not seem surprised at his lack of a response. He rose from his seat, and Harry looked up.

“Your parents would be so proud if they could see you now, Harry.”

He’s saying that? After everything I just yelled at him?

Harry said nothing.

Dumbledore gave Harry a sad smile, which he did not return, then walked over to Snape and wordlessly handed him a sealed scroll of parchment. The two men stared at one another for several moments, seeming to communicating wordlessly.

The silver-haired man then turned and swept toward the fireplace, his teal-colored robes flowing out behind him. When he finally vanished in a flash of flames, Harry slumped in his seat, covering his face with his hands.

“Harry-” Snape started, moving closer to Harry. Harry shook his head slightly, indicating that he needed a moment.

Okay, okay, he’s gone, he’s not taking me away. Get ahold of yourself.

Harry lifted his head, face mercifully dry. Snape was watching him steadily, still clutching the scroll of parchment Dumbledore had given him.

“How long have you been under the impression than Albus wished you harm?” he asked.

Harry furrowed his brow. “A while.”

Harry then recalled the moment in the library when he had discovered Dumbledore’s actions, the anger growing so intense that he had overturned the room.

“It was the day I destroyed the library.”

“Ah,” Snape said, understanding dawning. “That would certainly explain that day’s occurrence.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Are you sufficiently reassured that he does not intend to harm you?”

Harry nodded. He didn’t trust the man, but he did think Dumbledore had been sincere in his statements and apologies.

“Good.”

Snape slipped the scroll of parchment into the pocket of his robes.

“It is unfortunate that you had been so fearful of Albus for this long.” I wish you had told me, remained unstated.

Harry wished he had, too.

-

Harry watched apprehensively as Snape set a fat textbook, a roll of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell in front of him where he was seated in a small desk in Snape’s office.

Right. He was still being grounded.

“Turn to chapter nine and copy.” The man sat down at his own desk to begin working.

Harry opened the book and flipped the pages.

Chapter Nine: The Dangers of Meddling with Unfamiliar Enchantments... Oh.

Harry unrolled the parchment and lifted his quill. He paused.

How do I write with this?

Right. He had never written with a quill. What was the point, anyway? Pens had been invented for a reason.

Shrugging, Harry dipped the quill’s tip into the inkwell and set it over his parchment. Black droplets marred the clean surface. He set the quill to the paper, promptly poking a hole through it. He clenched his teeth in frustration.

“I should be hearing the scratching of a quill, Harry.”

Harry muttered under his breath.

“Harry,” Snape said in a warning tone.

Harry exhaled.

“I don’t know how,” he said, frustrated.

Snape raised his head to meet Harry’s eyes.

“I do apologize. I had forgotten.”

He rose and walked over to Harry’s desk.

“May I?” he asked, his right hand hovering over Harry’s.

Harry nodded, and Snape set Harry’s fingers to grip the quill properly. One Harry had successfully written a shaky line of text with the quill, Snape stepped back and snatched up the textbook.

“Just practice the alphabet for now.”

Harry nodded, that warm, protected feeling he only ever felt with Snape engulfing him.

Snape left him to it, and it did not take Harry very long to become accustomed to using a quill. Although his writing was slower and messier than it was with a pen, Harry felt pleased with his progress.

Snape looked over his work and then nodded approvingly at him.

“Well done, Harry. You do catch on quickly.”

Harry blushed, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“Thank you for showing me how.”

“It was no trouble.”

Snape looked at him oddly for several moments.

“Harry-” He paused, seeming unsure of how to phrase his next words.

“Harry, there is something of import I wish to discuss with you, if you would join me in the sitting room.”

Harry felt immediately anxious, and he attempted to quell his nerves as he followed Snape out of the room.

Calm down, he’s not sending you away. We’ve been over this…

If anything, it seemed that Snape was the nervous one. Not that the man made it obvious, but he was holding himself more stiffly than usual, and when he sat across from Harry in his usual seat, his facial expression appear a bit too controlled.

Harry waited patiently for the man to begin.

Snape leaned forward slightly.

“Harry, as the start of the school year approaches, your routine will obviously change, and you will no longer be living with me or under my supervision.”

Harry stiffened. Snape was voicing the thoughts he had been pushing to the back of his mind for a while now. One he started school, Snape wouldn’t be there. And he wouldn’t necessarily end up being Harry’s head of house, so he would have no responsibility over him at all.

Where will I go next summer and during holidays?

“Harry?”

Harry focused on Snape, breathing carefully.

“That, however, is not to my liking.”

Harry’s eyes widened the tiniest bit.

“I am of the opinion that you do need an adult, other than teachers, to take responsibility for you and your well-being.”

Harry felt a jolt in his chest.

“Are you with me, Harry?”

Harry nodded quickly.

“Over the past months, I have become quite accustomed to your company, and-” he paused, his expression becoming slightly guarded and discomfited. “I have come to care very deeply for you, Harry.”

Harry stared unblinkingly into Snape’s eyes.

“You are in need of a proper guardian, Harry, and with your consent, I would like to be that person.”

Harry couldn’t talk. He could scarcely breathe.

He wants me? He wants to be my guardian?

“Of course, if you would prefer another arrangement…” Snape began stiffly.

Harry shook his head frantically and tried to speak, but he seemed to have temporarily lost the ability. He sat there, frozen, terrified that if he didn’t say something, Snape would rescind on his offer.

There was only one thing he could do.

His rose from his seat and walked slowly over to Snape to stand before him. Reaching forward hesitantly, he wrapped his fingers tightly around Snape’s wrist with a shaky hand.

He met Snape’s eyes.

“Yes,” he finally whispered.

Harry saw a shadow of a true smile cross Snape’s face.

He wants me.

Harry felt Snape’s hand wrap around his own, a warm and familiar grip that seemed to encase Harry’s instinctively. As though it belonged there.

He looked up to meet the man’s dark gaze, and he was met with the familiar warmth and caring he knew would be there.

That he could trust would always be there.