A/N: Howdy peoples! This one's a long one . . . There was a lot to cover to get to the point, and hopefully it went well :) I did my best to keep Snape from going too OC, because its not a situation I'd usually have Snape in . . . diverts from cannon a bit. Enjoy!

Story 2

Summary: Dursleys die during Harry's second year. Snape, realizing Harry had no one else to take care of him, finally pushes for guardianship of his son, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Harry got the news Sunday before dinner. He was starving because he had missed lunch, and McGonagall and had stopped him from going into the Great Hall, asking him to follow her, so he wasn't in that great of mood already. The fact that McGongall was leading him to Dumbledore's office put him into worse of a mood. What did I do now? Harry wondered. It wasn't bad enough most the school thought he was the Heir of Slytherin?

"Harry, please sit," the Headmaster said when they entered, and Harry sat cautiously.

"Sir?" he asked. Dumbledore looked sad. It was odd, seeing that when Dumbledore usually looked amused.

"Harry, we've had terrible news," Dumbledore said, and Harry felt his stomach to turns. Did it turn out that they weren't going to be able to cure Hermione? "Your relatives – your aunt, uncle, and cousin – were in a car accident yesterday. I am sorry, but they died before help arrived."

Harry stared at Dumbledore. The Dursley's were dead? He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel right then. Sadness, he supposed, but he couldn't find it in himself. He didn't think he was happy, at least.

"Oh," he eventually said, because it looked like his professors were expecting a response. Then it hit him. The Dursleys were his only family, as awful as they were. "Er – where am I going to go in the summer, sir?"

Dumbledore and McGonagall looked confused, but Dumbledore spoke up. "We will be looking into that, I promise. But for now, you are excused from classes for the week, although you will be expected to learn the material. The funeral is on Saturday; one of the professors will be bringing you."

"You don't have to go through the trouble, sir," Harry said, too fast. Again, his professors looked confused, and McGonagall shook her head.

"No trouble at all, Harry."

"You can go along to dinner, then, Harry," Dumbledore said, and Harry left to go eat.

Severus got the news during the Monday morning teachers meeting: Potter would not be in class because his relatives had died in a car crash. That added to his awful mood from earlier, when the fourth year Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw class didn't comprehend the instructions for the potion and nearly blew up his classroom.

He wasn't particularly saddened by the news; he had known Potter's aunt, Petunia, yes, but had found her awful as a kid, and doubted she was much better in her older years. The problem was the Severus knew that Petunia was Lily's last living relatives, and James Potter had no more living relatives, which left the boy without a home.

Most would wonder why Severus Snape – hater of Harry Potter – would care that the boy now had nowhere to go, but those were the people who didn't know that Potter had been adopted. Didn't know that the boy's birth father had only found out he existed because of the death of the mother and, a young Death Eater trying to impress is Lord, didn't feel capable of raising a child. At the time, he had found himself backed into a corner and out of desperation had contacted Lily. He had begged her to take the boy. Even offered to brew the potion that would make him look like their child.

There were only two other people who knew the child was his: Albus Dumbledore and his wife, June, and the file was sealed at the Ministry: No one could see it without approval from the adopted parents – now dead – or Severus. Severus looked up from the table to find Albus looking at him pointedly: they would talk after this meeting.

There wasn't time to walk to either of their offices before the next class started, but Albus closed the door once everyone else had left.

"Severus," Albus said. Severus merely stared at the headmaster. He wasn't sure what to say. "He has no one, now. It's time to tell him."

"I have to talk to my wife," Severus answered, leaving and heading toward his classroom. He wasn't sure what he expected. Yes, the boy was his son, and yes, he had vowed to keep him safe, but it didn't mean he liked the boy, and he gave no reason for the boy to like him.

He flooed home that evening, his three children greeted him as he walked through. "I must talk with your mother. Where is she?"

"Kitchen," said Atticus, the oldest of his two boys said. "Are you staying?"

"No, I must get back. We'll talk later." The children looked sad, but they were used to him not being there much during the school year. Perhaps he could have been a little less short with them, but he was not much in the mood for having a conversation with anyone, especially the one he was about to have with his wife.

June was just as surprised to see him and knew something was wrong instantly. She knew Severus well, even when he cleared his mind and pretended nothing was going on.

"Potter's relatives have died," he stated flatly, getting to the point.

"Oh," she said. They stood staring at each other for a few minutes, and Severus wondered if they ever would actually have his conversation; each time in the past, it had been hypothetical, and they had never come to a conclusion as to whether they would take the boy had the need arose. June sighed. "I suppose we really should take him, Severus. He is your son."

"Yes," Severus said in a flat tone, but didn't say anything more.

"I'll get the records. You'll need them at the Ministry." Severus waited in the kitchen, aware that they still hadn't really had a conversation about it.

Harry waited in Dumbledore's office for someone to take him to the Dursleys' funeral. They were having all three on the same day, and Harry was glad that he'd only have to go once, but wasn't happy that they were making him go. It wasn't as if anyone would want him there, anyway.

Harry's eyes widened when it was Snape who showed up. Snape didn't say anything much, though, just ushered him through the floo.

"The funeral home is down the street," Snape said, helping Harry to his feet when he arrived, nearly stepping on Harry. "We will walk there."

Harry followed Snape, and he couldn't help but think it was odd that Snape was wearing muggle clothing. When they arrived, a lot of people were already there, and Harry looked around, not seeing any one he knew. Not that the Dursleys ever let anyone see him.

It was shortly after they arrived, Harry uncomfortably sitting next to Snape near the back of the room, when his Aunt Marge came into the room and saw Harry. They locked eyes for a second before she came marching toward him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, and Harry looked down at the floor. "Don't expect anyone here to take you in, boy, just because Vernon and Petunia were nice enough to take you."

"Enough," Snape said next to him.

"And you are you?"

"I am an escort from his school," Snape said coolly, and Harry looked between them, wondering how this was going to turn out. Aunt Marge hated him as much as Snape did.

"Ah," said. "Taking care of the brat real good, right? Must know how to keep those criminal boys in line. I suppose there's a place for orphan delinquents like him?"

Snape was interrupted from answering by someone walking between him and his aunt and talking with her.

"Can we go now?" Harry mumbled, but Snape seemed to have heard him.

"Yes."

They flooed back to Hogwarts, but Snape told him to floo directly to his office instead of Dumbledore's. Harry looked back at him suspiciously, but did what he said. At least Snape wasn't making him stay at the funeral.

"Sit," Snape said when they arrived and Harry did, although reluctantly. Snape sat at his desk, across from Harry, and seemed to hesitate before sliding an envelope across the desk. Harry eyed it before looking up at his professor.

"I don't suppose anyone had told you the the Potters had adopted you?" Snape asked, and Harry felt his jaw drop. Of all the things that Snape could have said, Harry was not expecting him to say that.

"No . . ." Harry said slowly. He looked at the envelope again. Did that mean he still had parents out there? And why hadn't anyone told him before? But he supposed if the Dursleys knew, they wouldn't have taken him in.

"Open the envelope," Snape said, and Harry eyed the man cautiously and he opened it and pulled out the papers inside. There weren't very many; the top one said Adoption Certificate and listed his name, along with Lily and James Potter. Harry felt a pit in his stomach as he flipped to the next paper. Birth Certificate it read on the top and Harry had to force his eyes to scan the paper.

Mother: Aniika Rowly it said, and next to it . . . Father: Severus Snape.

Harry looked up at the man sitting in front of him. This had to be a joke. The man's face was impassive, though, and Snape certainly didn't look like he was joking. "Who is Aniika Rowly?" Harry asked, his voice coming out barely a whispered.

"Your birth mother died in childbirth," Snape said slowly. "I was . . . unable to care for you and the Potters agreed to adopt you."

Harry just stared at Snape for a bit. He didn't know which thought was affecting him more: the fact that Snape was his father, the fact that the Potters weren't his parents or the sickening fact that his birth father hadn't wanted him.

"You knew?" Harry finally asked, surprising himself.

"Yes," Snape said. "After the Potters died, I was assured that you would be taken care of by Lily's sister and assumed you would be happy." Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape. Happy with the Dursleys? They hated him. Even with the knowledge that Snape was Harry's most hated professor at Hogwarts, Harry was sure that if Snape had come to take him from the Dursleys before he had started Hogwarts, Harry probably would have gone with him. Even if the man had insulted him.

Harry still wasn't quite sure what this meant. Snape didn't seem to be willing to talk first, so Harry forced himself to talk. He tried, his voice getting caught in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"So . . . I'm going to live with you?" Harry asked. At least his voice was louder than before, even though it was shaky.

"Yes," Snape said. "Because you were adopted, we had to go through a process of adopting you, but as I am your birth father, the process was simple."

"We?" Harry asked, flipping to the third paper. Adoption Certificate it read. It had Snape's name and someone name June Snape and . . . Harry James Snape.

Harry felt his heart give out, and he was glad he was sitting as he slumped into the seat.

Snape changed his name to Snape. Of course it makes sense, a voice in the back of Harry's head told him. He's your father. You have somewhere to live now.

But he's never wanted me, Harry told the voice. He hates me.

Harry said goodbye to Dobby, ready to change out of his dirty, bloody clothes and go down to the Great Hall to eat when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.

Snape.

His father. And he looked furious.

Harry followed him without a word. The last time they spoke was when Snape told him the truth a couple weeks ago. It figured that Snape would be angry he saved Ginny's life.

Snape led Harry down a corridor in the Dungeons Harry hadn't noticed before and they entered a sitting room. Through one of the doors, Harry saw a bed, and Harry realized this must be Snape's private rooms. He turned to look at Snape, who was just as angry as before.

"Are you still hurt?" Snape asked sharply, and Harry shook his head.

"Fawkes healed me," he said. Snape threw him one of his robes and Harry barely had time to wonder how Snape got it before he pointed toward the bathroom.

"Get cleaned up."

Harry took his time cleaning up. He was too sticky to wash up in the sink – he tried – so he tried to work the bathtub only to have Snape come into the bathroom with Harry half naked to fill the tub for him. He guessed he was making too much noise trying to figure out the taps.

It was nearly half an hour later that Harry emerged with clean clothes. He hovered in the doorway. Snape was sitting, drinking tea, a little calmer than he had been before.

"Sit," Snape said, and Harry sat in the chair across from his father. "What were you thinking?" Snape said sharply. "You could have very well wound up dead, along with your friend and professor. And no one would have known where you had gone." Harry didn't look up from his lap. Snape continued anyway, not waiting for an answer. "You will no longer run around, breaking every school rule you want. Professor McGonagall may be your Head of House and in charge of your punishments for school, but it will not stop me from setting additional punishments as I see fit. I don't know why your relatives seemed content to let you do as you please at school – because they obviously haven't been able to control you – but be assured, I do not take misbehavior lightly." It took a few moments for Harry to realize that Snape was finished.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered sullenly, wondering what his punishment was going to be for this . . . even McGonagall had said he had broke tons of rules.

"Go to the feast," Snape finally said, and Harry left without another look back at his father.

Harry took his time getting off the train at King's Cross. He had only just told Ron and Hermione about Snape on the train home. They both had urged him to send them as many letters as possible so they knew he was okay. Ron seemed sure that Snape would murder him, and it was annoying that he had to convince him that since Snape was his father, he couldn't kill him. He could punish him a lot, but he wouldn't kill him. Hermione had mostly sat there with a thinking look on her face. That was nearly as annoying as Ron's reaction.

Snape was waiting for Harry right outside the barrier. As quickly as possible, Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys before catching up to Snape.

"I'll tell you later," Harry heard Ron tell Mrs. Weasley, and Harry sighed. He had a feeling that soon, everyone would know. The teachers were still calling him Potter, but he didn't know if any of them knew, except McGonagall and Dumbledore.

Snape led Harry down the platforms into a room on the far end of the building before stopping in front of the fireplace. He handed Harry the floo powder and Harry waited to hear where they were going.

"Snape Manor," Snape said. "And say it clearly. There are no other floos nearby and I don't want to be chasing you across the country."

"Snape Manor," Harry said as clearly as he could before stepping into floo. By the time Harry reached the right fireplace, Harry felt like his heart was stopping and he was having trouble breathing. He had no idea what to expect on the other side of the floo. He guessed that Snape was married, if the adoption certificate was anything to go by, but he had avoided Snape as much as possible and hadn't had the nerve to ask. Some Gryffindor, Harry thought as he spilled out of the fireplace face first, coughing and breathing in ash, making him panic more.

"Relax," someone said to him. A woman. "Sit up, relax." It was another few seconds before Harry realized he wasn't breathing. The lady seemed to realize that, too. "Breathe, Harry, you're fine."

"What's wrong?" Snape asked.

"He's panicking, Severus." Within seconds, a potion was being forced down his throat and another few seconds, Harry felt himself calm down. It was a hazy calm, but at least he could breathe.

"He can face a fully grown basilisk, but can't take the floo," he heard Snape mutter.

"What?" the woman asked, and Snape shook his head.

"I'll tell you later." More relaxed now, Harry found himself on the floor with the two adults staring down at him. They didn't seem to know what to say, either. "Where are the children?"

"In their rooms. They've been very excited all day."

"They would be," Snape said as he helped Harry up.

"Hi," Harry said when he found himself face to face with the lady.

"Hello, Harry," she said kindly, and Harry smiled at her. No one said anything for a bit, and Harry shifted on his feet, feeling like he was intruding. Snape was the one who finally spoke up.

"This is June, my wife. Your adoptive mother," he stressed. "You will obey her as much as you obey me."

"I'll go call the children," she said and left the room. Harry watched apprehensively as three younger kids – two boys and a girl – entered the room, and Harry could only guess that they were Snape and June's children.

Which made them his brothers and sister. Well, half brothers and sister. Harry smiled again.

"Hi, I'm Atticus," said the oldest boy. "I'm 10, and I'm going to Hogwarts next year," he said. "And this is Justus," he continued pushing the younger boy forward.

"No pushing, Atticus," Snape said sharply.

"He's eight," Atticus said, looking guiltily at Snape, "and Aeliana is four."

The little girl came up to Harry and gave him a hug. Not sure what to do, Harry patted her on the head, saying, "Hello." The girl just hugged him harder. Harry found he didn't mind much.

Even if Snape didn't like him, everyone else seemed nice. And he had siblings. Harry found himself with a smile so big his face was beginning to hurt.

"You kids play for a bit," June . . . his adoptive mother . . . told them. Harry frowned, not knowing what he should call her. "Go outside. Dinner will be ready in an hour." Aeliana finally let go of Harry, pulling him by the hand through the kitchen and out the back door to a play set in a large backyard. The backyard was fenced in, but he could see that past the fence was all wooded.

"So, Harry," Atticus said. "What's it like at Hogwarts? What house are you in?"

"Hogwarts is great," Harry said. "I'd never leave if I was given the choice. I'm in Gryffindor, though."

"Oh," he said as they walked at a slower pace toward the swings. "Dad says I'll probably be in Slytherin." Harry didn't answer for a bit.

"That's okay," Harry said. "Just because we'd be in different houses doesn't mean we wouldn't be able to see each other."

"Do you have friends in other houses?"

"Not really," Harry said slowly. "I'm mostly just friends with Ron and Hermione, and they're in my house."

"But you're Harry Potter," Atticus said as Justus climbed up to the platform for the slide and sat down, facing them. Harry noticed he hadn't said anything yet. "You must have hundreds of friends!" Harry blushed.

"I don't know. I get along with other people, I guess, but I didn't have any friends until I went to Hogwarts. I . . ." Harry trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "My cousin was awful and his gang would beat anyone up who tried to be nice to me."

"Oh," Atticus said. Harry and Atticus sat on the swings, after Atticus helped Aeliana onto one. They swung in silence for awhile. "What's your favorite class?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said. "Well, sort of. The professors haven't been very good. I guess we did learn some good things from Quirrell, but . . ." Harry looked over at his two youngest siblings. Maybe they shouldn't hear that, Harry thought. "Lockhart wasn't very good. He removed the bones in my arm after I broke it once during a quidditch game instead of mending it. Kinda funny now that I think back on it, but at the time, it was the strangest feeling . . ." The other kids laughed. They played on the swings a bit before Justus jumped down from the platform and ran up to him.

"You're it!" he yelled and ran. Harry was confused a bit before everyone else started running and he understood, chasing after them. They ran around for a bit before they were called inside.

Harry found dinner awkward. Although they had fun outside with the other kids, Atticus kept asking questions about Hogwarts and stuff, and Harry had the feeling that adults didn't want to him talk about it, so he tried to answer as vaguely as possible.

Harry couldn't say they were mean. Even Snape seemed even tempered and calm and absolutely nothing like the Snape he had as a teacher, but Harry knew when adults didn't like him; he grew up with adults not liking him, and with a pang, he realized that his birth father and adoptive mother weren't happy he was there. As dinner went on, Harry's answers became shorter and shorter until Atticus stopped asking questions and Justus started talking about the frog he found under the bush when he was hiding.

After dinner, the other kids were sent outside to continue playing while his adoptive mother brought him upstairs to his room. Even with three other kids, there were enough rooms that Harry got his own, and he brightened a little bit when he saw it was decorated almost in Gryffindor colors – the curtains and the bed cover were a darker red color, and the walls were mostly gold with dark green swirls. Close enough, Harry thought and noticed his trunk was already there. The room was also bigger than his room at the Dursleys, and without all Dudley's broken toys, it looked huge.

"This is my room?" Harry couldn't help but asking. "Really, all mine?"

"Yes," June said with a smile. "All yours. You're expected to keep it clean, of course, like the rest of the children."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry said and went to open his trunk. He saw June leave and Harry looked around the room better. He had a desk and a wardrobe, a nightstand next to the bed and there were two empty bookshelves on one of the walls. Harry frowned as he looked into his trunk. He didn't have much stuff to put up, and the room was still going to look bare after he finished packing.

The next few days were okay. If he wasn't with his brothers and sister, he mostly stayed in his room. Part of him thought he was being stupid, but Harry studied his Potions texts when he had time to himself. He guess he thought that if he started to do well in Potions, maybe Snape wouldn't hate him so much. Honestly, though, Harry didn't think it would do much, but he couldn't help but try.

It was his fourth day there that Snape came into his room. He was sitting on his bed, trying to remember the ingredients of one of the potions and he didn't notice his father in the doorway for a few minutes.

"I was able to contact your uncle's sister, Marge Dursley," Snape said, startling Harry. "We will be going to your relative's house in half an hour to retrieve the rest of your belongings. Be ready."

"I don't think I left anything there," Harry said, really not wanting to go to the Dursley's house, even if they weren't going to be there. Snape just gave him a look and left. Sighing, Harry put his shoes on and continued reading until he thought it was close to half an hour – he didn't have a clock there, so he figured he should probably at get that from his old room – and went downstairs to find Snape. Snape and June were at the kitchen table.

"Harry, are you ready?" June asked, and Harry nodded as Snape stood up.

"I had the floo connected to the house for today, so travel will be quick," Snape said, leading Harry into the family room, where the biggest fireplace was. "Dursley's House will be sufficient," he said, letting Harry grab a handful of the floo powder. After all this flooing, Harry was beginning to think he'd be an expert by the end of the summer.

Harry did manage to land on his feet in the Dursley's living room. It was just as he remembered it, except his shoes were a little sooty and it made barely-noticeable marks on the light carpet. Harry sighed, knowing if his aunt where here, she'd be yelling at him.

Snape came through about a minute after him, and gave Harry a glare when he saw he was just standing there.

"Where's your room? I don't wish to be here all day." Reluctantly, Harry led Snape upstairs to Dudley's old second bedroom, where he picked up the taped up-alarm clock and looked around. Everything else in the room was Dudley's broken toys, and Harry hadn't any interest in any of them. "Well? Start packing what you want." Harry glared at the man, who obviously didn't want to be there any more than Harry.

"None of its mine," Harry said, angry. "It's all Dudley's broken toys." Snape didn't seem like he believed him, so Harry opened the wardrobe just to make sure he didn't leave anything in there, but – as he thought – he hadn't. When he turned around, he saw Snape staring at the cat flap Uncle Vernon had installed on the door. When he saw Harry still only had the alarm clock, he sighed.

"Surely you want more than that," Snape said, irritated. "Do you have anything downstairs?" Harry began to shake his head when he realized he should take a look in the cupboard under the stairs. He was sure he had gotten everything when they moved him upstairs, but maybe he had forgotten a picture he drew or some broken crayons he had stolen from Dudley had fallen under the cot. Curious, Harry made his way downstairs.

Harry opened the door slowly and peered inside, the cupboard left exactly as he remembered it, cot and spiders and all. Right away, he eyed the small blue blanket he had since he was little: he knew it was his, and his alone, because it had his initials – HJP – embroidered on the corners. He couldn't believe he had forgotten about it. He wasn't sure where it had originally come from, but he didn't care; he picked it up and hugged it to him as he sat on the cot and turned on the light.

Looking around, Harry saw it was exactly as he left it; his aunt and uncle hadn't touched it, a layer of dust and dirt from under the stairs covering everything. Briefly, he wondered if his relatives had wanted to move him back in there so left it as it was. Other than the blanket, he saw nothing he wanted.

Snape found him sitting on the cot, still hugging the blanket to his chest. Snape looked at it in disgust, and Harry realized it was rather dirty. He felt himself get red, but he didn't put the blanket down. It was only a few moments later when Snape seemed to realize what was in the cupboard.

"Why is there a cot in there?" Snape asked, and Harry shrugged, not really wanting Snape to know that the Dursleys had kept him there before he got his Hogwarts letter. He didn't want to give him ideas. He rather liked his new room. "Anything else?"

"No," Harry said. "I got everything before."

Snape ushered him home without another word except to put the blanket in the wash. Later that day, June took him and Justus to a clothing shop for new clothes shortly after they got home. Justus had nearly outgrown most of his current trousers and Harry had overheard June talking to Snape about the state of his clothes.

It was nearly midnight when Severus walked upstairs to check on his children before he went to bed. It had been a long month, and to top it off, the news – both muggle and wizard – was covered in warnings about Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban. Harry had seen The Daily Prophet the other day but thankfully hadn't recognized the name. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

Satisfied his youngest children were asleep, Severus noticed a faint light under Harry's door and opened it slowly, in case he had fallen asleep with the light on.

The boy was indeed awake, lying on his stomach the wrong way around in the bed, coloring on a bit of parchment. Harry looked up, surprised.

"Why are you still awake?" Severus asked harshly. The boy knew very well he was to be asleep by nine. He simply shrugged and Severus moved over to the bed to look at what Harry was doing. With a start, he saw that the boy had written Happy Birthday and had drawn a picture of a cake with candles. Quickly, he tried to recall what day it was and let out a breath when he remembered that the boy's birthday was tomorrow.

He cursed himself a bit when he realized they had almost missed the boy's birthday. As Atticus had several friends over a few weeks ago for his birthday, he knew Harry would put up a fuss if nothing was done. He quickly decided to mention to him at breakfast that he could choose where they would go for dinner that night. It was too late to invite the boy's friends over, and he didn't like the idea of having a gaggle of Weasleys in his house, anyway. Honestly, he was surprised the boy hadn't asked earlier.

"What are you doing?"

Harry didn't answer immediately, but Severus gave him a pointed look and he finally spoke up. "I like to wish myself a happy birthday at midnight. I always do it."

"You have plenty of time tomorrow to celebrate your birthday tomorrow," Severus said quietly. "Time for bed." Severus didn't push it, though; the boy's muggle clock read 11:58. He'd give him a few more minutes before turning out the light. He sat on the bed, waiting the few minutes out. Finally the clock read midnight.

"Happy birthday," Severus said. "Now go to sleep."

The next morning, Severus woke when June sat up in bed. He had slept uneasily, and the small movement nearly startled him awake.

"Severus?" June asked, sounding worried. It was rather unlike to him start. He sat up, giving up on sleep.

"Harry's birthday is today," he stated.

"And you're only telling me now? That doesn't really give us time to get him a gift."

"I forgot," Severus said sharply. "And I don't remember you asking." June sighed. "We'll take the children to dinner tonight, and let him choose where."

"That's a good idea. But that doesn't help with a gift. What does he like?"

They sat in silence for a moment while Severus tried to think what the boy would like for a gift.

"He likes flying. Quidditch. He plays for Gryffindor," Severus said, unable to come up with anything else.

"Well, that helps. I need to go to the supermarket today, I'll stop by Diagon Alley on the way back." She stood and started dressing. "I am surprised the children haven't said anything. I suppose he might have been too unfamiliar with us to ask, but they've all been getting along great; surely he said something to them, but they haven't said anything at all to me."

"He's not what I expected," Severus admitted, then paused, not sure if he should bring the point up without more proof. "I have a feeling his relatives didn't treat him as kindly as I originally thought. The blanket he had brought with him . . . he retrieved it from the cot in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Lots of people store cots in a cupboard, Severus," June said.

"It didn't look like it was being stored. It looked as if it was used as a bedroom." June didn't answer.

Harry bounded up to his room, happy for the first time in a long while. He had never had anyone to celebrate his birthday with him before, and now he had family that had given him gifts and he even got to choose the restaurant they ate at that evening.

It was nearing time for bed, but Harry wasn't sure he would be able to sleep, he was so excited. He couldn't wait until Hedwig came back from delivering his thank you letters to Ron's family and Hermione for their gifts, too, so he could tell them what happened. He didn't think Ron would believe that Snape had bought him birthday gifts.

The next morning, Harry was woken up to commotion downstairs, and Harry snuck down the stairs, in case something bad was happening.

"I finally got my letter!" Atticus yelled, dancing around the kitchen.

"That got here rather late," June said. "I was expecting the letters to come a week ago."

"I'm sure the Headmaster was having trouble finding a Defense professor," Snape said and then saw Harry. "Your school list is here, Harry." Harry started, not realizing anyone had seen him. He frowned for a second. He couldn't remember Snape ever calling him by his first name before. Usually, the man avoided calling him anything, although he was a bit more tactful about it than his uncle had been. Harry finally walked into the kitchen and picked up his letter and opened it. It wasn't much different than his letters from the last two years, but included was also an extra page. Harry looked up at the adults hesitantly. Mrs. Snape noticed the look.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Er . . . there's a permission slip for Hogsmede . . ." Harry said hesitantly. Snape come up to him and held out his hand; Harry passed it over before looking over it, although Harry was sure Snape probably knew what it said.

"We'll discuss this later," Snape finally said, folding it and putting it in his robes. Harry sighed dejectedly.

"When can we go to Diagon Alley?" Atticus asked.

"In a few days," June said.

It was only a week until school started, and neither of the adults had signed his permission slip yet. Snape had told him several time that they'd discuss it, but each time Harry brought it up, Snape snapped at him, but it was getting close to school and Harry really wanted to go.

Harry looked at the time; it was only two. He could usually find the two grown ups reading in the family room at that time, so Harry decided now was a good as any to ask again. He hadn't brought it up in over a week. That should be enough time, he thought.

When he got to the family room, he hovered outside the doorway. The rest of his family was in there, looking happy. Aeliana was sitting on Snape's lap, his arms around her in a hug, Justus was on Mrs. Snape's lap, although he looked like he was getting too big for that, and Atticus was sitting on the couch between them with a book in his lap. They were reading it, laughing.

Harry frowned, not really wanting to interrupt them. They never were like that when he was around, and Harry didn't want to intrude. Slowly, he took a few steps backwards before turning around and heading back up to his room.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon on his bed with his new textbooks next to him, trying to read, but he couldn't bring himself to do much but stare up at his ceiling. He only just realized that the sun had started going down; somewhere in there, the room had gotten darker. Harry was about to sit up and check the time when he saw Snape in the doorway.

"Too good to spend time with the rest of your family?" Snape said harshly.

"No, I-"

"Then why have you been holed up in your room all day?"

"I . . ." Harry shrugged, not knowing how to say how he felt, or even if he should.

"You've been told before that you were to not stay in your room all day. We haven't seen you all day," Snape said flatly, looking Harry over.. It's not as if anyone came looking, Harry thought bitterly. "If you are not feeling well, you need to say something."

Harry sighed and simply nodded before following Snape out for dinner. If Snape thought he was feeling sick, he'd let him think that.

Severus walked the corridors. Students had just arrived last night, and it was unlikely anyone was causing trouble yet, but he was first in line for the rotation this year. He rather liked the morning times instead of the evening. He was on the fourth floor when he heard students ahead, and he made sure he stayed out of sight. It was before breakfast, so he found it unlikely the students had any reason to be wandering the corridors.

"But you haven't said much in your letters," he heard the youngest boy Weasley say. "I mean, you've talked a lot about your sister and brothers, but not about Snape."

"I don't really want to talk about it, Ron," Harry said and Severus stayed where he was, curious, and on the edge of anger, not especially liking the direction the conversation was taking.

"You said it was good," Granger said. "Better than the Dursleys'. So what's wrong, Harry?"

"It is better than the Dursleys'!" Harry said.

"So, what's the problem?"

"Look, it's just . . . It's nothing. They're really nice, I swear."

"But?" Granger asked. Harry didn't answer at first.

"But they don't like me . . ." Severus held his breath.

"Why do you think that?" Weasley asked. "You said they celebrated your birthday, even got you all the Quidditch stuff!"

"I know when adults don't like me, Ron," Harry said. "I've had a lot of experience with that. Like I said, they're nice enough, but . . . it's the little things, like they'll get quiet if I say something, as if they pretend they didn't hear me, I didn't say anything. The Dursleys did that, too . . ." Severus took a slow breath in, something inside of him breaking. He hadn't realized . . .

"Maybe you just think they're doing that," Hermione said. "You're trying to compare them to your aunt and uncle too much."

The Gryffindors were silent for awhile and Severus turned around to walk away.

"I can't believe you have a brother in Slytherin," the Weasley boy said.

"I am sorry, but there's nothing I can do," McGonagall said. "You will have to talk to your father if you want to go to Hogsmede."

Harry watched as his Head of House walked away, resigned to asking Snape one more time if he would sign his permission slip. He still hadn't asked, so he thought that the man might have forgotten about it.

It was right after breakfast on their first full day at Hogwarts. He, Ron and Hermione had been up early and had been talking on the forth floor, not wanting anyone to overhear them in the common room. He didn't have anything first period, and wondered if his father had a class right now. He figured it couldn't hurt to go to the man's office and knock . . .

Ten minutes later, Harry stood outside his father's office, finding himself unable to knock. He finally managed to raise his fist when the door opened. Snape seemed surprised to find him there, and had an odd express on his face.

"Harry, come in," Snape said, his voice soft. Harry looked at him suspiciously, but went in. He went to sit down, but Snape transfigured a chair in the corner into a small sofa and led him there. Harry sat, and Snape sat down next to him. "Harry," Snape sighed, and Harry looked up at his father, wondering what was happening. "Harry, I know our history hasn't been smooth . . ." Harry felt his anger flare up. Hadn't been smooth?

"You've hated me the second I walked into Hogwarts," Harry said, unable to hide his emotions on the matter anymore.

"I didn't-"

"You wanted me expelled. You knew you were my father, and you didn't want me at Hogwarts."

"Harry-" Snape started.

"You never-"

"You being here was a reminder that I gave you up," Snape said forcefully, causing Harry to stop short. "And you were always finding yourself in trouble, if you would have just . . ."

Snape trailed off, and Harry stared at Snape, not knowing what to say.

"Harry, you have been through dangers that children should never be exposed to. Dangers that you should have never gone near, and it frightens me that the other children could be exposed to it, too . . ."

"I wouldn't let anything a happen to them," Harry said, his voice very tight. "I'd die before I'd let them get hurt."

"The point of it being you not dying," Snape said harshly before taking Harry's hands in his own. Harry shifted, uncomfortable. "Harry, I am sorry we've been distant. We did not intend to make you feel as if we didn't care . . . You are my son, Harry, and I will be here for you."

Harry froze when his father suddenly wrapped his arms around him and held him for a few moments in an awkward hug before the man wiped tears off his face he didn't realize he had shed. Harry wasn't sure what Snape meant, exactly, but maybe . . . maybe his father didn't hate him. He couldn't bring himself to look up at the man, though, and his father finally pulled his chin up to force Harry to look at him.

"The Dursleys did not take care of you well," Snape said slowly. He didn't say it as such, but Harry knew it was a question. He shook his head. "I am sorry, Harry." Snape lowered his hand and Harry continued to look at Snape as they sat in silence for awhile. The bell rang, letting them know it was the end of first period. "We'll talk later," Snape said. "Come to my rooms tonight."

Snape helped him up and started ushering him out the door, but a thought occurred to Harry and he stopped in the doorway; he wasn't sure if he dared. Turning around, his father was looking at him questioningly.

"Can I . . ." Harry paused, searching the man's face for something. "Can I call you Dad?" he finally blurted out. The man's expression turned confused.

"Of course, Harry," he said, then after a few seconds. "You need to get to class."

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Bye . . . Dad."