4.

After this conversation Snape didn’t press him any more to move in with him. Probably, the man told the Headmaster about Harry’s other confession, because even the old man left him alone, for which Harry was extremely grateful.

He needed time to think, to ponder.

He wasn’t so sure he didn’t want to move in with Snape.

Snape – who was his relative. Shocking revelation, but entirely understandable now. Harry asked himself many times what he’d done in Snape’s place. Could he love the offspring of Draco Malfoy and – for example – the daughter of Dudley? He couldn’t answer his own question. But he was almost sure it was a ‘no’ rather than a ‘yes’. Especially if that boy was like Malfoy. With Dudley’s eyes... Harry shuddered with disgust.

He almost came to terms with Snape’s previous feelings.

But it didn’t make his present situation easier. Could he be anything more than a walking reminder to Snape? Could the man overcome his memories to accept – Harry, just Harry, not James Potter’s son, not Perseus Evans’s grandson, just Harry, a mere boy without a second thought?

“I will always be like my father. And I will always have my mother’s eyes,” he once told Snape, who looked at him in mild shock in return.

“I know that. Why?”

“Why would you want to see my face outside the school year as well?” Harry asked. “Why would you want to face those memories I raise in you?”

Snape massaged his temples in clear distress.

“I’m afraid you now raise other memories in me than those you’re thinking about.”

Harry looked at him questioningly.

“When I look at you I remember my behaviour towards you and its consequences. You almost died. Those other memories are... too old to nurture. You’re not like your father. You’re more like your mother, and she wasn’t responsible for the fact that my father loathed me. I hated her without reason. I was wrong.”

They both fell silent.

“I see,” Harry said later.

That night he couldn’t sleep. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t give him any more Dreamless Sleep potion, she said that even his possible nightmares would help him to cope the previous events, so Harry just lay with open eyes staring at the shadows, which were dancing on the ceiling in the dim torch-light.

He was clueless. Dumbledore didn’t want him in the Headquarters before the 23^rd of August. Snape on the other hand wasn’t a spy any more, so he could watch him properly. His relation to Lily Evans gave Harry the proper protection. And Harry didn’t hate him any more.

Was that enough to feel at home with him in a house?

Harry smiled. Well, he never loved the Dursleys, or more so: he hated them. But somehow, Privet Drive had been his home for almost fifteen years. This side of Snape, on the other hand, was much more sympathetic than any side of his aunt and uncle. Perhaps it would work. They didn’t like each other very much, but they could tolerate the other. If Snape gave him food and proper clothes he would grow to be more of a family than the Dursleys had ever been. And if the man stopped humiliating and ridiculing him in front of his classmates, even Hogwarts would become a more supportable place. Perhaps even Malfoy would stop harassing him...

Harry stretched himself and let his eyes fall shut.

Let’s give it a go, then.

They moved into Snape’s house the day before Harry’s birthday. Snape came to fetch him from the hospital wing. Harry couldn’t see anything with him, just a quill (it was supposedly a Portkey) and a little bag.

“I don’t have any clothes, sir,” he smirked apologising and waved his hand over his pyjamas.

“Here you are, Potter,” Snape said. “Take them. I hope they’ll fit you.”

To Harry’s embarrassment Snape pulled a set of typical wizarding robes out of the bag: a pair of pants and large robes – both were green with gold patterns – but they fit Harry properly. There was a pair of comfortable shoes as well.

“I’ll pay for them,” Harry looked at Snape, but the professor shook his head.

“As long as I’m your appointed guardian I should provide you with clothes, dwelling place, meals and the required school things as well.”

“The Dursleys never paid for my school stuff.”

Snape shrugged.

“Well, I will,” he said. “Your other things are in my house with your owl.”

“How is she?” Harry became more vivid.

“Excellent. The Dursleys set her free after you disappeared. They didn’t even dare throw out your things until they wouldn’t get any news from you. I guess they didn’t want to enrage your godfather – they naturally didn’t know about him...”

“I didn’t have enough time to tell them. The evening I got home...” Harry stopped and his face darkened, “I got there,” he corrected himself, “they told me I would have to go to an orphanage for the next two years. I tried to tell Aunt Petunia that it would be a disaster for me, but she was so scared about her family that she didn’t listen.”

“I know, Po- Harry. I talked to them yesterday. I told her about,” he rolled his eyes with disgust, “our relationship. I mean that she and I are siblings. She nearly blacked out. His husband seemed so shocked with my revelation that he couldn’t utter a word as long as I were there.”

Harry imagined the whole scene and smirked widely.

“It’s a pity I couldn’t be there,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my uncle wordless. What did Dudley do?”

“I told him I’m his uncle. He grabbed his butt, squeaked and fled upstairs,” Snape furrowed his brows. “I understand that he was scared of me, but why did he hold his arse in his hands? I surely don’t look like someone who... er... molests whale-like overgrown babies!”

Harry choked out a laughter.

“Oh, no. I SHOULD have been there!” he cried. “To miss such a good sight!” His smirk grew even wider. “But don’t worry, he didn’t think you to be a rapist. It’s just...” he stopped and cast a serious glance at Snape. “You won’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you, will you?”

“I won’t,” Snape swore and became more curious.

“Hagrid once wanted to turn him into a pig, but he was unsuccessful with the transfiguration. He only managed to give Dudley a pigtail. It had to be removed with medical assistance. Since then Dudley is terrified of wizards...”

“But that accident didn’t improve your acceptance by your family,” Snape added darkly and Harry had to agree with him.

“Well, it perhaps worsened my situation,” he confessed and gulped. Perhaps, it hadn’t been such a good prank as he’d thought before. Suddenly, another embarrassing scenes came to his mind: the twins’ trick on Dudley, or their idiot way to free Harry from his room with the flying car – they could have asked their parents for help instead, Harry’s own play to turn Aunt Marge into a ball, his blackmails with the murderer godfather and even the way the Order members had taken him away last summer... These accidents were stages on the way, which had led to Aunt Petunia’s renouncement; Harry saw it very clearly. But many of those events weren’t his fault! And he was just a child for God’s sake! Harry collapsed to the bed, the new robes in his hand.

“Perhaps I’m really an idiot, as you always stated,” he said very quietly.

A little hint of satisfaction crossed Snape’s face, but it passed away quickly.

“I think we, the adults around you are more to blame than you,” he said finally. “Now, put on these robes. I don’t want to stay here until dawn.”

When Harry finished dressing, Snape cast a mirroring charm and Harry watched his own reflection with satisfaction. He seemed undoubtedly a wizard, and an adult wizard at that, only his wand...

“Er... I think we should go back to the Dursleys, sir,” he turned to Snape who looked at him questioningly.

“Why?”

“My wand... It was under a...”

“I’ve found it. Here you are,” in Snape’s outstretched hand lay Harry’s wand. He reached his hand tentatively toward it. “Take it.”

“I...” the words got caught in Harry’s throat as the smooth piece of wood slipped into his grasp. He felt his hand, arm, body warmed with the touch. “Thank you, sir. But... how did you find it?”

“Summoning charm,” Snape said simply. “May we go then?”

“We may,” Harry nodded and pocketed the wand. To his astonishment there were a lot of pockets in the robe.

“It’s a wizarding robe, Harry. It has to have enough place for the necessary wizarding equipment, like wand, portkeys, emergency potions and such things.”

Harry nodded. He felt as if he was in the ‘Introduction to the Wizarding Society’ class.

“Let’s go,” Harry sighed. Here followed a brand new part of his life. The part, which had been always denied him. A proper wizard-life.

“Let’s go.”

Snape’s house wasn’t bigger than the Burrow, but it was more precisely constructed. From the outside it seemed nothing extraordinary: it was a little, two-floored cottage in the centre of a small and rather untidy park. But Harry had the same feeling he had had when he first saw the Burrow: he found it beautiful. The park wasn’t large, but full of old trees, the passages were half-covered with various kinds of plants and flowers, the bushes were tousled.

“I’m sorry, I had only one house-elf to help and he was too busy cleaning up the house,” Snape apologised when he saw Harry looking around scrutinising in the park. Harry turned to him.

“How do you mean you had a house-elf to help? Don’t you have a house elf of your own?”

“No, I don’t. A creature, named Dobby, however, seemed enthusiastic when I asked the Hogwarts’ elves for help.”

“Is he still here?” Harry smiled.

“No, he isn’t. He was here only for two days then he returned to Hogwarts.”

Harry felt a hint of disappointment, but the other new experiences made him forget about Dobby soon. The cottage was wonderful, not rich and overstuffed, but modest and showed the good taste of its owner. The pavement was made of coloured stones in the kitchen and the entrance hall, but in the other rooms there was parquet, highly polished. On the first floor Harry found the kitchen, the living room, which served also as the library and Snape’s laboratory.

“This is my room,” Snape opened the first door on the second floor. It was simple and cosy: a bed, a night table and some wardrobes. “And this is yours.”

Harry stopped in the doorway with astonishment. The room was... was like the room Harry always wanted to have: a four-poster bed, a large desk with a comfortable chair, bookshelves, a wardrobe, another armchair in front of the fireplace, rugs on the floor... It was perfect.

“Do you like it?” Snape sounded tense.

Harry stepped in unsurely.

“Is it... is it really mine?” he looked around slowly.

“It’s all yours.”

A sudden thought occurred to Harry.

“It’s a pity I have only one and a half summers to have it...”

“It can be yours as long as you want,” Snape’s expression was stunned. “I won’t kick you out after graduation...”

Harry stepped to his trunk to check his personal things. The trunk was empty.

“Your things are in the wardrobe, Potter,” Snape said guardedly.

But in the wardrobe, it wasn’t Harry’s stuff. At least, the clothes were all unfamiliar.

“These...” Harry began, but Snape interrupted him.

“I left your rags at the Dursleys. I’ve bought some robes in Diagon Alley, but I think we’ll have to buy some more soon. I didn’t dare to buy you muggle clothes, because I didn’t know the size you wear.”

Harry turned around and looked at Snape again. The man was leaning on the doorframe as he watched Harry exploring his room.

“I invited your friends, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger for tomorrow,” he said suddenly.

“What?” Harry gaped with serious shock. “You – what?”

“Tomorrow is your birthday. And they wanted to see you anyway once they learned that you’re alive.”

Snape’s expression was unreadable, but Harry could sense precisely the amount of effort lying behind this offer. Snape didn’t like his friends, at least as much as the Dursleys didn’t. But he had invited them nevertheless.

“But this way they will know about... us, and about the things you wanted to keep secret,” Harry said softly.

“I don’t want to keep it secret,” Snape shook his head slightly. “But, of course, if you want...”

“Why would I?” Harry asked surprised.

“I’m still the man I was,” he said and turned to leave. “Lunch at 12 sharp,” he added and left.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind, then continued to explore his new world.

He found the bathroom with Snape’s – and supposedly his – items (he couldn’t imagine the red and gold towels could be Snape’s), and he returned to the room and sat on the bed. In his new bedroom almost everything was new: the bedclothes, the bookshelves (with some illustrated and definitely new Quidditch books), the rugs on the floor, the desk, not to mention the robes... Harry had to confess that he really hadn’t imagined this. When Snape had offered for Harry to stay with him, Harry thought that he would receive a small, impersonal guestroom to spend the necessary amount of time there, or Snape’s second bedroom... but he hadn’t thought the man would try to give him a real... well, home. Sitting on the bed, for the first time since Snape had made his offer, Harry was sure he would be able to call home the place he was going to live.

At 12 sharp Harry made his way towards the kitchen. The meal was already steaming on the table.

“Who cooked it?” Harry asked curiously.

“Me,” Snape said.

“You,” Harry smirked. “I couldn’t imagine you cooking.”

“I’ve been living alone since my mother died. I learned how to care for myself,” Snape snapped.

“But... that was long ago,” Harry mumbled.

“That was fifteen years ago,” Snape nodded.

“And you...” Harry himself didn’t know what he really wanted to ask.

“I’ve never married.”

“You never had a family,” Harry couldn’t help but shudder.

“It’s none of your business, Potter,” Snape said coldly, but this time, Harry sensed the pain and the resignation behind this sentence.

“I never had a family either,” he said and sat down.

As they were sitting facing each other, waiting for the other to say something Harry felt the remainder of his dislike disappear to be replaced by a mix of curiosity and respect.

“I don’t hate you,” he blurted out and blushed.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

“It will make our situation easier to bear,” he said with a little hint of sarcasm.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I can see that you’re still the man you were,” he grinned. “But I want to thank you nevertheless, sir.”

“What for this time?”

“For my room. It’s wonderful.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Snape said a little dryly. “And no need to call me ‘sir’ as long as we are here. You can call me by my name.”

Harry froze. This couldn’t be happening. Snape was offering to let him use his first name?

“We are related, Harry,” Snape said accentuating the last word.

“We were always related, professor, but you never offered a first name basis before.”

Even Harry could feel that that was a low blow, but it was already out. Watching Snape’s expression closely Harry was sure for a moment that the man would erupt. But the man finally shrugged.

“I see your point,” he said finally. “You don’t have to call me Severus, if you’re uncomfortable with the idea.”

Harry sighed and leaned back.

“Sorry. I didn’t intend to be rude. I’m just too confused, Severus.”

The man’s eyes stared at him widely.

“Well, I...” he babbled, but Harry interrupted him.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Severus.”

Snape blushed.

“Home?” he looked at Harry intensely.

“Home,” Harry nodded.

For a long moment the time seemed to stop.

“Welcome home, Harry,” Snape whispered, and both of them felt as something around them adjusted itself, as the sacrifice of Lily Evans, which once saved her son’s life now stretched over both of them: the unwilling brother and protector, and the slightly confused, but nevertheless happy boy. “Welcome home.”

THE END

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