A/N: Sorry the update took a while. I started several new stories for the Third Floor Corridor contests. I'm not in the habit of abandoning stories! And as I said, this one will probably be quite lengthy. I'll be working on it in between other fanfics. Promise.

Christmas was approaching fast. Severus was now nearly five months old. Dumbledore cuddled him close as he changed him into the green outfit that the child seemed to love, though he consistently pulled off the red socks.

"You're growing so fast," he told the baby, "Who's grandpa's big boy? You. Yes, you are. You're my very own darling boy, aren't you?"

The baby gurgled happily and reached for Dumbledore's half-moon glasses.

"It's a good thing you spelled them to stay on your nose," an amused voice said from the wall.

"Absolutely. And the self-cleaning charm came in handy too." Albus turned to the portrait and smiled.

It showed Severus behind his cauldron, an assortment of ingredients on the table next to it. For some rather odd reason, the portrait was having fun throwing in ingredients at random, making the cauldron explode, and smirk like mad when the explosion didn't do him any harm.

"But you have to agree with me that he is growing fast. Not to mention that he's cute!"

Severus smiled at the baby and waved.

"Yes, I suspect he will be crawling and trying to stand soon. He's doing so well. Not that it is surprising, with the way you spoil him!"

"I do not spoil him, Severus," Albus said softly, touching the painting with the tip of his fingers, "I'm treating him like an infant should be treated. Like he should have been treated the first time."

He sighed. A while ago he had requested to see Severus's medical files, and the contents shocked him to his core.

He had opened the file and started reading. The papers were in chronological order. He started reading the oldest ones first.

Severus had been a very neglected, perhaps even abused baby. He was first brought to the hospital at four months old. The reports indicated that he was malnourished, crying a lot, having unexplained bruises on his arms and legs, and generally, failed to thrive. He was given nutrient potions and the bruises were treated, and then he had been sent off.

At five years old, St. Mungo's had another record of Severus. They reported that the small, scrawny boy had come in with a broken nose. His mother explained that her Muggle husband had insisted that she'd go to a Muggle hospital first, where they had been unable to fix his nose completely. It was crooked, still swollen, and Severus couldn't breath through it.

She didn't say how the boy broke his nose, nor did the boy say anything at all during the treatment. The Healer managed to repair the function of the nose and reduce the swelling, but the damage was done. The child's nose was deformed. Several healing sessions could eventually have healed it completely, but the family never showed up for further treatment. The Healer also reported that this time, too, Severus was too small and thin for his age, was pale, had more bruises than one would expect from a child his age, and did not make a very cared-for impression.

Dumbledore sighed. There was nothing else before the age of eleven, so he assumed other injuries hadn't been severe enough to warrant a Healer's intervention.

The other reports were from Poppy. He had expected them to be from Severus's spy years mostly, but the number of reports from his school days were disturbing. He picked up the first one. It was dated September 4th, 1971. The first week of school.

Poppy reported that a fight between Severus and four first year Gryffindor boys had resulted in the Slytherin child being brought to the infirmary with wounds from cutting hexes. Sirius Black, one of the Gryffindors, had also been brought in. Poppy reported that the Sirius had started the hexing, and Severus had retaliated with the same curse, but Dumbledore could clearly remember that Severus was later punished for throwing the first hex.

The list was quite long. Severus had ended up in the hospital wing a number of times with injuries from hexing or sabotaging of potions. Sometimes one or more of the Gryffindor boys accompanied him. Usually not. Poppy also reported that in most cases, the boy had wounds all over – as if he had been surrounded and assaulted from all sides.

The headmaster had trembled when he had read the report on the Werewolf incident. After the talk in his office, he had sent the boy there. Poppy had cleaned up the scrapes he had gotten, but what worried her was that he did not speak or react to anything.

The next form, dated three days later, reported a suspected suicide attempt.

He hadn't been able to help himself. He had lifted the sleeping infant from his crib and held him close, crying as though he thought his heart would break.

"Albus? ALBUS!"

Harry's voice shook him from his memories. The young History teacher looked healthy. The end of term had been hard on him, but with the students gone, he had been able to rest up.

A pair of concerned green eyes studied his face. "Are you alright?"

Dumbledore smiled weakly as he pressed the baby so close to his chest that the infant started to protest.

"Bad memories," he admitted, "nothing anyone can change anymore."

"That's not entirely true," the portrait said, "you already have changed it. Look at him. Do you see bruises, failure to thrive?"

Harry had taken the squirming child from the Headmaster and snorted.

"Junior is a completely happy, healthy baby," he lifted the child over his head.

The baby squeeled in excitement and tried to push both his little fists into his mouth, drooling freely into Harry's hair.

"And you will not repeat your mistakes," Harry said, in between blowing on the child's tummy, causing happy giggles.

"True," Albus nodded.

"I had a question for you, actually," he changed the subject, "could you take Severus tonight? I have a formal banquet to attend. I could, of course, ask Dobby…"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, I'm going to the Weasleys for dinner," he said, "I'm sure Molly won't mind if I bring him. She has this thing for babies."

"First time seeing the Weasleys again?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Harry sighed, "They were supposed to come here, but something always came up. Arthur has been by for tea once. He invited me for tonight."

"So it's going to be intense."

Harry shrugged. "We'll probably beat around the bush endlessly. We'll see. Phoebe and I are going to spend Christmas here together. Are you and Severus going to be here too?"

"Yes, we are. Perhaps we can spend part of the holidays with you?"

Packing Severus's diaper bag, Harry nodded. "We'd like that, Albus. Now come along, little one. It'll be nice to have another raven head with me if we're going to be surrounded by red hair."

"It's not like he has THAT much hair," Albus kissed the silky black layer that covered Severus's head and curled just a bit in his neck and behind his ears.

"Be a good boy, sweetheart. Grandpa loves you. Yes I do. You're my precious little darling."

The baby gurgled happily, reaching for Dumbledore, but didn't cry when Harry took him on his arm and carried him to out the door, on their way to the Floo.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Molly Weasley had been anxiously preparing for dinner. All her family would be there, and Harry would come too. She checked the perfectly laid out table, tasted the soup one more time and opened the oven to check on the chicken.

One by one her family arrived. Soon the kitchen was full of noise and laughter, like it had been when all her children were still living at home. Looking over the sea of red she found her self subconsciously looking for the one raven head in the mass.

At that moment the floo opened and Harry stepped through, carrying a diaper bag and a baby.

"Good evening," he said a bit stiffly.

"Harry dear," Molly wiped away a tear discreetly, "we're so happy you came."

She hugged him carefully before cooing over the infant. "And who is this little fellow?"

Severus pouted, his lip quivering at all the unfamiliar faces. Harry lifted him to his shoulder and bounced him a little to shush him.

"Harry James Potter!" Molly said sternly, "Tell me this child isn't yours."

Harry snorted. "Molly, he is five months old. 14 months ago I was in hospital, paralysed from the waist down. I couldn't possibly have fathered any children back then."

Awkward silence filled the room. Molly blushed, and Arthur saved the situation by transfiguring a stool into a crib.

"Here you are, Harry, in case the little tyke gets sleepy." The Weasley Pater Familias had been briefed on Severus's situation.

He hesitated. "Can I hold him for a moment, Harry? If he doesn't mind?"

Harry shrugged. "You can try."

Arthur took Severus carefully and cuddled him in his arms. "Hello little one," he said softly, "coming for dinner as well? Welcome to the Burrow."

Severus, who had still been pouting, watched Arthur with large dark eyes and suddenly he smiled, waving his fists about, babbling. "Adadada…"

"What's his name, Harry?" Bill asked, holding his own daughter – a year older than Severus – on his lap.

"His name is Severus," Harry said, deliberately casual as he put down the diaper bag and took his place next to Arthur, "but I call him Junior mostly."

Except for Arthur and Severus, who were conversing in a babylanguage unintelligible to anyone alse, the whole room was completely shocked into silence.

"Severus…"

"Junior?" The twins finally managed.

Harry nodded. "Surely you heard Professor Snape passed away. His last request was for Albus to take care of this little one."

"Snape's DEAD?"

"This is Snape's kid?"

"Dumbledore's taking care of him?"

"Then what is he doing here?" Ron asked indignantly over the general noise.

Harry calmly took Severus on his lap, and with a quick spell a small amount of food was blended.

"He is here because Albus asked me to babysit tonight. I apologise, Molly, for not letting you know I would be taking him with me, but it was rather short notice."

"No problem, Harry," Molly smiled, tapping the soft babycheek with her finger, "we certainly have enough food to feed one more tiny stomach."

The dinner proceeded calmly. Harry listened to the others mostly, not talking much himself. When the table was cleared, he turned to Molly.

"I need to change his diaper," he said apologetically, "is there anywhere…"

"I always just cast a cushioning charm on the table," Bill offered, "and I use a containment charm to keep the smell from spreading."

Harry grinned, and started to follow Bill's advice.

"I still don't see why you would be taking care of Snape's kid," Ron sulked, "greasy git's finally gone and now we get stuck with his son."

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously, but Arthur beat him to any answer he may have made.

"RONALD! I will not tolerate such language in my house! If you can't manage not to speak ill of the dead, then don't speak at all!"

Ron shut up, and Harry busied himself with Severus. Having changed the baby, he fed him a little formula before tucking him in the crib.

"Sleep well, Junior," he affectionately kissed the dark hair. The baby yawned and settled to sleep.

A partial Silencing charm – they would hear the baby while the baby could not hear them – and Molly brought out dessert.

"Treacle tart!" Harry smiled, "thank you, Molly."

"You're welcome, dear," the witch replied, serving him an almost double portion, "now, tell us, how is your job? Do you enjoy teaching?"

"Very much so," Harry managed, swallowing, "it is fun trying to find new ways to teach them. And the students seem to appreciate it very much. We re-enact major battles regularly. Used to do it outside but now we use the Great Hall if the weather is bad."

"Sounds like an improvement from Binns," Charlie said appreciatively. The others nodded.

"Who is Head of Slytherin, now that Snape is gone?" George asked.

Harry took a sip of butterbeer and took a deep breath. "I am."

He closed his eyes and counted. "T-minus three…two…one…"

"ARE YOU INSANE?"

"Harry, are you sure, I mean…"

"You've gotta be kidding us, mate, Harry Potter Head of Slytherin?"

Right on cue.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told the Slytherins and Gryffindors," Harry said, "Slytherin alone did not cause this war. We are just as responsible for turning our back on that House. Remember Blaise? They aren't all evil. And certainly not the children that are in Slytherin right now. If we want to prevent a repeat of the past decades, we should start with treating all children equal."

Arthur, and to some extend his eldest two sons, nodded, smiling in understanding, but the other faces remained firmly set in scowl mode.

Molly bent over Severus's crib. "Sleeping soundly. How does Albus manage, running the school and raising a child?" she wondered.

"Dobby helps him," Harry said, ignoring the occasional glare from Ron, "Winky helps take care of me. And he hired Phoebe, of course."

Molly smiled softly, seeing how Harry's face lit up when he mentioned that name.

"Phoebe?" Ginny inquired icily.

"Hermione mentioned her," Ron muttered, "school secretary. Face deformed by a huge scar."

"In other words, butt ugly," Ginny giggled, relieved.

Harry's eyes blazed with fire.

"SHUT UP, RON!" he yelled, "You don't know what you are talking about. And you, Ginny! Laughing at her misfortune! If you want to know, she got that scar fighting off three Death Eaters singlehandedly when they tried to kill her grandparents. She's the one who kept me going those months in therapy, she's the one who sat by my bed those first weeks…not you. She's the most wonderful person in the world and I love her like crazy!"

He suddenly stopped, panting slightly. The whole table stared at him in shock. Quickly he gathered Severus's diaper bag and carefully lifted the sleeping infant in his arms before walking to the Floo.

"Thank you for dinner," he nodded to Molly, a bit confused, "I…I…bye."

Throwing in a handful of powder, he stepped into the flames and back into the castle, wondering what on earth had just happened.