“I’m bored.”

Harry, who was sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and crayons, looked expectantly to Mr. Snape for a reaction to his statement. Nothing happened. Mr. Snape didn’t even look up from his magazine, which had a moving picture of a wizard on the front page. Harry had found that picture very interesting at first but now he was just bored.

“I’m bored,” he repeated, a little louder this time.

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you want me to say? You’ve got plenty of toys to entertain yourself with.”

Guiltily Harry thought of the toys in his room. He had never had so many toys before and he was grateful for them, he really was, but he had been playing inside yesterday when they came home from the hospital and the whole of today too. None of the toys seemed very exciting at the moment. Not with gramps in the hospital.

“Can we do something else?” he asked, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

“You are free to play with any of your toys.”

“That’s not what I meant! Can’t we go outside?”

Finally Mr. Snape sighed and looked up. He looked annoyed, but not in the same way that aunt Petunia or uncle Vernon would have had Harry spoken to them that way. Harry tried not to think of them. Mr. Snape was nothing like them anyway, which was why Harry liked him so much.

“Well, it’s not raining any more. What do you want to do?”

“Can we go to the park? Please?”

“The park it is, if you promise to stay within my sight the whole time.”

“I promise, I promise!”

Harry was excited to get out of the house for a bit. Being inside he could not help but think of gramps and worry about him. Gramps had said that he was fine but Harry wasn’t stupid. If the doctors wouldn’t let gramps come home it meant that something was wrong. Besides, gramps hadn’t looked very well either, and his arms had been tired as he hugged Harry.

The park was a welcome distraction. Harry ran ahead as they walked, as he often liked to do. It allowed him to see all of the cool stuff before anyone else. Like that rusty old tin, which was empty but a great deal of fun just kicking around. Or the birds that went flying as soon as they saw him. It was all a big adventure to him. Almost like something out of a fairy tale.

“Don’t go too far,” Mr. Snape cautioned him once they reached the park.

“I won’t!” Harry shouted, picking up a stick which immediately turned into a wand in his imagination.

As Mr. Snape sat down on a bench and continued to read his magazine Harry went to explore the park. The grass was still wet from the rain earlier today but that did not bother Harry.

“Abracadabra!” Harry shouted, imagining a nearby bush as a great, big dragon.

The dragon was protecting a big treasure, which Harry had to get. Yes, that was it. And to get to the treasure he had to defeat the dragon with his amazing magical powers.

“Abracadabra!” he shouted again, pretending to dodge the dragon’s fire.

There were two dragons! No, three! He was surrounded by dragons, all of them protecting the treasure he had to get. He could hear them breathing in, preparing to spout out fire. In the last moment Harry dodged, throwing himself on the ground and rolling away. Unfortunately the ground was tilting and Harry’s roll became wilder than he had thought. He almost fell into the stream before he managed to stop the rolling!

This did not deter Harry in the least though. Laughing he shot to his feet, ready to take on the dragons again when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

It was a frog. Sitting there in the water, next to a rock, almost completely still. Curiously Harry crept closer. The frog was bigger than any frog he had seen before, about four or five inches and greenish-grey in the colour.

Dragons and treasures forgotten Harry dropped his wand and toed closer to the water. The frog still did not move. Could he catch it? Maybe if he was really, really careful and moved fast enough … Just a little closer and he could … a little bit more …

With a cry Harry dove for the frog, accidentally slipping on a stone in the process.

“Harry! What happened?” Mr. Snape called, coming running to see what had happened.

Sputtering Harry emerged from the stream, triumphantly holding on to the struggling frog.

“I got it, I got it! See what I’ve got!”

Proudly he showed the frog to Mr. Snape. Unfortunately Mr. Snape did not look nearly as impressed as Harry thought he should.

“You dove into the stream for a frog?” he asked in a tone that suggested Harry was in big trouble.

“Uh … No? Maybe?”

“Let it go.”

“But I just caught it!”

“It’s a wild animal. You should not have caught it in the first place.”

“But I just wanted to look at it!”

“Then look with your eyes, not your hands.”

Pouting Harry looked from the frog to Mr. Snape. He didn’t want to let the frog go, he wanted to play with it first. And he wasn’t going to hurt it! But Mr. Snape looked very insistent.

“Now!” the man urged.

“Ok,” Harry finally muttered.

He turned back towards the stream and bent down to let the frog go.

“Good. Now we’re going home, to get you out of those wet clothes. Your grandfather will not be happy with me if you get pneumonia.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a disease in the lungs, like a very bad cold.”

“But it’s summer! People don’t get colds in the summer!”

Discretely putting his right hand in his pocket Harry obediently followed Mr. Snape as they headed back home, continuing to ask questions to distract the man from noticing that something was moving in Harry’s pocket.

When they got home Mr. Snape immediately ordered Harry to get into the bathroom and undress. Harry carefully closed the door behind him before he brought the frog out of his pocket.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Frog,” Harry said quietly. “I’ll take you back later; promise.”

Now, how to hide the frog from Mr. Snape? Harry had no delusions; if Mr. Snape found out that Harry had tricked him then he would really be in trouble. But Harry was a curious boy and he had never seen a frog like this one before.

“I’ll just hide you in this,” Harry explained to the frog, bringing out his handkerchief. “It’s clean, I promise. I never use it anyway. Gramps just think I should have it so I don’t wipe my nose on my sleeves and stuff.”

As he explained he wrapped the frog in the handkerchief and placed the little package behind bottles of soap and shampoo in the shower. Just in time, because a moment later Mr. Snape entered the room, holding a set of dry clothes for Harry.

“You haven’t undressed yet? Do you need help?”

“I’m almost six!” Harry objected indignantly. “I can undress myself!”

“Then do so! And dry yourself with a towel before you put on the dry clothes. I’ll prepare some tea while you get changed.”

Mr. Snape left and Harry got started on the task of getting changed. The clothes stuck to his body and Harry had to wrestle them before he could get them off. It quickly turned into a new game. His clothes had been hexed by an evil witch who didn’t want him to have his tea. In order to get his tea he had to wrestle free of the clothes.

Once he had freed himself of the hexed clothes Harry quickly dried himself and threw on his dry clothes, before running downstairs to get his tea. He hoped Mr. Snape had gotten a few of those chocolate chip biscuits! Harry loved those!

It was almost an hour later when he remembered about the frog he had hidden away in his handkerchief. By then he and Mr. Snape were once again sitting in the living room, Harry playing with a bunch of plastic animals and Mr. Snape reading a big book.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Snape asked as Harry sprang to his feet.

“Bathroom!”

He ran the whole way up the stairs, almost threw the door closed and locked it behind him. What if something had happened to the frog?!

Harry’s worries did not lessen as he failed to find the handkerchief. Where was it? He searched behind the bottles he had hidden it behind, went as far as picking them all away. No traces of neither the frog nor the handkerchief. Where could it have gone?

Franticly Harry searched the whole bathroom, to no avail. It wasn’t there!

Panic was quickly getting to Harry, for two reasons. First and foremost he was actually worried about the frog. Harry had been the one to take it from its home and bring it here, which made it Harry’s responsibility to bring it back too. Now the frog was lost somewhere where it had never been before, probably frightened and perhaps hungry too. Harry had not meant for that to happen!

Second, he was also a bit afraid of what Mr. Snape would say if he discovered that Harry had tricked him. Now, Harry wasn’t afraid of Mr. Snape. Not really. It was just that Harry knew that it was bad to lie to and trick adults. For as long as Harry could remember; him being bad always resulted in him hurting. It wasn’t until he came to live with gramps that he realised that things could be different. Gramps didn’t like to punish him, Harry could tell, and that had made him a bit more confident. Perhaps a bit too confident, as it seemed.

“Mr. Frog?” Harry whispered desperately to the empty bathroom.

There was no response.

Where had it gone then? Out the door? Harry gulped. If so, Mr. Snape was sure to find it, which did not bode well for Harry.

Walking as quietly as he could Harry made his way down the corridor on the second floor, looking around for any traces of the frog. Where would it have gone? Where would he have gone if he was a frog in a foreign house? For once Harry’s imagination failed him.

He searched his own bedroom first, simply because that was easiest and felt the least scary. No frog, despite the fact that Harry looked at all the best hiding spots; beneath the bed, in the wardrobe, in the toy chest. Nothing.

So Harry oved on to searching his grandfather’s room and then, reluctantly, his grandfather’s office, where he knew he was not supposed to be on his own. Still no frog.

“Mr. Frog?” Harry said, his voice small. “Please come out? I didn’t mean to make you scared.”

Of course, no frog came forth. Harry looked at the last room he had yet to search upstairs. The guest bedroom, which had once belonged to his aunt and was now where Mr. Snape slept at night. Did he dare to search through it? Thinking about his aunt and the prospect of an angry Mr. Snape Harry decided that he did not.

Perhaps downstairs then?

“What are you doing? Did you get stuck in the bathroom?” Mr. Snape asked, as if on cue.

Harry gulped nervously.

“Please, please, please Mr. Frog …” Harry whispered as he ventured downstairs.

“What took you so long?” Mr. Snape wondered.

Harry shrugged, trying not to look as guilty as he felt. He didn’t think he succeeded very well, because Mr. Snape gave him a strange look.

“Are you ok?” the man asked.

“I’m fine,” Harry lied.

Since Mr. Snape continued to look closely at him Harry walked over to the toys he had been playing with and sat down, pretending to start playing again. As soon as Mr. Snape returned his attention to the book he looked around the room, trying to see if the frog or his handkerchief was somewhere to be found.

The afternoon progressed so slowly it was painful. Harry could not relax where he sat, yet he could not get up and search for the frog without drawing the attention of Mr. Snape. It was awful and Harry felt like he was going to be sick. If only he had let the frog back into the river as Mr. Snape had told him to!

Dinnertime neared and Mr. Snape went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Harry got up as soon as he could and searched the entire living room, crawling behind the sofa and searching through the bookshelves, looking underneath the armchairs and even lifting the pillows. Still nothing.

Finally Mr. Snape called Harry into the kitchen for dinner. Harry really felt like he would throw up then. Poor, poor frog! All alone and frightened somewhere where he had never been before!

That evening Harry did not eat much for dinner, too occupied with his worries about the frog to have much of an appetite.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Snape finally asked, his voice impatient.

Harry startled, almost dropping his fork in the process.

“Nothing!” he lied, hearing his voice come out too loud.

“Do not lie to me boy! Now tell me the truth!”

Boy. Harry didn’t like being called boy, especially not in that tone. It reminded him far too much of uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia, who rarely bothered to actually use his name. Suddenly it seemed very likely that Mr. Snape would be like them now when Harry had been bad.

Fighting against the tears Harry shook his head.

“Something has been bothering you almost all afternoon. Now out with it!”

Again, Harry shook his head. He didn’t know what to say; telling the truth would only make Mr. Snape angry but so would lying to him.

“You will tell me …” Mr. Snape began, standing up.

Harry lost it. He didn’t want Mr. Snape to hurt him!

“’m sorry! Ididn’tmeantolietoyoubutIdidandI’msorry!”

Now surely the blow would fall, when he had admitted what a horrible little boy he was.

“Calm down,” Mr. Snape ordered, his voice calmer than it had been before, for some reason. “Take a deep breath and repeat yourself.”

A warm hand was on Harry’s shoulder, its presence neither threatening nor painful but rather comforting and calming.

“I’m sorry! I lied to you and I didn’t mean to but I did it anyway and I’m sorry!” Harry repeated, a little slower this time.

Surprisingly there was no blow now either.

“What did you lie to me about?”

“About the frog,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t let it go. I put it in my pocket when you weren’t looking.”

Now surely … But Mr. Snape was smiling, and not in a dangerous way! Harry didn’t understand it. At least not until the man explained himself.

“I know. I found your frog in the bathroom when I took care of your clothes.”

Harry gasped. So the man had known all along! Then why didn’t he seem angry? Harry had lied to him, tricked him even! Adults got angry when he did that! Even gramps did!

“I was going to scold you for it,” Mr. Snape explained, “but then I noticed that it had claws on its hind legs. I’m not sure if you noticed those?”

Quietly Harry shook his head. No, he had not noticed that. He had barely had time to look at it at all.

“Well, it does, which got me thinking. Indigenous frogs do not have those, which means that you stumbled upon a rarer species.”

“It is?” Harry repeated questioningly. He knew very little of frogs.

“Indeed. I’ve been trying to find out which specific breed by looking through my encyclopaedia.” 

His curiosity caught, and fear of punishment forgotten at the moment, Harry leaned in closer, wanting to hear more.

“What’d it say?” he asked.

“Do you want to know?” Mr. Snape wondered.

“Yes” Harry nodded eagerly.

“Eat your dinner and I’ll show you afterwards.”

Which totally wasn’t fair because Harry wanted to know now! Still, with most of his worry gone he was suddenly quite hungry, so Harry dug in without too much of a protest.

After dinner Harry helped Mr. Snape put away the dishes before they both moved on to the living room, where Mr. Snape showed Harry the book he had been reading.

“This is a book on potions ingredients,” he explained. “Wizards use all sorts of ingredients in their potions. This particular book deals with frogs, toads, lizards and snakes.”

“Cool!”

“If this frog of yours is of any use in a potion it should be in here. I’ve been skimming it through and I believe this is yours.”

The man pointed to a picture of a frog and a whole lot of text underneath it. Harry didn’t even try to read the text, as it was way too much for him, but he did look at the picture. It did look a bit like the frog he had found.

“What does it say?” he wondered.

“This species of frog is called Xenopus and is from Africa.”

“Africa?” Harry repeated, having only a vague idea of what that was.

“Yes. How it got here is a mystery but I haven’t found any other frog that has claws and no tongue.”

Harry pondered this. His frog was from another country! And Mr. Snape didn’t seem angry with him at all, for some reason.

“Can you use it in a potion?” Harry wanted to know.

“Of course. Its claws are quite valuable actually.”

“So … you’re not mad at me?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Mr. Snape didn’t seem angry, especially when he spoke of how the frog could be used in potions, but Harry still wanted to be sure.

“Not this time. However I do expect to be obeyed the next time I order you to release something.”

“Yes sir!” Harry agreed with a relieved smile.

That very evening Mr. Snape used his wand to transfigure one of the armchairs into an aquarium for the frog, a very amused Harry clapping his hands as he watched. Harry loved magic. It was the best thing in the world, he was sure.

“Xenopus are aquatic,” Mr. Snape explained to him as he filled the aquarium with water spurting from his wand.

“What does that mean?”

“It means they live in the water and don’t really come up on land. We’re lucky this one survived your little kidnapping.”

“Oh,” Harry blushed, ashamed at the realisation that he had almost killed the frog.

“I wonder if there is more than one,” Mr. Snape commented when the aquarium was filled. “Did you see any other frogs, Harry?”

“No, not really.”

“Could you show me exactly where you first saw it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

So the next day they went back to the park and Harry got to show Mr. Snape where he had first seen the mysterious tongue-less, clawed frog. Mr. Snape had brought two fishing rods, which he had transformed into nets.

“Here,” he said, handing Harry one of the nets. “You search further down the stream and I’ll head upstream.”

Happy about this new adventure Harry eagerly gripped the rod of the net.

“Yes sir! If there’s a frog I’ll catch it!”

“Good. Just don’t go too far. And try not to hurt the frog when you catch it.”

With that in mind the two separated, walking up respectively down the stream, searching for frogs. Harry imagined catching hundreds of little frogs; enough to fill the whole aquarium. Perhaps Mr. Snape would have to do more magic then. Harry hoped so. He liked watching the man do magic.

“Come here, froggy, froggy, froggy,” Harry cooed as he slowly made his way down the stream.

Unfortunately it seemed that the frog Harry had caught yesterday had been alone, because Harry saw no other frogs, clawed or otherwise. He was just about to give up and head back up the stream to find Mr. Snape when he heard a splashing sound.

Maybe it was a frog! If Harry could just sneak up on the frog without it noticing, then surely it’d be no problem to catch it! So Harry crouched down to hide in the high grass, slowly creping closer to where he thought the splash had come from.

“I’m bored. Let’s find something else to do.”

“Like what?”

“Get ice cream maybe?”

He froze when he heard the nearby voices. Those voices were familiar to him and had never meant anything good. Suddenly he realised that he had wandered off way too far and that Mr. Snape was nowhere in sight.

“Do you have any money?”

“No. Mom wouldn’t give me any this week after what we did to that Riley-kid.”

“Adams?”

“Nope. Spent it all yesterday. You?”

“No.”

Slowly Harry began to back away as quietly as he possibly could. Martin Palmer, Ryan Adams and Doug Hamilton had always disliked Harry. Ryan’s younger brother Roger were in Harry’s class and had taken an instant dislike to Harry, going as far as telling his brother and his friends that Harry had been bothering him. Harry generally tried avoiding them, seeing as they made Dudley’s attempts at Harry hunting seem like child’s play.  

“This sucks!”

“Yeah. Having no money’s just boring.”

“I’m tired of this. Let’s go somewhere else.”

A stone came flying through the air. Harry just managed to dodge it but in doing so he stepped on a twig. Horrified he froze in place. Had they heard him?

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Someone’s hiding in the grass. Over there.”

“Where?”

“Over there!”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Maybe it’s just an animal or something?”

“Maybe …”

Heart beating hard in his chest Harry tried to breathe as quietly as possible and stay as still as he could, praying silently that the bullies would not spot him. He could hear them searching the grass just a little bit away from him.

“Let’s get out of here. It was probably nothing.”

“No, I’m sure someone’s hiding in here.”

“Then maybe it’s a hobo or something. Come on Palmer, let’s get going!”

Just then Harry’s green eyes met the blue ones of Martin Palmer.

“Hey, it’s Potter!”

Harry did not wait to hear what they said next. He bolted, running as fast as he possibly could back the same way he had come. If he could just get to Mr. Snape before the bullies caught up with him …

“Potter!” he could hear them shouting behind him.

“Come on Potter! We’re bored, come play with us!”

They were catching up to him. Being fifth graders they were both bigger and faster than Harry and usually had no problem getting to him. And if they got to him …

Desperate times called for desperate measures, Harry decided and abandoned his pride.

“Mr. Snape!” he called, as loud as he possibly could. “MR. SNAAPEE!”

“No one’s going to hear you out here, Potter!”

A tackle from behind sent Harry flying and suddenly he was on his hands and knees. The sudden pain caused tears to flow to his eyes and before he could wipe them away he had been dragged back to his feet and turned to face his pursuers.

“Got you now, Potter!”

“Thought you’d be able to …”

“Harry? Where are you? Harry?”

The older boys froze, much like Harry had earlier.

“Harry?”

Mr. Snape appeared from behind a couple of trees, looking big and menacing and comfortingly adult! Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Crap!”

“Come on!”

“Let’s get going!”

The hands holding Harry up threw him away like he had been a dirty rag and the three boys went running, proverbial tails between their legs. Left lying on the ground was Harry.

“Here!” Harry called, waving an arm in the air.

“There you are! I told you not to go too far! And what happened to you?”

Not knowing what to say Harry just shrugged. The movement hurt and Harry could not contain a wince, which made Mr. Snape wrinkle his eyebrows as he studied Harry closer.

“You’re hurt. Let me see your hands.”

Obediently Harry held up his hands. There were abrasions, from where he had tried to catch himself when he was tackled. Similar ones were on his knees, and those were even bleeding a little.

“Did those boys I saw running away do this to you?” Mr. Snape asked quietly.

Startled at the question Harry could only stare for a moment before he nodded wordlessly. He hadn’t thought that Mr. Snape had seen the other boys.

“I’m sorry. I should have kept a better eye on you,” Mr. Snape said quietly, as he inspected the abrasions on Harry’s knees. “If I had they wouldn’t have been able to get to you.”

At that Harry could not help but shake his head in objections.

“I walked off too far,” he admitted. “It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t. You’re five. It’s my responsibility as an adult to make sure that you are alright.”

“I’m almost six you know.”

“You are still a child.”

Which Harry wasn’t going to object to. He just didn’t want Mr. Snape blaming himself for Harry getting hurt when none of it would have happened had Harry stayed closer to Mr. Snape, like he had been told to.

“This is going to feel a bit strange,” Mr. Snape warned, pulling out his wand.

He spoke a strange word that Harry didn’t catch and there was a strange, tingling sensation at Harry’s knees. It didn’t hurt but it definitely did feel strange. Then Mr. Snape spoke another word and the pain disappeared almost completely.

“Thanks,” Harry said.

“No problem. Give me your hands.”

Quickly Mr. Snape repeated the process with Harry’s hand, managing to take away almost all of the pain Harry had been in. He still felt like crying after the scare with the three older boys but Harry was determined not to give in to that urge. Now when Mr. Snape had taken away the pain he really did not want to cry, or Mr. Snape might think him a baby.

“There. Let’s go back home and I can get some healing balm on those abrasions.”

“What’d you do?” Harry asked as he was pulled up to a standing position and then gently guided back onto the road.

“A numbing spell against the pain and a disinfecting spell to make sure they won’t get infected.”

“You can do that sort of thing with magic?”

“Yes. It’s not quite as reliable as a potion but it should do the trick.”

Perhaps it was because Harry had been injured, or perhaps there was some other reason that Harry did not know about, but Mr. Snape seemed unusually patient and gentle with Harry. He even held Harry’s hand as they walked! The prideful part of Harry wanted to pull away and point out that he was certainly too big to hold hands in public, but another part of him was happy about the comfort it gave him.

“I forgot my net,” Harry suddenly remembered, realising that he must have dropped in when he was chased.

“We can go back for it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. The most important thing now is to get you some medical treatment.”

Which was a rather new thought to Harry; one that needed some pondering. He still wasn’t that used to people putting his comfort or safety first.

“I didn’t catch any frogs,” he said a few minutes later.

“That’s alright.”

“I didn’t even see any.”

“Again, that’s alright. I managed to catch one,” Mr. Snape said, patting his pocket.

“But what if there are others?”

“Perhaps there are no others. Their species isn’t supposed to live here anyway.”

“But what if there are? Shouldn’t we reunite Mr. Frog with his friends?”

“Mr. Frog?”

“I didn’t know what else to call him.”

“Hm, makes some sort of sense, I guess. As for your question, we could go back tomorrow and search for any remaining friends of Mr. Frog’s.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want him to be lonely.” 

Mr. Snape made a sound which Harry did not know how to interpret. It didn’t matter though, as they had reached the house and Mr. Snape was now ushering him inside so that he could heal the abrasions.

Once they were inside the door Mr. Snape waved his wand and spoke again, and a moment later a small jar came flying from upstairs.

“This is a simple healing balm,” Mr. Snape explained as he helped Harry sit down on the couch. “It might sting a little at first, but then it’s going to feel cool and help you heal.”

Gently he applied the balm. Harry sat as still as he could, enjoying the ministrations. It did hurt a little as it went on and Harry didn’t like being hurt, but he did like it when people cared about him when he got hurt. The Dursleys had never cared much if Harry had scrubbed his knees or hit his head or anything. It was nice when people cared about him.

“There,” Mr. Snape said once he was finished. “You should be fine in an hour or so, considering it’s nothing too serious.”

“Thanks.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“You were wrong,” Severus stated later that evening.

“Huh?”

A confused Harry looked up from the picture he had been drawing; apparently a depiction of him catching frogs though Severus thought it looked quite a lot like any other picture the boy had ever drawn.

“You were wrong,” Severus repeated.

“About what?”

“About Mr. Frog.”

“What about him?”

Standing up the boy came over to where Severus was standing by the aquarium, a book in hand as he studied the two frogs currently occupying it.

“He’s a she.”

“What?”

“Among the xenopus the females are larger than the males,” Severus explained. “The frog you caught is larger than the one I caught, which makes yours the female.”

“So Mr. Frog is really Mrs. Frog?”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

For a moment the boy seemed to ponder that, curiously looking at the frogs.

“So what are we going to do with Mr. and Mrs. Frog?” he asked after a moment.

“I believe I’ll keep them,” Severus said. “Muggles would probably classify them as pests anyway, since they are not native to the local fauna.”

“We can keep them? Yay!”

“Besides, if they bred I could make some extra money selling the offspring to the local apothecaries,” he added as an afterthought.

Certainly the local apothecaries would appreciate not having to go through the process of importing the frogs, as such a procedure were expensive and potentially harmful to the ingredients. As far as Severus knew there were no breeders of these frogs in the UK, which would enable him to make some decent money off of it.

“You’re going to sell their babies?” Harry wondered, sounding aghast.

“If they have any, then yes.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

Severus didn’t even look at the boy, refusing to acknowledge his little tantrum. Instead he fed the frogs.

“Because it’s their babies!” the boy argued heatedly. “You can’t take them away from their parents!”

“Their parents won’t mind. Frogs lay eggs. They don’t need their parents the way humans do.”

“How do you know? Maybe they really do want to stay with their parents?”

With a sigh Severus put away the jar with frog food and turned towards the boy, noticing the stubborn expression. The stance and the fist was definitely a Potter-trait but the way he was also pouting with his lip was entirely Lily. Severus couldn’t even bring himself to feel very irritated, despite the boy’s irrational and emotion-based arguments.

“Bedtime,” he said quietly. “Go get ready. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“I don’t want to go to bed!”

“Too bad, because it’s bedtime.”

“But I’m not tired!”

“Go get changed and brush your teeth,” he ordered, his voice growing firmer.

He could visibly tell the moment the boy gave in, shoulders relaxing a little as he looked away in defeat.

“Fine. But I don’t need tucking in!”

With those final words the boy stormed away, stomping his feet all the way. Severus let him, for now.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

To his chagrin Harry fell asleep before Mr. Snape came to tuck him in. He realised though, just before sleep overtook him, that it had been two days since he had seen his grandfather and he almost hadn’t worried at all. Perhaps Mr. Snape wasn’t so bad after all; even if he had talked about selling Mr. and Mrs. Frog’s babies.