Severus found himself awake suddenly. Lying quietly, he strained to hear any noise that may have disturbed him. Haven, however, was still. The only sound that reached his ear was the peaceful inhale and exhale of his wife as she slept beside him. Carefully, he shifted off the bed so as not to wake Arabella and grabbed his robe and wand in a rote motion. Soundlessly, he left the room. His feet automatically moved him in the direction of his son’s room; watching Harry sleep had become a habit for him once again. In the peaceful darkness, he had no qualms about letting the walls down and the overwhelming emotions free reign; there was no one there to know but himself. Gently, he pushed the door open and slipped into the room, easily finding the chair in the corner and lowering himself down. He wished he could get closer and see his son more clearly, but he knew Harry would sense him and awaken, no matter how strong a sleeping draught he was given before bed.

Settling comfortably into the chair, Severus thought back over the past five days. His protective instincts were still hyper-charged after the incident with the Dementors. He could honestly say he had never quite known fear like he had felt when he saw the Ministry Aurors take Harry into custody. Facing Voldemort and risking death as a spy was nothing like the impotent terror that had run through him at that moment. Even thinking back on it now, he could feel the adrenaline once again surge into his blood.

Harry rolled over, stretching lazily in his sleep. Faint rays of light from his bathroom and the hall drifted into the room and lit up the plains of his face. The sight of his child sleeping so serenely caused a different emotion to swelling powerfully within him: an unconditional love so profound he still had a hard time comprehending it. The power it held over him was terrifying for a person so dependent on control and yet, like his love for Bella, his love for his son made him feel powerful and content. It wasn’t long before his darker thoughts were banished and he found himself wondering over his son’s features instead.

To his profound relief, they had changed subtly in the past few days. While he was still very recognizable and still bore a resemblance to James Potter, if you looked closely and if you were looking for them, the changes were noticeable. His hair had lost the dry, rough, fly-away and bone-straight appearance and become finer and silkier in texture while retaining its thickness and jet-black color. Severus suspected that if he allowed it to grow out at all, it would fall in soft waves, like Bella’s or Lily’s and unlike his own. Harry’s face was gradually loosing the round, full appearance that belonged to James and becoming longer, more oval shaped and in the process, making his cheekbones more pronounced.

His son shifted again in his sleep. The light fell across his face in such away that Severus was struck by the strong likeness, with the exception of his nose and possible eye shape, to his paternal grandmother, Severus’ mother, who was of Mediterranean descent, had been a handsome woman. Her features were well proportioned, although they were considered too strong to be beautiful on a woman. Idly, he wondered if Harry’s nose would change as well; he just hoped he didn’t inherit his hooked nose. If Harry were lucky, he’d inherit his Great-Grandmother Snape’s more elegant patrician nose.

Letting his eyes drift around the room, he noticed the photo album he lent to Harry was placed beside his bed; the journal his mother had mentioned in her letter lay atop it. The thought of the journal lead to thoughts of the prophesy about Voldemort’s final downfall which, in turn, sent desperate chills through out his body. While he felt some sense of relief that they might finally have found some answers and a way to eliminate Voldemort once and for all, he couldn’t help but despair over the tribulations his son would endure before the end. Realizing he had been there for quiet some time, he pushed himself to his feet and tried to quietly leave the room. His movements, however, caused his son to stir slightly.

“Sev?”

“Go back to sleep, Ha… Darrius. Everything is fine,” he whispered. The shock of hearing Bella’s nickname for him coming from his son causing him to almost forgetting the decision to use Harry’s and Hermione’s “alternate” names; allowing them all time to adjust to their use.

“Okay,” his son replied sleepily.

For a long moment, Severus just stood in the doorway, awed as he watched him settle and drift back to sleep. His heart was buoyed by Harry’s easy acceptance of his presence as he slept. While things were starting to get better between them, their relationship was still stilted and formal. With a faint smile on his lips, he closed the door behind him and ventured into the common room.

“I was hoping you’d come out soon,” a male voice said from one of the armchairs currently turned toward the fireplace.

“What do you want, Black?” Severus replied sharply.

“Your assistance,” Sirius replied as he stood up and faced him. Surprisingly, his tone hadn’t been sarcastic, but rather sincere and cordial. Severus narrowed his eyes as he studied the other man. The dogs behavior was out of character, at least where it concerned their interaction. Instead of responding, Severus merely raised a questioning eyebrow and watched as Sirius leaned down and picked up several books.

“Listen, I know it’s late, or rather very early, but I wanted to talk to you about this without Bella, Harry and Hermione knowing. If I am right, it might make things easier for all three, but if I am wrong, I don’t want them to have placed their hopes in it, only to lose it.”

Severus conceded with a nod, a little surprised but willing to listen if it could help Harry or Bella. As much antagonism as there was between them, the one place they saw eye-to-eye was in their protective instincts toward Bella and Harry. Sirius smiled, looking faintly relieved, and turned to walk toward the kitchens. He followed, guessing that his brother-in-law wanted some additional protection from possibly being over heard, which the many doors and tunnels leading into the common room did not provide. Once in the kitchen, Sirius placed the books on the table and moved toward the stove. Dropping tea bags into a teapot, he heated some water with a wave of his wand and poured it in.

As Sirius prepared the tea, Severus picked up the books that had been placed on the table. He was a bit shocked to see they were family albums. Flipping open the top album, he realized they were old, possibly from Sirius’ and Bella’s mother’s childhood. Sirius placed a tray in the center of the table, took a seat and began pouring out two cups of tea. Taking a seat across from him, Severus continued to browse through the album.

“They belonged to Gran Grainne; they’re mostly pictures of my mum and Aunt Livia. That first book is from when they were small,” Sirius said. Taking hold of the album on the bottom of the stack, Sirius pulled it out and dropped it on top of the open one Severus was currently looking through, earning him a scowl in return.

“This one contains pictures of them as teenagers, about Harry and Hermione’s age.”

“And the point of this little trip down memory lane?” Severus asked snidely as Sirius flipped open the photo album and pointed to one of the pictures on the page. For a long moment, Severus stared at the picture. He assumed it was of the aunt Sirius had mentioned; he didn’t recognize her but she did bear a small resemblance to Arabella. Peripherally, he saw Sirius pull two pictures out a pocket in his robe; he placed one beside the picture in the album. Severus recognized it immediately. It was a picture of a fifth-year Arabella; her prefects badge proudly displayed on her Hufflepuff robes. Looking carefully at the two pictures, he could pick out the resemblance now; both shared the same facial structure: jaw line, cheekbones and forehead. Their eyes were spaced similarly, but were shaped different. Their noses and lips and coloring were totally different, the most obvious being the hair color. Where Arabella had inherited her father’s pale complexion and black hair, the young girl in the picture had a warmer complexion and tawny hair. Looking up at his brother-in-law, he raised a single eyebrow. Sirius placed a third picture on the opposite side of the young and as yet, unidentified girl’s image. Again, Severus recognized the person staring up at him; it was Hermione Granger. What shocked him, however, was the similarity between the pictures. It was too strong to be mere coincidence and until he saw all three pictures laid before him, he wouldn’t have noticed the likeness between Arabella and Hermione. Their bone structure looked the same in the jaw, cheekbones and forehead. Hermione, however, also shared her coloring with the girl in the middle picture. Severus’ heart began to speed up at the sudden realization of what Sirius was suggesting.

“This picture,” Sirius said, pointing to the middle image, “is of Livia Walsh, my aunt. She disappeared a year before my parents married. I didn’t want to say anything until I had conclusive evidence and for that, I need your help. This,” he said, gesturing to the images, “no matter how compelling, is still pretty circumspect. And while it would explain how Hermione came by her healing talent, it doesn’t really prove anything.” He paused for a moment, his expression shadowed by an old and painful memory. “I remember last year, when Harry learned who I was, when he listened to my side of the story. He was ecstatic to have someone who wanted to be his family. I remember how hurt he looked when it all fell apart. I don’t want to do that to Hermione.”

Severus leaned back in his chair and considered what Sirius was saying. He’d felt a flash of guilt and anger at the mention of the previous year, but pushed it aside. He hadn’t actual considered that Ms. Granger could be hurt by any of this beyond what had already happened to her, but he could see the prudence in it. Mentally, he ran through every relation-testing potion he knew of but couldn’t remember any that would offer conclusive proof of a relation separated by more than one generation. There were plenty for proving paternity or one-generation skips like child to grandparent and other direct relationships, but not for cousins, much less children of cousins. It would be far easier if he had a sample of Livia Walsh’s hair. A slow smile curled his lips when his mind flashed to the album sitting on Harry’s nightstand; inside there was a locket of hair magically sealed and preserved on one of the pages.

“You don’t know if your grandmother kept a baby book for your aunt, do you?” he asked.

“I think so. They’d likely be in the vault in Gringotts or at the lake house. Bella would know. Why? Can’t you use my blood or hair or something?”

“No. There are too many generations and separations between yourself and Ms. Granger for any test to be conclusive,” he said derisively. “If you want to know for certain, I need to prove her to be Livia’s granddaughter and for that I will need genetic material from Livia Walsh, herself.”

Sirius sat back, seemingly ignoring Severus tone as he thought it over. “Gran used to keep photo albums and keepsakes in boxes in her room. I remember Bella packed it all up into chests and put it in the attic when she passed.” Sirius had hesitated over the last word, bringing back to Severus strong memories of just how brutal and ugly the old healer’s death had been. Wishing he could banish those thoughts and memories from his head forever, he nodded and stood up.

“I will check there tomorrow. I need get some potion ingredients, as well,” he replied. With a curt nod, he left the kitchen, his cup of tea untouched on the table.

He walked back toward his room, pausing just outside the door before accepting that his mind was too stirred up to allow him to sleep. For a brief moment he contemplated looking in on Harry again then decided to do some work instead. There were several potions he had yet to brew for tomorrow, perhaps he could get a head start on those.

He was about to return to his labs when a he heard an unexpected noise in Harry’s room. Moving closer to the door, he heard the distinct sounds of whimpers and harsh breathing. Opening the door, he let the light cascade across his son’s shivering body. Panic seized him in that moment and he rushed to his side, quickly taking note of his son’s clammy skin, rapid breathing and pain filled expression.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked from the doorway, his concern for Harry evident in his voice.

“Get Bella,” Severus replied, trying to keep his voice calm for Harry’s sake, “quickly.”

Severus slid his arms under his son’s body and lifted him. Climbing onto the bed, he settled Harry, hopefully comfortably, against his chest and tried to soothe him. He was afraid to use magic to move or warm him as he could feel the shock of uncontrolled magically energy permeating the area around him. He had a number of suspicions as the cause of the illness, but he wouldn’t act on it until Bella had confirmed it for him. He prayed he was wrong. Within seconds, he felt the bed depress slightly as Bella climbed up on the other side of Harry and immediately began running her hands over his body.

“Siri, go wake Hermione and send her in here. Then go into the infirmary. In the potions cabinet there are several unlabelled bottles on the top shelf. A black one, a blue one and the potion Sev makes for me. I need you to bring them and a glass of water. Hurry.” All the while, her tone was soft and calm. It was a tone Sirius and Severus were equally familiar with; it was the Healer’s voice and that thought scared him tremendously.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“Not sure. I think both potions finally wore off and his body is going into shock. His system seems to be trying to reject the changes, they’re happening too fast for his body to cope.”

“The potions were timed to prevent this. I made and administered them myself.” Severus exclaimed, his anxiety escalating.

“We couldn’t predict half the things that have happened to Harry over the last few years. There is no telling how any of that effected his system and the rate the potions metabolized.” Her voice remained calm and even, yet it sounded distracted.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione cried, obviously alarmed as she rushed into the room, still tying her robe shut over her pajamas.

“Harry’s reacting badly to the potions leaving his system; his body seems to be trying to reject the changes. He’s going into shock,” Bella said. “Sev, help me lay him flat.”

For a moment, Sev instinctively held Harry tighter, oddly reassured by the feel of his son’s breaths, that were becoming more even, against his neck.

“Sev, we can’t help him unless you let him go. I won’t let him cross over. Please, Sev,” she pleaded, her voice stronger and more desperate than before.

With slightly shaking arms, he relaxed his hold and allowed Bella to shift Harry into a more neutral position. It took every once of control he had to hold himself steady. He could feel the bursts of power tearing through his son’s body and knew that Bella’s reassuring tone belied the truth of the situation. He couldn’t stop his mind from returning over and over to the idea that if he hadn’t stopped, hadn’t heard and recognized Harry’s distress, there was no telling what could have happened to him or what shape he would have been come morning, if he was alive at all. The idea that his son might have died before his 15th birthday caused his stomach to tighten and twist and his chest to constrict powerfully. He moved back and off the bed. He watched as Hermione moved up on to the bed to take his place.

“I have the potions,” Sirius said as he hurried into the room.

“Severus,” Bella said, “give Harry a half dose of the Metabolic Efficiency Potion.”

Severus quickly poured out the mixture, knowing not to question Arabella’s orders when she was actively in her Healer mode. Lifting his son’s head enough to allow him to swallow, he poured the liquid down the boy’s throat and counted to ten. At first there seemed to be no change then slowly the shaking began to subside and Severus felt his panic ease its grip on his heart. Taking a few steps back, he slumped against the wall, as all energy seemed to flee his body. He watched, only half aware, as Hermione and Arabella worked to stabilize Harry’s energy patterns. He felt like his mind was beginning to clear and he realized that Sirius was standing beside him, obviously doing no better than he. Straightening his posture, he concentrated on trying to hear the whispered conversation between the two Healers.

“Bella!”

Hermione’s alarmed cry seized Severus heart. He stepped closer, needing to know what was happening and instantly regretting as Harry’s body seized and then went limp.

“Bella!”

The panic was clear in the young woman’s voice. For Severus, time stopped. This couldn’t be happening. Harry had been through so much already; he couldn’t lose his son, not like this. Unconsciously, he started walking towards the bed, noting how pale his son’s arm had become in the last few minutes. As he neared the foot of the bed, the first thing he noticed, with great relief, was that his son was breathing. The second thing that registered on him was his son’s true appearance.

At that moment, Harry’s brilliant green eyes fluttered open and he whispered hoarsely, “What happened?”

Bella spoke first, “Your body had trouble adjusting to the changes that occurred when the potions in your system wore off. It also appears, Harry,” she said smiling at him, “that the potions actually suppressed some of your magic, likely things inherited from Severus. Your body tried to reject the added power and changes to your body. You went into shock.” After a moment of silence, she added, “You’ll be fine, Harry. Promise.” Harry nodded slightly as he fought to keep his eyes open. “Sleep, Harry. There will be plenty of time tomorrow.”

As soon as Harry’s breathing fell into the deep natural rhythms of sleep, Arabella turned to Hermione and told her to go back to bed. She protested slightly until Bella assured her Harry would be okay and convinced her to take some of the sleep potion Sirius had brought into the room. Hermione leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek the walked out of the room, glancing back once at her sleeping friend. Severus realized that part of her fear had been a result of Harry’s sudden change in appearance, yet she had not let it affect her opinion or reaction to him as a person and he was grateful for that.

Arabella then turned her attention to Sirius and handed him a similar potion. He refused it at first, but she talked him into taking it using the argument that Harry would need his support tomorrow morning and that he would need his wits about him. Sirius had reluctantly taken the small amount of potion poured into a water glass and downed in one swig. He’d then walked over to Harry, taken his hand and leaned over, whispering something into his ear. As he left the room, his eyes locked with Severus’; the man’s fear, pain, resentment and love for Harry clearly reflected in the blue of his gaze.

His wife then turned her attention to him and he spoke up immediately, “I’m not leaving my son.”

“I wasn’t planning on asking you to, Sev,” she replied softly as she moved over to where he was standing. “I was planning to offer to take first shift, since I’ve had more sleep.” Taking his hand, she pulled him around to the side of the bed and patted the mattress. “Get some sleep.”

“I don’t think I could,” he replied. It was the truth. There was still way too much adrenaline in his blood and bad memories dancing in his mind to even attempt it. Bella smiled and stepped closer to him. Gently, she stroked her fingers through the hair by his temple. The sensation relaxed him and he barely noticed her pushing him down onto the bed. He felt the heaviness of sleep overcoming him and turned his head. The last thing he saw before succumbing to the dark was his son’s sleeping face.