"Well, Severus," Albus's eyes were twinkling at him from behind his desk in his ornate office, "What are your and Harry's plans for the rest of the summer?"

Snape resisted the urge to sigh, surprisingly, it didn't take much effort. Over the past month, he found that it was easier to not be irritated by the boy. He and Harry had left the Dursleys two days ago, and their relief at being gone was nearly tangible. When they'd returned to his quarters, they'd both collapsed silently into chairs and remained there for several minutes without speaking or acknowledging the other. There was a chance that if the boy hadn't been there Severus would have cried in relief. Instead, after a few minutes of companionable silence, he took the boy with him to the kitchens to get sandwiches. Fortunately, the child didn't ask why Professor Sprout was making them.

"Harry wants to meet his grandparents. Then he's going to spend the last week before school starts with the Weasleys."

He left out the part about how he'd agreed to go school shopping with the Weasleys and Grangers. He still didn't know why he'd agreed to that. Nothing good could come from spending an afternoon with the five Weasley children and the Granger girl. He also had no doubt he'd end up as a translator between the Grangers and Arthur. Purebloods and muggles spoke two different languages half the time, and the muggles would no doubt be confused by Arthur's obsession with plugs.

He still needed to tell the boy that he no longer had access to the Potter vault. Snape technically had sole access to it now that guardianship had been transferred (he tried not to be too happy about how James Potter was definitely spinning in his grave). He'd removed a small percentage of the funds but had the rest held in trust until the boy turned thirty. He was fairly sure that bit of information would lead to a tantrum.

"His grandparents?" The surprise in Ablus's voice didn't sound genuine. And the smile wasn't completely hidden behind his long white beard. "Really? I didn't think you were close to your parents?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably before repeating, "Harry wanted to meet them."

Albus smiled, knowingly. Snape shouldn't be surprised. In some ways, Albus Dumbledore was incredibly perceptive. Although Snape didn't speak of his parents often he'd told the Headmaster more than he'd told most. No doubt the older man had pieced together enough to understand his relationship with his parental units better than he did.

Snape glared. Obviously, he wasn't going to enlighten the old man about what he had already surmised.

"I noticed a few unusual owl deliveries during your last week with the Dursleys. Pomona received a most unusual basket with an assortment of objects that can only be described as ‘sandwich-making supplies.' While Filius received a box full of fuzzy slippers in various colors. And I've never seen Minerva laugh so hard, as when she opened a package filled with cat treats, some sort of mechanical device, spray paint, and a picture of a vandalized muggle automobile."

"Very unusual, indeed, Headmaster." Snape kept his face blank.

The Headmaster lost some of his twinkle, "In all seriousness, Severus, how are you and Harry getting along?"

"We've..." Severus paused, "Come to an understanding."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, in what might have been disapproval or disappointment. "An understanding?"

Severus crossed his arms and smirked, "You didn't expect us to come back from Petunia's holding hands and cuddling together on the couch, did you?"

"I suppose not," Albus agreed, but Severus could hear a trace of suspicion in his voice.

Snape decided to change the subject, "I requested that Madam Pince send some books to the Dursleys. For research. Once I found out that Harry was a Parselmouth."

Albus's head snapped up and in that one unguarded moment, Snape knew this information confirmed something for the older wizard.

"Am I correct in assuming, Albus," Snape watched the Headmaster closely, "that Harry's mind contains a Horcrux? One made by the Dark Lord."

"His name is Voldemort, Severus," the Headmaster corrected gently before they both lapsed into silence.

He swore he could feel the Headmaster's eyes boring into his soul. Occlumency shields be damned the man must have some other way of knowing the inner workings of the mind. He maintained eye contact refusing to break the Headmaster's gaze. Eventually, Albus looked away. Severus saw in every line on the elderly man's face the weight of guilt and loss and remorse and love.

Bloody fucking hell.

He wasn't prepared to deal with that. He was still trying to figure out his own shit. Not to mention managing the four-foot-tall trouble magnet he only discovered a month ago that just so happened to share half his DNA.

He would have to recommend that Arthur talk to Albus. Arthur would be able to help the Headmaster sort things out. Arthur was good at that kind of thing.

Bloody hell.

Snape knew that Dumbledore was well-intentioned. Albus was capable of wondrous forms of magic. His age and sharp mind had permitted him to learn more than most could even imagine. Yet, he often lacked even an ounce of common sense. (The terrifying thought that Harry and Albus had a lot in common was pushed from his mind faster than it entered). Severus did not doubt that Albus was capable of creating a wonderfully complex plan that would be years in the making. He'd probably been scheming since the night Snape had told him of the prophecy. But Albus wouldn't see the flaws obvious to anyone else.

Severus was Harry's father. He had not defied the Dark Lord as the prophecy stated. If Snape pointed that out Dumbledore would say something about ‘the world believing James was his father' or some such nonsense and twist the prophesy to fit what he believed. The Dark Lord had done the same with the prophecy. If he returned then he would probably come to the same conclusions as Albus.

After all, that's what people did with prophesies. They bent them to fit the situation and declared them true, and if enough people believed that the prophecy came true... then it was true.

Snape could feel a headache coming on. Instead of Arthur perhaps he should bring Minerva in on this situation. Maybe even tell her about the prophecy. He could just imagine her reaction... especially if he mentioned that Sybill had made the prediction. He tried not to grin at the image while he waited for Albus to speak.

The Headmaster broke the silence, "You must realize the ramifications of this, Severus."

"Turning Harry into a Horcrux was an accident. A mistake, caused because the Dark Lord had already split his soul too many times." He took a breath before giving voice to his terrifying conclusion, "There are others out there."

Albus only nodded in response.

"Harry can live a happy life never knowing there is one in his head." Severus narrowed his eyes at Albus, he feared that he finally knew a key element of Albus' plan. Moreover, Snape knew he would never let that plan come to fruition. Even if it killed him. "And many, many, years from now when he dies of old age the Horcrux will die with him."

"Severus, my boy, su-"

"No!" Severus snapped with a furious overprotectiveness that caused the Headmaster's eyes to widen in surprise. "I will find the other Horcruxes. I will find them. I will destroy them. Either you'll help me or you won't. But you will not sacrifice my son for some greater good. You don't have that right any more than the Dark Lord has the right to kill indiscriminately."

The silence sat heavily around the room. Even Fawkes stopped his gentle preening to peer closely at Severus. Eventually, Albus's gentle grandfatherly voice whispered, "Your son, Severus?"

"Yes! My son!" Snape didn't care that he was losing his temper. He wasn't a person to raise his voice, but he bit the words out in a sharp hiss that resembled an angry viper. "I won't let you sacrifice him." He paused for a moment and continued in a quieter and slower tone. He wasn't defeated and the fight didn't leave his words, but they held a contemplative note. Not unlike one he'd heard Dumbledore use upon occasion. "You'll have to kill me first, Albus. But before you do, consider the irony that Lily was killed by Voldemort's hand while she protected Harry. And you'll have killed his father for the same reason."

"I could never do that, Severus," He could hear the Headmaster's age in his words. Hear the exhaustion and the heartbreak. He'd would have to send Arthur over as possible. "Retrieving the other Horcruxes will be dangerous. I do not recommend you do so alone."

Snape forced himself to take deep breaths. "I'm sure you already have several people in mind to assist."

Albus continued as though he hadn't heard the statement, "This will not kill him, Severus. What's left of him is still out there. And there will always be people willing to help him come to power."

"Didn't you tell Harry at the end of the school year that as long as he is delayed again and again then he may never come to power?"

Albus smiled slightly. "Harry told you of our conversation, did he?"

"The boy never shuts up."

Albus chuckled, a light twinkle returning to his eyes that put Severus' mind at ease for the time being. "Yes, and like his father once he sets his mind to something he doesn't stop until he's achieved it. Regardless of the difficulty of the tasks or the risks involved."

Severus glared but accepted that Dumbledore at least understood that the role of his spy had changed. Albus knew that Snape was unexpectedly inserting himself and wouldn't be made to sit on the sidelines.  

"Allow me some time to factor in these new circumstances, Severus. We'll talk again once the school year starts. For now, enjoy the rest of the summer with your son."

Without replying Snape left the Headmaster's office and made his way down to his quarters. It was a shame that Flitwick was off visiting family for the rest of the summer. Severus could use the man's ability to simplify the multitude of thoughts bouncing around in his skull. At the moment, the only thing he knew about Harry's future was that he would do anything to ensure his son had a future.

The walk to the dungeons didn't take long. He'd almost prepared himself for the difficult task of explaining to the child that he could no longer buy anything he wanted whenever he wanted. Almost.

When he got to his rooms, he opened the door anticipating that the unsupervised child would have recked havoc in the time he was gone. However, he could not have anticipated the sight that greeted him. His eyes widened in surprise even as his wand instinctively appeared in his hand.

He was not prepared for this.

A battered and bruised non-Hogwarts house elf wearing a filthy pillowcase was talking with his son.