I woke with the flare of the Burrow's Floo and scrambled upright, feeling blindly for my glasses.

Ginny was sitting opposite me, relaxing curled on a chair with a book. A quick scan of the room showed it to be bat free, and my heart started beating again.

"Mum left to uh… do some shopping. Dad's here if you need anything. Do you want some water?"

Shopping. Yeah, right. "No thanks."

I pulled my knees up under my chin and wound my arms around them. There was nothing else to do but wait for Snape to come fetch me, raining fire and brimstone on my head.

The clock ticked.

Minutes passed slow like molasses. I would probably be grounded for a month.

"Do you want me to read you a story?" Ginny asked, and I nearly said yes just to get the time to pass. The idea of Snape finding us in a childish game was what stopped me.

Ginny curled up before the hearth with the offered book, letting me do as I pleased. Which was sit and bite the skin off my thumb. I swear their damned clock ticked the seconds backwards.

The sound of stomping feet from the kitchen briefly played havoc with my nerves, but it turned out to be Arthur. A lanky, bespectacled man with the requisite ginger hair and prominent adam's apple came to the sitting room.

"What have we here, Ginny love. Did we make another one while I was at work?" A hand fell on my hair and he turned my head playfully this way and that. "This one has brown hair, I thought we came in one colour only! Do you think your Mum's been holding out on me love?"

Ginny was doing something weird, trying to roll her eyes while simultaneously giggling at his silly joke. As for myself, I am sure I did not look impressed as he gave it up to do introductions and shake my hand. He proceeded to welcome me with an exaggerated formal speech to their humble abode—setting Ginny off again—and asked if I wanted a snack. Well… I could just as well eat while we waited for my demise.

Arthur's idea of a snack was a towering sandwich. Two slices of dark homemade bread stacked with nearly half of the fridge's contents in it, slathered in mustard and mayonnaise. He made three, raised the kitchen chair for me without a thought, and sat chatting while we ate. To avoid answering difficult questions, I made sure my mouth was full the whole time. None came.

When the final crumbs were scarfed down, he cleaned the kitchen spotless with a wave of his wand. Dishes rushed to wash themselves, and he sent us on our way, leaving to the shed.

Still no Snape.

Ginny offered to play a game of Exploding Snap with me, still pretending we were waiting for her mum only.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Thanks for the tea, Ginny, I will go now."

"Oh but you can't go, Al. Mum—Mum would want to say goodbye and pack you some dinner, I'm sure!"

Bless the child. Instead of simply calling Arthur, she did everything to try and dissuade me as I fetched my cloak, even tried to play on my heartstrings, saying her Mum would be mad at her for letting me go. That one did make me stop and hesitate.

"I really have to go, I have something important to do." Inspiration struck. "If you let me go, you will help me stop a bad man, Ginny. I will make sure they write your name in the papers… just like Harry Potter."

Her eyes turned glassy.

I felt like a heel. Not that it dissuaded me from trying harder. "Please, Ginny, I have to get away before my dad comes—"

"I knew it! Fred told us how horrid your dad was!"

What?

"Don't worry, I won't let him get you!"

Oh.

She thought the 'bad man' was Snape? Fred was definitely getting a kick at some point—Severus Snape was not horrid! I nearly ruined the whole thing then and there by saying exactly that. Instead I bit my tongue, stuck both feet in the water, praying he will never know, and played along.

"Please, Ginny! If he finds me, he'll kill me!"

Ginevra Molly Weasley had a plan. She took immediate action, and this four year old was dragged along in her wake, no hope of escape. Honestly, I was just happy to go along, letting someone else do the thinking for a change. And besides, any action was better than waiting for Severus. It had been nearly an hour!

She grabbed my hand, and we fled out the kitchen door, around their wonky home, through a vegetable patch, and straight towards a large barn.

"Dad's on the other side, he won't hear," she said, sliding the creaking barn doors open. The smell of hay and chickens met us, the barn a dimly lit cavern, thin rays of sunlight threading through the wooden slats. Ginny dragged me inside. "Wait until you see this!"

'This' was a Muggle car. To be more precise, a light blue Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe, and I stood in awe. The very one Ron and Harry drove to school, an honest to god flying car. And yes, I geeked a moment. Anyone would.

"It flies!" she told me unnecessarily, pushing me towards it. "Be quick!"

Ginny boosted me into the passenger side, slamming the door behind me, and rushed around to slide in behind the steering wheel. Face shining with excitement, she grabbed the wheel with both hands. "We're going to fly, Albus! Where do you want to go?"

I didn't have to answer, for she paid me no more mind, busy scrabbling for the keys. Pulling her seat closer to the steering wheel, she adjusted the mirror, and hopped a few times excited in her seat, all the while prattling on how her dad had shown them how to drive. 'It was easy!'

Was it? I could barely see above the dash and I doubt she fared much better. Rising up on my knees, I turned around to gawk at the roomy interior. A whole crowd could fit in the back, the perspective was so skewed that my eyes crossed.

"Let's see. I press this with my foot… " Ginny slid down as far as she could to reach and stepped on a pedal. "And turn the key…"

The starter whined, but nothing happened.

She twisted the key again. "Put on your seatbelt, Albus, Dad says all the Muggles wear them. Why is it not working, was it the other one?" This time, she ducked completely under the steering wheel, catching her ponytail in the turn indicator, still twisting the starter, and switched her foot to another pedal, pumping it energetically.

I was beginning to seriously doubt the wisdom of her plan. Yes, really. While she struggled with the car, I did my best to convince myself that it was going to be fine, that I was an adult. She was supervised. But that brought a whole slew of different problems. If I was the adult here, did that mean I had just abducted a child? Was I really going to let her fly?! I couldn't!

Severus was going to be livid.

Fucking hell. Severus was going to be livid, and I could only hope that he had not informed Minerva of my absence. I groaned.

"Please don't cry," Ginny said.

"What?"

"You look like you're going to cry. I won't let your dad get you, I promise."

Could she promise the same for Minerva? "I'm not going to cry!"

She twisted the starter again.

Oh God, I hated flying! My toes curled in fear—oh for fuck's sake, my boots were still next to the sofa! "Ginny…"

"Wait, I got it—" the engine roared to life, and she did something awful with the clutch, grinding the gear into place. Chickens scattered for safety in a tornado of feathers. The car shuddered, rattling our teeth.

A white faced Severus Snape appeared with a loud crack directly in front of the Ford. He looked like the Devil come calling. Oh God. Help! Severus mouthed something, pointing at us, but it was impossible to hear under the engine's noise.

"Ginny!" I shouted.

"I see him!" She yelled and, with a determined expression on her freckled face, pressed her foot on the gas!

"No!"

The car lurched forward.

The next moment Severus was gone—did we go over him?! Shouldn't we feel a bump? What was that crack?

Oh, holy fuck!

Twisting in my seat, I searched desperately for his body as the car sped towards the open barn doors, but the barn was empty.

"Ginny!" I turned around and smacked her arm. I'm sorry. I did it without thought—she just killed Snape! My heart was in my mouth, no, that wasn't it, I was going to barf. "Stop the car! You killed him!"

Grabbing for the door handle, I was prepared to jump out—even if the next moment we took flight—but there was no need to do a 'Mission Impossible' stunt. The little Ford never had a chance to lift off. Violet sparks surrounded us, and the car lurched once more, this time to a definite, grinding stop.

Severus! Please be okay! Please-please! I will never leave the castle again, I swear! With no warning, the car gave a last stutter, and my door swung open. Still gripping the handle, I tumbled with a shout towards the hay covered barn floor. In a blur of black robes, Snape caught me by the back of my pajama shirt, millimeters from a face plant.

"You're alive!" I cried in relief, starfished in his safe grip. I wiggled in an attempt to stand, wanting nothing more than to hug him to death and maybe sob my heart out. He ignored me, raising me up into an embarrassing dangle to get a good look at his face. His nostrils flared and his black eyes bore a hole through my skull, the man was livid.

"I have had enough practice in rapid Apparition, I would not die from a Muggle car. So it wasn't a murder attempt, I take it?" he questioned silky soft, not even sounding out of breath, and my stomach twisted.

"Of course, I—"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! What were you thinking, trying to take out the car!" Molly's shout interrupted me.

Still in Snape's grip, I twisted around to see her standing inches from the hood, wand out, red hair crackling in a halo above her head. Wow.

"Mum! I was saving Albus!"

"By trying to kill him!? Neither of you have enough magic to keep the car in the air, even if he did need saving!"

"I did not!" I protested.

"I know you didn't, dear. I've just had a lovely chat with your daddy." Molly told me kindly before turning her attention back to Ginny.

Well. I probably needed saving right about now. Snape had not put me down yet. He reached into the car and gathered my invisibility cloak, while Molly scolded her tearful daughter for her part in our little daring-do. She herded Ginny to the house, remonstrating all the while, Snape following close behind. I feared my turn would soon come and wisely did not protest being carried like a grocery sack. No need to aggravate Danger Bat further, right?

At the vegetable patch, I tried to tell Molly it was not all Ginny's fault.

"You're four years old, dear. You are not to blame for this little adventure. Would you like some tea?" she asked, and started section B of the scolding, berating Ginny for nearly killing Professor Snape, which would leave poor little Albus an orphan. That part I wholeheartedly agreed with. But…

"She wouldn't have done it if I didn't tell her S-my Dad was going to kill me! I made her think I was running away from him!"

Snape dropped me on my feet. Molly stopped, and Ginny turned to stare at me in shock, her freckles showing up stark in her pale face.

"I'm sorry!" I wailed at them all.

Inside, Ginny rushed for the stairs, a harried Molly made for the kettle, and Snape walked us through to the sitting room. Dejected, I prepared to be Floo'd out, but he plucked me up and dropped me on the sofa. I scrambled to sit.

"Sev—"

"Quiet," he ordered. His wand appeared, and I felt the tingle of magic run through my pajama bottoms. "Not a word, Albus." He flung my cloak on the chair opposite, and with that he returned back to the kitchen, not sparing me a further glance. What was that?

A sticking charm.

The damn Wizard had stuck me to the sofa.

Well, he had stuck my clothes. While he was doing God knows what in the kitchen, I tested the spell. I could move if I was willing to walk bent over with the large cushion on my butt or to slither out of my pajamas and run off starkers. I took the third option. Which was crossing my arms, sticking my bottom lip out, and glaring at the empty chair opposite.

I would love to know what went down in the kitchen, but the murmur of their voices too low to hear anything. It took forever before Snape came back with a plate of cookies and a steaming cup of tea. Setting them down next to the chair opposite me, he slipped his wand out of his sleeve and cast a charm around the room. Something for privacy, I figured, when my ears popped.

Done, he settled in the chair, stretched his legs out as if he had all the time in the world, and picked up his tea. While I sat, gnashing my baby teeth, he took up a cookie, dipped it ever so slowly into the milky drink, and bit into it, savouring the taste. It looked like a chocolate chip… He was on his second cookie before he even bothered to look at me.

I glared at him.

He wiped the crumbs off his fingers daintily over the plate.

"I've just spent an uncomfortable hour being grilled by Molly Weasley—"

"She's nice," I found myself saying inanely, my mind on the cookies.

"She is not nice. She is a harridan. I repeat, I've just spent an uncomfortable hour being grilled by Molly Weasley as to my suitability as a father," he said, his calm tone frightening. "Apparently, it distressed her to find a toddler unattended on the road in the middle of nowhere. Then I come here to fetch said unattended toddler, only to become a victim of attempted manslaughter by two idiotic children. I do not ever—ever want a repeat of today, are we clear?"

"I think a toddler is a two year old, I am probably a preschooler, Severus. It's not my fault she stepped on the—"

"Albus," he hissed, channeling Minerva, he really had been taking lessons. His face held nothing but disappointment.

I sagged. It was all my fault. And I had said some unforgivable things. Lied. "I'm sorry! And I'm sorry about what I told her, I—"

"I don't care about that, and I don't need you to be sorry. I need you to behave as if you had a working brain. Be a child if you want to be one so much, but stop running off and scaring the life out of me."

I sucked in my bottom lip lest the trembling gave me away. This readiness to cry at the least provocation was surely something to do with this size. All the emotions just under the surface, ready to bubble up with the smallest rebuke. "I'm sorry."

"Molly said you were off on an 'adventure'," he lowered his tone even more, sounding tired. I found myself wishing for one insane moment that he was Minerva, thinking I might prefer being shouted at. He set the tea aside with a long sigh. "What adventure, Albus."

"I can't tell you."

"You can and you will."

"No."

"Don't do this. You've always kept me involved in your plans, and I trusted you to take care of information you couldn't share. But that was when you were an adult, with the abilities of an adult. What. Adventure."

"I cannot tell you—everything I'm doing is to keep you safe!"

He lost it and leaned forward to snarl: "Everything is safer for me than it is for you, you are four years old! What on earth is so special that you believe you can do it better than an adult!"

"The Aurors will do it!" Shit. I clasped my hands in front of my idiotic mouth.

He sat back.

"The Aurors," he said in a flat voice.

"Maybe?"

Snape hissed and I tried to melt myself into the cushions.

"You were going to go all the way to London, in Arthur Weasley's damn flying car no less, to see the Aurors. All of today was just to keep me out of the loop and... what, safe?"

Fine! "Yes."

"This has something to do with Potter."

"No!"

He leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering. "Come here, let me see—"

I hid my face in my hands, and he tsked loudly while I thought to kick myself.

Silence.

I peeked through my fingers.

"You really are nothing but a child."

"Am not."

"So be it. Unstick yourself from that chair, and I will accept that you are an adult. I will let you continue unhindered on your little adventure, hell, I might even convince Molly to let you take Ginevra with you."

My wand was still in the pocket of my pajama shirt. As of yet I can do sparks, and if I concentrated very hard, I could probably turn their couch a muddy brown. I would look ridiculous to try. I tried for an adult tone instead. "Severus. It is imperative that I talk to the Aurors today. I am sorry if you don't like the way I went about it—"

He pinched his nose between forefinger and thumb and took a deep fortifying breath. "Be quiet."

My heart lurched. "What?"

"Admit that you are four years old, unable to release yourself from that damned sofa, and ask me to take you to the Aurors."

"You will take me?"

"You only ever had to ask."

We did not move until I admitted that I was stuck. He also waited for me to ask, insisting on a 'please' before he freed me from the chair.

"Going, dear?" Molly asked from the doorway when Snape tugged on my boots. "Everything sorted, then?"

"It seems so." Snape sighed where he was kneeling before me. "I don't know how you managed with ten."

"Seven, dear. Though some days Fred and George might feel like a crowd." She held out a maroon jumper with a golden 'R' on it.

He snorted, taking it from her, and I submitted to being manhandled into it. It was much too soon to protest anything, his face still sported a veritable storm, but even so he took care to be gentle. He picked me up against his chest, settling me on his arm and bent to scoop my cloak. Finally!

"I will let him write an apology to Ginevra first thing tomorrow," he told Molly before ordering me: "Be a good little boy and thank Mrs. Weasley for her help, Albus."

Gah! I hated him.

I expected Snape to take us to the telephone box, but he Floo'd us directly from the Burrow into the Ministry. The cavernous entrance was empty, the two long rows of gilded fireplaces dark. Severus's footsteps echoed off the gleaming wooden floor. He did not put me down, and I did not ask.

Where was everyone? This was something I should know, as the old Albus would have, so I bit my tongue against the myriad of questions that tumbled through my mind.

I tried not to stare at the fountain with its golden statues as if I had never seen it before, and we passed uncontested through a set of—surprise!—golden gates to a wall of lifts. If Percy was here, he would be telling me how wizardkind had introduced these to the Muggles. Surely some of the inventions went the other way round, would Wizards even admit they copied something from the Muggles?

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody met us on level two, in a corridor lined with doors.

Now without his hooded cloak, I could clearly see his scarred face, a chunk of his nose missing. His dark beady eye pinned me down, and the other—a startling, electric blue orb—rotated up to scan Severus. If 'scary' had a picture in the dictionary, this wizard would be it. Unable to help myself, I hugged Severus tight, shuddering.

"About time you got here, laddie," he growled. "I was about to put up a search."

"Voldemort is alive and on the back of Quirrell's head!"