Once the meal was finished and the dishes were cleared and put away, Severus and Harry returned to their respective rooms to dress (and, in Harry's case, brush his teeth-as he admitted he'd neglected to do so earlier). Several minutes later, Harry emerged, wearing a shirt that was intended to have short sleeves but was so large that this failed miserably on him, and trousers which, if only a few inches below the appropriate length, clearly intended for someone with a (to put it mildly) adult-sized waist. Severus stared openly. The fact that Harry was neglected was obvious, but couldn't the Dursleys have purchased secondhand clothes that fit?

Harry reddened, then set about the task of rolling up his sleeves and his trousers so that they didn't hinder his ability of movement.

Severus raised his hand. "Stop!" he commanded, rather more loudly than he'd intended.

Harry froze, now pale. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

Severus swallowed, hard. He'd need to work on not frightening the boy. "I apologize, Harry. I only-you know I am a wizard, and I can alter the clothes so that they fit you. Would you permit me to do so?"

Harry frowned, just a bit. He nodded, then, immediately, shook his head. "My aunt Petunia said it's better this way. That I'll outgrow them less quickly, and they won't need to give me Dudley's nice clothes."

"Dudley?" Severus asked, frowning. Did Harry's muggle relatives have another child? He hadn't seen any other body, but they hadn't exactly performed a thorough inspection after rescuing Harry. With the carbon monoxide levels still high, that had been far more imperative than a search of the house which would-in all likelihood-be performed by muggle police. "Who's he?"

"M-my cousin. Is he dead, too? I didn't see his body," Harry added, frowning. "Maybe he's still alive. I hope he is. He was a bully, but he'd just turned eight. That's almost as old as I am, sir."

Severus took a deep breath, gauging his answer carefully. He wouldn't lie to the child, of course, and besides, whatever had happened couldn't be remedied. Harry's magic had kept him alive, and assuming that this Dudley did not have magic, he was likely dead if he'd been in the house, and alive if he hadn't been. Had that been why the front door had been unlocked? He'd need to find out. In all likelihood, the deaths had made the muggle newspapers, and surely, a child's death would make the front page.

"I don't know anything about your cousin's livelihood, but the news of your relatives' death most likely made the muggle newspapers. We can certainly see what happened to your cousin. As far as your clothes," he added, "you need ones that fit. I can alter the charm so that the extra material reappears as you grow, but as you will be receiving a guardian or set of guardians who will not pinch knutts when it comes to the basic needs of a child in their care..."

But Harry was nodding, rather vigorously, at the suggestion. When Severus trailed off, he spoke up. "Please, sir, please do that spell. And...if we could find out what happened to Dudley, I'd like to know. Please?"

Severus nodded. "Certainly, Harry. We'll visit the library tomorrow, perhaps this afternoon, if there's time. As far as the issue regarding your clothes, I will use the spell I suggested. Now, Harry, hold out your arms, and stay still." When the boy shut his eyes, likely expecting pain, he added, far more gently, "Don't worry. It won't hurt. In fact, you will not feel anything, except less fabric swimming around you like seaweed."

Harry opened his eyes again, then smiled. He did, however, follow Severus's instructions, and remained perfectly still.

The charm would have been tricky for a young student, perhaps someone below their fourth year, but despite not performing it since his boyhood days, Severus experienced no difficulty. He muttered the charm under his breath, feeling that his skills in clothing modification were not high enough to risk nonverbal magic, and watched with satisfaction as the clothes shrank. He stopped when they fit the way clothes for a child should-providing enough loose fabric for ease of motion, but not so much that the boy would trip, or find himself constantly adjusting his sleeves.

When he was finished, the shirt and trousers still had a worn look to them, but they fit. Harry looked down at himself, and a grin positively filled his face.

"Thank you, sir!"

"You're welcome."

Once again, Severus felt a pang which he could only define as guilt. He berated himself-his working for the Dark Lord, his handing over what he'd heard of the Prophecy-in no small part attributed to the boy's neglected state. He ought to have demanded more information from the headmaster upon hearing of the Potters' deaths, at an absolute minimum.

He forced himself to school his features into a smile. "Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you how to write with a quill, so you can occupy yourself when I brew this morning's batch of potions. Come with me."

The Potions lab at Spinner's End was not nearly as large as the classroom at Hogwarts, but it was more than sufficient for his work during summer holidays. Moreover, the child would not necessarily be underfoot by his mere presence. With no children's books currently on hand, practicing penmanship would serve the dual purpose of developing skills Harry would need upon entering school, and keeping the boy from disturbing his work. He conjured a small desk and chair out of two spare cauldrons, then set an ink well, two quills, and a very long piece of parchment in front of Harry.

"This is how you hold a quill." He held up the first between his fingers, then placed it to the parchment. "Go ahead, try with the other one."

Harry obeyed, mimicking Severus's motions with ease.

"Quite well done." Severus rewarded him with a smile. "Mind, that was the easy part. Now, I'll show you how to write with it. I'll dip mine in the inkwell, like so"-he put the tip of the quill into the ink well. "You try. Not too much, now, don't soak it. Just the tip will do, Harry," he cautioned. Upon seeing the boy obey precisely, he nodded. "Good. Now, we'll begin to write. You must hold it like this-otherwise, you'll poke holes in the parchment. See?" He demonstrated, and Harry copied his movement. "Precisely, like that. Now, I'll write the letter A, and you'll write one below me after I finished."

This, he knew, would be the most difficult part. Pens and pencils were far more easy to use than quills and ink, but the wizarding world was painfully slow to adapt. In many ways, it was like living a few centuries ago-not, Severus realized, that he knew of anyone still alive who been alive then. Witches and wizards generally had longer lifespans than muggles, if they could avoid certain diseases that were but a week or so of bedrest for a child, but it was rare for someone to live past two hundred.

Severus wrote his A quickly, almost without thinking. He'd been instructed in penmanship by his mother at the age of five, and by the time he entered Hogwarts, his writing was nearly as good as it was at the moment. Some students received scathing remarks about illegible writing on their assignments, and Severus was not above doing so if a composition was particularly poorly done, but he'd never been one of them. It had made him proud, nearly as much as his knowledge of Potions and hexes.

Harry wrote slowly, but his A was still shaky. Legible, Severus allowed, but little else could be said about that. All the same, it was the child's first attempt, and practice made for, if not perfection, progress.

"Not a bad start," he encouraged. "Try again."

Harry pressed his lips together in concentration, then copied the letter. It was marginally better, but a drop of ink spilled just after.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to do that!" he apologized, glancing at Severus with fear.

Severus briefly placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's perfectly all right, Harry. This is your first morning using a quill, and I expect a few spilled ink droplets will be expected." He pointed his wand at the closet, and summoned an ink blotter. "I'll apply this to the blot-you see? It's all gone, now. The next time you spill, you can use it, and clean up the-the spill."

He was about to say "the mess," but stopped himself. Not only would that be inaccurate, it would place blame on something that Harry could hardly control.

The child's shoulders slumped forward in evident relief. "Yes, sir."

Severus gave him a friendly pat. "Go on, then. Try again. Oh," he added, "you'll need to dip your pen in the ink. See how it's nearly gone?" He pointed to the tip of the quill. "Carefully, remember. Not too much at once."

Harry obeyed, dipping the quill in slowly, then taking it out almost immediately. He set quill to parchment once more, and his "A" was even better than the second. Not good, not by a long shot, but all improvements, as Severus's mother used to tell him, were to be acknowledged.

Not overly celebrated, of course. He wouldn't give Harry the false impression that his writing was good. But it would be, with enough practice.

"Better than before. Keep going. I'll stay until you need to use the ink blotter, and then you can practice on your own. I want you to fill up the parchment with each letter from the alphabet before lunch," Severus instructed.

It was only a few letters later that Harry needed to utilize this tool, and he seemed almost happy to be able to have an excuse to practice. He managed with ease, then went back to work.

"You're doing reasonably well, given it's your first day," Severus told him, smiling. "Now, I'll be brewing over there. If you need the loo, it's to the first door on the left. Alert me when you've completed the page, and then, we can break for lunch. Mind," he added, "do not write in larger letters for the sake of ending sooner."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, looking up at him. "I mean, sir, I won't write larger letters than I am."

"Good."

Severus rose and began the process of assembling ingredients for a Fever Reducing potion. They had nearly run out before the last day of term last year, in spite of there being no shorter supply than the previous years. All the same, Severus and Poppy had agreed that he ought to brew at least ten more cauldrons of the potion, as it could be used for as long as five years after the initial brewing date, and in the event of rampant illnesses (a flu passed through the castle at least once every two years-and the last year, there had been none), you simply couldn't have too much.

It wasn't a very difficult potion to prepare. Often, it appeared on OWL examinations. But Severus never allowed students to brew anything that could be used on other students, no matter how well the student performed. It simply wasn't worth the risk of something going wrong. So, during much of his free time during the year, Severus restocked the matron's supplies, even if he did the lion's share of the brewing during the summer months.

He was midway through cutting up belladona roots when he heard Harry rise.

"I need to use the loo, sir," he said, almost tremulously.

"That's fine, Harry. Go outside, then make a left. It's the first door you'll see," he instructed, not looking up.

"Yes, sir."

Severus heard footsteps, then the opening and closing of the door. He got back to work.

Harry reappeared moments later, when Severus was about to put the first batch of roots into the cauldron. "Did you find it? And wash your hands afterwards?"

"Yes sir. And yes, I washed my hands. Do you want to see?"

"That's not necessary." Severus looked up at the child, whose damp shirt indicated that he was not fibbing. "Back to work, now."

"Yes, sir."

Severus expected to need to break earlier than usual, as he didn't really expect Harry to use the entire parchment. He'd grow bored, and then they'd take a short break, perhaps.

But between his immersion in his work, Severus was aware of the quill scratching the parchment, and it didn't stop even after he'd finished the potion. Deciding to thank his lucky stars and prepare a second batch, he poured the completed mixture into a glass jar. After charming it not to break, he carefully labeled it with the date and name of the potion. Then, he stretched his back, and began working again.

Harry was still working away at the assignment.

Severus had just finished labeling the second batch, his stomach rumbling loudly, when the noise of quill writing on parchment ceased. He looked down at Harry, who immediately began to write again.

"No need for that," Severus spoke up. "It's-" he glanced at his watch, and barely managed to refrain from swearing in surprise. "-Well past time for lunch." Frowning, he added, "Harry, your hand must need a rest!"

Harry let the quill fall done, rather than place it down properly, but he nodded. There was pain written on his face, as though he'd been forced to use a Blood Quill instead of a regular one.

"Thank you for letting me stop writing, sir."

Severus's eyebrows shot up. Carefully, he reached out to the child's hand, then began to inspect it. It was dreadfully stiff, not unlike his after he'd spent hours marking papers. When he tried to move Harry's fingers, they seemed to resist his touch, and the child made a sound of pain.

Severus let go immediately. "Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to write for the whole time."

"But you told me to."

"Yes, but you're seven years old. I thought you'd grow bored and we'd break after an hour or so. But..." he glanced at the parchment. "You did fill it up."

And, with the exception of the last few lines, his writing was improving.

"I liked writing," Harry answered, looking at him. "Except, maybe not as much at the end."

Severus had to chuckle at this. "No, I suppose not. Your hand certainly needs a rest. Come, we'll have lunch, and I promise, no more penmanship lessons for the rest of the day."

Harry rose, now smiling.

Author's note:

According to the word count, this is my longest chapter to date.

As a general rule, I don't write fics that are plot heavy. I would rather develop the relationships between characters that confine the story to an event or series of events that shape the story. In this case, the event that happened was the Dursleys' death, because we need to have something to make Severus meet Harry and take him in. (Temporarily, as he keeps reminding himself) But, aside from that? This fic is going to be a slow build, a budding father/son relationship between Harry and Severus, and yes, I plan to take it past Harry's start at Hogwarts.

I have written more chapters surrounding the first twenty-four hours of Harry and Severus's time together than I initially expected, but I don't consider this to be a mistake. It won't continue like this, or else the fic would be something like 10,000 chapters long before Harry's eleventh birthday. Not only do I doubt people want to read that, I don't want to WRITE that!

What I'm essentially saying is that things will speed up, but sometimes, it's nice to just relax and enjoy the view. So, if you're feeling frustrated with the pace, it could be that this fic isn't for you, or it could mean that you'll enjoy it more after I advance a bit. Either way, any comments asking/telling me to speed things up will be ignored.

What happened to Dudley (and yes, he's still alive) will be revealed in chapter 10.

I'm currently rather at a loss as to how quickly I should update. To date, I've written over 12 chapters in completion, although I'm a bit unsure as to how to connect the bridge between Severus Snape wanting Harry to have a good home and bearing no hard feelings to the child, and wanting to take on that role himself. In particular, in this story, Severus would find it imperative to tell Harry about his role in his parents' death before agreeing to take him on. "My" Snape would find it repugnant, at best, to hide this part of himself from Harry before offering himself as guardian. So, if you have any ideas as to how he can cross that bridge, I'd love to hear. As far as how this relates to updating, I'm at the part of a new work where I'm very inspired, the plot bunnies are running wild, and if I had no obligations, I could probably write most of the day for several days until completing at least a large chunk of this work. Alas, I have to work, and I have other obligations, so I'm trying to fit in writing when I can. I do know, from previous experience, that this inspiration will fade, and I won't write as quickly. I tend to like to have at least one chapter "in reserve" before updating, but I also don't want to "overstuff" my readers, and, I admit, give them a reason to keep commenting/reviewing. In short...I don't have a firm update schedule, I AM writing a lot now but I won't always, and I can definitely use suggestions from my readers.

Next up: an important talk about Harry's magic-and why the Dursleys were awful for punishing him for it. (But hey, most fans already knew this!)