The bitter winter air hit Snape's face as he opened the window. The weak sunlight entered the room, falling on the single twin bed adorned with red and blue silk covers. A small figure in it shivered and turned over.

"Get up," Snape said, dourly. "Don't waste my time and get dressed."

"It's Saturday," a voice said, sulkily.

"I am aware of it," Snape went towards the bed, pulling back the covers.

Harry Potter peered sullenly at him, eyes drooping sleepily. "You're so mean," he yawned.

"Mm," Snape helped him out of the bed. The small boy threw his arms around him when he was finally out and standing on the floor.

"Will we go shopping today?" He asked.

"If you wish it,"

Harry smiled. Snape walked off to the kitchen to make breakfast as Harry changed into his clothes.

Fully dressed, he walked out of the room to the kitchen. Sitting at the table, he looked around and breathed in.

"Thank-you." He said, quietly.

"For what?" Snape asked, as he sat at the table too, waiting for the food to cook.

"For decorating this place. It's looks wonderful," Harry waved his arms, encompassing the beige walls and the clean slabs of the kitchen. The table beneath him was shining with polish.

Long gone was the chipped paint, the awful state of the stove. Harry had wished the house to be renovated and Snape had done so.

"I simply had to wave my wand," Snape said, opening the newspaper. He seemed to be in a quiet mood today. "You never have to thank me for things like these."

Harry didn't say anything. When Severus was in one of his moods it was best not to argue with him much. The man had had a rough past, and Harry was grateful for him doing so much for him. For raising him for eight full years.

Harry was a very skinny ten-year old. His black hair was untidy and thick and his eyes were as green as ever, hidden behind glasses Severus had bought him when he was five or six.

Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the school he would go to when he was eleven, told him that Severus hadn't been very happy to get him glasses as they reminded him unpleasantly of his father-Harry's father-James Potter.

Oddly enough, Harry didnt like hearing about his father that much. He wanted to believe that Severus was his father, however sarcastic and sulky he was towards him sometimes.

Severus had been very good to him, had comforted him in times of trouble, and, all in all, had been as great a father as James Potter would have been.

Harry was not very tall, though he had long, knobbly legs. Snape kept remarking that if he ate as much "junk food" as he did, he would remain this height forever. Harry didn't find this very funny.

Harry liked the way Severus looked. Maybe he really was his real father somehow, because Severus was thin too, and he had black hair like him, even if the texture was completely different.

Even though Harry didn't keep a very devoted view of James Potter, he was very keen to know all about his mother, Lily Potter.

Lily Potter had green eyes too, and she was the only woman Severus spoke about without disdain. Well, whenever Harry begged him to speak about her anyway.

"Did you like her?" He used to ask when he was younger.

"Yes, we were friends,"

"Did you love her?"

"Go to bed, you wretched boy, it's half past ten." The reply almost always was.

"And my room," Harry said suddenly, breaking the sleepy silence. "Thanks for my room."

"I thought I told you to stop thanking me for things like that," Snape didn't emerge from his newspaper, staring fixedly at a news report.

Harry's room was painted a bright blue and had a dresser, a bed, a colourful rug, and a box full of toys and his belongings.

"I'm gong to thank you for whatever I want." Harry said, cheerily. "You're the best father in the world,"

Severus flinched and didn't reply. Harry knew that he didn't like to be known as his father, even though he had adopted him as a baby. He hated the title.

"Have you done your homework?" Snape changed the subject, putting down the newspaper.

"No," Harry stared at the floor, suddenly nibbling his bottom lip anxiously.

"Potter-"

"Harry," Harry snapped.

"Harry," Snape said, the word spoken a little sourly, though Harry could still hear the small hint of adoration in it. "If you do not wish to go to that Muggle school I am fine with it. I myself never had a good experience over there-"

"I have to, Dad." Harry said miserably, even as Snape winced once more. "Professor Dumbledore told me that I need to learn basic things before going to Hogwarts."

"It won't be that long, and you'll be gone," And Snape's voice was strangely nostalgic, as if he had already said these words sometime in the past. These words, spoken so many times, were like a quote to Harry, though it was only a simple sentence.

"Will I be able to do magic like you?"

"Yes." Snape said, shortly. He got up and got the bowl of porridge and bacon, setting it down in front of Harry.

Harry began to eat eagerly.

"Dad?" He asked with a full mouth, hoping Severus would not flinch as it was getting on his nerves now. "Dad, will I make friends?"

"Of course you will. You're Harry Potter, are you not?"

Harry was very quiet when he heard this. He ate silently for a few seconds, processing this strange sentence. He knew why he was famous, and how his parents were killed. His past creeped him out to be honest, and he didn't know how to feel about it.

But whenever Harry thought of his gloomy past, his thoughts branched out towards how Severus had taken him in. Though Snape was quiet on the matter, Harry managed to get more and more information every time he asked him.

"I don't want to be Harry Potter," Harry said, looking up at Snape's face which betrayed no emotion. "I want to be Harry Snape. Yours. You adopted me!"

"I had no choice at that time." Snape said, repressively. "I am not your father boy, no matter what fantasies you harbour. I am your guardian. Why don't you understand that?"

"I don't want you to be my guardian!' Harry shrieked. "I want you to be my father!"

"Your father was none other than James Potter," Severus spat in disgust. "Dumbledore would have told you to be proud of being the offspring of that Gryffindor..."

"Why do you hate me?" Harry demanded. "Why can't you like me?"

Snape's eyes flashed. Harry was flushing angrily. "I thought you cared for me. Dumbledore told me you promised to take care of me because you cared for me!"

Snape laughed bitterly. "So that's what he's up to when you go visit."

Harry stared at him in horror, made a choking sound like a sob, and left the kitchen, his meal left unfinished.

Snape stared angrily at the door even as he remembered the vows he had made to himself after the mishap of Harry being kidnapped as a baby. He had promised Dumbledore that he would care for him-and that time he had been guilty and sad, but now, seeing Harry grow up to be more and more like James Potter...his fury was uncoiling.

It wasn't like he didn't like Harry. He, admittedly, did care for him and hated it when he started crying. He did all he could for him for Lily's sake, and sometimes for the boy's sake too because he was not a cruel man. But love? Seeing him as his son? The world would not end so soon.

But the more he sat there thinking about this, the more guilty be felt. He stood up and went to Harry's room, opening the door carefully.

Harry was huddled on his bed, shaking though he wasn't crying out loud. When Snape stepped inside the room, Harry turned around with tears slowly flowing down his face.

Snape stood staring awkwardly and then, sighing, went to the bed and sat down at the edge. Harry flinched slightly and shifted away.

"Potter-Harry, calm down now." Snape commanded.

Harry didn't respond, snivelling.

Snape sighed once more, and suddenly did something strange-he held out his hands and Harry immediately fell into the embrace.

"I love you, Dad," Harry said, shakily. "'M sorry."

"No need to apologise," Snape sighed. 

"Don't you love me too?" Harry whimpered.

"Fine," Snape said, reluctantly. "I love you too. But don't get this into your head and fantasise all the more. When you are old, Harry, you will have to leave."

"Never," Harry said into his chest.

Snape sighed and didn't say anything more.

After a few seconds of this, Snape said softly, "Take out your school bag. Let's finish all that homework, eh?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said, nodding obediently.

XXX

"I swear I'm going to smack you now," Snape was shouting. "You have to carry the numbers! Carry!"

"I'm not good at it okay!" Harry shouted.

"I would have thought you'd have learned by now!" Snape hissed. "You are doing this deliberately because I mocked your drawing skills,"

"My picture was amazing. Art's the only subject I'm good at," Harry snapped, looking like he would cry once more. He knew Snape got driven crazy when he cried. Snape himself cried rarely and wanted Harry to follow suit.

"Silence," Snape said coldly. "Let's try this sum again. Last chance,"

Harry scowled and pressed his pencil on the paper, hoping Snape would just go away and let him work in peace.

Soon though, all his homework was finished, though both of them were in a sour mood.

"I hate school," Harry said through gritted teeth. "No one likes me there, they just make fun of me and my clothes,"

"What's wrong with your clothes?" Snape looked surprised.

"They're too old-fashioned," Harry said, though he said it cautiously as to not hurt Snape's feelings. "I like them, of course, but no one wears them anymore. I mean, suspenders Dad? Really?"

Snape looked distressed. More distressed than he should have been at the situation. "Another shopping trip then?"

"It's okay, Dad. I'll manage." Harry said.

"No, you won't. We'll go sometime next week," Snape decided. "P-Harry...do the children bully you at the school?"

"Only sometimes," Harry lied. "They know you, Dad. They're scared you'll tell them off or something,"

Oh, they knew him all too well. Snape wasn't Harry's father, a father like all the normal kids had. Snape was Harry's adopted parent, a guy who had "taken pity" on the "weirdo" and had taken him in his small house.

Snape looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he pulled Harry into a surprising hug. "I'll tell them off alright. No one messes with you, Harry. Especially not Muggles. Never Muggles."

XXX

"Christmas is coming up," Dumbledore commented when he came to visit that day. Harry was sitting beside Snape on the sofa, itching to beg him for a dream present this year-oh, how Harry longed to have a broom. But Snape frowned upon Quidditch and riding and said that he "didn't want him growing up like the hooligan his father was".

Harry found this rather mean, as, even though he didn't find his father as fascinating as people forced him to believe, he at least respected him and felt this strange pity for himself that he had lost him.

"There's still time," Snape said in a bored voice.

"I was thinking," Dumbledore went on, meaningfully. "You and Harry could come to my house for a Christmas party. It will be a good experience, I am sure."

Harry looked at Snape eagerly. Snape nodded wearily. "If you say so, Dumbledore,"

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "You will be going to Hogwarts next year, won't you Harry?"

"Yes, sir. I can't wait," Harry said. He wanted to use magic so bad...and be a Slytherin like Severus. He didn't have much interest in his parent's house, as Severus didn't either.

Dumbledore smiled approvingly. "Yes, it will surely be a unique year at Hogwarts if Harry Potter himself comes to it,"

Harry forced himself to smile.

XXX

"Dad?" Harry asked, climbing onto his lap.

Snape closed his book and said softly, "It's late, Harry. You should be asleep."

"I want to ask you something," Harry said, yawning.

Snape held him close and nodded to show that he was listening.

"Was I a very annoying baby?"

Snape laughed, and the sound was bitter and sad and nostalgic. "Oh, weren't you Potter? You were very, very troublesome. You don't know how much I wanted to discipline you at that time..."

"Was I really kidnapped?" Harry asked, wonder in his voice.

Snape sighed, sounding weary. "Yes, and it was my fault. I was very angry at you at that time and left you alone with a stalker who was after your life. He took you away. But I found you in the end."

"And that's when-" Harry asked, eagerly.

"Yes," Snape said, sounding impatient. Harry always, always asked this question. "And that's when I promised to care for you forever, and be extra careful and vigilant."

Harry sighed happily. "Dad, how was I as a child?"

"You misbehaved a lot," Snape said, rebukingly. "I remember you painting my walls with soot."

"Did I really remind you of my mother?" Harry demanded. "That's why you adopted me? Did you love her, Dad? Did you?"

"Harry, go to sleep."

"Tell me. Tell me, please!"

"Yes!" Snape said, losing his temper. "Yes, I did love her! Satisfied?"

Harry froze. Woah. He stayed silent for a while, absorbing this.

"And listen to this very carefully," Snape tilted up his chin so that Harry was staring into his dark eyes. "I may have adopted you at that time for her sake-but right now I care for you for your own sake. Never think otherwise, understand?"

Harry felt so happy that he may as well burst. "Yes," he nodded, happily. "I love you. And I'll never, ever go away when I'm older. Promise me that, Dad. Please."

Snape didn't reply, but kept holding Harry. Yes, he had promised to keep this boy safe. He would continue to that. But he feared that this would not last forever. His luck never did. Nevertheless, he hugged him and kissed his hair just like he had kissed it all those many years ago, when he had brought the baby him back home from the warehouse. And he also said the same words he had said all those years ago: "I'm sorry." (For what, Harry didn't know), and also three more new ones, "I love you,"