Severus dreaded Halloween. As a child, he had been allowed to go trick-or-treating with Lily once, and hid his pillowcase of candy under his bed afterwards, per his mother's instructions. She'd refused to eat more than a few pieces, for sweets were a rarity when three meals a day were hardly a given. Severus had made his stash last for months.

At Hogwarts, Halloween meant a feast. He'd initially been disappointed, even though he'd known better than to show it in front of his Slytherin roommates. Still, while far less enjoyable than trick-or-treating with Lily, it had been enjoyable. After his second year, outings to Hogsmeade often corresponded with the holiday, and Severus would spend some of the day with Lily. His mum would send Severus whatever money she could spare, which was nothing compared to some of his roommates, but he appreciated every Knut. Severus and Lily would purchase as many treats as their money could buy.

His enjoyment diminished considerably after his later years, even though Severus would have claimed that this was because he was growing up, and not because Lily was no longer speaking to him. Sweets and feasts had less appeal than the great cause of serving the Dark Lord. He would purify the wizarding world, after all, and officially outlaw marriage between magical folk and foul Muggles. How foolish, Severus soon realized.

Lily's death had been the nail in the coffin. Of course, the Dark Lord would have murdered her on that day. Moreover, as a head of house, Severus could hardly retreat into his quarters and drown his sorrows with scotch. At least, given his reputation as the dour Potions master, he wasn't expected to appear at the feast smiling.

Well, not until this year, he supposed. Since he was now Harry's guardian, he could only postpone sharing this information for so long. Like him, Harry valued honesty, and if he learned that his parents had been murdered on Halloween before Severus worked up the nerve to tell him, the child would likely feel a sense of betrayal. Especially if this occurred after he'd been blissfully unaware that he had been enjoying the Halloween feasts for years.

Severus did not plan to deprive Harry of this. He'd suffered enough, after all. No, he'd already worked out a way to establish the solemnity of the day, while also making it into a celebration that Harry HAD lived, that his mother and father's deaths had not been in vain, and that, as a child, he should be permitted and encouraged to enjoy all that life, and the holiday, provided.

First, they would visit the Potters' gravesite. Severus knew the precise location, having visited annually since their deaths. Here, in all likelihood, they would shed some tears, and Harry might speak to his parents. Not to them, of course, as they had moved on to the afterlife of eternal happiness, but just like muggles, it aided witches and wizards to have some sort of marker in which to speak to their loved ones.

Next, they would go to Honeydukes for sweets. Harry had been rationing his latest supply quite well, but it was running low. Besides, given that it was Halloween and he could not go trick-or-treating, this would be an appropriate substitute.

Finally, they would attend the feast. Harry had been enthralled with the feast for the start of term, and he would be pleased to attend the Halloween one. He would, of course, sit by Severus's side.

Now a week before Halloween, and a Saturday morning, it was clearly time. Severus rose from his bed, donned the invisibility cloak, and lightly tickled Harry until his giggling ward asked him to stop. He obliged, and wrapped his arms around the still sleepy child. Harry nestled against Severus, his eyes closing as he carded his hair with one hand, his breaths slowly.

"Are you falling asleep?" Severus murmured.

"No!" Harry protested, opening his eyes.

Severus chuckled as he continued carding his child's hair. "Not even a bit sleepy?"

A yawn escaped Harry's lips. "Maybe a little..."

Severus held his child a bit closer.

After the need for food and use the of the loo was greater than the desire to stay huddled together under the warm blankets, they rose, and Severus prepared breakfast.

It being an especially chilly day, Severus decided on porridge. He ate his own plain, but added a spoonful of raspberry jam to Harry's. Once they had begun to tuck into their food, he cleared his throat. Harry immediately looked up, expectantly, but not concerned. Not fearful.

"As you know, Halloween will be next Saturday," he began. After a pause, he added, "Have the students been discussing it?"

Harry nodded. "They say there's no trick-or-treating, but there's a great feast."

Severus nodded. "That's correct. Sometimes, there's an outing at Hogsmeade scheduled for the day, but this year, it was earlier in the month."

Harry nodded again, then took a bite of porridge. Severus was glad, for it gave him time to think. Or, rather, to deliberate even more about how to formulate his words.

There was no delicate way to put it.

"Your parents were killed-murdered-by the Dark Lord on Halloween," he began, gently, "which is a fact that the wizarding world is...rather less known than it ought to be."

"It's a sad day, then," Harry noted.

"A solemn day, only, rather more so for you and I, and perhaps those who were friends with your parents," Severus gently corrected.

Most of these friends were dead, of course. Peter Pettigrew, who flat out worshipped James Potter, was dead at the hands of Sirius Black. The best friend, the Secret Keeper, as good as performed the Killing Curse. What made the man betray them, Severus couldn't say. Mind, he had hated Severus enough to make Lupin kill him, and for all of James's flaws, at least he'd had enough soul not to wish Severus dead.

"Oh," Harry said, solemnly.

"That's not to say we should wear sackcloth and sprinkle ashes on ourselves," Severus went on. Upon seeing the bewildered look on his ward's face, he explained, "That is, I believe we should create a balance between acknowledging the day for what it is for us, and what it is for the rest of the wizarding world. We can celebrate the day, and the fact that you are alive and the Dark Lord is defeated, while recognizing your parents and their loss."

Harry took another bite of porridge. "How shall we do that?"

Severus outlined his plans, and Harry nodded.

"I expect I would like that. Especially seeing their graves. I never-well, Uncle Vernon's dad died when I was six, and they couldn't find a babysitter, so they took me to the funeral. We saw his body, and then it was buried. Dudley threatened to throw me in the grave." Harry made a face, and Severus was sure his own expression was one of anger. "He didn't. Er, will we see their bodies, Dad?"

"No, Harry. Their graves will be marked with their names, just as Muggle ones are," Severus explained, with difficulty, "but their bodies are buried. You can speak to them, if you like. Mind, you can do so whether you are in the graveyard or not. But many people do speak words to their loved ones while there."

"Can they hear me?" Harry asked, almost urgently.

Severus managed not to sigh. The mysteries of the afterlife was something studied in the most secret branches of the Ministry of Magic. Severus thought that ghosts were the closest to having any concrete answers. He had spoken to several after the death of his mother. They had all referred to "moving on," and Severus rather thought this meant an existence-at least for those worthy-in paradise. What happened to those less worthy was unclear. Certainly not reincarnation. Nor becoming a ghost-that was a choice each ghost made, and at the expense of moving on. Some state of eternal torment? Or, perhaps, oblivion? Severus supposed that, at one point, his soul had been headed in that direction. But while not as innocent as a child, Severus believed he had done much to redeem himself since then.

But could those who had passed be aware of the living? To be sure, they could not interact with them-save ghosts-but were they aware? Could they, as Muggle Catholics believed, even intervene to God on their behalf? Severus hoped so.

"There is much we do not know about what happens after we die," Severus said, softly, "but it's taken as fact by ghosts, and they ought to know, that our loved ones move on, likely to a place like the Muggle version of Heaven. I do believe that they can see us, and in any event, it does no harm to talk to them. As long as you don't expect an answer," he added. "I have visited your mother's grave each year, sometimes more, and speak to her, there."

Harry smiled. "I think I will, too."

Severus smiled, then, upon seeing the bowls were empty, moved them to the kitchen sink. The elves would collect them and clean them shortly. Harry rose, and moved towards Severus, who lifted him into his arms, and sat down on the couch.

"Are you in agreement with the events I planned for Halloween?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm glad we can do all of them. I want my mum and my father to know that I love them and I miss them. But I don't want the entire day to be..."

He faltered.

"Dreary?" Severus finished, running a hand through his hair.

Harry nodded, looking rather sheepish.

"Your entire life has been dreary since their death," he murmured. "Until recently, I should hope."

"Oh, it's much better!" Harry agreed, happily.

Severus chuckled, and hugged him. "Very well."

On Halloween, Severus roused Harry later than usual for a weekday, but earlier than their usual weekend. Still, the child did not protest. He did seem rather solemn as they ate breakfast, although this might have been his response to Severus's rather dark demeanor.

It being chilly, they donned cloaks, and it occurred to Severus that Harry could benefit from a second one for wintry months. The one he wore now was fine for the fall, but winter would arrive before long, and with that, snow. Severus would need to secure a catalog from the shop...

They strolled the grounds of the school, where the other students were in a festive mood, anticipating the feast later. The house elves were already hard at work, based on the delightful scents. Even the most mature Slytherin could not turn up his or her nose at such an event.

"We'll Apparate, now," Severus murmured, once they were just outside the grounds. "Close your eyes, if you wish."

While Harry was entirely accustomed to this mode of travel, Severus noticed that he preferred to keep his eyes firmly shut.

The child nodded, then shut his eyes. Severus squeezed his hand before focusing on the graveyard in Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore's sister was buried not far off. Whatever had happened to her was the cause for much speculation, but Severus had little interest in the rumors.

"We're here," Severus said. "Not at the graves, not yet, but at the cemetery."

"Oh." Harry squeezed his hands even tighter, as though fearful that a ghost would seize him.

A physical impossibility, but understandable in one so young.

The graves of the Potters were clearly marked. Severus, during his visits, had focused his attention on Lily's. Perhaps, he could have forgiven James had he not left behind a boy who looked almost exactly like him. Except, Harry was nothing like the eleven year old James who had interfered on the train, then became his archenemy. Had he and Lily chosen another train compartment, as likely as not, they would simply have seen each other as house rivals. Instead, Severus became Snivellus...not that he hadn't fashioned a number of unsavory nicknames for the Marauders...

Seeing their graves now, Severus felt a spark of triumph. He was alive, and James was dead. Severus was raising Harry, had earned the beloved name of "Dad," while James was relegated to the more distant title of "Father." If only Lily were still alive...

"Here they are, child," Severus said, speaking quietly, but not in a whisper.

Others were in the graveyard, but far off. Hopefully, they would be too absorbed in the memories of their own departed loved ones to see Harry Potter in their midst.

The site was a familiar one to Severus, but he still felt his stomach clench. There they lay, having sacrificed their lives for Harry. For, though they could hardly have known this at the time, the end of Voldemort's reign of terror. "The last enemy to be destroyed is death" read their tombstone. Upon further research, Severus had discovered it was a quote from the Bible, specifically from a letter Saint Paul had written to the Christians in Corinth. It referred to the end of times, after Jesus returned, and abolished earthy demise for those who believed.

Few witches and wizards found faith in Christianity, as witchcraft was explicitly condemned. Of course, summoning the dead was impossible, and the magic performed by Severus and others was hardly what the deity of the Bible condemned. All the same, it made sense to remain separate. Why that particular verse, then? Ariana Dumbledore's grave also contained a biblical verse, but she had likely died a squib.

It did not matter what the gravestone said. Tobias Snape's had read "beloved father and loyal husband," but he had been neither. Oh, perhaps he had refrained from adultery, but he had been a dreadful spouse and abysmal father.

Severus forced his attention towards Harry. The child was speaking quietly, his voice in a similar quiet manner as Severus's, and then began to tell them things that, if they could see him, already knew. But it did no harm, after all, and was likely therapeutic for his child. Severus kept an arm around Harry's shoulders, and even as he spoke, he leaned into Severus.

"I love you," Harry concluded. "And I'll be back next year."

Severus turned to see his child with tear stained eyes, and felt a bit guilty for his gloating. Harry's parents were dead, of course, and he had no memories of them. Besides, their deaths were due, at least in part, to Severus. Even if Harry forgave him.

He hugged Harry tightly, and Harry hugged him back just as fiercely. Once he let go, Severus gently wiped away the tears on his face.

"We can return again. Sooner than next Halloween, if you like. And you can speak to them whenever you like," Severus added. When Harry nodded, Severus squeezed his shoulders. "Honeydukes, then?"

The child smiled, and they were off.

Severus breathed an internal sigh of relief that both the difficult part of the day was over, and that the Saturday fall visit to Hogsmeade did not fall on Halloween this year. No doubt, at some point during Harry's time at school, it would. Hopefully, though, it would be after he became a student. Whether they would continue to visit the graves on the day of remained unknown, at least after Harry's second year. But they would take it one year at a time. For now, Honeydukes was hardly vacant, but it was far from crammed with students. Severus handed Harry his standard seven sickles, and collected two baskets.

He watched as Harry deliberated over his purchases, choosing larger amounts of his favorites with ease, and then slowing down as the remaining amount dwindled. For every sweet Harry chose, Severus chose two, sometimes three. Really, watching his child choose between two sweets was quite endearing. Children deprived of sweets tended towards two extremes-hoarding them, or gorging. Harry's tendency was closer to a middle ground, but that might be because he understood that they would be back before long.

They paid for their sweets, and Severus was about to suggest that they return to the castle, when Harry spoke up.

"Dad? Could we walk around, just for a bit? Please?" Harry asked, placing his bag of sweets in his pocket.

Severus smiled. "Very well. I must caution you that I know little about the joke shop, nor will I supply you with spending money there."

"Joke shop? Like the books that tell jokes?" Harry asked.

"No. Items of a prankster nature."

Harry made a face. "Those aren't very nice."

"Then you have no objection to not going in?"

"Definitely not!" Harry squeezed Severus's hand, warming his heart.

Another way his ward was unlike James...

When they returned to the castle, it was time for lunch, and the smells from the kitchens were stronger than ever. One of them, Severus knew, was treacle tart. Harry would be eating at the staff table, in between himself and Professor Mcgonagall. Unlike the start of term Feast, this one would be held during the usual dinner time. While some children tended to linger, the plates were usually cleared well before eight, and the children headed to bed earlier than usual. Unless there was an emergency, Severus's duties would end upon his and Harry's leaving the Feast. Perhaps, while Harry rested, he could leave to check in with the prefects and the head girl.

Harry usually showed signs of requiring a nap a couple of hours after eating. He asked if they could work on the puzzle after lunch, and Severus readily agreed. A quick charm revealed that four hundred and seventy pieces were assembled, meaning they were nearly at the halfway point.

They worked in silence for several moments. Harry took several breaths, as though to begin speaking, but appeared to change his mind. When the question did come, then, it took Severus by surprise.

"Dad, did my father love my mum?"

Severus blinked, taking a moment to consider his answer. "Of course. Why do you ask, Harry?"

Harry glanced down at his small pile of yellow puzzle pieces, then up at Severus.

"Because you said he was a bully."

Ah. Well, he'd need to tread carefully.

"As a boy and into his teenage years, your father was a very spoiled and brash young man," Severus allowed, "but while he was hardly a gentleman during those times, he didn't act as poorly towards young girls. Moreover, he had a rather obvious crush on your mother for nearly as long as I knew him. She did not return his feelings until their seventh year. At that point, James Potter's head was rather less swollen, and his responsibilities as Quidditch Captain and Head Boy left him with fewer...rather, he grew up," Severus allowed, memories passing through his mind. "He treated your mother very well, and as he died to protect her and you, I have no doubt that he-he loved her very deeply."

His rather convoluted answer seemed to satisfy Harry, because he gave a slight nod, and returned his attention to the puzzle.

Severus wondered if he ought to have told Harry the full story, a couple of months ago, regarding his father. The easier thing would have been to paint James Potter as a hero. But while he had fought and died heroically, Severus had his doubts. Yes, the man had fought on the right side, but he had been a brash bully during nearly all of his time at school. Severus had taken extra precautions to ensure that his humiliation after his DADA OWL did not occur, and missed no opportunity to hex Potter with nonverbal magic (to Potter's horror and Severus's great amusement-as he could only guess at who had caused his legs to spin out of control, or have HIS undergarments exposed, or the tongue stick to his mouth as soon as he tried to speak to Lily, among other such instances). But the damage regarding Lily remained unable to be repaired. For that, Severus would hate Potter for the rest of his life, even if he had come to love his son as his own.

Besides, if he had not revealed the truth (or some of it) to Harry, his own actions would not only be unforgivable, but unable to be understood.

They continued to work on the puzzle for another hour or so, during which point Harry began to yawn. Severus didn't bother to hide his chuckle. It had been a long morning for both of them.

"It's time for your nap, I see," he observed, placing his piece back on the table. "You should change into your night clothes. I will wake you when it's time for a bath and your dress robes."

Harry nodded. "Will you stay with me?"

"I will, after I check in with my prefects," Severus promised. "If you hurry with your night shirt, I can tuck you in."

Another nod, followed by the child nearly racing into his bedroom. Severus suppressed another chuckle.

The meetings, thank Merlin, were short ones. Severus's warnings about causing trouble clearly served their purpose, because while a few of his snakes had done enough to merit a handful of lost points and detention, it was no worse than the students from other houses. Well, perhaps Hufflepuff avoided trouble, but they also avoided any academic or heroic feats that ever made them a contender for the House Cup. Their performance in Quidditch was similarly lackluster.

Severus sorely hoped Harry would not be sorted there.

His child had already fallen asleep, so Severus lowered himself onto the bed, pulling the first blanket over his frame. Even in his slumber, the boy detected Severus's presence, and murmured something incoherent before curling into his guardian. The trust Harry felt warmed Severus's heart, and they both slept peacefully for a few hours.

The Great Hall was as crowded as it had been during the Sorting. Harry wore his dress robes, which still fit, but Severus suspected he'd need new ones before the New Year. Perhaps, new ordinary robes, too. This pleased him greatly. The boy had not been skeletal when he had first encountered him over the summer, but he had been much too short and too thin. While Severus suspected he still had a ways to go-but his next checkup would not be until the Easter holidays-he was making progress. Severus would not force foul-tasting nourishment potions on him, not merely for that reason, but because he and the Mind Healer (going by the expertise of other Healers) believed there was more potential for long-term harm than good. All potions held some risk of dependency when utilized regularly.

Minerva, of course, sat on the other side of Harry. This occasion being more festive than solemn to the student body, everyone was in good spirits. Nor did any teacher rebuke the excessive chatter-although there was an immediate silence when Albus stood, wished them well, and then the food immediately appeared. The talking returned at full force.

The food was delicious, even better than their usual fare. How the house elves managed to prepare ordinary foods so well that their flavor was enhanced for feasts must be a trade secret. Severus ate with relish, taking care to save room for dessert. Speaking of dessert, he hoped they would have some of Harry's favorite treacle tart. He'd brought a small container along to bring a slice or two back for the child to enjoy later.

Minerva's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Severus, is your team quite prepared for the first Quidditch match?" she queried, a small smile appearing on her face. "Next Saturday, it is."

"Of course," Severus returned, having watched the last two practices. "Why, do you expect to have your house's name on it this year?"

"I believe there's a good chance, Severus," she returned. "Charlie Weasley has been flying better than ever."

Severus withheld a snort-for Harry's sake. "One competent player hardly makes up for an exceptional team."

"Exceptionally violent, you mean," the Transfiguration teacher retorted. "Nearly sent Wood to the hospital wing three times, the way they played."

Severus might have argued that he hadn't prevented the goals, but was all too aware of Harry's eyes on him.

"Slytherin takes the game very seriously. Perhaps, if your house showed a bit more initiative..."

The banter went on for several minutes. By the end, Severus had come to the realization that, with Harry likely in the stands, he could not quite condone a "win at all costs" approach that he had previously.

If Harry ended up in his house, and on the team, Severus might end up making the boy worse than his father. If not, he could be seriously injured by his own players. Neither were acceptable outcomes. No, he would have a firm talk with the Slytherin team. They were to play well, but within the confines of the rules.

Besides, he thought with a mental smirk, they would likely still trounce Gryffindor.

Severus cast a glance at his ward, whose attention was on his baked potato. He'd taken a reasonable portion of vegetables as well, which he'd eaten. The presence of corn at the fest now made him think of popcorn-a favorite treat regardless of the house, even if the higher brow Slytherins considered it to be a "common treat." To his knowledge, he hadn't provided Harry the option of this snack. Well, he'd soon remedy this...

When the desserts appeared, everyone received them with glee, taking ample portions. Severus vaguely wondered how the Divination teacher was faring. Had the elves sent a tray up to her quarters, or was she oblivious of the fact that the Hogwarts staff indulged during this day? Like Charity Burbage and himself, she had become a member of the Hogwarts staff during the same year. But no matter. She rarely appeared at the Great Hall, yet still managed to keep herself sustained.

Harry was enjoying a piece of treacle tart, as well as a portion of vanilla ice cream. Once the staff had helped themselves to the selections, Severus carefully selected a few larger pieces of the tart, then placed them with utmost care into his container. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

Once their stomachs were full-likely, in some cases, more than full-the staff and students vacated the Great Hall and returned to their common rooms. The night was still fairly early, even if Harry was beginning to look more tired than usual for a Saturday evening. Well, it had been a long day, and Severus had to admit that between their activities and the emotions surrounding Halloween, he was rather looking forward to an early bedtime. Tonight, he would not brew any potions for Madam Pomfrey.

"Can you stay with me?" Harry asked, after he'd changed into his nighttime attire, and brushed his teeth. "Please?"

"Yes, of course, child," Severus replied, oddly grateful for the request.

After another chapter of the second Narnia book, they curled up together. Harry's stuffed bear took the place by his other side, but his kitten snuggled next to it, purring loudly.

As Severus drifted off to sleep, he felt very grateful that Halloween came only once a year.

Author's note:

Next up--Harry's first Quidditch game should be exciting, but things soon turn sour afterwards. Also, the introduction of a character who, in canon, we don't see until the fifth book. Any guesses? (Not Umbridge!)