For the first time in a long time, Severus Snape was beginning to doubt his adherence to the idea that he should, in fact, keep the antics of his governess secret from his guardian, or at least the woman who insisted on being called his grandmum. He sat in her kitchen, gingerly after the afternoon in the classroom, and watched her fuss about with the evening meal as he sipped on a cup of tea. He was supposed to be doing his homework, but in actuality he was watching her closely, trying to come up with any rational reasons on why his brain and his body was insisting on secrecy.

"Tomorrow they return," she chatted at him pleasantly. "I'll bet you can't wait to have everything settled and back to normal, can't you?"

"Daddy Harry back!" Teddy insisted happily. "Mummy Ginny!"

"That's right," Grandma Molly nodded approvingly. "They will both be back very soon."

"Is it right that he should call them that?" Severus asked. He tried to make his voice sound nonchalant, but it came off a bit strained.

"Andromeda won't mind," Molly winked at him, and then her smile stretched a bit sadly. "We're actually not sure when she's going to be able to resume her care for Teddy, poor dear. Ginny can be Mummy Ginny, at least for now. Who knows where it will go later."

"Does Ginny want to be a mummy to him?" he asked.

"Of course," Molly answered. "Ginny loves him. Loves you too, silly."

"Not like that," Severus told her. "I don't think she'd ever want me to call her Mum."

"I think you're wrong on that count," Molly told him gently. "And I know it's hard, because you have a lot of memories of your mum as well, and that's complicated. But you do know that mum isn't just an emotional name, it's a role in a household, right?"

"It is?" Severus asked.

"It is," she confirmed. "I remember when I went to stay with my best friend from Hogwarts for a month one summer I ended up calling her parents mum and dad - it was just easier. I could have called them Mr. and Mrs. for the whole visit - but that gets just so formal and dreary after a while. It just felt more friendly and family-like that way. And they were the mum and dad of the household - it felt normal to call them that."

"Maybe," Severus told her, realizing how much he wanted to. What was the feeling that was in his stomach, was it hope? Fear? Those feelings didn't feel very different. "It might be a good example for Teddy, it might make him feel safer here."

"It probably would," Molly nodded, laughing as Teddy was squashing the nanny doll again. They both knew the subterfuge for what it was - Teddy wasn't the child that needed to feel safe.

"Speaking of feeling safe," Molly continued. "Teddy seems to have been very frightened by that nanny of yours. Any idea why she scared him so much?"

Severus knew he should tell Molly. He knew deeply and truly that if he had told, he would be spared the torture that had befallen him, and that she would make sure that he wasn't shipped off to parts unknown. But knowing in your heart and soul and knowing in your head were two different things, and Severus just couldn't find the words to end the abuse that was happening to himself. His palms sweat with the knowing, his heart raced. Now was the time.

"Poopy-face nanny!" Teddy exclaimed, clearly pleased with himself.

"I agree," Severus answered, blowing out the tension. The moment was gone, he could keep the secret. The abuse was not such that he couldn't survive, and maybe even win the power struggle. And he would not risk even the slightest chance of being sent away.

"I think she just isn't good with little kids," Severus answered casually. "I don't know."

Molly sighed, feeling that something had been missed in that moment. "When you're finished with that homework, will you help me make the salad?" she asked him. "The others will be here soon for dinner."

"I'm done now," he sighed. "I don't want to do any more of this silly work she put me to."

"Come get this, then, and you can sit over there and chop."

Severus got the vegetables from her, and went over to the stool she indicated to chop. Molly's keen eyes were trained on him more closely than usual, however, because something about his demeanor just seemed so off. Was he missing Harry this much? Was there something else going on? Then, when he sat on the stool, she was horrified to see that he flinched, and then shifted his weight unconsciously.

"Severus, are you well?" she asked, her teeth clenching. "You seem pale tonight."

"I'm perfectly fine," he answered, looking away.

With that, Molly knew. She didn't need him to tell her any more of his covering lies, she knew everything. She may not know specifics, but that Governess was abusing him, and it was harsh enough to make sitting uncomfortable. No child answered like that without hiding anything.

The demands for truth, however, died on her lips when she looked at the strange, pale child again. What would her demands get her? He was lying for a reason - he didn't believe he was safe, and that Harry and Ginny would provide safety for him. This was like when he was hiding under the bed - he didn't need someone to drag him out, he needed a plate of cookies to entice him. He needed safety, not demands for the truth. And he needed that from Harry and Ginny.

"I need to go get something in my bedroom, can you finish that salad and watch Teddy for a tick?" she asked with a smile.

"Of course, grandmum," he answered with his strange, almost smile.

She excused herself to her bedroom, and immediately floo-called the person that could help the most. She knew enough to know who was in control of this fiasco.

. . .

"You wanted to talk to me, Mum?" George asked, coming through the floo. "I can't be away that long . . . oof!"

"Hello George," she greeted him, replacing her wand into her apron pocket.

"Why did you stick me down?" he asked, flummoxed. He experimentally tried to push himself off the faded sofa in the corner of his parent's bedroom, but realizing that his mum's spell was too strong to fight against.

"You are stuck to that sofa until you tell me exactly what is going on with that sorry excuse for a governess and what you have to do with it," she told him firmly. "And don't pretend that you have nothing to do with it, because I won't believe one jot of it. This has your fingerprints all over it, George Weasley."

"I don't know what you mean, mum," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence.

"You got her hired," she surmised. "Harry wouldn't have hired her otherwise. What is your game here?"

"What makes you so suspicious now?"

"She's abusing Severus," Molly told him. "And I intend to put a stop to it."

"But you realized that there's more to the story," George grinned. "And you didn't want to stuff it up if there was really a plan afoot, is that it?"

"Maybe," she agreed. "But that child is not going back into the classroom with that teacher, is that clear?"

"What if it's for the purpose of the greater good?" George asked.

"What good could possibly come of it?" Molly asked. "A young, vulnerable boy like that needs a loving person to care for him."

"And he needs a mother," George answered, meeting her eyes firmly.

"Merlin sakes," Molly breathed, suddenly grasping what her son was saying. "You've engineered it all, haven't you?"

"Me?" George laughed. "I'm just the screwball son. How could I engineer anything?"

"But the cost of it . . ." Molly gasped. "Did you think of the cost?"

"I am not the mastermind, mum," George admitted. "There are wiser minds than mine. I am merely the wrench that turns the cogs."

"Who could possibly be pulling these strings?" she asked incredulously. "Who else is there besides you, Harry and Ginny?"

"Can't tell," George smirked. "Honest."

"Then you're stuck to that chair," she leveled at him. "You've never been able to break that particular charm."

"Mum, there's an oath in place," George told her, putting up his hands in surrender. "Please, mum, I will have to use the loo at some point."

"My God," Molly said, sitting down herself on her bed. "It's the Professor, isn't it? That wasn't an accident at all, was it?"

"Now mum . . ."

"Don't 'now mum' me!" she snapped back at him. "What did you and that Professor of yours plan? It wasn't just about potions to sell in your store, was it? What a fool I was to believe that he would have an accident like this!"

"But mum, he'll kill me . . ."

"If the next thing out of your mouth is anything other than the unvarnished truth, so help me you will wish for the tender mercies of Professor Snape compared to me!" she threatened, her eyes snapping.

"You know that I can't speak what I've been sworn to not reveal," he told her plainly, realizing that he'd been beaten. She was going to get the information, it was now just a matter of not breaking his oath.

"But you can talk to me if I already know it," she finished for him. "Let me think a minute, then. Professor Snape decided to start over as a child, why would he do that? Ah, the trauma, the dreams. I remember during the second war before Dumbledore died, how haunted he was from the dreams. And I assume what happened after that made things even worse. His childhood was so tragic, and his school days so full of suffering. Yes, he wanted to give himself a second chance, without worrying about messing up the timeline with time travel. He trusted Harry to be his Dad, and he left you in place to make sure his machinations would happen. How right am I so far?"

"Scary right," he confirmed, a little frightened at how easily his mother deduced the plan.

"But Harry is onboard," she told him, her eyes glinting. "They are well on their way to father and son. So why is that harridan teaching that vulnerable child? Is that a part of the plan that the professor orchestrated as well? He knew her and hand selected her?"

George nodded mutely, knowing that saying too much would give away too much.

"Merlin's beard," she gasped, suddenly realizing. "That brilliant bastard, I can't believe he did this. That crazy, ruthless Slytherin. I only hope he was right and that he didn't overdo it."

"I've been watching!" George protested.

"But do you know what you've been watching for?" she demanded. "Professor Snape should have come to me from the start! And we are going to fix this muddle now with very little further cost to my grandson, is that clear?"

"Yes, mum," George agreed meekly.

"You will go down right now and finish cooking up dinner and get the table set. I have a bit of work to do," she told her son firmly.

AN: I have 2-3 chapters left, I am going to try to finish them in the next few weeks. I have just finished a big project for work I've been working on, so I should have a lot more time now to devote to fun writing. :) If you want a fun story about my personal life, I have just finished writing a book for publication (it's non-fiction and extremely unrelated), and I was talking to the publisher whom I am hoping will publish it earlier in the week. She remarked on my writing style, saying it was surprisingly good for someone who doesn't have a lot of published writing experience. She asked me if I had a lot of experience writing, and I was thinking in my head, "Um, Fanfiction?" Somehow it didn't sound professional, so I didn't 'fess up to the bulk of my recent writing experience. :) Wish me luck as I might become an actually published author!