DISCLAIMER: My dog and I own nothing except an old car, some old clothes, the computer I'm typing this on, and a broken porch swing. Other people own everything else. J.K. Rowlings and others own all things Harry Potter. I'm merely borrowing them for the fun of it.

Author's Note: This is my first "Chapter" fic. PLEASE take a moment to review and honestly tell me what you think!

I will not post individual reviews for every chapter, but I felt it was time to express thanks and explain a bit. I promise not to put you through this often.

Moonfyre, Xtyne, Zachiliam, Starangel2106, Thethirdtroll, Padawan Jan-AQ, Badassgothicgirl, ERMonkey, Burner of Cookies, Debby Smith, Withineverydarknessislight, Abbie, Crystal, Prophetess Of Hearts, Crazy-lil-nae-nae, Ellsie, and Dark Lights:

Thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate them all. It's people like you who give me the courage to keep on posting. Yes, I intend to keep writing this story. I'm currently nursing muses through Miranda's third year at Hogwarts. Yes, she'll go there, have a lot of fun, and a lot of trouble. (Evil grin.) Harry will do the best he can to remain a good father, (though I'm not promising an actual adoption...YET!)

Spacecatdet, Insanechildfanfic, Otspock, and Hpz26:

Thank you so much for the review. It's people like you who give me the courage to keep on posting.

BamaRedneck:

You put me on your Favorites list. WOW! Thank you. I'm truly honored. :-)

Moghedien17:

What can I say? (blush) (blush). Thanks for the great reviews. I hope the story lives up to your expectations.

If anyone read Moghedien17's reviews and got a little confused, you need to check out her brilliant brainchild of a fic which we are currently co-authoring with redrosey. It is called "Emmilen." (Story id: 1888827). Even if you didn't read the reviews or get confused, also check out her other cool fic, "The New and Improved Koraleigh Snape." (Story id: 1825470)

Molly Morrison:

Thank you again for the permission to borrow 'you-know-what' and a big thanks for the long thoughtful review. WOW! I'm honored. I'm not sure if I succeeded in improving anything in this chapter, but I did look more closely at my characters, and I think that improved my thought about the chapter ten-fold, at least. Thank you again for taking the time to help me. I really appreciate it. You are one of my favorite authors. I wait most impatiently for every update to your story "Lies." I hope that someday my writing is as good as yours.

I was unable to find any reference on-line as to exactly what or who 'Mary Sue' was. I gathered though that it (she?) was something (someone?) I would not want to write about anyway. So I think you're safe with not finding Mary Sue in my fic.

Miranda really is a Legilimens. Her skills as a natural-born exceed both Dumbledore's and Snape's. But she is only seven years old. So, while she has access to her phenomenal powers, she doesn't quite know or understand what she gets from the adults in her life and she only thinks things through on a seven-year-old's level. So whatever she says may or may not be accurate information.

Dumbledore also has a trick or two up his sleeve with regard to Harry as a "father." But then Fate also has a trick or two up its sleeve for Dumbledore. Let's just hope Harry leaves the poor man's office intact this time. OOPS! All I can do is quote Hagrid, "I prob'ly shouldna have told yeh that!" (Very Big Grin!)

And last, but in no way least...

Shelly101:

You managed to pick up on what I was so abysmally attempting to demonstrate. Harry is now trying to change his behavior to demonstrate a proper role model for Miranda. Though I don't promise that he will always succeed, but then what parent is 100 percent perfect all the time? The first night he was trying to deflect his uncle's anger to prevent more injury to the little girl. You're very perceptive. :-)

Thank you for reviewing. I really appreciate it and it does give me courage to keep on posting.

Thanks again to all and God bless. Randi.

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Harry Potter and the Child Legilimens

Randi Weasley

SUMMARY: Harry Potter's family was warned by the Order that they should give him better care this summer. That clearly meant more free time and nutritious food. But, when Uncle Vernon throws a seven-year-old daughter into the equation, it's a roller-coaster ride wilder than any Gringotts' cart could provide. Rated PG for some mention of child abuse.

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Last Time:

'Was my dad an outstanding auror?' Harry wondered. 'Did I really score an 'O' on my Potions OWL?' 'What did Professor Snape mean when he said part of the way he treated me had to do with the Dark Lord?' 'What...?'

Sitting there beside his sleeping daughter, Harry Potter's body finally gave in to the exhaustion and he slept, leaving the only alert figures in the garden the auror standing guard over the boy and the tabby cat hidden in the bushes.

'You did it, Harry!' cheered Minerva McGonagall. 'I knew you would. Oh, Severus will be totally livid when he shows up to request you in his NEWT class and finds out that you've been enrolled since the end of last term. He just hates it when I outguess him. Maybe I won't tell him that I've already enrolled you in the class. I'll let him think I'm doing it at his request. Yes, that's better. Anything else will just be my little secret."

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Chapter 3

Interrogator Snape

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Albus Dumbledore paced from his office to the revolving escalator and back again. Where had the confounded woman gotten to this time? He couldn't believe that she had snuck out that noon to go to Privet Drive. Now here it was past midnight and she was missing again. He disliked the idea of disturbing Harry's guard to ask if she were there. Who knew if the guard were needing to operate under stealth for the moment or even if their location were secure? No, he decided, Minerva McGonagall would have to take care of herself. He knew, of course, that she was perfectly capable of doing so but had still worried about her since her return to school from St. Mungo's. But where could the confounded woman be? His thoughts went on for some time in that vein.

Finally, at 2:30 AM, the ward he'd placed on the gargoyle sounded. The tabby cat had bypassed the security statue and was currently sneaking up the revolving stairs. Really! After thirty-eight years of wedded bliss, one would think the intelligent deputy headmistress would know better than to pull that old stunt on him! Their marriage might have to be kept secret from all but a few close friends, however, even if they weren't husband and wife, Minerva should know better than to expect to get away with that! Striding to his office door, he flung it open in a fit of pique and stood at the top of the stairs awaiting the cat.

"Good morning, Minerva."

"Mew," came the reply.

"No, I do not wish to know where you have been. I am merely much relieved to see you've safely returned as I can now go to bed with a clear mind."

Turning around, he headed for his office but was stopped by the woman's voice behind him. "They do not even have blankets, Albus. The child was being covered with a towel Harry had nipped from the bath."

"You went into the house while the Dursleys were there?"

"Of course not! Harry brought the girl into the garden and Kingsley suggested that next time he bring a blanket too. Harry was rather distracted and replied that they had none."

"Distracted? Why was Harry distracted? Wait a minute. Kingsley suggested? The guard is to remain silent except in an emergency. Shouldn't an experienced auror know that?"

"Albus, Harry asked, almost begged, the guard to speak. He said he had a problem he needed to solve before Miranda awakened. It was the same as this afternoon when he asked me to come closer out of the shade. He—he's like a different boy since he left school for the summer. I can count on one hand the number of times in the past five years I've known him to ask anything for himself. Now I've heard him request help, of his own volition, twice in one day. He asked Severus to resume the Occlumency lessons as well, and I know that you were gearing up to do battle with him on that. Also his patience with the Dursleys far surpasses any amount of which I believed him capable."

"He asked Severus to resume the Occlumency lessons?" Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age and the world's most difficult man to shock, seemed to have been reduced to echolalia by the latest surprise revealed in this amazing conversation.

His wife could not hide her delighted smirk as she dropped the next bombshell. If the man wanted to greet her at the stairs and treat her like she would treat an errant student, well, then Dumbledore just deserved whatever she could manage to dish out. And, oh! This was going to be good!

"He did. Furthermore, Severus agreed."

The headmaster's voice took on a high-pitched squeal of disbelief that Minerva only heard about once every decade and no one else heard at all. "Severus what?"

"He agreed. He also congratulated Harry on getting on 'O' on his Potions OWL. Plus, he stated that Harry would make an outstanding auror like his father."

'Where was Colin Creevy when you needed him?' Minerva wondered. It was quite vexing not to have a camera to capture the bug-eyed expression on Albus' face. He'd never admit to it without proof later. She was just glancing around the corridor searching for something to transfigure into a camera when her husband succeeded in pulling himself together, albeit with extreme difficulty. "Honestly, Albus," she stated then. "I'm wondering if that child doesn't have the both of them bewitched."

"You would know best about that, Minerva," laughed Dumbledore with a mysterious smile.

"What are you babbling about, Albus?" snapped McGonagall impatiently. "You know I'm not a Legilimens!"

"This does not fall within even Miranda's considerable powers of Legilimency. It is more like the power you used on me over forty years ago."

"Really! What...? I assure you, sir, that I never—"

"Oh, no?" queried Albus, twinkle back in his eyes. "How else do you explain a loony old coot like me falling for the prettiest witch of them all? I'm talking about love, Minerva. Both you and the child possess that ability in spades!"

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Meanwhile, Severus Snape was lying awake, musing on the change in his relationship to the Gryffindor Golden Boy. How young Potter treated Miranda had been one of the major factors, he decided. 'His bloody git of a father would not have done half of what he's done for the girl, and I know the Dursleys did not teach him that attitude growing up. So where did he learn such loving compassion with the pathetic role models he's had? Could he have inherited his mother's compassion even if he was so young when she died? Or are his past experiences making him that way? A desire to treat others as he wishes to be treated perhaps? A fear of hurting people as he has been hurt?' There could be many possible motives. Severus knew he would never be able to think of them all. "At any rate, it's been the saving of the girl," he muttered into the darkness. Then, deciding that was all that mattered at the moment, he rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly.

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In the garden of 4 Privet Drive, Harry was awakening to another eventful day. He once again carried the sleeping Miranda into the house and up the stairs. This time, however, she awakened as he dodged the noisy tread.

Setting her down on her cot, he stated simply, "If you're not tired, why don't you dress quietly before our breakfast arrives. It's a good idea to dress for breakfast sometimes."

"OK, Harry."

Dobby was so ecstatic at finding Miranda awake and dressed when he brought the food that Harry had to beg him to quiet down so he wouldn't awaken the Dursleys. After Miranda had swallowed her Strengthening Draught, Harry gave her another reading lesson while they waited the half-hour for the potion to clear her system.

She was quite excited at the discovery that she could already read fifteen words independently. She wanted to inform Professor Snape of that fact immediately, so Harry promised that after breakfast Miranda could borrow Hedwig to deliver a letter to the Potions Master. He secretly hoped the man would not respond with a Howler. It was mostly this thought that led him to suggest that Miranda begin the missive by thanking the man for letting them study out of his son's book.

Harry spelled out the words and Miranda covered an entire parchment writing in shaky capital letters:

Dear Professor Snape, (Here Harry had to explain what a comma was and teach the girl how to make one.)

Thank you for the book to teach me how to read. Harry counted and I can now read fifteen words. Thank you too for telling me how I could learn to read just fine. Harry said to thank you for the blankets too. I like mine a lot and the pillow too. I gave Harry his pillow back, so now we both have one.

Love,

Miranda

They had a long discussion about whether or not to sign her whole name but decided it was not necessary since Professor Snape already knew her.

The letter also led to a discussion of homonyms and the spellings of 'to,' 'too,' and 'two.' Miranda found this quite fascinating and they were still discussing it when they went downstairs to fix breakfast for the Dursleys.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were just entering the kitchen when Miranda started jumping up and down in excitement. "I thought of another one, Harry! 'Which' and 'witch!'"

Before the teen could so much as open his mouth to reply, Vernon Dursley had crossed the room to the child's side. He backhanded her up the side of her head with enough force to send her flying backward into the door of the kitchen broom cupboard. Her temple struck the metal handle and started to bleed profusely. Her body went limp and she crumpled to the floor.

"Don't you dare to discuss that unnatural freakishness in my house again, do you hear me, girl?" he bellowed.

Miranda did not move or speak, but Harry fled to her side with a cry of outrage. "No! Miranda! She wasn't discussing 'm-word' things. We've been studying homonyms. W-H-I-C-H and W-I-T-C-H are homonyms. If you've killed her, I swear I'll hex you into the next century. I don't care if they expel me for it! I—I'll hex you into oblivion even if it means I'll get thrown into Azkaban for life! I'll—"

The kitchen door exploded from its hinges with a bang that left the ears of the room's occupants ringing. First through the opening was Minerva McGonagall, wand in one hand and upraised walking stick in the other. She was followed closely by Tonks, neon-green hair curled tightly against her scalp, her normal fun-loving expression transfigured into that of a very angry auror. Last, but certainly not the least, to enter was one livid Potions Master.

"What have you done to this child?" demanded Tonks in a voice that booked no argument.

Severus had gone to kneel beside Miranda. He examined her temple and checked her pulse, then, grasping Harry's shoulders in both hands, gave him a rough shake. "She is not dead, Potter," he stated in his sternest tone, "but she has been rendered unconscious and most probably has a concussion. While that is serious, it is not life threatening. Listen to me, boy. She needs Madam Pomfrey. Will you consent to Hogwarts' medi-witch examining your daughter again?"

"Yes," fairly screamed Harry in a tone that mixed both hope and frustration. "If she would see Miranda, that would be wonderful! I—I'll pay her—and you—and everybody. I'll get a job, maybe two of them even, and I'll work really hard too. I'll—"

"Take care of your daughter, Harry?" suggested Tonks, coming over and laying a supportive hand on his shoulder. "She needs you with her now, not off somewhere trying to find a summer job. Let us handle what we can while we're willing to do it. You've time enough after all the dust has settled to worry about finding gainful employment."

'Gainful employment,' thought Snape darkly. 'With the entire Potter fortune waiting for him to come of age, he is carefully saving the galleons in his trust fund and talking of taking jobs to raise money. Has no one told the boy that, as Potter's only living heir, he is one of the richest personages in the wizarding world? But, of course not! The boy didn't even own a blanket to cover his daughter. This is shameful! He's the ruddy Boy-Who-Lived after all. He's supposed to be living the life of a pampered, spoiled brat. He—"

Severus' thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey. While the nurse rushed straight to Miranda's side, Dumbledore headed for the Dursleys.

"P—pro—professor," Petunia stuttered.

"I want you unnatural freaks to get out of my house!" Vernon bellowed in his face.

"I'm very much afraid that your desires are secondary to the children's safety, Mr. Dursley," Albus replied. His tone, while civil enough on the surface, held a trace of warning that could rival Snape at his most dangerous. His anger radiated throughout the room.

Petunia had scurried to cower by the sink. "Let them alone, Vernon, please," she whispered fearfully.

"No!" Dursley bellowed. "I refuse to be intimidated anymore, especially not in my own home. It's too much! We took the boy in and kept him for ten years, and we pick him up and bring him home each summer. Since he heard about this coot's bloody school, there's been nothing but trouble. First there was that giant bloke who crashed in on us at midnight, put a pig's tail on own son, then stole our rowboat, leaving us stranded in the middle of the ocean. Later the boy returns with that lot of unnatural freaky things and a ruddy owl who hoots, caws, and delivers mail in front of the whole neighborhood. How freakish is that I ask you?

"The next summer the boy does some freakish hover thing and my biggest deal of the year is destroyed. Not only is the dessert ruined but an owl appears and attacks the client's wife who is deathly afraid of birds. The man even thought I'd set it up! When I rightfully try to punish the boy for that, he is whisked away in the wee hours of the morning by a flying car, which takes part of our house along with it. Then another business deal is ruined when a ruddy owl lands on our table and starts helping itself to the food on our plates. Unnatural freakishness just to inform us that the boy had detention for taking the flying car to school, and, if we wished to communicate with the boy, we could use the bird, the one who was currently helping itself to the dearest cuts of meat the butchers had to sell.

"The next summer we have Marge bobbing on the ceiling, and a whole squadron of freaks invade our home and mess with her mind so that she forgets the incident. That year the boy returns from school and tells us he has a convicted murderer for a godfather. The man, he claims, had recently escaped from prison and is on the run but wants to keep close tabs on how the boy is doing.

"After that, some ruddy bloke and his sons get stuck in our fireplace and blow up half our living room getting out. Just as they're finally disappearing in those freaky green flames, Dudley's tongue grows meters long and starts flopping around on the floor. You can't tell me that's a natural occurrence! Then a ruddy owl comes with an invitation for me to leave my job and travel to that freak school myself to watch him compete in some unnatural thing.

"Last summer, the dementoids attack our son and owls start arriving from everywhere. The boy tells me the dead freak who killed his parents has come back to life again and doesn't refute the idea that the ghost is after him! When I try to throw Potter out and protect my family, another owl invades our home to deliver a screaming envelope to my wife.

"This year the boy has, not only a murderous godfather but also a whole freaky gang who meet us at the station and threaten our health and safety. Now our kitchen door is blasted halfway across the room, and you all stroll in uninvited and most certainly unwelcome. Now you may all leave the way you came and fix the bloody door too!"

For a moment, there was silence following Vernon's rampage, and then Albus spoke calmly. "I must apologize to you, Mr. Dursley. I was unaware of the pig's tail. I shall speak with my gamekeeper about it upon his return to school after the holiday. I shall also be certain that you are reimbursed for any expense that cost you."

Vernon seemed slightly appeased, but only slightly.

"I shall also," continued the headmaster, "fix the bloody door if the magic of doing so will not further upset you."

"We—we need our door fixed, Dear," commented Petunia.

Dumbledore used Dursley's distraction with this comment to fix the door unnoticed.

"Where are we taking the children, Albus?" asked Poppy. "How far she is traveling will make a difference in how I treat the girl now."

"She is traveling upstairs to her bed," replied the headmaster. "We can't move Harry at this time, and there's very little sense in moving the girl alone. It would only further traumatize her."

"That is true," said Harry quickly, when he noticed the nurse opening her mouth to argue. "She panicked last evening when she awakened while I was down here serving dinner."

There was a momentary silence before Snape stated in his snarkiest tone, " I believe caring for a child with a congenital illness is enough to keep Potter busy this summer. I promise you, if the child is not cared for because you had Potter busy doing other things, as the child's healer I will have you hauled up on charges so quickly that you won't know what happened before it is finished." He leveled his most menacing glare on the Dursleys.

"S—Sev—Severus?" gasped Petunia, turning pale.

"So you remember, do you, Mrs. Dursley?" The Potions Master's voice sounded truly dangerous then. This child has the same disorder as Little Sal. My potions are managing the symptoms and permitting her to live. If you Muggles jeopardize that in any manner, I will go out of my way to personally assure that neither of you see daylight for a long time to come."

Noticing Vernon's surprise, he continued, "Your wife's sister was a dear friend of my wife. Lily tried to help distract Anyn from her all-consuming grief at the death of our infant son. Your wife met mine several times before her death. Anyn dragged me to Lily's wedding and Lily dragged Petunia to Anyn's funeral. One of the last projects my wife undertook before her death was to attempt to help your wife plan Lily's bridal shower."

Everybody was staring at the Potion Master then. Only Albus had known of this information beforehand, and Tonks had not even known of the marriage. Harry opened his mouth several times as though he wished to speak only to close it again just as quickly each time. His eyes, bugging out of his head, gave him a definite resemblance to a fish out of water.

Severus stared back at the boy. Finally he asked in a defeated tone Harry did not think the man capable of, "Well, what is it, Potter?"

"Er," replied Harry. "You—er—knew my mum? After she graduated Hogwarts, I mean. No—no one's told me of my mum before, sir. What did she do before I was born, please?"

Minerva McGonagall spoke up then, before Severus could formulate a reply. "I suspect that's because you grew up living with her sister, Harry. I'd always assumed that you heard more about your mother than your father, so I spoke of James to try to balance things out a bit."

"The only things I've heard about either of my parents in this house were that they were killed in a car crash and my father was an unemployed sloth who lived off the charity of others. Hagrid told me before my first year how Mum and Dad really died though."

"Your father," spoke up Madam Pomfrey, in a gentle tone, "was a brilliant auror who saved my life as well as many other lives in the last war. Your mother had a remarkable gift for wandless healing, as well as charms. She was training to be a healer when she became pregnant with you. Then she decided to take a break from training and devote herself to motherhood. She was just as talented at that as at the other things."

"My mum was a healer?" Harry was amazed by this news.

"She was training for one," Severus replied then. "We were apprenticed in the same program at St. Mungo's. My wife met your mother at the Christmas party our first year. They were always dreaming up some way to get James and me to become friends, so we saw a lot of each other after that. The hospital had your mother give several talks and demonstrations of her wandless healing. Her powers were really amazing. The masters often told the rest of us apprentices that the only person known to have more power for wandless healing is Albus Dumbledore. Many people tried to talk her out of leaving the program, but she was insistent that her more important responsibility was to her child. Little Sal had died only a little over a year before and my wife, Anyn, three months later. She worried about hurting me when she expressed that belief so openly to the group, but I admired her for that."

"Mum had powers like Professor Dumb—" Harry began, but stopped when Miranda opened groggy eyes with a moan. "How are you feeling, Mite?"

"My—my head hurts a lot, Harry."

"Poor dear," murmured Poppy. "I'm sure it does." She handed over a cloudy blue potion. "Swallow this and it should start to feel a lot better."

Severus helped the child prop herself up against the offending door, and she obediently swallowed the potion before closing her eyes again.

"If—if she has a concussion, shouldn't we keep her awake?" Harry asked tentatively.

"The concussion is healed. Sleep is what the child needs most now," Pomfrey assured him.

Severus gathered the girl into his arms. "Where is her room, Potter? I will see her safely in bed and be certain that you have the necessary supplies for her."

For a moment, a look of terror crossed Harry's face. He had always hidden as much as possible of his life at the Dursleys'. Now his most-hated teacher, the person he least wanted to show weakness in front of, had invited himself to Harry's bedroom where one glance around would surely tell all. This man, while a mean and nasty git, was far from stupid. Harry had little doubt that none of his carefully guarded secrets would survive this day. Professor Snape might be acting in an extremely mellow manner about Miranda, but Harry felt he'd best not trust that to cross over to himself, especially after his return to Hogwarts when no other adults were watching and Snape had the Slytherins to back him with their gloating. After all, the only time the Potions Master had been around him this summer without another adult present was the night of Miranda's arrival and Snape had still reverted his snarky self, even in front of Dumbledore, once he'd gotten over the initial shock. Yesterday afternoon, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore had both been present and last night in the garden, Snape must have known Kingsley was there, albeit hidden under an invisibility cloak. Miranda needed supplies though, the git had suggested, and Harry was sure he could not get them from the Dursleys. So the man must come to his room. Harry would just have to make sure that he didn't figure out much.

"Er. OK. She's sharing my room. This way please, sir."

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Upstairs, Harry watched nervously as Snape eyed the multiple locks on the door before turning a bemused gaze on the cat flap. The locks were somewhat self-explanatory, but why would the Muggles have a cat flap on his bedroom door and no others? Severus had not missed either the hesitation or the fear in the boy's eyes downstairs. That made him even more certain than before that something besides breakfast and blankets was missing in Harry's life. He was determined to find out what was needed and supply it, if it were at all in his power to do so. Anyn and Little Sal would want as much, he knew. Also he'd been correct in saying Lily Potter and Anyn Snape had become the dearest of friends, and Lily had done all in her considerable powers to try to help both his wife and son. That seemed to imply some debt on his part, and Harry was the only Potter left alive to receive payment.

"Potter, if you have an owl, why are you permitting the cat such easy access to your room?"

"We don't have a cat, sir," stated Harry in embarrassment, hoping that would end the conversation.

No such luck however. "But you do have a cat flap on your bedroom door."

"I didn't put it there!" snapped the boy desperately wishing this professor had never seen his door.

"Has it always been there then?" Snape was not giving up. Something was definitely amiss with this flap, and Potter's stubbornness would not keep him from finding out what that something was.

For a moment or two, Harry was sorely tempted to lie and say that he'd inherited the room with the flap in place. If this were Tonks, Madam Pomfrey or even Professor McGonagall before him, he knew he'd get away with it too. But Snape was too good a Legilimens. He'd have the truth anyway and probably make Harry's life very miserable as punishment for lying to him.

"No, sir, it was installed after my first year," he admitted reluctantly.

"Ah," nodded the Potions Master. "Would that be before or after you were whisked away in the Weasleys' flying car?"

"Er. Before, sir."

"And when did the door acquire all these locks, Potter? You hardly seem the type to be so paranoid over protecting your possessions."

Harry did not appreciate the way this conversation—no, he corrected himself grimly—this grilling was going. He was definitely going to have to get himself out of the situation and the sooner the better. Rather despondently, he realized the fastest way to do that was to anger the man before him. He only wished it were safer than he feared. Well, no time like the present to begin.

"Are you awake, Mite?" he whispered gently. Receiving no answer from the limp form in the man's arms, he judged it safe to assume he would not be overheard as he replied in cool anger.

"Since when do you know what type I seem, Professor Snape? You've hated me ever since I first arrived at Hogwarts. You never miss a chance to bait me, give detentions, or take House points. You constantly criticize my father while telling me how much like him I am in all the bad ways. I know you apologized and said none of that should have happened, but here you are baiting me again, sir. How can you expect me to seriously consider your apology if you are back to your same behavior less than twelve hours after giving it? For your information, sir, I would never behave like I saw my father do, not even with Draco Malfoy. I might be my father's son, but I am not my father, sir. S—Sirius even said how I was different from James Potter, though he found that a big disappointment. But, while you've spent a lot more time around me than Sirius had, you never noticed that, Professor. I realize, as my godfather, Sirius had more incentive for doing so, but I doubt you even bothered to try at all. I repeat, therefore, how would you know what type of person I am?"

Severus mentally kicked himself. He had slipped back into the behavior of which the boy was accusing him. However, it seemed to be the only way to get a true conversation started with the Gryffindor. But the boy's tone would reduce him to cold anger much too quickly to gain any information. He therefore adopted a cool tone of his own as he responded. "I might have revised my opinion of you, Potter, but I still will not permit you to address me in that tone. I am an adult and your professor, two very good reasons to show respect. Now, after Miranda is put to bed, we may quietly continue this discussion privately in your room or publicly downstairs with the others. The choice is entirely your own."

"I have no desire to continue this—discussion—at all!" snapped Harry. That was the honest truth! Snape had only noticed the locks and cat flap so far and Harry was already panicked that the man knew too much.

"That is not your choice to make, Potter. We members of the Order wish to ensure your safety and well being. Therefore, I will ask my questions and you will answer in a respectful tone and to the best of your ability—limited as that may be."

Harry's eyes flashed. The git was truly insufferable! Then a horrible thought entered his mind. Snape had sent a Howler to Miranda's father when the man had requested his help, even when he thought Miranda had died because of it. Harry desperately needed this man's potions for Miranda, and he even more desperately needed this offer of supplies, whatever they might be. The Dursleys certainly had offered nothing. If he angered the Potions Master too much, mightn't the man withdraw all help and potions? Miranda would surely die then. Therefore, he forced himself to respond in what he hoped was a civil enough tone, even though the words were pushed out through a tight jaw and clenched teeth. "Fine. We will—discuss—things in my room as long as Miranda is asleep. When she awakens, however, the—discussion—is finished, whether you wish it to be or not, sir."

Once inside the room, Snape took in everything at a glance: the lack of space, broken toys, rickety furniture, and absence of linens on the worn, lumpy mattresses. He had already seen the condition and size of Harry's clothing.

The teen motioned for him to lay Miranda on top of her cotton throw, and then he covered the girl with the one from his bed. "Thank you for these blankets, Professor," he whispered, before quietly setting his desk chair at the foot of his bed.

"You are welcome, Potter. I only wish to see what else you have need of," Severus responded. "This is not meant to harm you in any way."

With a nod, Harry motioned him to the chair then before crawling onto his bed and leaning against the wall, facing the professor.

"The locks on the door," Snape prompted, after a moment's silence. "When did they appear?"

"Around the same time as the cat flap, sir."

"I see. You did not request them, I gather."

"No," Harry replied with a rueful smile. "I did not request them, sir."

"So you have been imprisoned here before." It was not a question.

"Yes, sir."

"And the part of the house the Weasley twins tore away with were the metal bars which used to be on your window."

Harry, who had been studying his bare toes, glanced up in surprise then. How had the Potions Master known about that? "Yes, sir."

"When were the bars put up?" Severus' experience as a spy was the only thing permitting him to calmly continue this discussion. What he felt like doing was screaming in rage. No one except Molly had believed the story the Weasleys' youngest three boys told of that night. Now it seemed the brats had been correct after all.

"At the same time as the locks and the cat flap, sir."

"After the dinner party with the paranoid woman your uncle spoke of downstairs?"

"The morning after, sir," Harry nodded.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" the man invited gently.

For a moment, it seemed as if Potter were going to scream out a paranoid refusal. Then, glancing at the girl asleep on the cot, the boy visibly shook himself and forced an answer.

"Very well, sir, if you wish to know." The entire story was forthcoming then. The Boy-Who-Lived spoke for the first time about the lack of mail, forgotten birthday, frying pan aimed at his head, afternoon of enforced chores, pitiful excuse of a dinner, and banishment to his room. He told of finding Dobby, the house elf's warning, his own refusal to promise not to return to Hogwarts, the crash of the hovering pudding, and the warning owl from the Ministry of Magic. "That's when the Dursleys found out that I wasn't allowed to do magic outside of school. The bars and locks went up the next morning. The cat flap was installed so Aunt Petunia could shove food in to me and I could shove the dishes back out. Uncle Vernon had promised that I'd never be returning to school or seeing my 'freaky friends,' as he called them, again."

"You have been locked in your room more recently than that summer as well, am I right?" asked Snape. "The Order members who came for you last year said they'd found your door locked."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed.

Arising from his chair, Severus crossed the room to the door and aimed his wand at each lock in turn. When he returned to the seat, he was holding a gold key. "This will unlock all the locks but only from your side of the door. Be careful with it, Potter. Don't lose it, and don't let it be seen. You need a way to escape this room, should such become necessary. Now let's talk about your next most noticeable need, food."

After seeing the hiding place under the floorboards, Snape recast the freshening charm on the remaining food. With a wave of his wand, he conjured canned goods and an opener as well as silverware and bottles of water. "This will prevent you both from starving at any rate. Now for bedding."

After both beds had been made up with linens, fluffy pillows and comforters, with extra bedding stored under the head of Miranda's cot, Severus turned his attention to the furniture. Several 'reparo's later, the familiar furnishings no longer appeared about to collapse in a strong wind. Lastly, the Potions Master turned his attention on Hedwig's cage, whispering several charms over it. "She will now have adequate food and water, Potter, and be able to break any locks put on her cage should the need arise. Remember to write the Order every three days or we will send someone into the house to check on you. Expect Miranda's potions to be restocked the day after tomorrow. Goodbye." With that, he was out the door in a billow of black robes, leaving one stunned Gryffindor and one sleeping child Legilimens behind him.