Severus breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of his fresh-brewed coffee. Today was Sunday, which meant he got to escape his simple-minded students and spend all day relaxing. Perhaps he would peruse some potions journals or order more ingredients. Severus took a sip of his steaming mug and closed his eyes in bliss. Yes, he loved his days off.

Sniff.

A truly wretched sounding sneeze echoed through the kitchen, and Severus opened his eyes irritably to see one miserable looking Harry Potter standing before him, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his snitch pajamas.

"Honestly, Potter," he said in disgust. "Have you no manners? For Merlin's sake, use a tissue!"

Harry peered up at him pathetically. "I don't feels good."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't, you idiot boy. I told you yesterday that rolling around in the mud with the Weasley brats in the rain was going to make you ill."

Harry looked downcast. "We were just having fun."

"Well, now you're paying the price," Severus said ruthlessly. The child sneezed again. With a grimace, Severus handed him a handkerchief before he could apply his sleeve again.

"Return to bed immediately," the Potions Master ordered, distaste clouding his face. "I have no desire to fall ill with your germs."

Harry nodded miserably, shuffling off to his room. Severus shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee before opening his paper.

``````````````````````````````.```````````````````````````````````````````````````.````````````````````````````````````````

Severus closed his book with a snap, glancing at the ornate clock on his study mantle. Nearly supper time. He had spent a brilliantly quiet Sunday meandering about, catching up on reading and his post. Stretching, his returned the book to the shelf and made his way into the kitchen, where Kimmi was preparing dinner. He sat down at the table, his mood light. Kimmi placed a plate of prime rib in front of him and he took a bite, savoring the meat appreciatively. As he chewed, he noticed something amiss.

"Kimmi," he said, "where is the boy?"

Kimmi wrung her hands, looking distressed. "Young master be not feeling wells, sir."

Severus frowned. "He's still sick?"

"Oh yes," the house elf replied. "I offered to get Master Snape for him, but he said I's was not to bother you, sir."

Narrowing his eyes, Severus pushed back his chair and strode down the hall to Harry's room. He pushed open the door without knocking. The room was dark, and he could just make out a lump huddled under the covers on the bed. Impatiently, Severus flicked his wand, lighting a candle as he pulled back the blankets.

Harry was shivering, his cheeks rosy with fever and his hair soaked with sweat. Severus cursed.

"Potter," he said, shaking the child's damp shoulder. The boy mumbled incoherently, but did not awaken.

"Potter!" he said louder, firmly. "Wake up."

The boy didn't stir.

With an oath, Severus called for Kimmi. The elf popped into the room, looking at the sick child in dismay.

"Fetch me a vial of Pepper-Up potion from my stores," he ordered curtly. Kimmi bowed and disappeared, reappearing moments later with the requested vial as well as a basin of cool water and a soft washcloth. Severus accepted the potion, pouring it down Harry's throat. The little boy protested weakly, his eyes still clamped shut as steam began to drift out of his tiny ears.

Kimmi dabbed at his sweaty brow with the cool cloth, and Harry's face relaxed.

"Mummy," he whispered.

Severus reared back, staring down at the boy. His long, dark lashed rested against his flushed cheek.

"Mummy!" the child said again, tossing in his sleep.

Severus was shaken. Surely the lad was far too young to remember his mother? He stared at the little boy thoughtfully.

"Master Snape, sir, shalls I get Mistress Pomfrey?" Kimmi asked worriedly. Severus shook his head.

"No, Kimmi, that will be all. You make go," he said distractedly. The house elf curtsied, and with one last concerned look at the sleeping boy, she disappeared.

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````.```````````````````````````````````````````````.```````````````````````````````

Harry tossed and turned, his dreams strange and vivid. A red-eyed wisp of smoke drifted through the darkened trees of a far-away forest, malevolence spreading from it like a disease. Animals fled before the strange half-spirit, and plants withered. Harry gasped as it turned it's pupil-less red eyes toward him and a stabbing pain erupted in his forehead. He tried to run, but the forest was never-ending, the evil presence only a few feet behind him. He cried out, his little lungs burning. From behind him there drifted a high, cruel laugh.

`````````````````.``````````````````````````````.`````````````````````````````````````````````````````.```````````````````````````````````````````

"Damn you, Potter," Severus growled, conjuring up a chair and sitting next to the child's bed. "You're such a bloody inconvenience. I have to revolve my life around you, and I never wanted you. I still don't want you. I wish you were anywhere but here, with me1"

The child whimpered, sweat beading his furrowed brow.

Severus frowned, dabbing the cloth hesitantly on the boy's forehead. The damp hair was pushed to the side and the child's famous scar was revealed, an inflamed jagged bolt. Severus frowned, lightly reaching out and tracing the scar. He gasped as an intense pain shot down his left arm. He fell backwards, the chair falling with a clatter. Severus paid it no mind as he grasped his arm, his face pale. Slowly he pushed up the loose black sleeve of his robes to reveal the source of the throbbing pain.

His dark mark.

His pulse quickened and he tugged the sleeve down shakily, looking at the sleeping child with an indiscernible expression. His black eyes fell upon the scar marring the young boy's otherwise smooth brow, and he narrowed his eyes in thought. There was something amiss with Potter's curse scar, and he would bet his life Albus Dumbledore knew what.

He scowled, righting the chair and sitting back down. He absolutely hated being manipulated, no matter what the cause. He had known from the beginning there were things Dumbledore wasn't telling him about Potter. His insistence that Severus adopt the boy had seemed desperate, the old man resorting to emotional blackmail, which he hadn't done since the era of Voldemort. Severus nearly growled out loud. What use was it to escape one puppet master only to be ensnared by another? His eyes fell back on the fitfully dozing child.

"Mummy…" the little boy whimpered, his tormented dreams playing out behind his eyes. "I want my mummy."

"I want her too," Severus whispered, pulling the blanket up over the child. "I want her too."