Oh. We were in the Infirmary, safe and sound in Hogwarts. Oh bloody fucking hell, think fast you idiot! Why did you say Dumbledore?! "I had a dream, Daddy. That I met myself on King's Cross station." Just enough truth with the lie is the trick, unless Severus gets it into his head to do his 'look into my eyes' little spiel. "We were going to have cake but then I woke up." I held my arms out to him. "He said I can go home. Can we go home?"

The silence went on too long. I lowered my arms stupidly, my hand tightening painfully around my glasses. I didn't dare put it on, for best not to see his face, and my stomach cramped tightly in expectation. "Daddy?"

"We will go home after Poppy has seen to you," Snape said finally, in a long drawn out sigh. "Lie down."

I lay down dutifully. Crisis over. What does he mean Poppy should see me? "Again? But she just saw me this morning."

"You knocked yourself out on your bed frame, so Poppy will see you, yes, again."

Oh yes! I sat straight up like a Jack-in-the-Box, feeling vindicated, and pushed my glasses on needing to glare at him. "Because Chucky grabbed my foot!"

"Enough, Albus," the Bat said. "I don't want to hear about it again—I was the one who touched your foot, not the bloody doll. I was checking up on my son who was supposed to be asleep. What were you doing under your bed?"

Hiding from Chucky. "Nothing, just playing," I said and removed my glasses so that I didn't have to see him anymore. So why was he mad at me if it was his fault? That seemed very unfair.

We waited in deathly silence until the Mediwitch came. For some reason Snape felt the need to tell Poppy about my dream while she examined me. He sounded strange, as if he put more meaning to it, which made no sense, but I had no time to give him my full attention what with Poppy's ministrations.

"It's not surprising. After all, he nearly died today," she said, making no sense either, and shone a light into my eyes. "No more playing in the Floo, all right Albus? I bet older you told you the same."

"He had," I admitted, blinking bright spots away. I submitted to the rest of the examination with poor attitude even if I have to say so myself. They were hiding something from me, and I hated it when they talked over my head. When she was done I informed her of my headache and swallowed the nasty potion she gave me, gagging on the taste of musty socks. The headache disappeared directly though, so it was well worth it. Poppy gave me a mint to suck on and sent us on our way.

Severus carried me from her Floo through to ours and back into my bedroom. "This time you will go sleep, no more playing," he ordered, setting me gently on my bed. Oh come on! Was it still the same day?! "You are to stay in the room also, don't set a foot out of it without my permission."

"Until when?"

"Until the morning, Albus. Call me when you wake up."

Aargh! I flopped back onto the bed, accidentally giving him the opportunity to tuck me in.

"What if I get hungry?"

"You'll be sleeping. We don't get hungry while we sleep."

Yeah, right. It's as if he didn't know me at all. "What if there's a fire, do I still have to stay in my room?" I asked, just to be difficult. "Do you want me to call you while I burn or can I save myself?"

"I will want to know exactly how that fire started. Believe me, you will not be a happy little boy when I am done with you."

Oh please, I wasn't scared of him. "Who said I would make the fire? You can't blame me if it was Chucky that set it—when can I have my wand back? I can protect mys—"

"Albus. Sleep," he snapped, channeling Minerva's tone and it shut me up right quick.

Why didn't he listen to me! He was impossible. I turned my back on him. "I hate you."

"What was that?"

"Goodnight, Father."

With all his current irritation, the wizard was still too nice. He left me my nightlight and Gadding with Ghouls on the bedside table. If I was my kid I would have removed all temptation. I had five pages left, no way was I leaving that for the morning. The ending did not disappoint, in fact, it was so satisfying that I actually found myself feeling sorry for having defaced the book—I might have liked to have it autographed after all.

You might ask why I wasn't contemplating my future exposure with suitable doom and gloom, having nearly given myself away tonight. To that I would answer that it had happened so often in the past year that by now it was routine. It never went further than my initial scared rush to find an acceptable lie, which they might probe a little but ended up accepting at face value, rarely referring again to my slip-ups. In the early days Severus would try to get me to confess, but dissolving into floods of tears—not all fake—soon solved that. Were they gullible or trusting or was their Albus just so erratic? Who knew. I certainly wasn't going to poke it.

My night was restless. Every small noise that usually escaped my attention now woke me up to scrabble hurriedly for my glasses. Was that creak the closet door? Could I actually be hearing my own breathing? No, that's just my jumper that I had thrown over the chair last week… When I reached the point of 'Oh God, my foot wasn't under the cover!', I gave up trying to sleep and took up Holidays with Hags.

I am fairly sure I finally fell asleep on the book, drooling some pages shut, but by morning Holidays with Hags was set on my bedside, my glasses folded neatly on top. Chucky would not have been so obliging to tidy up after me, which gave me a moment of worry that Severus now had another thing to complain about.

He didn't. He took one look at my grumpy, tired face, and spent the morning digging into his reserves of patience. We might have Poppy's wise words to thank for that, but in all honesty he never harped on once he was done scolding. Which was actually a nice change from how I grew up. If ever my mother grounded me for a period of time she would spend that whole time being angry at me be it a week or a month, it was absolute torture and not something I missed.

"Oh, darling," Lockhart said at breakfast. Having entered the Great Hall at the same time as us, he stopped and cupped my face in his hands. "What happened to you, you look exhausted!" He moved to hold me an arms length away. "Oh, your clothes!"

What was wrong with my clothes? I looked down. I admit it was the first thing I grabbed from the closet, not wanting to open the door wide in case his evil gift attacked me, but there's nothing wrong with the robe.

"How special you make me feel!" Lockhart sang, quickly gathering attention from everyone in the Great Hall. Knives and forks were set down and silence fell. They had already learned that the man was a treat on his own, better than any soap opera. "You colour coded with me!" he trilled and brought forth his camera.

I had indeed. Between the blinding flashes of his camera I saw we were both dressed in identical deep-plum coloured robes, though his had ostentatious gold edging on the hems. Mine had been a gift from Severus's favourite aunt. Insisting that I needed to brighten up my summer selection she had taken me on a shopping spree through the fashionable part of France's magical area. She might have been French but she had taste, and the colour suited me well. It had been one of my favourites until now.

"Do not worry, dear heart, I will send the article to the papers, oh, you've made my day, darling!" Lockhart produced his quill and signed a photo for me, pressing it into my hands. "To think! I have little fans as young as six!" he crowed.

"Five," I corrected just to let him know he was wrong on something.

"Four," Severus said. "Five in two days, unhand my son, Lockhart, our breakfast will get cold."

"Two days?! Oh, but that's not nearly enough time to buy a gift!" he called in full dramatic fervour.

"No!" said Snape, Minerva, Poppy and myself in a loud chorus that left him flapping. Snape plucked me from his clutches and moved me to the teacher's table, now double in size and filled with a sea of new faces, but Lockhart followed short on our heels.

"Ah, of course. You're afraid my gift will overpower the magnificent one you had brought him, Severus. Do not worry, a father's gift will always be closest to his son's heart."

"I fear no such thing." He started adding scrambled egg to my plate.

"No?" Lockhart seated himself on my other side and not to be outdone, added toast to my plate and started to butter it. Oh God, the man was insufferable. "Mm. Well, aren't you lucky to have such a fearless daddy, Albus? Let me guess, you're looking like a wrinkled lettuce because you are excited for your party. You will have a party, yes? Oh it is going to be so much fun!" he exclaimed, dabbing jam on my toast and went off into an ecstatic rant on exactly how much fun it was going to be because he, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award will be there to see that it happened.

"It will be a children's party, Lockhart." Snape tried valiantly when I looked to him for help, unable to get a word in edgewise. "Adults are not invited."

That was true. The Weasley's were coming, some kids that I had made friends with in Slytherin will come—not Draco!—and my new cousins from across the pond, including the one bratty cousin that was a year older than me. I detested her, but Snape insisted I had to invite her or no party. Whatever Gilderoy Lockhart was he was not stupid. He quickly ascertained that Minerva and Poppy would be there and offered his services as the 'darling children's entertainer' while the adults relaxed aside. Why, he would come over to color coordinate our party outfits so that I could feel extra special on my great day, spending it by my Idol's side. Snape gave in like a spineless slug and I sat seething through the rest of the breakfast meal, trying to grow warts on his nose between bites of egg.

Back in our apartment I sequestered myself in my room, banging the door behind me, and the bane of my existence went off to play with his potions or toes. I had just settled myself for a nice read with a bag of Cockroach Clusters at my elbow, when Snape came knocking.

"Albus, have you touched my knives?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Why do you do anything these days?"

We glared at each other.

I gave in first, but not without a fight. "I haven't touched your stuff, Severus. When would I even have had time to do it?"

"If I find out you had anything to do with it you'll be—"

"In trouble, yes I know. One sorry little boy. I didn't touch your stuff and I wouldn't touch your stuff if you paid me."

I had zero interest in reading after he left, having stormed off in a huff of threats. What on earth was the matter with him these days? God only knew. I put Lockhart's stupid book aside and crunched away on handfuls of Cockroach Clusters to calm down. What the hell would I even want with a knife? On cue, something banged in my closet and the door swung open, toys spilling out every which way.

Percy Weasley didn't come on his own, he came with a set. His sporty roommate, Oliver Wood, hung about him more often than not, and Fred and George always popped up with Ron and Harry not far behind. All of them boys with low impulse control. Then there were the Slytherin lot who knew everything about playing hard and dirty and felt Snape's son needed to learn it early. So when Chucky's clone raised Severus's best chopping knife, I stormed him. He didn't have a chance to step out of the closet before I was on him, grabbing the knife away from his stupid doll fingers and hacking away at his horrible face.

So focused was I that I didn't hear my bedroom door open. "Albus, I brought Arthur to dispel your fears about the—Albus Snape!"

It took both of them, Severus and Arthur Weasley—where had he come from?—to drag me off the doll and divest me of the knife. I gave them a good struggle and showed off my new French.

By now I was way past done with the whole setup. I had been through a horrible week, hadn't been able to help Ginny, had been scolded up the wazoo, not believed when I was serious, had been forced to talk to the dead man I was impersonating, and couldn't see any way that Snape was going to believe me now. It was so bloody unfair! I shouted at Severus, probably making no sense, and flailed out at him to let me go.

I might have lost my mind there for a bit.

The only thing I remembered clearly was shouting at him not to bring Poppy again or I would move in with Lockhart. I know. That was the worst threat I could think of. It was also the best example of cutting off your nose to spite your face. I told you, I wasn't making sense.

I adored the Dungeon Bat, I didn't really want to live anywhere else and that was what I cried next after he had calmed me down. Up and down our little sitting room he walked with me in his arms, hushing me out of my hysterics while Arthur casted spells on the now thoroughly mangled doll in my bedroom.

"Don't send me away!" I wailed into Snape's neck, sobbing for Queen and country.

"No one is sending you anywhere. Hush now."

"The doll is not possessed," Arthur said behind us and I wailed anew. Snape patted my back and Arthur raised his voice to be heard above the noise I was making. "He isn't possessed now, Albus. But he was before. I found no traces of a soul but there's clear evidence that he broke himself out of his box from the inside. We need to call the Ghostbusters."

"..." I went, confused enough to stop crying.

"What?" Snape asked.

Arthur laughed, the sound a delighted wheeze that felt as strange in the room as his words. "It's a film we watched. We've recently been introduced to the magic of films and the children insisted we buy a VHS home entertainment system. We've been renting Muggle films this last week, catching up. Do you know, we are ninety percent sure half of the film industry must be Muggleborn? Take for instance Mary Poppins, her bag positively smacks of—"

"Arthur," Snape said.

"Sorry, it was a little joke. We need to call the Unspeakables, Severus, I don't think this will be the last of it."

"So it is not Albus's magic acting up?"

"Not that I…" he paused, considering me. I tried to melt into Snape's chest. Arthur shook his wand out into his hand. "Do you mind if I tried something, Albus?"

"Yes!"

"No, he doesn't mind," Severus spoke over me. "What is it?"

"Harry said something interesting, here, let me just see then I will be able to tell you more." He silently cast a spell at me, his magic vibrating up my spine, nearly similar to Poppy's usual examinations, but this one went further, I felt it go all the way up to my head in a deep, unsettling throb. For a second a bright green light enveloped me and then it was gone with a flash. "I'm sorry, Severus." Arthur said, putting his wand away. "Your son is a Horcrux."

The world went dark.