"Did you know Sirius liked my dad? Like liked?" Harry asked. For a moment, Snape's mask of callous indifference fell crashing to the floor. If it were possible, his already sallow face paled several more shades of white, and his eyes widened in horror. It was only for a moment, though. Then Snape's gaze fell the papers on his desk and he then appeared thoughtful again.

"Shit," Snape hissed, apparently putting the pieces together. That was not the reaction he had expected, certainly. Harry wasn't sure whether to be amused or horrified. He had thought Snape might laugh at him, jeer at him, mock him, maybe not even believe him. If he was interpreting the reaction correctly, Snape both believed him and took it seriously. "Why are you bringing this to me?" he finally asked.

"Like I said before," Harry began, "there was a shot you would believe me if you hated Sirius more than me."

"And the extent of the damage?" Snape asked, leaning back in his chair, resting his chin thoughtfully in his hand.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, wary.

"Please tell me he only touched you," Snape sighed, running his hand wearily over his eyes.

"Umm…" Harry stalled.

"Shit!" Snape swore again. Harry jumped this time at the ferocity in Snape's voice.

"Sorry," he said, his tone truly apologetic for once.

"Just this once, Potter, I refuse to hear you apologize," Snape said. "None of this is actually your fault, and even I'm not blind enough to not see that. Though don't expect my refusal of your apology to become a habit!"

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Why do you think this has something to do with a decades old infatuation Black had with your father?" Snape continued.

"He kept calling me James," Harry swallowed, looking at the ground. "Apparently no one can see me as Harry. I'm always going to be James Potter, reincarnated." Snape let out a loud "Humph!" at that, seeing the jibe for what it was.

"Had he given an sign of thinking you were James before?" Snape continued.

"Well yes," Harry admitted. "He'd called me James before. It was almost like sometimes he'd look at me, expect to see James, and then he'd realize it wasn't, because he'd look disappointed."

"Mmm, I see," Snape muttered. "It doesn't excuse anything."

"I know it doesn't," Harry began in a rush, "but he's not dangerous, not really. I mean, he wouldn't do it to anyone else. I just look too much like my father." Harry pulled off his glasses and threw them on Snape's desk, his voice dripping disgust. He immediately regretted that, though, because it meant that he couldn't see the expression on Snape's face at that. He quickly grabbed them again and stuck them back on his face. He preferred seeing.

"I gather you do not intend to peruse pressing charges," Snape drawled. "Not that you would have to. The Ministry would be happy to deal with Black without any further evidence against him."

"No!" Harry gasped, horrified. "I don't want him turned over! He's just sick is all. He doesn't know I'm not James sometimes. When he knows who I am, he's perfectly decent."

"Then your point in burdening me with this information?" Snape pressed.

"I - I thought someone should know," Harry hesitated, his voice suddenly small. "And I would rather not be alone with Sirius. If you knew why, I thought - perhaps - you might try to make sure I was never alone with him."

"Well you did the right thing in telling someone," Snape continued, absently twirling a quill between his fingers. "Black has violated every boundary with this though, intentional or not, and I think something should be done about it."

"Please don't," Harry begged. "I never meant to start a big deal over this. I just wanted someone to know. You were the logical choice."

"Then let me draw you a complete and detailed picture of why you must make a big deal out of this," Snape began, sounding slightly annoyed again. "Black is your godfather, and under normal circumstances would be your guardian. While the Ministry knows nothing of his whereabouts, and therefore he has no visitation rights, shall we call them, in their eyes, the Headmaster will have different ideas. He views Black as almost your guardian. You have to live with your relatives - "

"Because of the blood wards, I know," Harry sighed.

"As I was saying," Snape said, his voice even, but still Harry could tell he was annoyed at being cut off. "You have to live with your relatives because of the blood wards, but the Headmaster, should Black ever specifically ask for you to visit him - alone, I might add - over the holidays, or the summer, or the weekend, the Headmaster will accommodate him, I promise you. It will be beyond my ability to stop such a thing from taking place and I cannot guarantee my personal presence at all hours of the day and night in such a situation."

"You think Sirius will do that?" Harry gulped.

"I think it is almost certain for Christmas," Snape replied. "Weekends, maybe not. The possibility exists though."

"And what do you suggest?" Harry asked.

"I can bring this matter to the Headmaster," Snape began. "You have trusted me with a matter of utmost delicacy, and I will treat it as such. I will give you my word that I will not bring this to the Headmaster without your approval, but that doesn't mean that I won't do everything in my power to get your approval. I believe the Headmaster should know, and I submit my request to you to allow me to tell him, unless you wish to tell him yourself."

"No!" Harry objected. "I don't want to tell him."

"Alright," Snape agreed, with a deferential nod of his head. "May I tell him then?"

"You really think you should?" Harry asked, skepticism riddling his voice.

"Yes, I do," Snape insisted. "For the reasons I already stated to you. He will support Black in any requests Black makes to have you visit him."

"And if I refuse to let you tell him?" Snape sighed dramatically.

"Then I suppose I'll just have to shadow you everywhere you go with Black just to make sure nothing happens, despite the fact that I don't have time to do that."

"You would?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. "You'd do that?"

"Well, I'm not going to stand by and let something like that happen," Snape pointed out. "I'm not that cruel, Potter, no matter what you may think of me."

"But you hate me. Infinitely, you said."

"That doesn't mean I want to put you through that," Snape sighed. "It doesn't mean I want you dead, either. You see to seriously underestimate the fact that I have some ethics, Potter."

"If you tell Dumbledore - "

"Professor Dumbledore!"

"If you tell Professor Dumbledore, what will he do to Sirius?" Harry fretted. "I don't want Sirius to be punished. It's not his fault Azkaban messed him up. If the Ministry finds out about where he is, he'll be Kissed!"

"I cannot and I will not speak for what the Headmaster will or will not do in regards to the information if and when I give it to him," Snape said. "I can advocate a moderate course of action, though, if you prefer."

"I would," Harry nodded.

"Is that the cost, then, for permission to tell the Headmaster? That I must advocate that Black not be given over to the proper authorities?"

"Yes," Harry said. "You can tell him if you do that. You don't want to though?"

"If you were my son, I would have Black torn to shreds, only to have him sewn back together again, in the wrong spacial arrangement. That would only begin what I would do. The fact remains that I will do what I can for you, and if that is the cost of protecting you against further…molestation, then so be it, and I will try to protect your godmutt. I still cannot promise the Headmaster's reaction though."

"Alright," Harry agreed, still hesitating a little. "Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome, Potter," Snape replied, his tone shockingly civil.