Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews and feedback, they are much appreciated.

Chapter Three

"Reconciliation is to understand both sides; to go to one side and describe the suffering being endured by the other side, and then go to the other side and describe the suffering being endured by the first side."

Thich Nhat Hanh

The outside of Spinners End wasn't much to look at, that was for sure. But to Harry, it seemed like the most wonderful place in the world. To him, it represented the culmination of years of childhood dreams and yearning: home. This was his home, where he would live with his father. They would be a family. Albeit a bizarre and dysfunctional one, no doubt.

Perhaps he was being foolish to allow this one thought to overwhelm him and thus override his previous feelings about Professor Snape and the terrible relationship they had had so far. But, in all honesty, at that moment, Harry couldn't bring himself to care.

When they reached the entrance, Snape brought out a rather normal looking set of keys and opened the front door, and hurriedly ushered him inside.

Harry spotted the difference between the outer shell this house showed to the world, and the truth of its inner core almost immediately. The two could not have been more different. Spinners End disguised itself superbly, and surely no one who walked past it had any idea that the inside could be this beautiful and welcoming. Much like the man himself. Perhaps Snape and his house weren't that much different. After all, wasn't it said that people's homes reflected the character of their owner's? He sure hoped so.

For his part, Severus was anxious to see what his son would think of his new abode. He had made haste to usher the child inside, hoping that the grimness of the town and indeed, the street he lived on would not make his son change his mind.

That thought brought up something which he was still finding it hard to believe. When he had asked Harry if he wanted to come home with him, he'd said yes. There was no raging, no decrying of the knowledge his mother had passed on to him, and no declaration that he would rather stay with those horrible muggles than live with his most-hated Potions Professor.

But, as he'd kept having to remind himself for the last hour or so, Harry hadn't said no. Instead he'd smiled, taken Severus' outstretched hand, and said, "Yes, father. Finally, it's time to go home."

He'd been puzzling over that response for some time, and had become noticeably distracted. Well, he was sure Harry would have noticed if he wasn't so far away himself. This would obviously be a time of adjustment and change for both of them, and these first steps were going to be immensely important. It didn't help that they only had August, just one month, before both of them were due to go back to Hogwarts.

Severus wasn't at all sure how he felt about subjecting the two of them to Dumbledore's presence and control. Bad enough that he had done what he did, but now they knew about it, could they even confront him? Dare they? Look what happened when Lily had tried to have it out with the old man – he'd taken over her entire life and destroyed what chances the three of them had to become a family. And the brothers and sisters they'd wanted for their little boy never came to be either.

It made him furious to think of, so many lives lost and ruined because one old goat thought he knew better than everyone else. Well, no more.

Severus swore to himself, then and there, no more!

"I guess things really are rarely what they seem, eh?" Harry said tentatively, trying to stir the Professor from whatever horrible thoughts he was contemplating.

When they'd first stepped into the house the man had looked anxious, probably because he as nervous about how Harry would view their home. But now, he looked plain angry, and Harry could only hope it wasn't directed at him.

Luckily, Severus shook himself and remembered where he was and who he was with. "Sorry, I was just thinking of Dumbledore..." He paused and then coughed. "Ah, leave your trunk by the stairs, it can be taken up later. Unless you would like to choose a room now? It is rather early in the morning and I would not begrudge you further sleep if you need it."

Harry thought about it.

There were a lot of questions which needed to be asked and answered, that was for sure. And he was feeling fairly overwhelmed right now. Did he want sleep? Would he even be able to sleep, with all the adrenaline in his system?

A rather large yawn which he couldn't get his hand up in time to cover seemed to solve the dilemma for him. A warm chuckle made him smile, and he met his father's eyes and shrugged sheepishly.

"Let me show you the bedrooms so you can pick one, and then we can talk after we've both rested. There are... things to say. But we do not need to rush anything."

When he woke later that same day, Harry felt more rested than he had done for a long time. His regular nightmares had been absent, and luckily, he'd not had any visions. The grief he'd been feeling for Sirius was muted, probably because he'd been so distracted by his mother's letter, and the events it had triggered.

The room he was in was fairly bare at the present moment in time, but Snape had assured him they could fix that. It was his to keep forever more, this would always be his room, and this would always be his home. It was a comforting thought.

Stretching, he got up and went off in search of the bathroom.

When his morning's ablutions had been taken care of, he shuffled downstairs, looking for Snape. Breakfast seemed like the ideal time for them to begin the talk they needed to have. It took him a few moments to find the kitchen, and when he did, he saw that his father was already there. The smell of coffee and the food cooking on the hob permeated the room, making his tummy rumble.

Hearing this, Snape looked up from his paper with a warm, yet slightly tentative smile. Harry was not used to seeing uncertainty on the face of his Potions teacher, however the sight of it made him feel less anxious. From the signs, Snape was as nervous about this as he was. The man got up from his chair, putting his paper aside for a moment.

"Good morning. I hope you slept well. There's tea or coffee if you want it. Or some orange juice. Food should be ready soon, and..." Snape paused as he realised he was rambling. He was incredibly worried that things would go wrong between him and his son. He had no idea how to be a parent. Especially to a boy who was nearly a man himself.

There was so much he had missed out on, so much denied him and Lily. And their baby boy himself. But, he reminded himself, now was not the time to focus on the past, on what they'd lost. Such would only serve to make both of them bitter, and he'd wasted far too many years on that already.

"Forgive me, it is not my intention to ramble on like a buffoon. But I find myself strangely at a loss of what to say to you." He sat down and faced Harry, giving him as open a look as he dared. "I do not mean to imply that I in any way resent your being here, and similarly, neither do I regret retrieving you from those abysmal excuses for human beings." He paused.

Harry took that moment to get a word in. "I don't imagine this will be easy for either of us. So much has changed in the space of one night. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. And I hardly recognise you either. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it means that it's up to us how things go from now on, and who we want to be, as people, and to each other." He offered Snape what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and was himself reassured to see that same lopsided smile from the night before.

"We've both been forced into roles not of our choosing. And believe me, despite appearances, I knew some of what was going on with you and Dumbledore, and the things he asked you to do. Behind the Golden Boy image, I do have a brain." Harry said, but chuckled lightly to take the sting out of the comment.

"We've a chance now, if we want to take it, to start over. If we can agree that the past it the past..."

"It will not be so simple, I fear. We have some very bad history between us... just our Potions lessons, for instance, and then, Occlumency..." The guilt in Snape's tone was obvious to Harry and he hated the sound of it. Once upon a time, he would have been pleased. Felt, vindicated in a way, that the man realised the way he had treated him was wrong. Now though, it simply felt like a hindrance. 

An unacceptable obstacle in the way of something he wanted to achieve. Something he wanted to obtain. Namely, a family. A family with this man, the father he had never known.

"Yes, we've a history. What of it? I would love to sit here and play the victim, bring up things and have a go at you and all that, but what would be the point? It would only upset both of us, and though I could claim that you started it, it's not really true, is it? And don't forget, I'm not completely blameless either. Which reminds me, about your Pensieve..."

Snape cut him off before he could even begin his apology. "I – you do not need to apologise for that. We all kept you so in the dark, this last year, what would anyone have expected you to do, in such a situation? I may as well have left a flashing sign above saying, 'look in here'. If you had known that there were secrets of my school days in there, and nothing else, I am sure you would not have looked. I have learned at least that much about your sense of honour." He reached out hesitantly and then seeming to gather some courage from a hidden reserve, he patted Harry's hand in a conciliatory manner.

"Thanks." Harry said, pleased that the man had realised such about him, and had also acknowledged it. For Harry, his honour and sense of fair play was vitally important, and was not something he felt he could easily compromise.

"You were saying, about it not being true that I started it, as it were. Why do you think that? I remember your first Potions lesson, and how I behaved, I did not even give you a chance." It was clear that this fact was distressing the man, and Harry hastened to correct him.

"True, but who was I to you then? The son of your childhood tormentor. As you said before, what could anyone expect? And why was I such? Because Dumbledore arranged it that way. So really, I think it's fair to say that he started it. Not you, and not me. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm through letting him decide my life. What do you say?"

Severus thought for a second, and really he didn't even need a whole second to make his choice. No other choice in his life had ever felt so easy to make, and neither had he ever felt so sure that it was the right choice. Morally, as well as personally.

A choice between his little boy, who was not so little anymore, and the insufferable, conniving, manipulating old fart who had got them into this painful situation in the first place. Really, there was no competition, and for Severus, no hesitation.

"I say, let's drink to that. Though if you think I'm going to let you drink an alcoholic beverage at this hour, you've got another thing coming you man!"

At that moment, Severus felt like the sound of his son's laughter was enough to make him happy for the rest of his life.