Harry stared at the page of Year With A Yeti dubiously. He was only three pages into the book, and he’d already learnt more about Gilderoy Lockhart than he’d ever needed – or wanted – to know.

“Problem, Potter?” Snape asked casually. The professor had been sitting in his armchair, scribbling increasingly frantic notes onto a bit of parchment, for well over an hour now. Harry hadn’t even thought Snape was aware of anything else anymore.

“Um...” He flicked over another page, double-checking to see that this wasn’t just a biography bit that somebody had forgotten to mark. “Are these the right Defence books, sir? This one seems a bit . . .” His voice trailed off as he struggled to find a word other than ‘rubbish’.

Snape raised his head from his own parchment to eye the book Harry was holding. He sneered at it, and turned back to his work. “Unfortunately, those are the right books. Whether you can actually call them ‘Defence’ books, however, is another matter,” he said. “I’d recommend a course of self-study this year, Potter.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said automatically, then he frowned at the book. What sort of things should he be ‘self-studying’? Hermione might know, but then again, she’d checked out a book that had almost broken the table when she’d dropped it a bit too heavily for ‘a bit of light reading’. Who knew where she’d gotten to in her studies!

Harry glanced up at Snape, preparing to ask, but the professor was already deeply involved in his notes again, and Harry didn’t want to get his head bitten off for interrupting.

Snape was interrupted anyway, by a short, muted crack from the direction of the back yard.

“For God’s sake!” exclaimed Snape in irritation, as the Headmaster strolled in through the kitchen. “Must I put up anti-Apparation wards, as well?”

Dumbledore smiled blithely at them both, seemingly ignoring Snape’s outburst. “Good morning!” he said, jovially. “No need to get up, Severus,” he added, waving a dismissive hand at Snape – who hadn’t even moved from his chair. “Filius informed me a new ward had gone up, so I decided to come and take a look myself.”

Snape looked up towards the ceiling, obviously praying for patience. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said, finally, bringing his gaze back down to glare at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore hummed in acknowledgement as he retrieved his wand from the sleeve of his wand. “Now, don’t be alarmed,” he said to Harry. “This won’t hurt.”

Harry shot a surprised glance at Snape. “Should I have expected it to, sir?” he asked the professor, as Dumbledore began waving his wand in tight spirals.

“No,” Snape said, with a sigh. He determinedly turned back to his parchment, and Harry bit his lip at the sight of his professor so obviously trying to ignore the Headmaster.

He attempted to read some more of his Defence textbook, but in the space of a page, he was informed twice more that Lockhart’s favourite colour was lilac – and that was really twice more than he wanted to be told.

When Dumbledore finished waving his wand, Harry decided that now would be a good time to stop trying to get anything useful from this book.

“Hmm, how very interesting!” the Headmaster said. He turned to beam at Harry. “A pleasing development, wouldn’t you say, Harry?”

“Umm…” Harry wasn’t at all sure that he would say, since he had no idea what Dumbledore meant.

Snape had apparently given up on trying to complete his work, and was now frowning at Dumbledore, his arms folded across his chest. “What are you going on about, Albus?” he asked. “What development?”

The Headmaster transferred his bright grin to Snape, who just frowned harder. “Why, the new ward, my boy!” he replied, cheerfully.

There was a pause, and Harry had the impression that Snape was counting – to who knew what number – to hold on to his rapidly escaping patience.

“What about the new ward, Albus?” he asked once he’d seemingly reached a suitable number.

Dumbledore looked at Snape for a moment, then glanced back at Harry. His eyes twinkled, and he looked very pleased with himself. “Oh, nothing, nothing,” he said, airily, waving a hand. “Nothing to be concerned about. Now, I must go; I have to discuss these readings with Minerva and Filius.” And he Apparated away before Snape could stop him.

The professor gave a small growl of annoyance and turned back to his work.

Harry went to collect his Gadding With Ghouls book, to see if that was any better than the Yeti one. He was still lost. What on earth had Dumbledore been talking about?

Severus waited until Potter had gone to bed before he retreated outside to his lab. He wanted answers about whatever Albus had been so enthused over, and even if he wasn’t actually planning to speak to Albus about it, he thought somewhere where Potter wasn’t disturbed by his yelling – because he was certain he was going to do quite a bit of it – was best.

“Hogwarts, Filius Flitwick’s quarters,” he called, dropping a pinch of Floo powder into his fireplace.

It took longer than he had expected before the Charms Master’s face appeared in the fire. “Severus?” his colleague asked. “Has something else happened with the house-elf and the wards?”

“No, nothing else,” Severus told him. “Albus was here this morning, checking on the new ward. He seemed very . . . delighted, but was his usual cryptic self and instead of telling us anything, he spouted some nonsense about an ‘interesting development’. Has he told you or Minerva what, exactly, that development is?”

Filius’ head made a motion that Severus guessed was the other professor settling himself in front of his own fireplace. “Yes, Albus was incredibly pleased when he came back,” he said. “He said it was a blood ward, but wouldn’t say anything more than that.”

Severus froze. “A blood ward?” he managed to get out in a croak. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

“Oh, yes,” Filius agreed, nodding. “Minerva was very concerned, obviously with it being blood magic, but both Albus and I managed to assure her that it’s a defensive ward, not an offensive one.”

No, it couldn’t be… Severus thought. Albus’ words from weeks before echoed in his head: “Providing the blood conduit – in this case, Petunia – is willing, the wards can protect anywhere the protectee considers home.”

If a blood ward was now surrounding his home . . . then that meant that Potter considered it home, too.

“—erus? Severus!” Filius’ voice intruded on the imminent mental breakdown that Severus could feel approaching, and he became aware that Filius must have been talking to him for a while. “Are you alright?”

No, I don’t think I am, was the first response that came to mind, but Severus wasn’t going to actually say that out loud. “I’m fine, Filius,” he said, instead. “I’m afraid I have to go. Please let Albus know I’ll be contacting him soon to discuss the matter.”

Filius nodded, still looking concerned. “Of course,” he replied. “I’ll see you next week at Hogwarts, then.”

Severus gave a brisk nod and shut the Floo down, before slumping against the nearest table.

It didn’t seem possible. How in Merlin’s name could Potter actually feel comfortable enough, secure enough, to have begun considering Spinner’s End as his home? Even Severus didn’t feel like it was home at times! He’d just never gotten around to selling it after both his parents had died, and it gave him somewhere else to be during the long summer holidays that wasn’t Hogwarts.

Then again, Severus mused, he supposed that anywhere would come to feel like home to Potter if it was better than his previous so-called home.

A thought struck him, and he straightened in alarm. If the blood ward was now around Spinner’s End, that meant that Albus would ensure Potter stayed at Spinner’s End in future.

Congratulations, Severus, he thought to himself as he slumped again. You’ve just become a father to a twelve year old boy!