Translator's note: Hi everyone. I would like to apologise for how much of a wait there was between chapters – this was entirely my fault. Basically, various things happening in real life meant that I no longer had time to work on this translation, and things have only just started to look up again. Fortunately, this means I had time to translate this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it! I'll try and make sure that this doesn't happen again.

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Author's note: Hello everyone, This is the chapter, I hope you will love it and that you will forgive us the delay.
Just a small reminder: people who leave reviews in "guest" mode: it's not that I do not want to answer you, it is that I can not (I would not answer on the following chapters and I would not open forum pages for that). If you want an answer, log in or leave me an email or join, I will try my best to answer you as soon as possible.
I would also like to point out that this fic has minor abuse. Obviously, I do not approve of these practices. But the story is so and reflects my image of the involvement of the wizarding world in the protection of minors through my reading (even if I go a little in the extreme). I would not discuss this narrative choice, but I do not see any drawbacks in talking about the points that led me to think that among wizards, it is better not to need the help of an adult! Those who do not like history can read others. For others (the most abundant): good reading!

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"Thanks Mrs Thomas," Harry said, taking a cookie.

"Ok," his classmate said once his mother had left the room. "I get why you ran away, but why did you come here?"

"I don't want them to find me straight away. If I'd gone to Ron or Hermione's they would have found me and if I'd gone to wizards…"

"They would have told Dumbledore, right. I can't believe it – Snape! You're really unlucky, mate!"

"Yeah, you said."

"Well, you can stay here as long as you like."

"Thanks Dean."

There was a knock at the door and Mrs Thomas walked in.

"Your food is on the table. Harry, are you sure your cousin is alright with you staying here?"

"Yes, Mrs Thomas," Harry replied. He felt a bit guilty for lying to Dean's mother – she was a really nice woman. "She was the one who suggested it when she found out one of my friends lives here. If it's ok with you, obviously," he added.

"Of course it is. Right, sit down!"

During the meal, the Thomas family chatted and laughed. Dean bickered with his sister and both of them tried to convince Harry to take their side. The difference between the atmospheres here and at Snape Manor were striking.

After the meal, the boys went to rent a film from Blockbuster and spent the evening in front of the TV, much to the annoyance of Cheryl, Dean's sister, who wanted to watch videos. At the end of the evening, when the boys were getting ready for bed, there was a knock at the front door. Mrs Thomas went to open it, and several minutes later she knocked on the bedroom door.

"Harry? Professor Dumbledore wants to see you."

Harry and Dean exchanged a look but didn't dare react in front of Mrs Thomas. They went into the living room. Dumbledore stood up as soon as he saw them.

"Ah, Mr Thomas, Harry! I am sorry to put an end to your evening, but Harry must come with me."

Resigned to his fate, Harry packed up his things, thanked Dean's parents and said goodbye to his classmate.

"I tried," he muttered.

"Write to me," Dean replied, smiling sympathetically.

Harry followed the professor outside.

"We will find a quiet spot so that we can disapparate."

"Are you taking me back there?"

Dumbledore didn't reply.

"What if I don't want to go?"

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Harry."

Harry didn't argue. What good would it do? He suspected that the headmaster didn't actually know the reason why he had fled and, if he was going to be taken back there against his will, he wouldn't humiliate himself further by begging.

Dumbledore reached out and took Harry's arm. A second later, they were standing in front of Snape Manor. Harry swallowed, a lump in his throat. Dumbledore led him into the manor and headed towards the living room without hesitating.

"My dear Severus, did you lose something?"

Snape stood quickly, almost knocking Dementia off the arm of the armchair. She threw herself at Harry and hugged him.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied, hugging his sister back but staring at Snape over her shoulder.

Snape, who was much too calm, watched Harry. Torn between relief and fury, he was trying to maintain control. When Harry saw the Potions Master take a step forwards, he stiffened in Démi's arms.

Démi stepped away from him and looked at Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, please stay for a cup of lemon tea."

Severus frowned. She had trapped him – if he were to be polite, he would have to stay too.

"Go to your room," he spat at Harry.

Dementia pushed Harry forwards, encouraging him to do as he was told, and called Kookie to ask for some tea. Once tea was served, she stood up.

"Please excuse me, I'm just going to quickly write to Sirius to let him know everything is ok. Don't leave, Albus!"

And before anyone could protest, she had disappeared into her father's study.

"Is Dementia afraid of you?"

Severus growled, "If she thinks she's avoiding a good-"

"Maybe a good discussion would be more beneficial than demonstrating your authority in such a way."

Snape shot his mentor a black look.

"But you know best, of course," the old man finished.

oOo

Dementia grabbed a piece of parchment and began writing Sirius a short note.

Sirius,

Just a quick letter to let you know everything is ok. Harry is back at the manor safe and sound. I'll let you know what happens next. Don't worry, I'll look after him.

Best wishes,

Dementia Snape

She walked out of the study and whistled sharply, making her father wince. A black owl arrived almost immediately. "Nexus, take this to Sirius Black, number 12 Grimmauld Place, London."

As soon as the owl had flown away, Démi perched back on the armrest. Dumbledore smiled and stood up.

"Oh," exclaimed Dementia, "are you leaving already?"

"Stop that right now," Snape scolded in a sharp tone.

For once she did not reply, but remained stubbornly silent. Once Dumbledore had left, Snape sat back down for a moment, his head in his hands. He breathed in and out deeply several times in a row before standing up and going into his study. He came back out moments later holding his cane.

Dementia hastily stood up to block his path.

"You have to calm down first."

"I'm perfectly calm, Dementia."

"Oh," she replied, sarcastically. "You're going to kill him calmly?"

"That's the idea…"

Dementia closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Oh please, Démi, I'm not going to kill him. You're acting like I'm a heartless monster."

Dementia frowned. "I didn't say anything like that. But your heart is buried so deep that it takes a lot of time and a bloody lot of effort to reach it."

Snape glared at her then looked at his cane. Dementia crossed her arms, a spark of defiance in her eyes daring him to "just try it and see what happens".

"Well tried," Snape murmured, turning on his heels and heading towards Harry's room.

Dementia flopped into Snape's armchair, disheartened. "Sorry Harry, I tried," she whispered.

An owl tapped on the living room window. Dementia opened the window and took the letter – it was very thick and addressed to Harry.

This will make him feel better, she thought.

Twenty minutes after he had gone upstairs, Snape reappeared and immediately disappeared into his laboratory, slamming the door.

Dementia hesitated only for a fraction of a second before grabbing the letter and going to Harry's room. She found him lying on his bed on his front, his head buried in the pillow. She sat down next to him.

"That wasn't very clever, you know."

He didn't reply. She put a hand on the back of his neck – his heart was racing.

"You should take a shower, it'll relax you."

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"I can't move," he muttered. "It hurts too much."

His voice was hoarse. Dementia knew it was either from crying or screaming… or perhaps both.

"Would you like me to take a look?"

He hesitated for a second and then agreed. Dementia took off his t-shirt and looked at his back; it was red, and some marks were turning blue. She couldn't see any cuts. Her father had been harsh but had obviously held back.

"It'll be ok," she said quietly. "But take a shower, I promise it'll relax you."

He sat up straight with difficulty, grimacing and biting his lip. Dementia helped him as much as she could and walked with him to the bathroom door. Ten minutes later, he came out and sat near her on the sofa.

"It did help," he said.

"Told you."

She noticed that his eyes were red, but didn't mention it.

"By the way," she said, grinning, "an owl brought you this."

She handed him the letter. He took it, smiling sadly, and opened it.

Hi mate,

Like you probably guessed, I'm in shock. Snape adopted you?! That bloody greasy, sadistic, crazy bastard! I understand why you cleared off! And don't worry, I understand why you didn't come to me. You should have seen Mum. She was livid when Snape told her you'd left! I don't know if they've found you yet but thought I'd write anyway. Mum's going to ask Snape if you can come and see us or if we can go and see you.

Hang in there mate!

Ron

Harry smiled. Ron had really made an effort – his letter was longer than normal. He changed position and his painful back made him wince. Dementia stroked his cheek comfortingly. On an impulse, he gave her Ron's letter and watched her while she read it. She definitely reminded him of someone. She had Snape's eyes and hair, but her skin was paler and less waxy. And there was something else… The shape of her eyes, her nose…

He shook his head. He didn't know what it was.

He unrolled the second piece of parchment that had come with the letter and smiled when he saw Hermione's neat handwriting.

Dear Harry,

I hope you're ok and that you got back safe and sound.

Harry, when Professor Snape came to see if you were here I thought I would have a heart attack. Knowing you were out in the open, somewhere, with Voldemort and his Death Eaters on the loose… That was very reckless.

I know that being adopted by Professor Snape can't be easy for you, but I'm sure you know that if Professor Dumbledore wanted this to happen, it was for your own good! I'm sure that if you make an effort everything will turn out alright; when he came to the Weasleys', he wasn't just angry, he was also really worried…

I hope he won't punish you too much and that he'll let us see you. Mrs Weasley said she would try to convince him, and I'm sure he'll agree.

Harry, please look after yourself and don't get yourself into any dangerous situations again.

See you soon,

Hermione

PS: Have you done your homework for the holiday? I've finished and Ginny started a while ago, but the boys still haven't done anything.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave Dementia the letter. She scanned it quickly and smiled. "That girl has a sensible head on her shoulders."

"Do you think he'll agree?" Harry asked.

"Straight away? Not a chance. But your birthday is in just over two weeks – I'm sure I can convince him to invite your friends to stay for a few days between then and now… If only so he doesn't have to listen to me begging anymore."

Harry nodded, smiling. A wave of tiredness washing over him, he let himself lean against Démi. The bedroom door slammed open, making them jump. Dementia sat up slowly, her expression dark.

"You know the rectangle made of wood? You're meant to knock on it."

"Outside!"

Dementia made an indignant noise as she stood. She kissed Harry's forehead and whispered, "Don't worry."

Easy for you to say, Harry thought, anxiously watching Démi close the door behind her. Snape watched Dementia leave and then turned his attention to Harry.

"I've calmed down," he announced, sitting in the armchair opposite the young man. "We can discuss things now."

Harry preferred to stay silent. Snape sighed.

"Listen, I didn't explain anything to you at the time. I was furious and I punished you by shouting and reigning myself in so that I wouldn't end up killing you for good. But it was very stupid to run away like that."

It took a supreme amount of self-control for Harry not to reply to that comment.

"You put yourself in danger. And even worse, you put your friend's family in danger. A muggle family would have been unable to defend themselves if they were attacked."

Harry's head snapped up. He hadn't wanted to put Dean in any danger. "I hadn't thought of that," he muttered.

"Obviously. But like I told you at Hogwarts, as far as I am concerned you have been punished and it is over. I know it's late but I'm not going to let you go to bed straight after punishment. You can stay and think in your room if you wish, but I would prefer it if you came downstairs to spend some time with us."

With that, Snape stood up and left the room. Harry thought it over for a moment. Any tiredness he had previously felt had gone, and he would never sleep while he was this tense. He wouldn't be able to live with a hostile relationship like this either - it wasn't the same as the Dursleys, because Snape was also at Hogwarts and Harry couldn't escape him there. He thought about Hermione's advice. Snape had made an effort, so maybe he should too.

Harry sighed. He picked up his Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions books as an excuse to go downstairs. He walked in front of Snape and Démi, who were playing chess in the living room, and shut himself in the library. He circled the room for a minute or two, looking for a good excuse and the right moment to approach Snape. He opened the door a crack and glanced into the living room.

"Checkmate!"

Dementia stood up, looking very dignified, and went to her room without a word.

"You're a bad loser!" Snape shouted after her.

Harry hesitated and then, reminding himself that he was a Gryffindor, said "Father?"

Snape turned towards him. "Yes?"

The lack of anger in Snape's voice and expression told him that the professor considered the matter from before closed; Harry felt encouraged to continue.

"Er… can you help me? With my homework. Can you just take a look at it?"

Snape agreed, not voicing his opinion that people didn't generally do their homework at 10:45 at night, but suspecting that Harry hadn't managed to find another pretext for speaking to him. He followed Harry into the library. The boy handed him the draft of his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework. Severus read it in silence and then sat down next to Harry at the table.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards a quill.

"Go ahead."

Snape made a few marks in the margin. "Not bad. If Lupin were your teacher you would get top marks."

"And with you?" Harry asked.

Snape thought for a moment. "Perhaps Exceeds Expectations – you haven't developed your answers enough."

Harry nodded and put the homework to one side - he would write it out again later. He handed Snape a second piece of parchment.

"Ah," Snape sighed. "Potions. Harry, why do you find Potions so difficult?"

"The professor," Harry said automatically, before biting his lip.

"I see. And apart from the professor?" Snape asked, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know," Harry muttered, lowering his gaze.

"I can't help you with the theory – learn it by heart and that will be enough. I can recommend you books for your homework. But if you want I can help you with the practical."

Snape couldn't help smiling at the fact that Harry didn't seem convinced at all.

"I promise not to shout, or to get angry-"

"Ok, fine," Harry muttered.

"Good. It's late, so not today. Go to bed."

"Yes Father."

Harry went to his room and flopped onto his bed face first. He didn't really know where he stood; he couldn't understand Snape at all. He had after all beaten him twice in less than 72 hours but was being nice to him at the moment.

He didn't understand why Snape was so strict with him when it was obvious that Dementia hadn't received the same upbringing at all. Perhaps it was in part because of the animosity between Snape, his father and Sirius.

Before he knew it, his previous exhaustion caused by the day's events caught up with him and he was asleep.

The next day he woke up to find a hand shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and found Dementia looking at him.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty! It's 10 o'clock!"

"What?! Has he said anything?"

"Don't panic, he just said you would have a better appetite at lunch. But if you want me to take you to see Sirius, we need to go now!"

Harry leapt out of bed, stifling a groan; the pain was worse than yesterday. Fifteen minutes later, he was ready and disapparated with Dementia.

He had barely got through the door of number 12, Grimmauld Place before he threw himself into Sirius' arms.

"Are you ok?" His godfather asked, hugging him back.

"I am now."

oOo

"Well what would you have done?"

"Not that," Sirius said dryly. He handed a phial to Harry. "Drink that, it'll take the pain away."

Sirius couldn't help but notice that Harry hesitated. He turned to Dementia, furious. "Do you think it's normal that he refuses treatment?"

"Don't take it out on me, Sirius," Dementia protested. Harry shot her a look. Dementia sighed. "Does it still hurt?"

"Of course it still hurts, you saw what Snivellus did to him!"

Dementia shot him a black look and focussed her attention on Harry, who nodded.

"Then drink the bloody potion."

"Yes but…"

"Did he specifically forbid you to?"

"No."

"Well there you go then!"

Sirius smiled in amusement. Harry shrugged and swallowed the potion.

"If he finds out you took it, I'll tell him we forced you to."

Harry grumbled and leaned against Sirius.

"Why didn't you come here?" Sirius asked.

"Isn't that obvious?" muttered Dementia.

"I didn't want him to find me."

"Do you honestly think I would have turned you in?"

"Hey!" Démi protested. "We're talking about my Father here, not You-Know-Who!"

"At least I can kill Voldemort without suffering the wrath of Dumbledore!"

Dementia jumped. "Don't say his name!"

Sirius rolled his eyes but didn't comment. "Ok," he said, turning towards Harry again, "apart from his despicable way of bringing up children, how is it going with Snivellus?"

"Severus!" Dementia reminded him through gritted teeth. "He cheats at chess."

Harry burst into uncontrollable laughter and Démi crossed her arms, annoyed. Sirius smiled, but clearly didn't understand why Harry was laughing. When it was explained to him, Sirius looked at the young woman in amusement.

"Ok fine," she groaned. "I have to go to the office. I'll come and find you when it's time for lunch. If we're late he might faint in horror."

Harry nodded, happy to spend some time alone with his godfather.

While the two men resumed their conversation, Dementia did in fact apparate into an office, but it wasn't her own. She sat down opposite a man who seemed to be about thirty.

"So you did come," he stated, crossing his hands over the forms on his desk.

"As if I had a choice… Why have you changed your mind?"

"I haven't. I'm still letting you have the divorce. But you didn't fill in some of the forms correctly and I felt like having a bit of fun."

"Stop it, I can't stop laughing," Dementia said sardonically. "What did I forget?"

"Your parents' names."

"And you couldn't fill that in for me?"

"Your father, yes, but I don't even know your mother's name."

Dementia snatched the forms from him and wrote the names into the correct boxes. She stood up. Marc picked up the forms and read what she had written. He looked up in shock.

"Are you joking?"

"Do I look like I am?" She replied seriously. "Is that it? Is everything else fine?"

Marc nodded slightly. Dementia left the office without another word. He didn't try to stop her.

oOo

While Dementia was putting the finishing touches to her divorce, Harry made the most of having Sirius for himself without his friends intruding or Snape antagonising them. Apparently suddenly worried that Harry being adopted would make him forget his real parents, Sirius was telling him all about James.

The hour that Dementia was gone passed alarmingly quickly. Although Harry hadn't dared to confide in Sirius just how scared he was of Snape (he was worried that his godfather would become violent towards the Potions Master), and despite the fact that he wished everyone would forget he existed and simply let him live happily in this house with his godfather, he felt relaxed after having been able to talk about everything and nothing with him.

When Dementia arrived, 10 minutes late, he stood up reluctantly. Dementia immediately noticed how dejected he looked.

"Don't make that face, we'll come back."

Sirius hugged him close before letting him go and giving him a soft push towards Dementia. They walked into the street and past the protective charms, then disapparated, reappearing in the garden of Snape Manor.

Harry rushed inside, very aware that they were 15 minutes late.

"Why are you running?" Dementia asked, following him into the hall.

"We're late!"

"No we're not."

Harry froze in the doorway of the dining room. Snape, looking more than annoyed, had already started his meal.

"Father," the young man stammered, "I'm really sorry… I…"

Snape silenced him by raising a single hand. "Sit down and eat, Harry. I know perfectly well that it's not your fault – even a watch would be late if it was with Dementia."

Dementia shrugged, sat down, and soon disappeared behind The Daily Prophet.

"Where were you?" Snape asked.

"With Sirius," Harry answered, praying to Merlin that his father wouldn't get angry.

But Snape didn't comment. He simply gave his daughter an inscrutable look, but she didn't look up from her newspaper.

"I received a letter today. A letter about you."

"From Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"No. From Mrs Weasley."

Harry looked up, suddenly interested.

"Starting from tomorrow, you will see Ron and Hermione regularly. You will meet here, not at the Burrow – the manor has more protection. Dementia will look after you all – I have a lot of work to do in my lab."

"Thanks very much, Father," Harry replied, very happy at the idea of spending time with his friends.

"Hmmm." Snape grumbled. "Mrs Weasley is very persuasive."

He immediately gave Dementia a dark look; her newspaper suddenly seemed to be shaking, despite the lack of draft in the manor.

"When will I see them?"

"Mr Weasley and Miss Granger will be coming tomorrow. Mrs Weasley has invited us for dinner the day after tomorrow, but I declined…"

Harry lowered his head, disappointed, but lifted it again when he heard the end of Snape's sentence.

"… so you will be going with Dementia."

"No problem," Dementia crowed, still hiding behind her newspaper.

Snape shot her a sharp look. Intrigued by the sudden silence, Dementia lowered her newspaper slightly so that she could look over the top of it. As soon as she met the gaze of her father, she immediately hid behind the newspaper again, which shook even more with her silent laughter.

Deciding not to protest in any way, Snape ignored her entirely and turned towards Harry. "I have a lot of work to do this afternoon, so I will be in my lab. I want you to do your Transfiguration homework and part of your Potions homework - let's say 5 questions. Then you will come and see me so that I can correct it. If you have worked hard – and I mean if – you can play Quidditch in the garden. I have a set of enchanted balls somewhere – it's not as good as playing in teams but it's quite fun."

Harry's face lit up and he ran to collect his books, shutting himself in the library.

Three hours later he knocked on the lab door.

"Have you finished?"

"Yes Father."

"Good. You can go and play in the grounds. Kookie will bring you the balls. By the way, from next week onwards Winky will be your personal elf. Need I tell you that she is delighted?"

"Thanks, Father."

Harry ran outside and stayed on his broom until Kookie called him in for dinner. Dementia didn't appear all evening.

oOo

At breakfast the next morning, Harry noticed that Snape was in a foul mood, and didn't dare say a word.

"Have you seen your sister?"

"No Father. Isn't she up yet?"

"She didn't come back," Snape replied curtly.

Harry noticed that his father was concerned by Dementia's mysterious absence; even though she was chronically late, she still spent every night in the manor, and this combined with the troubled times that they were living in meant that they soon began to worry.