James smiled at his beautiful wife. "That's great news, Lils!" And it was; he was going to be a father! But then a small, nagging thought came to him . . . 'What of it doesn't look like me? What if it's a girl?' James personally wouldn't mind having a little girl, but . . . He had been raised a Pureblood, the sole heir to an Ancient and Noble House: An exceptionally open minded Pureblood, true, but still a Pure-blood. His first born had to be a boy, and one that looked like him . . .

Of course, there was no way, bar potions to guarantee that any particular child would be a certain gender and since Lily was a Potions Adept, she'd catch him at it if he tried to use one. However, there was an old spell, one that had been a part of Pureblood society for aeons, that ensured a child would look like the father . . . True, it was a glamour of sorts, and therefore not exactly permanent, but it was practically indestructible. Only Old Magick could break it; things like sacrificial magic and wards, or phoenix rituals, things that were dead and forgotten, and even if by some insane joke of Fate that did happen, it would at least leave the child more sensitive to magic,increase their own dramatically and make them become magically functional at a much, much younger age. To James, that was a good thing, since the more magically powerful the child, was the better. His mind made up, James nodded to himself and made his way to the library, kissing his wife on the cheek as he left. He entered a portion of it that only someone born to the Potter line could access and reached up to grasp 'Spells of Inheritance and Succession'.

James smoothed down Lily's hair, having tossed a light sleeping spell on her from the door, then cast the Inheritance spell on his wife. "A parvulus per abbas visio," he whispered. Literally, 'A child with the father's face.' and it would make sure that any child Lily bore would look like the father. Smiling softly, James put his wand on his bedside table, and slid into the bed next to her, content. He could not know that 18 months after the birth of his son, during a night of horror, his wife would drain every ounce of magic from every object and ward for nearly three miles in all directions to place a Sacrificial Blood Ward on their son in a frantic bid to save her child's life. Old Magick. Nor would he, in the land of the living at least, see her shock as their son's face changed before her eyes, just before she died.

Fade to Black

Anne bit her lip. "It's number Four . . . P-something Drive. It's only a few streets away, though. I know where it is, come on."

Severus rolled his eyes, but complied, following her through the cookie-cutter rows of houses, through an alley, and onto a street called Privet Drive. The street name was vaguely familiar to him, though he couldn't for the life of him remember why.

"This one's it!"

"Well, considering that up ahead there is only forest, I would be inclined to believe that this is the correct street."

Anne just snorted at him and rolled her eyes, walking forward to the house with a big brass 4 on the door. Severus followed her, only to be stopped by . . . a ward? What the bleeding blue blazes was a ward doing on a Muggle house? And the thing was hardly even there . . . Probably a Wizarding family used to live there, and were lazy in lifting thier wards. Snarling, Severus brushed it aside and made to catch up to Anne, who was already knocking on the door.

Considering that it was barely seven in the evening, Severus was unpleasantly surprised that the male of the house, a large, beefy, pink-faced walrus of a man, was in entirely too small boxers and an under-shirt. Severus rolled his eyes as the man began blustering at them, and didn't bother repressing his smirk when Anne handed him the folder that was the notice of removal for the other boy in the house. The walrus man was turning puce, and yet the colour was almost completely drained from his face . . . it looked like a potion gone wrong. Or a poison gone right . . . Bah.

"A Child Welfare Technician will be by no later than 10 AM to remove your son from the household, Mr. Dursley. Good-bye."

Severus full-out smiled at the man, which caused a curious squelching sound as his boxers were slowly stained yellow. Severus raised an eyebrow and turned away from the man. "Where do we go now, Miss Blythe?"

"Anne, or I'll snatch you bald. And I need to check up on Harry, so the hospital. Which means walking all the way back to Gran's . . . Damn it. Hey, is there some sort of magical way for you to just have us pop over there? Without being accosted by old women?"

Severus slowed his gait and looked at Anne shrewdly. "Some sort of . . . what?"

Anne gave him a 'are you truly that stupid' Look. "You're a wizard right? Well, it there a way to just pop from place to place?" Seeing that Severus was still staring at her incredulously, she huffed loudly and threw her arms up. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Sev! Your family knows you're a wizard-ma-callit, and old ladies' gossip, and little girls listen at keyholes because they know that they're not to do so. I've known that one mister Severus Snape is a wizard since I was seven. Now is there a way to get us there or not?"

Severus stopped his excellent imitation of a land-stranded catfish and nodded slowly. " . . . It's called apparition . . . " If she was a squib, or a witch, or even a spy of some sort, then he could Obliviate her so long as he kept his magic at the ready. He'd have to play this by ear, though, until he was certain of anything.

He grabbed her close to him and spun on his heel, and in a moment, they appeared a block or so away from the hospital. They got permission to see the boy, and made their way to room 6-13U.

Inside there was a bed, various Muggle medical things, and a small boy, maybe three or so at the most, hooked up to quite a few of them. There was a light on, and he was sleeping.

"Hullo, Harry," Anne whispered, stroking the child's hair, obviously not caring that he probably couldn't hear her. "I hope you wake up soon. Your relatives, the Dursleys, they aren't going to be around you any more. You never have to go back to them again, nor shall you have anything to do with them. Isn't that great? I hope you heal quickly, Harry. I suppose I should go now, though; my friend Severus and I have to get back to my Granny's. See you soon, love."

She got up and smiled at Severus. "I hope he wakes up. He's a lot better though, now. His bones are mostly healed, at least."

As they made their way to the door, there was a soft groan behind them.

"Mum . . . Dad?" Came the small child's voice. Severus turned to see the boy blinking blearily at them with . . .

Lily's eyes.

God damn it, this was Potter. Anne shook her head at the boy, Severus still coming to terms with the fact that this child was the Boy Who Lived, the only child of his best friend and his worst enemy.

"No, Harry love, we're not your parents. I'm Anne Blythe, and this is my friend Severus Snape. I'm your Social Worker, and Severus and I came to check on you. You've been here quite a while, you know. The Dursleys, your relatives, they're not going to be your guardians any more. Not yours or Dudley's. You'll go to an orphanage, or be adopted, or there's foster care. Now, I'm going to get the nurse, tell her you're up, okay? Maybe you can talk to Severus for a bit," Anne told the child softly, trying to keep from overwhelming the poor child, but still tell him what was going on.

Potter nodded slowly, and turned to Severus as Anne closed the door. "Are . . . are you sure you're not my dad? 'cause I know my dad had black hair . . . an' you do too, an' . . . nev'mind, sir, I'm sorry . . . "

Severus sighed. As much as he positively loathed anything Potter, he wasn't going to let the brat beat himself up over wanting a real, a proper family. He couldn't count how many times he'd wished for the same as a child. "No, child, I'm not your father. You are Harry Potter , correct?"

The boy nodded, slowly.

"Your Aunt . . . her name was Petunia?"

Nod.

"I grew up with her and her sister, Lily. Your Mother. Would you like me to tell you about her?" Hopefully hearing about Lily would influence the child to be more like the mother than that arrogant arse of a father. He eased himself onto the edge of the narrow bed and began to explain.

This, it seemed, was shaping up to be a long night. Good-bye sleep . . . .

As Severus talked, the boy inched closer and closer to the man. By the time Anne got back with both the doctor and two nurses, since the man had been making rounds when she'd arrived at the duty station, the tiny boy was half curled 'round the quietly speaking man. He paused, looking up at Anne, "Perhaps . . . Anne, would it be possible for me to gain custody of Harry? Lily was a friend of mine, and I feel I owe it to her, seeing what has happened. His mother was a very close friend and I won't leave her son at the state's mercy when I can take care of him." He snorted, ruefully, thinking 'Besides, if I do not Pomphrey will kill me if Dumbledore doesn't. And that's only if my grandmother doesn't beat them to it.'

Anne smiled and nodded, "Now why did I know you'd volunteer something like that, eh?" She asked softly to no-one in particular. Not a one said anything in answer.

Severus continued telling The Potter Brat...Harry... about his Aunt Petunia's failed attempt at teaching the swimming instructor how to swim rather than actually pay attention to the swimming lesson. Soon, though, he and Anne had to leave. Though, Severus found himself . . . reluctant . . . leave the boy. But this was Potter's child. The only saving grace in him was Lily as his mother.

Besides, the boy should never have gone to the Dursley's. Lily had told him, just days after the child was born, that she and James had agreed that if they died, the brat would go to Black, if he was unable to care for Potter's child, then to the Longbottoms, then to him, Severus, then to Selene Malfoy, now Lovegood. How the child got to the Dursley's, Severus didn't know. Though it smelled rather like Albus' work. Should he tell the old man about it? There was the Prophecy, after all . . . No, it didn't really concern Albus. Not really. Maybe he should let the boy meet Selene. Didn't she have a daughter, after all? He smoothed down Lily's child's hair, and got up, moving toward Anne.

He did not want to like the brat. He did not even like him. He only offered to care for him because of Lily.

And only for her.

TBC