Here we are! It's short, I know, but I still felt like I needed to end it there, since there'll be a bit of a jump in the next chapter. Waaaaah. You'll see (:

I should really say this "officially"; thank you so, so much for all your wonderfully kind reviews! I am overwhelmed by the positive feedback I've received for this fic. I never thought it would happen, to tell the truth. So thank you for keeping my spirits up!

Please review and share your thoughts! Lots of love, always,

Ivy

The following day brought the finest weather they had had so far. The sun was shining dazzlingly, and the light breeze felt refreshing to the skin.

Harry would, unfortunately, not experience this. As soon as he had finished his morning meal, he was whisked off to his History class, glad to have finished his homework the previous evening. He'd been surprised to wake up and find himself in bed, and realised that Snape must've carried him there. It was with some embarrassment that he left his room that morning, but Snape had said nothing of the affair, and so Harry chose not to mention it either.

After his first class, his head was swimming with dates and names, but he felt satisfied with his work, and looked forward to his Defence lesson, which would commence in 15 minutes. As he arrived outside the designated classroom, he found Draco leaving against the wall. Usually, he didn't arrive until right before the class started, and so it was with some surprise that Harry greeted his friend.

"There you are!" Draco exclaimed, pulling himself off the wall. "I've been waiting for ages!"

"I had a lesson," Harry replied with a frown, dropping his things onto the floor, so as to not have to hold everything until their lesson together started. "Why are you here so early anyway?"

"Well I didn't get the chance to tell you yesterday, so I got here a bit early," Draco explained.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, genuinely curious to hear what information Draco might have to share. Usually, when Draco told Harry things, it was all very interesting and had Harry asking for more, simply because it always had to do with the wizarding world. Draco was full to the brim with titbits of information, things Snape would never have thought to mention. Like the sweets in Honeydukes, the Quidditch World Cup, dragons, the old wizarding families. Draco had even said that his family, Harry's, was very old, and had been one of the biggest families previously.

"About Black," Draco said hurriedly, obviously just as eager to share the news as Harry was to hear it.

"What's black?"

"Not what, you broomhead, who," Draco said in exasperation.

"Black is a person?"

"Yes. Well, several people. It's a surname, one of the old families."

"Oh. And why is that interesting?"

"Ha! I knew you didn't know!"

"Know what?" Harry asked, getting annoyed with Draco long-winded way of getting to the point.

"Sirius Black. He's your godfather."

"My godfather? What does that mean?" Harry had heard Dudley talk about his "god mummy", but had never known quite what he meant by that. As far as he knew, the Dursleys weren't religious, and so he'd always been rather befuddled as to the meaning of Dudley's "god mummy".

"You don't know?" Draco frowned. "Well, it's… It's sort of like… Like an uncle. But not related," he decided finally, proud to have found a good way of explaining it.

"Oh. And I have one?"

"Yes. I heard my father talking about it the other day. Shouldn't have, of course, but there you are."

"But why have I never met him?" Harry asked.

"Oh he's been in prison."

"In prison?"

"Yes. For murdering a load of Muggles or something. When we were little."

"He's a murderer?" Harry was horrified by the fact that his non-related uncle was a killer. For a moment, he'd thought maybe he actually did have family, of sorts, still alive.

"Not sure," Draco said with a frown. "There's been some stuff in the papers about him recently. I think they're letting him out."

"But if he's murdered people…"

"Maybe he hasn't then, if they're letting him go."

"Maybe…"

"But yes. See, godparents are supposed to take care of their godchildren if their parents can't. So wouldn't that mean you should go and live with him?"

"I dunno. I'm going to live with Snape."

"But maybe now that they're letting him out, you'll live with him," Draco persisted, silently wishing Harry wouldn't be staying with Severus. As much as he enjoyed Harry's company, he didn't like that this new boy was intruding on his family and family friends. As far as Draco was concerned, Harry was a moderately nice boy, who had managed to creep his way into other people's business.

"Maybe, I suppose," Harry replied absently, nibbling at the corner of his lip as he considered the information Draco had just shared. As his lip became raw and he tasted blood, Professor Snape came walking briskly towards them

"Get inside, boys," he ordered curtly as he held the door open for them. Both children ducked under his arm and made their way inside, seating themselves beside one another, at a pair of desks at the very front of the classroom. Harry, having placed his bag by his feet and dropped his quill, parchment and ink on the desk, frowned in Snape's direction. Of course, the Potions Master, having been teaching "insolent children" for years, did not miss the look he was being given by his charge.

"I would advise you to wipe that look off your face right now," he said in a low voice, his dark eyes boring into the green in front of him. Harry's forehead relaxed, but he still looked rather troubled. "Well then. I assume you have both read the designated chapter?" Harry nodded; Draco fidgeted. "Draco?"

"I might've accidentally forgotten," he mumbled into the desk.

"I see. I'll have a word with you afterwards. Now then, moving on to the theory we were discussing last week. As I hope you recall, defensive strategies vary from the –"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Snape whipped around and faced Harry, who was frowning again, and had obviously just blurted out something without thinking.

"I beg your pardon?" he forced through gritted teeth, clenching the chalk between his thumb and index finger.

"Why didn't you tell me about my godfather?" Harry elaborated, his young, naïve face pinched as only an eight-year-old can manage. The question obviously took Snape off guard, as his grip loosened and his face took on an almost blank expression. It only lasted a second though, before his eyes hardened again and he chucked the chalk onto his desk.

"Where did you hear about him?" he asked silkily. Harry didn't quite know what to answer, but his eyes, entirely without his permission, slid over to Draco and then quickly back to Snape. "I see." Draco looked unsure of himself as Snape glared at him. "I see," the professor repeated. "Draco, since you did not manage to read the pages I assigned you, I suggest you do that right now. I'll have a word with Mr Potter. Outside." He strode past the desks, not even glancing back to ensure Harry was following. In a heartbeat, Harry was out of his seat, trotting after the dour professor. The door closed with an ominous thud behind the two, and Snape rounded on Harry. "When did Draco tell you?" he demanded immediately, frowning pensively.

"Today," Harry admitted, on the one hand feeling guilty for knowing something he oughtn't, and on the other still annoyed that Snape had never told him. He was almost nine, after all. Why should he not know about something like this?

"And what, might I ask, compelled you to bring it up in that fashion?"

"Well you didn't tell me," Harry mumbled, still torn between apprehension and indignation.

"What I choose to tell you is my business, Harry, and –"

"But he's my godfather!"

"Do not interrupt me," Snape hissed through gritted teeth, starting to get fed up with having to reprimand the boy for the same things continuously. "The situation with Black is delicate at this point and there are several reasons behind my not telling you."

"But I should have known! Why can I not go live with him?" Harry demanded, his cheeks flushed.

"You are eight years old, Harry, so I –"

"Almost nine!" Severus snapped his mouth shut, and his eyes hardened. Placing a steady hand on Harry's shoulder, he turned him around, marched him into the classroom and placed him promptly in a corner.

"Not one word," Snape said in a low voice, right next to Harry's ear, before rising and walking over to Draco. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. What a rubbish day.

The man's formerly black and shiny hair was now shaggy and dirty, hanging like curtains across his sallow face. He stared blankly straight ahead as he was led through the dark, dank corridors of the wizard prison, hardly even noticing the dementors floating menacingly behind him. Vaguely he understood where they were going, and why. But after having spent almost eight years in Azkaban, he found it rather difficult to grasp the full meaning of what was happening, and so his brain kept up its monotonous buzzing, not allowing him to hope, despair or even think about what might or might not happen.

A heavy set of doors clanked open in front of him, and he realised he had to walk through on his own. The two guards at his sides, human fortunately, did not push him through, or even guide him. Taking a few uncertain steps, he arrived at the old, cracking fireplace.

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," one of the guards said gruffly, chucking a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. Understanding, somehow, that he was meant to step through, Sirius walked into the green flames and was whisked away from that place of terror for the first time in almost a decade.

"Inside," Snape ordered as he arrived with Harry at his quarters after Draco and had been fetched by an elf straight after their lesson had ended. Harry ducked his head and hurried through the door, flinching as it was banged shut behind him.

After having spent twenty minutes in the corner, he had been sent to sit at his desk, and he and Draco had been made to read intensely and quietly for the remainder of the Defence lesson. It was now lunchtime, and Harry was rather certain that his conversation with Professor Snape was far from over.

"Sit." Harry plopped down on the couch, sat on his hands, and let his eyes follow the man as he wandered around, flicking on light with his wand, shrugging off his robe and hanging it up. Tugging his cuffs into a more orderly fashion, he strode over to his chair, sat down and narrowed his eyes at the bespectacled boy in front of him. "Now then. Start from the beginning." He did not need to elaborate, even though Harry did hesitate a bit, before starting to talk after a particularly stern glance from his guardian.

"Well Draco arrived early for our lesson," he began quietly, shifting on the leather couch. "And he said he had something to tell me. And then… And then he said all of that about my godfather."

"All of what?"

"That he's in prison," Harry whispered, looking nervously through his fringe at Snape. "That he killed loads of people."

"And?"

"And… And that he's my godfather," Harry added with a small nod. "Kind of like an uncle," he added, perhaps more to himself than to Snape.

"I see. And where exactly did Mr Malfoy attain this information?" Harry had no desire whatsoever to tattle on Draco, but he realised he'd probably have to. Snape always seemed to know when he was lying. It was rather uncanny, actually.

"He… was told by his father." Snape's eyes narrowed, if possible, even further.

"Is the word told really the right word for this instance, young man?" he said silkily. Harry fidgeted.

"Well…"

"Hm?"

"Maybe not," he whispered in response, feeling unsure of himself, as he was not entirely certain what it was he'd done wrong. Draco was the one who had eavesdropped on his father. Harry hadn't even had a choice in the matter.

"No, maybe not. Would you care to rephrase?"

"He listened to his dad's conversation," Harry whispered.

"There we are," Snape said, his voice firm but slightly approving. "Harry, I need you to listen to me very carefully now," he continued sternly, making sure he had the boy's full and undivided attention. "You may think yourself hard done by, but I can assure you that there are reasons behind you not knowing of your godfather. You are eight years old, and certain things are best kept from you. With regards to Black, I will tell you when, or if, he is released from prison." Harry bobbed his head up and down, all his earlier annoyance having evaporated at some point during the short exchange. "Good boy." Severus proceeded to call one of the elves from the kitchens, and ordered their usual pot of tea. It arrived a mere few minutes later, and the Potions Master silently filled the two cups, adding cream and a bit of sugar to the cup he handed to Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said, speaking for the first time since he'd finished explaining what had happened during the day. Severus nodded curtly, sipping his steaming tea. As he regarded the boy, he realised something wasn't quite right. It wasn't like Harry to be this silent, even if he had just been scolded, however lightly. "Harry." The boy's head snapped up, and he almost upset his teacup. Snape stared at him silently, trying to make the boy understand he couldn't simply go and shut all his opinions, ideas and emotions up inside, however reluctant he, Snape, was to have to deal with tears and temper tantrums.

"It's just… Will I live with him?" Severus kept the boy's eyes, thinking.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Well… Draco said that's what it means, to have a godfather. That you live with him. If you don't have any parents I mean."

"Do you suppose Draco is the sort of person to believe?" Severus countered, raising an eyebrow at the boy. Harry shrugged. "Verbal answers always, young man," Severus snapped, back to his normal self after a painfully long time of being understanding.

"Maybe," Harry said, a hint of a whinge in his voice.

"Mm. You remember I told you you will never have to go back to your aunt and uncle?"

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"And you won't. You have been staying here for about six weeks now, and I do believe you have settled into a healthy rhythm. The plan is that you will stay."

"And will you adopt me?" The question took Severus by surprise. Haven't we been through this?

"Yes, Harry, I will adopt you," he said in a strained voice, clenching the handle of the china cup tightly.

"Good," Harry said, to his own, and the professor's, surprise. "I like it here."

"I'm glad," Severus answered sarcastically.