AN: Thank you everyone for the comments and suggestions. I have been busy plotting out exactly how the last part of the story will finish, and I'm excited about where it's going to go.

Snape calmly loaded his cloak with potions. He had already had his moment of fury – the blast marks on the wall of the lab showed that the magic-proof sheeting had taken the brunt of his rage. He had let off the quick bursts, and now he was focusing his fury on something more practical. Poison, explosives, a few weapons – he wanted to be prepared.

"You've had news," he heard Lupin's voice quietly ascertain. The man's eyes shifted from the black marks on the wall to the Potion's master's considered stocking up, and he knew that there was trouble brewing.

"I have," Snape snapped, impatient at being interrupted.

"Might I inquire what happened?" Lupin asked with some trepidation.

"Lucius Bloody Malfoy happened," Snape snarled. "The arrogance of that poncy prat . . ."

"What did he do?"

"It's Lucius Bloody Malfoy behind everything!" Snape snarled. "Everything! He took my son! And I also just found out that he has personally overseen Harry being tortured further this evening."

"Malfoy?" Lupin echoed, confused. "But . . . why?"

"The man needs no excuse."

"I mean, I know he's evil, but why now? And it seems so personal . . ."

"It could always be as simple as him trying to ursurp me and my supposed plan to present Harry on a silver platter to the Dark Lord when he returns, but I doubt it," Snape spat. "I believe this to be more personal. I believe this is revenge."

"But what could Harry have done to Malfoy?"

"He pit himself against the house of Malfoy early," Snape told him with a helpless sigh. "Despite my best training and preparation, almost the first thing he did at Hogwarts was insulting the heir, and set himself up as enemy. That is all par for the course, however, and did not attract more than the usual attention of him being, well, himself."

"So what changed, do you think?"

"I've been expecting some sort of fallout from the incident of Harry freeing the Malfoy's house elf," Snape admitted. "Harry did not understand the significance of what it means to take something as valuable as a house elf from an old blood family."

"To be honest I don't understand it either, really," Lupin admitted. "I mean, he wasn't their only elf, and he was desperately unhappy there."

"House elves are status to an old family; only the old families have them," Snape explained. "It is becoming increasingly difficult to procure new ones. Harry thought only to free a miserable slave, but he insulted the house of Malfoy by robbing them of a symbol of their very pureblood status."

"Insulted Malfoy enough for this?" Lupin asked skeptically.

"Of course enough for this!" Snape growled, resuming his rummaging. "The man is a narcissist and a sadist, it honestly would have taken less than this."

"But surely the risks of harming the Boy Who Lived . . ."

"He is a master at doing things behind the scenes so he isn't caught," Snape explained with a sigh. "And he has more than half of the Wizengamot in his pocket. That is why there cannot be any regular justice."

"You can't do it," Lupin told him quietly.

"You can't stop me," Snape answered sharply, neither of them pretending to not understand what Snape was going to do.

"Likely not," Lupin admitted. "I would not go wand to wand with you, especially with your sights set on the man who kidnapped and abused your son."

"Then get out of my way," he said pointedly.

"Think, man," Lupin told him appealingly. "Think a minute. What happens if you are successful?"

"Then an evil man has been held to account," he said darkly. "I doubt the world will mourn the passing of such a man."

"And what happens to you?" Lupin pressed.

"Do you think me so incompetent that I cannot cover my tracks?" Snape demanded, his voice growling. "To make it look like an accident, natural causes, or at the very least someone else? Do you think me a dullard?"

"I don't doubt your skills," Lupin assured him.

"I was a double agent and nobody suspected me!" Snape thundered. "I know my way around subterfuge."

"Undoubtedly," Lupin agreed. "And nine times out of ten you will be successful. You are far more competent than most, but even you know that is no guarantee. And even if you do succeed, what does that do? Where does that leave Harry?"

"Out of the hands of monsters," Snape growled.

"If you are successful," Lupin agreed. "Perhaps. Will you be able to get custody without Malfoy to help manipulate the system?"

"I will figure out a way!"

"And that's if you succeed," Lupin argued. "What if you fail to kill him?"

"Then I sure as hell won't fail!" Snape insisted.

"You can't know that," Lupin told him.

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Snape sneered. "If I were as incompetent as you seem to think I am I would have died a dozen times by now."

"Then how about you stop going off half-cocked and develop one of your decidedly nasty but far more failproof plans?"

"But you don't understand!" Snape protested.

"What don't I understand?"

"What if . . ." Snape couldn't finish his sentence.

"What if you are hurt or killed trying to kill Malfoy?" Lupin asked gently. "Where would Harry be then? He would have no other option but the Dursleys. Nobody else can fight like you can for him."

"Every moment I take to plan is another moment that he is there, in their clutches," Snape said, his voice sounding oddly defeated. "What if he takes another beating? What if it's something worse? Every moment I take to plan is potentially a moment that he suffers."

"Do you think, if Harry had to choose, he would want you to take an extra hour or two to make sure that he wouldn't lose his father?"

Snape's lips twitched slightly. "Perhaps."

"And aren't you continually railing to him about how he doesn't plan and is too rash?" Lupin smirked. "I seem to remember Harry doing lines at your command more than once for failing to plan ahead. Do you need some lines yourself?"

"Nobody has threatened me with lines since I was a student," Snape answered, his lips twitching again.

"It might do you some good," Lupin smirked back.

"All right," Snape confirmed. "You've done it wolf; I'm rational now. I'm not going to go off and kill Lucius Malfoy this minute, as much as he might deserve it."

"Good, now tell me everything that happened and maybe I can be of some help."

. . .

"It is not my fault that you failed to plan ahead," Snape told the small boy who was currently pouting on the other end of the table.

"Can't you just do it with magic?" Harry asked plaintively. "Or can't you let Botz? Please?"

"No," Snape told him firmly. "I told you that you needed to get those pages of sums done this weekend, and you are the one that waited until Sunday afternoon to do them."

"I didn't know that the Weasleys were going to invite us over!" Harry protested. "Ron said that we're going to play quidditch!"

"You never know the future, that is why it's best to plan ahead," Snape told him. "This will be a good lesson for you not to procrastinate."

"I could do them tomorrow?" Harry offered. "The tutor comes in the afternoon, I could do them before he comes."

"You will do them today before any play," Snape told him with some weight to his voice. "That is what we had agreed upon, and I will not hear any differently, am I clear about this?"

"But . . ." Harry protested.

"No, I am serious about this," Snape told him, his voice firm. "You will do your maths homework first."

Harry, a rebellious scowl on his face, took the papers away and sat down at the table. Snape watched him out of the corner of his eye, knowing that the numbers the boy wrote down were far too fast for him to be doing the math properly. How was he going to handle this one? He could be the severe and punishing father, but something told him that would not get him what he wanted in the end. He wanted Harry to understand, not just be frightened of crossing his father.

"I'm done!" Harry announced in far too little time. "We can go to the Weasleys now!"

"That was very fast," Snape told him. "You must have gotten much better at your sums. Show me."

"I don't want to be late . . ."

"Show me," Snape told him in a voice that brooked no opposition.

Harry reluctantly took out the papers and brought them to Snape, as if he were bringing them to his executioner. He waited, shrinking slightly in his clothes, for the wrath to descend.

Snape had had a few minutes to consider how to handle his son, as he realized what the boy had been doing before he looked at the sheet. And yes, sure enough, the boy had just randomly written down numbers and not done the sums at all. With a wave of his hand, Snape erased the numbers Harry had written down.

"I think we both know that you were not doing your work," Snape told him gravely.

"I wanted to go to the Weasleys," Harry told him, his voice small, realizing there was no point in argument. "You said I could go if I did the work."

"So I did," Snape told him. "It was inferred that I meant to do the work properly. That was dishonest of you to do that."

"I'm sorry," Harry told him, near tears. "I was just trying to . . . be Slytherin . . ."

"Be what?"

"Be sneaky and Slytherin," Harry answered, the tears starting to leak. "I was thinking of the stories you told about how you followed what you said and not what they meant . . ."

Snape put his head back and closed his eyes. Of course. Harry had been loving some of the stories he had told about some of his more tame adventures, and how he had made some of the cunning virtues seem as good as the courageous ones, and here was a seven-year-olds clumsy attempt at recreating a spy's cunning. He took a deep breath.

"Cunning is certainly to be encouraged," he told the boy seriously. "And I'm glad you had a chance to practice."

"Really?" Harry asked, perking up a little. "I'm not going to be punished?"

"Of course not," Snape told him. "I'm raising a Slytherin, not a Hufflepuff. I expect some schemes and subterfuge from you. If you are truly trying to learn some Slytherin cunning then I am the last one to discourage it."

"Then we can go to the Weasleys?" he asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Of course we can," Snape told him, placing the papers once again in front of the small boy. "Once you've completed these sums, correctly this time. I will be checking."

"But you said that it was good that I was all Slytherin and everything!" Harry protested.

"If you are going to be a true Slytherin then I expect you to be a Slytherin in all senses of the word," Snape told him seriously. "And one of the ways you do that is by learning all you can so you are always smart. So I know that you would want to know all the sums on this paper, and that that will be even more important to you than anything else."

"That doesn't seem like the stories you've told me," Harry said, looking at the sheets he'd been handed. "In all the stories you told me your plans work, and your being sneaky gets you what you want."

"If there's an expert on Slytherin it's me," Snape told the young boy gravely. "I am head of Slytherin house, after all. Now call me when you're ready for me to check these papers. I expect excellent work, a Slytherin doesn't shirk."

"Yes, sir," Harry told him, sighing and settling down to work.

. . .

Later that night, Snape sat sipping tea and watching the fire. Lupin had retired, trusting that Snape was no longer at risk of doing something rash now that they had developed a plan. Snape smirked a little bit at the Gryffindor's trust, knowing it would be all too easy to go to the Malfoy estate and enact his revenge. But he stayed his revenge – not because of his own desire, but because of what he knew was best for Harry. The plan they developed was a good one.

He had surprised himself at how much influence he had allowed the werewolf to have over his revenge plans – perhaps the man was becoming more of a friend than he had originally allowed possible. He knew that Lupin respected and cared about him – it could hardly be helped with how easily Gryffindors gave out their affections. But what surprised him was how he himself was affected by the man. Part of what kept him from going and eviscerating Malfoy – not figuratively, he wanted to do it literally – was that he didn't want to disappoint his friend. That pull towards Lupin was wholly unfamiliar. It wasn't a romantic worshipping as it had been with Lily, nor a calculated alliance as it had been with Dumbledore or others over the years. It was instead a desire for connection and friendship – and maybe even respect. Lupin had presented good arguments, good alternatives, and even Snape couldn't doubt his motivations and care for the boy. He was one person that Snape knew would put up his life to save Harry if it were asked of him.

And so Snape sipped his tea. Lupin had been in his and Harry's life for so many years now he seemed an almost ubiquitous part of life. The person had gone from a former enemy that Snape had barely tolerated for Harry and Dumbledore's sake at the beginning to someone that had become what, a friend? Part of the family? Snape didn't even know. But what Snape did know was that Lupin did possibly prevent something much worse from happening today. He had also been, to Snape's chagrin, thoroughly right – if he had gone off half-cocked, even with his abilities, Lucius could have outmatched him. Snape was highly skilled, but so was Malfoy. They had never gone head to head before, but Snape knew that even though the man dressed like a fop didn't mean that he didn't have some skill with a wand. The prat wasn't in a position of power and one of the favorites of the Dark Lord for nothing. And even if he had succeeded in killing the poncy pureblood, he still might not have gotten Harry back. No matter how righteous his cause, rage rarely carried the day. It is always better to plan. And the plan that Lupin and him had concocted was far more devious and satisfying than the quick death that Snape had originally envisioned. Cunning, daring, and hopefully brilliant. He just hoped that Harry wouldn't suffer in the time it took him to execute it.