Severus watched Potter the first day back from Christmas break. The boy looked sick, he noticed. He had an ashen look about him, he was jumpy, and clearly there was something seriously wrong. Whatever had transpired at his relatives house over Christmas clearly had taken a toll on him. He might hate the boy, and he might detest the idea of adopting him, but he still didn't like to see anyone in that state. There wasn't much Dumbledore could have done to deny the brat's relatives' wishes, Severus knew, but saying he thought it most unfortunate that Potter had to would be an understatement. Even if he hated the boy, he tried to have some compassion, though he tried to tell himself that he was only doing this for the cause, because he had to protect Potter to protect the world.

Finally, the paperwork had been completed. The infernal adoption was scheduled for that night, and Dumbledore had sent the brat a note telling him to come to the Headmaster's office. Albus would be conducting the ceremony and Potter wouldn't know what was going on until he arrived, because Severus wanted to spare him as much anxiety over it as possible. By the time he figured out what was going on, the ceremony would be over, and the deal would be done. There was no undoing it. Severus silenced an annoying voice in the back of his mind that said it was a bit unfair to force this on the boy.

.oO-Oo.

"Come in!" Dumbledore called at Harry's nervous knock. Harry stepped in, and saw Snape glowering at him, and Dumbledore smiling. Whatever this was about, Harry had a suspicion that it wasn't what he would call good.

"Yes, sir? You wanted to see me, sir?" Harry said, nervously glancing at Snape. Snape's gaze bored into him. Harry wondered if this was about his Occlemency performance. He knew he was terrible at it, but what else could he do?

"Yes, I did, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Or rather, Severus did. I think you'll have to explain it to him now, Severus." Definitely Occlemency.

"Why, thank you," Severus drawled sarcastically. "Potter. I'm adopting you, by a blood adoption. It's the only way you're going to be disciplined right apparently, since your relatives never did a good job. It will be the only way for you to ever have the slimmest hope of scraping by at Occlemency. The Headmaster approved this. You will continue to be called Harry Potter, even if your name legally will be Harry Snape. Do you understand?"

Harry's jaw worked up and down, but he couldn't make himself say anything. Adopted by Snape. His first thought was to jump up and down and even hug his potions professor. He wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys. Not ever. His second thought was that Snape was going to kill him.

"Yes, sir," he finally said, his voice void of any tone.

"Good," Snape said. "Then let us proceed with the ceremony." Dumbledore took out an ornate knife, decorated in rubies and emeralds, and handed it to Snape.

"Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, hereby take responsibility for Harry Potter as your own?"

"I do," Snape said.

"And do you consent to make Harry Potter your own, even in blood?"

"I do." Snape took the knife and cut the palm of his hand. He handed the knife back to Dumbledore, who passed it to Harry. Harry looked nervously at the two men.

"Do I have to?" he whispered.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Do you, Harry James Potter, consent to be adopted by Severus Snape, to be made his own, even in blood?"

"I do," Harry muttered. It wasn't that he wanted to be adopted by a dungeon bat, but Dumbledore told him he had to, and would dying at Snape's hands be any worse than what he currently had to face? Harry didn't think so. But Snape scared him horribly. He felt a rock in his stomach at the thought of being under Snape's care. It might be different than Vernon, and his mind knew it couldn't be worse, but he was scared more by Snape, even if that didn't really make sense.

"Cut your hand, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I can heal it immediately after." Harry did as he was told, and cut the palm of his hand, like Snape had done. Snape reached out and placed Harry's bleeding hand against his own. Dumbledore waved his wand with an incantation, and red and green ribbons wrapped around their wrists. Harry felt Snape's blood enter his cut, and his own enter Snape's. The ribbons bound their hands together with such force that Harry thought if they had tried, they would not have been able to pull apart. After a moment, the ribbons fell away.

"Congratulations, Severus Snape, you have a son," Dumbledore said. "And congratulations, Harry Snape, you have a father." Harry winced at his name. He hated it. It just didn't sound right. He held out his hand and Dumbledore healed it, then headed Snape's hand.

"I'll speak with you later, Mister," Snape paused, "Harry," he finally said, unsure of which last name he should use. "In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you try not to shame the name of Snape too much."

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered, his head down. Snape eyed him cruelly, and then left the room in his usual blustery way. Harry looked at Dumbledore, who was taking his seat behind his desk.

"Please forgive Professor Snape," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure the thought of him having a son is almost as strange for him as you having a father."

"Why did he want this?" Harry hissed.

"I believe that is his business to tell you," Dumbledore said.

"Then you admit there's more to this than Occlemency? Why did you approve this?" Harry pressed again.

"Because I agreed with Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"But he hates me!" Harry objected.

"Not nearly as much as you think," Dumbledore said.

"Why won't anyone tell me what's going on?" Harry screamed. Dumbledore took Harry's outburst in stride. But Harry continued, "Am I really worth that little, that no one tells me what's going on? Why can't I know, just a little bit? I'm pawned off to Snape, without a word of warning, and suddenly I'm his son, I'm not even allowed to keep my real father's name, and I don't know why!"

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Some things need to be explained at the right time, by the right person. And right now, you have neither. Please, Harry, it's time for you to go."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, clearly still miffed. "You all think I'm a weapon in this war, and you forget that I have feelings too," he muttered quietly as he left.

.oO-Oo.

Harry sorted through his stock of potions in his trunk and pulled out a vial of his strongest dreamless sleep. It was the only way he was going to be able to close his eyes that night, he knew. He hated turning to potions for survival, but that was what it was. Survival. He tipped the vial back and swallowed everything in it. Grimacing at the taste, he tossed the bottle back in the drawer, and began to crawl into bed.

"Hey, mate, what's up?" Ron said. Harry jumped clean over the bed and fell on the floor. "Whoa, sorry." Harry scrambled up and brushed himself off. He hadn't meant to react that violently to a simple greeting, but he was on edge from the adoption yet. He felt a strange tingling in blood stream, undoubtedly from the novelty of having Snape's blood in his veins. He wondered if Snape felt as strange as he did at the moment. It surely couldn't be any easier to have your most hated student's blood in you than to have your most hated professor's blood in you.

"Hi, Ron," he said, trying to grin sheepishly.

"Why are you so jumpy?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing," Harry said casually.

"Yeah," Ron said, but his tone spoke the opposite of his words. "So what did Dumbledore want?"

"Just wanted to tell me how important it is to focus on Occlemency," Harry said, getting into bed and pulling the covers up. "Nothing major." He didn't want to admit to having been adopted by Snape. He knew Ron would understand, he knew that Ron wouldn't make fun of him, but he still felt like the choice of parent was because no one else would take him.

"You sure jumped like it was major," Ron observed.

"It's nothing, Ron!" Harry insisted. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night," Ron said, concern obvious in his voice. Harry closed the curtains, and cast the silencing charm. His last thought before the potion knocked him out was that he hated having to close Ron and Hermione out like that.

.oO-Oo.

The next day, Harry worked through his classes on autopilot, just like he always did. He forced himself to eat for Hermione's sake, just like he always did. But after school was out, rather than hiding away in the dorm room, or the common room, just like he always did, he went outside to a large rock near the lake. The weather was unseasonably warm. Harry found it quite comfortable, especially since it was sunny, and the rock was warm. He stared off into the lake.

He was legally Harry Snape now. He grimaced at the thought. No amount of saying it was going to get him used to it. He was Harry Potter, and he would always be Harry Potter. Snape might be able to adopt him, and make him sign his documents "Harry Snape," but it didn't mean he stopped being Harry Potter.

Snape was going to kill him, Harry just knew it. Even if he was a spy for the Light, they still hated each other, and Harry didn't see how this was going to work at all. He was glad to be away from Vernon, very glad, but it didn't make his terror of Snape any less. Harry doubted that Snape was a pervert, but that didn't mean he wasn't sadistic. He began ticking off every possible punishment he could think of.

But all that time, he couldn't stop the panicked mantra of "I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm so dead," from repeating in his mind. The more he dwelled on it, the more frantic he became. He felt rolling waves of panic sweep over his mind, the dark shroud of despair, and finally, the warm blanket of exhaustion.

.oO-Oo.

"Oh, crap," Harry muttered as his eyes flew open. The world had gotten dark as he had slept. He'd slept peacefully for the first time in so long that Harry couldn't remember. No dreams at all. And no potion. Harry felt much refreshed for the snooze, but his mind was still panicking. "Oh, crap! I'm so dead!" He bit his lip and slipped off the rock. Staying out after curfew was specifically forbidden, and he hadn't been in Snape's care for more than twenty-four hours before he royally goofed. Well, delaying it any longer wasn't going to help. He was in such trouble that night and he knew it. Snape would surely have his hide for this.

He walked back to the castle and let himself in. Perhaps no one had noticed he was missing. Perhaps -

"MISTER HARRY POTTER!" McGonagall screeched. Well, so much for that idea.

"Yes, ma'am?" he said.

"Snape, Snape, it's Snape now," she rebuked herself quietly.

"You can call me Potter," Harry offered hopefully.

"Do you realize we've turned the castle upside down looking for you?"

"No, ma'am," Harry said. "Sorry."

"As well you should be," she glowered at him, and Harry made a mental note to never make his head of house mad at him like this again. "Go to Professor Snape's office, right now."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, as he walked down the hall to the much dreaded office. When he got there, he found the door unlocked, but Snape wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere to be seen. Harry looked around. The office held new terrors for him, now that suddenly Snape was his father. His father could do anything to him - his professor couldn't. Each and every shadow seemed to be ready to jump out at him and hurt him in some way. He kept glancing over his shoulder as though something was about to surprise him from behind.

He began to shake with fear, even though he was alone. He felt sick, because he knew Snape would take him apart. Well, there was only one option. He would have to take whatever Snape dealt him in stride. He quickly pulled off his shirt, and undid his belt. It was better to get the beating over with as soon as he could. He hoped - he so hoped - that Snape would be satisfied with beating him. He knew that at the hands of a wizard as capable as Snape, things could be a lot worse. He just hoped it wouldn't go there.

Whether Snape believed it or not, he did command Harry's respect, if for no other reason than Harry's fear. So Harry waited, shirtless, belt in hand, as he waited for Snape to return.

.oO-Oo.

Severus was storming back to his office where he was going to meet the Boy-Who-Wished-He-Hadn't-Lived. At least, that was what Minerva had told Potter to do. Severus might not be fond of the boy, but he was worried about him, once they discovered he'd gone missing, though he kept telling himself that Potter was just sulking over the newest arrangements. Severus felt uncomfortable around Potter. He wasn't sure why, but something about Potter that had changed, and Severus felt uncomfortable around it, whatever it was. All he knew was that it was familiar, yet horrible. And his reaction to uncomfortable was to try to hurt whatever it was that made him that way. It was a simple fear reaction, he knew, to protect himself, but he had sworn not to hurt Potter not matter what. He burst into his office, glaring at him, cape billowing. He slammed the door behind him.

Potter stood contritely before him, quivering ever so slightly, shirtless, holding a belt. Severus could read the clear terror in Potter's eyes.

"Here, sir," Potter said, handing him the belt so quickly that he had to accept it. Harry went over to the wall, and braced himself against it, tightening every muscle. "I hope it's sufficient, sir," Potter continued, nervously stammering, "I didn't have a better one. If it's not suitable, you can use the buckle end. It hurts more."

Severus looked from the belt his hand to the boy braced against the wall, then back to the belt again. Did Potter really think he was going to beat him? Well, Severus supposed, Potter didn't know anything else, and he was the boy's most feared professor, now father. It wasn't like he had done much to inspire confidence in Potter. He'd done everything to make the boy believe that he was ruthless - which he certainly could be. Now Potter was expecting to be just as ruthless as he put on.

"Get over here, Potter," he growled. Cautiously, Potter left his position against the wall, and stood in front of him, clearly shaking in fear. Then the door burst open behind them with a loud bang.

.oO-Oo.

"Severus Snape, what are you doing?" McGonagall shouted. Snape whirled at her, belt still in hand.

"I promise you, it's not what it looks like," he hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure that everything was alright," she said suspiciously. Even she could tell that her Gryffindor was cowering under Snape's merciless gaze. "Harry?" she asked. "Is everything alright?" Harry nodded, still speechless from fear. He didn't want to have to be rescued. He was the rescuer. He was the one supposed to save the wizarding world. How could he be expected to defeat Voldemort if he couldn't even save himself?

"Get out of here, woman," Snape growled.

"If I hear you've hurt him," she threatened, purposely leaving it dangling. Snape sneered at her. Then Minerva turned at left abruptly. Snape turned back to him, coiling the belt around his hand. Harry's eyes followed Snape's movements with ever increasing vigilance.

"What is it you expect me to do with this, Potter?" he said, emphasizing the use of his biological father's name. Potter wrung his hands, and muttered something as he looked at the ground. "Speak clearly!" Snape barked.

"I said, beat me!" Harry replied.

"And why would I beat you?" Snape pushed.

"Because I stayed out past curfew," Harry said, tossing some hair out of his eyes. Maybe it was defiant, but Harry felt he had to do something to keep the last shreds of dignity he had left.

"That's why I should punish you, but why would I beat you?"

"Because - because," Harry stammered, "because you hate me? Because you adopted me so that you could 'discipline me right'? You want to get back at me for something my father did, but I'm not my father." Harry paused for breath. "Either of them."

"Potter," Snape said in his long suffering way, "I am not going to beat you. That is precisely what I meant by proper discipline."

"Sir?" Harry questioned. Snape sighed.

"Were you aware that I saw memories of what your relatives did to you?" Snape asked. Harry paled, and took a couple steps back. Oh, this wasn't good, Harry thought. This really, really wasn't good.

"No, sir," he said. "What did you see?" He was very wary of Snape now. He didn't know what to expect.

"Put your shirt on," Snape said. Harry complied. "And here's your belt. I saw the cupboard, the beatings, and any other number of things." Harry nodded. At least he hadn't seen last summer!

"Yes, sir," Harry said, hanging his head. "I'm sorry, sir."

"For what?" Snape asked, not unkindly, curious. Harry winced anyway.

"For - for that," he said. "For making you adopt me. You didn't want to."

"I'll admit, the thought is rather repulsive," Snape said, "as I'm sure you agree, but there are worse things. Child abuse being one of them."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Why were you out past curfew?" Snape continued.

"I fell asleep, sir," Harry said. "I didn't do it on purpose." Like Snape would ever believe that.

"I see," Snape said. "Why did you fall asleep?"

"I was tired?"

"Why?"

"I haven't been sleeping well, okay?" Harry snapped. It came out sharper than he meant it. "Sorry," he muttered, guarding his eyes, and looking at the ground, only risking a glance up at Snape every few seconds. Only when he felt that it was safer to know Snape's expression than to keep the meek body language.

"Why haven't you been sleeping well?" Harry mumbled something. "Speak up!" Snape hissed impatiently.

"Nightmares," Harry repeated.

"Of?"

"Stuff. Really, it's nothing." Harry began to take a couple steps back. He was scared of the questions Snape was asking. Snape was getting too close to the truth, and Harry somehow knew that he wouldn't be able to lie to Snape. It wasn't because Snape could tell if he was lying. It was because he simply didn't feel he could lie to Snape. But he couldn't tell Snape either. "Please, just leave me alone."

.oO-Oo.

He looked like he was bordering on a full nervous breakdown, Severus realized. Something was definitely more wrong with the boy than he had initially thought. Potter was hiding something from him, something serious. It didn't take an expert to see that Potter was starving himself over something too. One look at him prepared for the beating that would never come told him that.

"You need to tell me what's wrong!" he shouted.

"I can't, sir!" Potter said, finally breaking down to sobs. "I can't!" Potter covered his face with his hands.

"Tell me!" Severus tried again urgently. "You have to tell me!" Whatever it was, Severus wondered if perhaps it was beyond Potter's ability to speak of it. He would still try though.

"How? I can't!" Potter sobbed again.

"One sentence at a time," Severus said, calmer now, leaning against his desk. Scaring the boy further wasn't going to make it any easier to get answers. "Answer me one question at a time. Who is involved in this particular something?"

"Vernon and me," Potter said. He'd stopped crying, and taken his hands away from his face, but he was still looking at the ground. Potter was breathing raggedly and swallowing, trying to retain some sort of control over himself. Severus didn't expect Potter's weak grasp on control to last very long. He needed to get answers before Potter lost it for good.

"I see," Severus said. "Was it something he did to you?"

"Yes, sir," Potter said.

"What was it?" Severus notice Potter try to say it several times, but nothing came out. "Relax," he instructed, his voice taking on a deep, calm tone. "Breathe. Try to occlude. Just tell me."

"Rape," Potter finally said. Severus stood up immediately, clearly surprised. He didn't say anything for a moment.

"You? What? No," Severus finally stammered. Potter winced.

"I told you to leave me alone," he whispered.

"That's exactly the last thing you need!" Severus said, still alarmed. "How long?"

"The summer, and break," he shrugged. Severus nodded.

"Do you know why?"

"Yes, sir," Potter said. "Petunia has an affair, and won't sleep with Vernon. He turned to pornography, and then wanted to make it real. With me." Potter began to cry again, but it was just tears that silently ran down his cheeks, as he looked up at him. Potter was an image so pitiful that even Severus couldn't help noticing it. But what could he say to Potter?

"Pornography is a lie," Severus said quietly.

"I know," Potter said.

"Of course."

"You can go away now," Potter had the arrogance to say, though he didn't look arrogant as he said it. He looked like he actually expected him to go away, to leave him. "I know you don't want to deal with me, or this. I wouldn't blame you for giving me back to the Dursleys. Blood adoption might be permanent, but you can always back out. There's no rule saying that your son needs to live with you."

"I don't take my commitments that lightly, Potter," he said gently.

"I know," Potter said. "I release you from your commitment."

"I appreciate the gesture, Potter," Snape said sincerely, "but I did what I did with forethought, and I have no intention of taking you up on the offer."

"But there's no way you can understand. It's just not possible. You can't understand." Severus walked close to Potter, only a few feet away from him. Potter stood a full head shorter than he did, and it seemed like more, the way the boy was cowering still. Severus looked at him for a couple minutes, assessing the situation in silence. His eyes were cold, but his mind was working quickly.

"But I do, Harry," Severus finally said, taking that last step towards him, and bringing the crying child into an warm embrace. The boy began to cry into his robes, as Potter's arms reached around him, returning the gesture. "I do."