Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59825 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its associated characters are property of J K Rowling, not me. This story is not being written for profit, just for the lols.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
5th June 1991: Morning

Harry gave a contented sigh as he hugged his pillow to him, snuggling down into the comfortable warmth of his bed. Once again, he was in the wonderful space between being awake and being asleep and it was lovely. Despite the warmth of the British summer, he was a comfortable temperature and would be quite happy to laze around in his semi-conscious state for several more hours to come.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!"

The loud greeting was accompanied by the banging of his bedroom door. All the noise woke Harry up fully but he refused to open his eyes. He simply pulled his sheets over his head, curling into a tighter ball so that more of his could be more easily covered. The sound of approaching footsteps did reach him underneath the covers but he stubbornly refused to acknowledge them in favour of trying his best to go back to sleep.

"C'mon!" The voice of the intruder insisted cheerfully, shaking Harry through the sheets. "Rise and shine and congratulate me face to face."

"Congratulate you for what?" Harry asked, finally giving up and poking his head over the top of his sheet and cracking an eye open to look at the fuzzy figure of Draco which hovered beside him.

"For my birthday and for the fact that today, I am officially a teenager." Draco announced proudly.

"Congratulations." Harry grunted, not sounding in the least like he meant it. "Does being thirteen mean that you can walk into other people's houses with no intent other than to wake them up rudely?"

"I'm not here just for that; that was just a delightful bonus. I'm here with Father to pick you and Sev up for our day out since neither of you will be attending my birthday party tonight." Draco revealed, his tone implying that the fact Harry was not going to his birthday party meant that it was his own fault for being woken up at that moment. He was obviously failing to recognise the fact that Harry was actually doing him a favour by staying clear since the blond's Slytherin friends were all going to be in attendance.

"But why are you here so early?"

"It's nine thirty; that's not that early."

"It is for a Saturday morning." Harry mumbled into his pillow as he rolled onto his stomach lazily and closed his eyes again.

"You're right, how very rude of me. You don't have to get up yet, I'll just join you." Draco smirked as he stood up and bent over to take off his shoes.

"You'll wrinkle your robes."

"I'm sure Father wouldn't mind helping me out with a quick smoothing charm if the situation calls for it." The blond answered easily as he toed off his last shoe and then lifted up the sides of the sheets which covered the other boy. He sat on the edge of the bed and then brought his legs up so he could snuggle down into a laying position. Once he was settled, he instantly threw an arm over Harry and pulled himself a little closer to him. "There; happy?"

"Ecstatic." Harry mumbled as he turned onto his side and shifted a little closer to Draco in order to be able to properly cuddle with him.

That seemed to solve all the problems and the two boys fell into a restful silence. It unfortunately only lasted a few moments though before Draco decided he did not want to let his friend sleep after all. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"To go to sleep."

Draco frowned and gave Harry's shoulder a light shove. "I'm being serious!"

"So am I." Harry replied though a small smile of amusement quirked his lips.

"C'mon Harry, I need to know what to get you."

"You've never bothered to ask before."

"Well I am this time."

"Why this time? And don't you dare start going on about how this one is special because I'll be an official teenager."

"I want this present to be special because...Well, just because." Draco murmured, not taking his gaze off of Harry's eyelids.

"That's not a proper reason." Harry yawned, turning his head into the pillow so he did not exhale into the blond's face.

"Do I really need a proper reason? I love you, I just want to get you something you want." The Slytherin admitted quietly, his eyes finally falling from the pale face opposite him.

"If you loved me you'd let me go to sleep."

"Harry! C'mon, I mean it, I do love you."

"I know you do and I love you too." Harry sighed, recognising the fact that Draco was being serious and was not going to accept a joke as a reply.

"Yeah, but not in the same way. Just you wait though, one day it will be in the same way, I'll make sure of it." The blond whispered before pecking a kiss on the other boy's cheek and rolling out of bed, intending to prepare an outfit for his best friend to wear for their outing.

If Harry had been a little more alert and awake, he may have actually reacted to that last statement from the Slytherin and recognised it for what it really meant.

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17th July 1991: Evening

It was one of those wonderful summer evenings that were relaxing and lazy. It was a lovely temperature and, for once, there were few insects, at least not so many as to cause a nuisance. Because of this, Harry and his father were quite happy to enjoy the night outside, sitting in the back garden of their cottage home. The faint glow of a single, large candle was all that aided Severus in his reading and Harry in doing some of his summer homework. Each sat in a separate wooden chair, both of which were heavily padded to prevent various body parts going numb or stiff. Yes, it was all very peaceful and Harry, despite the fact he was doing homework, was rather enjoying himself.

Much to Harry's surprise and never ending relief, Severus still had not discovered the missing blue flame from his personal stores. True, the man rarely used the rare fire but still, Harry had thought it would have been discovered by the end of that Year. Nothing had been said though and, as far as he knew, the missing flame had yet to be missed. Either that or he was not on the list of suspects for stealing it which made sense; he had built a good image for himself and would be the last person Severus would ever expect to take without asking.

After another several minutes of silent peace, the man reading and the boy writing, Harry reached the bottom of his piece of parchment. Not having any more with him but knowing there was still plenty of it in his room, he shifted the book he was resting his work on off of his lap and went to put it all on the ground beside his chair. However, as he leaned forward, he did not realise that he was sitting on the ends of his hair and the strands were yanked uncomfortably, sending sharp stabs of pain shooting through his scalp at each of the roots.

"Ah!" He yelped and immediately sat back up straight to alleviate the pressure, his hands flying up to cradle his head.

"Problem?" His father asked in a monotone, his eyes flickering up from his book for an instant.

"No, it's nothing. I just didn't realise I was sitting on my hair." Harry assured him, one hand falling back to his lap while the other one continued to soothe his abused follicles.

"I have said before that you should tie it back more often." Severus reminded him with a small smirk or amusement.

"Tying it back doesn't work anymore, I still sit on the ends more often than not."

"Maybe you should try braiding it then; Lucius has always been of the opinion that doing so shortens the length more than simply tying it back."

"Uncle Lucius braids his hair?" Harry grinned, imagining a rather amusing mental image of his godfather.

"He did, occasionally, when his hair was longer."

"He used to have it longer?"

"For a while just after he had married Narcissa he charmed it to roughly the same length as yours is now because she asked him to." Severus paused before giving a low chuckle. "He kept it for all of a month before his mother badgered him into getting rid of it again; said it made him and Narcissa look exactly the same." Harry laughed lightly at that and his father marked the page of the book he was reading before setting it down next to his chair. "Come here and I'll do it for you now."

Harry shuffled off of his chair and made the three steps over to where his father sat. Severus pulled out his wand and Accio'd a pillow from inside the house along with a hair brush. When the two objects reached him, he caught them both and then rested the hair brush on his thigh before leaning forward and setting the pillow on the ground between his feet. Harry took the initiative and knelt down on it, his back to the still-seated man. Severus shifted forward on his seat so he could more easily reach his son's hair and then, without further ado, he took hold of the brush and began to gently run it through the dark strands.

A few minutes of silence passed before Harry spoke: "Do you and Uncle Lucius still miss your mothers?"

"Well, I can't speak for your godfather but I certainly still miss your grandmother. It's tragic that she never got to meet you; she would've been so proud." Severus replied as he began to separate his son's hair into three strands.

"I would've been proud of her as well; all the pictures you've shown me of her, she looked like she was a beautiful person, inside and out."

"Yes, she was, as wonderful as Narcissa in many ways, even more wonderful in others. It's a shame I didn't get any more than my dark hair from her really."

"But you look so much like her! Especially when you were younger." Harry insisted, wanting to turn and look at his father but knowing if he did so he would disrupt the braiding process.

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment to me or an insult to her." His father joked lightly as he began to twist the hair in his pale hands together. In a matter of seconds, he had the entire length of Harry's hair braided. He then held it together with one hand as he reached out for the side of the house where he knew there were some climbing flowers making their way up the rough, brick wall.

"You put yourself down far too often." Harry told him in a slightly chiding tone as the man plucked a flower and a good chunk of stem from the wall. "You're just like Grandmother was; beautiful on the inside and the outside."

"I don't agree with you in the least but thank you anyway." Severus said lightly, transfiguring the flower and its thin stem into a piece of ribbon to tie off the thin end of his son's new braid. "There you are." He smiled, patting Harry's shoulder as a sign that he could move again. However, instead of moving away as Severus expected, the boy turned around and looped his arms around his neck loosely.

"Why do you hate yourself so much?" Harry whispered sadly, his green eyes glittering in the candle light as they stared straight into the black eyes in front of him. His father remained stubbornly silent and Harry could just visualise the protective walls being built up around the man. "You're such a wonderful person and just don't see it." He continued, bringing a hand up to cup the sallow cheek and play with the ends of a few strands of lank hair. "I don't understand how you can think so little of yourself."

"I have done a lot that you don't know about, Haryon; things that you will never find out and things that I am ashamed of." Severus answered in son in a stony voice, his face hard but neutral.

"But you have also done so much which is good. You make potions for the school's Infirmary without being asked; you're there for any of your Slytherins if they ever need you; you went against the Dark Lord and saved so many lives by giving information to the Order; you're a wonderful godfather to Draco; you helped Uncle Lucius keep sane after Aunt Narcissa's death. And, most importantly of all, you found me in that alleyway and gave me a home when no one else wanted me." Harry listed gently, keeping his eyes fixed with his father's.

"Only for my own selfish reasons. I merely wanted someone who would love me unconditionally."

"Now you're just being stubborn."

"Haryon..." Severus began seriously but was cut off when his son pulled himself closer, moulding himself against his firm chest in a close embrace.

"I don't want to get into an argument with you, Father, so let's not say any more, hmm? You're clearly not going to change your mind and nothing you say is going to make me change mine so let's stop before one of us says something we'll regret." Harry breathed, resting his head on the man's shoulder comfortably.

Slowly, Severus' dark mood melted away and he sighed gently as he brought his arms around Harry, returning the hug fully. "I wonder just how many thirteen year old boys still enjoy sharing affection with their fathers?" He mused lightly, resting his head against the his son's gently.

"I don't think it's fair that people expect boys to suddenly stop showing their love for their family when they grow up. Girls get to cuddle and kiss their parents all their lives and boys are expected to stop when they reach a certain age; it's ridiculous really."

"It's expected because experience has taught us that that's how things usually go."

"Well I'm going to be different and I don't care what anyone says about it; I'm not ashamed to show that I love you."

"Yes, but you've never been exactly normal have you my dear?" Severus pointed out affectionately.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Harry said with a light smile, earning a small chuckle from the man whose arms he was securely wrapped in.

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17th August 1991: Mid-Afternoon

Harry stepped out of the Apothecary in Diagon Alley and breathed in a huge gulp of fresh air in an attempt to rid his lungs of the hot, potiony air which had found its way into his system thanks to the shop behind him. He absolutely despised the shop and had only agreed to go in there with his father's orders under protest. It was not as if Severus was simply being lazy in making him go though. The man was currently in the process of making one of those marathon-long-to-brew potions which also needed constant surveillance during the entire process. Harry, unfortunately, could not have even suggested that his godfather do it as the blond man and his son were still holidaying in the Wizarding section of the Austria (which was a lot like the Muggle Austria with the exception of the ski-resorts had ever-lasting, perfect snow and, well, the fact there were no Muggles allowed). Harry was not in Diagon Alley on his own though (like his father would ever allow that), he was there with Hagrid.

At least, he had been with Hagrid. They had separated after they had each withdrawn something from Gringotts. For Harry, it was money. For Hagrid, it was...Well, Harry was not entirely sure what it was that the half giant had taken from Vault 713. Whatever it was, it was obviously nothing which concerned him or he would have been told. Also, Hagrid seemed to want to keep it a secret from everyone, telling Harry that it was best that Harry did not mention it to anyone in a somewhat nervous voice. He had picked up on the fact it was something for Dumbledore so he was pretty sure of the fact that it was nothing to be suspicious of.

Glancing up at the sky with a hand held over his eyes, his palm just resting on the top of his glasses, to protect them from the harsh sunlight, Harry tried to determine what the time was as he had neither a watch nor his wand with him. He judged from the sun's position that it was quite a bit after midday and the time for him to meet up with Hagrid again was probably coming up. That was no hardship though; the visit to the Apothecary had been the last errand he had needed to run that day. Since he was meeting up with his companion for the day by Flourish & Blotts, he thought there was no harm in getting there a little early as the extra time could be spent browsing through the shelves to see if there was anything of interest. Considering the time of year though, he was sceptical that the majority of the stock would consist of anything more than the books which were on the Hogwarts book list.

Just as he turned to head off in the direction of the bookshop, a short, sharp gasp escaped Harry as a strange sensation ran through him, seeming to emanate from the lightning-bolt scar which marred his forehead, hidden mostly by the sweep of his hair. He froze mid-step and then, guided by some un-identifiable instinct, he swung around, eyes fixing on a very definite spot just ahead of him. It did not take him long to spot the black cloaked figure which glided through crowds, strangely going un-noticed by everyone else in the area. Harry was very aware of the strange person though and there was no hesitation or even a spared thought for Hagrid before he had started off after them, his slow walk quickly becoming a jog and then speeding into full blown run in an attempt to shorten the distance between him and the other.

Frustratingly, after a minute or two of pursuit on Harry's part, it became apparent that no matter how fast Harry ran or how successfully he dodged the other people who were around him, the gap between him and the cloaked figure never closed. In fact, if anything, Harry swore that it was actually getting bigger and the figure was pulling away from him. He was not about to give up however. His scar still felt odd, not painful but not in the least comfortable either, and he knew, he just knew, that it had something to do with the person her was chasing after.

The chase was abruptly cut off however when Harry saw exactly where the cloaked figure was heading; straight into Knockturn Alley. Harry was in no way a coward, not in any sense of the word, but he could not deny the small niggle of apprehension which was ever present at the back of his mind whenever he considered Knockturn Alley. It was hardly a happy place after all and if there were going to be Death Eaters anywhere it was going to be in Knockturn Alley...Or Slytherin but at least that was something he did not have to worry about right at that moment.

Harry gradually slowed to a stop just in front of the steps which led down to the dark, dreary place which always radiated a sort of chill even in the middle of summer. From where he stood, it seemed to be deserted but every so often, a moving shadow would catch his gaze and remind him that appearances were often deceptive. For a long few moments he stood there, staring down into the darkness, unsure of what to do. Eventually, curiosity and courage over-ruled caution and common-sense. The boy took a deep, steadying breath before taking a single step forward. That single step would have become a couple of steps if not for the fact a slim hand suddenly came to rest on his shoulder, causing him to jump and swing around to face whoever it was.

To is surprise and confusion, he found himself now standing face to face with one Lily Evans turned Potter. She had barely aged from when he had last seen her about five years ago which he had to admit was rather impressive. "Mrs Potter." He greeted her in a polite, neutral tone.

"Hello, Haryon isn't it?" The woman replied with a small smile, his hand still not moving from his shoulder.

"Yes, that's right. Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, erm, no, not particularly, I just thought you looked a bit lost, standing in front of Knockturn Alley like that. Waiting for your father are you?" Lily queried in a friendly tone which, oddly, held a hint of fluster in it; from the stories his father had told him, Lily Evans had always been a confident, self-assured girl.

"No, I'm here with Hagrid today. He left me to get measured for some new robes and I'm just on my way to meet up with him again."

"You're meeting him in Knockturn Alley?"

"No, outside Flourish & Blotts."

"Oh, in that case, would you mind if I joined you? I was just on my way there myself."

There really was no way he could deny the woman that without appearing to be un-necessarily rude. So, holding back a roll of his eyes, he gave a very small sigh before turning away from Knockturn Alley to head off in the direction which the book shop was in. "I would be delighted if you'd join me, Mrs Potter." He said politely, for once glad that he had been raised by a Malfoy as much as a Snape; he had learned how to act civil to those he had no desire to be around.

"So how comes you're out with Hagrid today?" Mrs Potter asked as they walked down Diagon Alley side by side.

"My godfather is in Austria with his son and my father is currently in the process of brewing a potion which requires constant surveillance." Harry answered as it occurred to him that his scar had stopped feeling odd several minutes ago.

"Such respect you show your family."

"Because they deserve more respect than anyone else in the world."

"If only all sons thought like you do. Mine's only just turned eleven and he already acts as if he's seventeen and his own man."

"Yes, well, most sons have not had their lives saved by their fathers."

"You're father saved your life?" That obviously surprised the woman for some reason.

"He saved my life before I was his son. He found me abandoned in an alleyway when I was a few hours old. Despite the fact it was in the middle of summer and I was wrapped quite securely in a blanket, it's doubtful I would've lasted the night if he hadn't have found me. And then to have taken me in and loved me as his own...I have never, nor will I ever, met such a wonderful, loving man."

"He found you in an alleyway?" Mrs Potter gasped, her face suddenly rather pale.

"Yes. It was amazing that he took me in really. His first summer out of Hogwarts, eighteen years old, without a job or any real prospects, and he didn't even hesitate to adopt me."

Harry glanced to the woman at his side and was rather taken aback by how pale her face was now and how startled she looked. It was very odd. It could not be that she was shocked with the tales of Severus's kindness; after all, she had been the only one to make an effort to be nice to him when they had been at school together. There was definitely something that had shocked Lily Potter though, it was just very hard to figure out what it was.

"Mum!" A woefully familiar voice reached them then and Harry sighed lightly when he realised who was about to join them. Alas, no more than half a minute later, the figure of Johnathan Potter came through the crowds. He was taller than Harry remembered him, obviously, and the boy now wore glasses but other than that he was un-changed. Upon reaching Harry and his mother, the boy glared at him. "What are you doing with my mum?" He demanded with an accusing tone.

"John, don't be so rude." Lily scolded her son lightly.

"It's no worry, Mrs Potter." Harry assured her, deciding to be the more mature one here. "I hadn't realised you were here with your son."

"Yes, we're here to get him ready for Hogwarts." The woman told him proudly, her son's face taking on an arrogant expression at that.

"Oh, so you're coming to Hogwarts this year then?" Harry asked politely for the sake of the boy's mother more than anything.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Johnathan demanded with a glare.

Harry shook his head a little. "No reason, I was just making polite conversation but that's obviously beyond your ability." In the distance, over the top of the crowd, he spotted Hagrid was returning to come and meet him. "I have to go now. It was nice to see you again, Mrs Potter; good day." He said before moving around them and heading towards the half giant up ahead.

"Alrigh' there 'Arry." Hagrid greeted him cheerfully when they reached each other. "Got everythin' yer need?"

"Yep. It's all being delivered."

"Good, good. Best be gettin' ya back to Hogwarts then; sure ya dad wants ya back in time to 'ave some supper." The big man smiled as he moved forward, Harry turning back to face the way he had just come as he did. Hagrid gently ushered him to move as well and together they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

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1st September 1991: Evening

Harry did nothing more than tap the pads of his fingers in applause when Johnathan Potter was officially Sorted into Gryffindor. The little twerp deserved no more effort than that from him and Harry had no reason to be joyful of it either; sharing a House with someone who would no doubt become the bane of his existence was not exactly something to celebrate. There was something else though, another reason why Harry was less than enthusiastic about clapping and it had to do with the man who was currently sitting at the front of the Great Hall, right next to his father.

His name was Quirrel, or Professor Quirrel as he would have to call him, and he was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. From the few times that Harry had been around the man so far, hearing him speak and observing his manner, he, admittedly, seemed pretty harmless. He was shy and rather timid and spoke with a stutter; he really did appear to be completely safe. Except there was something about him...Something which un-nerved Harry greatly but, as was usual in this sort of situation, he was unable to quite put his finger on what exactly it was that raised fear in him.

Now not even pretending to pay attention to the Sorting, Harry watched as Professor Quirrel and his father whispered to each other discreetly. Surely that was proof that the new professor was safe; that his father obviously trusted the man enough to talk to him. After all, Severus hardly known for his love of social interaction with anyone outside his immediate family. But what if there was something that his father was unaware of? Harry had been the only one who had been wary of Peter Pettigrew after all and look how that turned out. So, no matter how much he thought about it, he was still left with the same, un-answerable question; did he have a real reason to be suspicious of the new professor or was he simply being paranoid?

Suddenly, completely by chance, Harry's eyes casually met with those of Professor Quirrel across the Great Hall just as Ron Weasley was Sorted into Gryffindor. A loud cheer rose up around him, everyone glad to have another Weasley aboard the happy ship of Gryffindor and so effectively covered up the pain gasped that wrenched its way past the dark haired boy's lips. His hands flew up to cover his burning scar and his head bent down low in an effort to disguise the expression which was no doubt on his face. This was similar to what had happened before, but it was also very different from before, that day in Diagon Alley. Then, it had been merely uncomfortable. This was more than uncomfortable; this actually hurt and not just a little bit, it hurt a lot.

"Harry? You alright, mate?" Fred whispered, his head ducking down to lean in closer to his friend's face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry reassured rather breathlessly, the pain starting to fade, no longer as sharp or piercing as it had first been.

"Are you sure? You don't need to see Madam Pomfrey or anything?" George asked, leaning half over his twin in order to be heard.

"No really, it's alright, I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache, it's not as bad as it was, it'll pass fully in a moment." The dark haired boy insisted, forcing a weak smile onto his face. Neither of the twins looked particularly convinced with that assurance but they apparently decided to let it pass, nodding their heads in unison and turning back to face the front of the Great Hall.

Obviously being a glutton for punishment or something equally as stupid, Harry looked back over to his father and Quirrel. The new professor had gone back to watching the children a few feet in front of the Head Table being Sorted. His father, on the other hand, still was not paying attention to the Sorting, instead opting to stare straight at Harry. Their eyes met for a split second before Harry quickly dropped his. He had a horrible feeling that the Potions Master had seen his little "episode" and the man, not being an idiot, would know that it was more than mere headache.

It seemed like the next thing Harry was aware of, the Sorting Feast had ended and everyone was starting to rise, getting ready to go to their dorm rooms for their first night back. He rose with Fred and George and joined them in giving Ron a wave as he was led out of the Great Hall with the rest of the new Gryffindor First Years. Much to his distaste, Harry noticed that the Potter boy seemed to be getting relatively friendly with the latest Weasley to attend Hogwarts. He knew it was none of his business and he was not going to interfere, he just thought that Ron could do a whole lot better than having Potter for a friend.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Severus was speaking to one of the Sixth Year prefects, his gaze occasionally flickering over to him. Harry knew what was coming; his father was going to check up on him. He had noticed the small episode of pain and now he wanted answers. Well, if the man wanted answers, he was going to have to fight for them because Harry was now determined to get out of the hall as fast as possible to avoid having to talk about it. The twins and he started to head out and it all went well for a little while before Fred decided to ruin it:

"Hey Harry, your dad's coming over."

"Yes, I know." Harry muttered, trying to discreetly prod the boy back into movement.

"Well? Aren't you going to go see what he wants?" George asked, looking over his shoulder and down slightly at their friend who was even smaller than them now as they had both had a growth spurt over the summer.

"No, now move." Harry growled out, pushing him a bit more forcefully but it was still nothing more than a light pressure.

"Why not?" Fred asked and if ever Harry had been tempted to hit someone, it was then. However, before he could give into that temptation or even phrase a proper reply to the question, Professor Snape had reached them and the dark haired boy no longer had a hope of escape.

"Alright there, Professor?" Fred and George chorused together, small grins on the faces.

"Messrs Weasley." The man replied, his face stony and his tone neutral.

"See you back at the Tower, Harry." Fred said by way of good-bye as he and George scampered off leaving their friend alone with the intimidating teacher.

Harry swallowed nervously before forcing a smile onto his face and then tilting his head back to look up at his father. "Don't you have be down in the dungeons to settle the First Years?"

"That can wait. I need to put my own mind at rest first."

"Oh?" It came out as no more than a nervous squeak.

"I shall get straight to the point as you are so concerned with my new First Years; what happened exactly when Ronald Weasley was Sorted? And do not try and feign ignorance, I saw the entire thing." Severus warned, folding his arms over his chest and looking down at his son with a light frown which to the correctly trained eye was clearly a frown of worry rather than anger or suspicion or whatever else.

"Oh that, it was nothing much, just a sudden headache; caught me off guard is all." Harry reassured, proud that he managed to get that all out rather convincingly. "It's gone now; nothing to worry about."

The next few seconds passed dreadfully slowly as Severus scrutinised Harry carefully, obviously trying to decide whether the boy was being truthful or not. Meanwhile, Harry was trying so incredibly hard not to shift on his feet or act suspicious in any way but anxiously wondering whether his story was going to be believed or not was making him feel rather antsy. It made things no better that the man gave nothing away with his expression. He could be thinking about what he was going to say to his new First Years or he could be considering the various torture techniques he was going to use to get the truth out of his son; there really was no way for Harry to even guess his father's train of thought.

"You say it's gone now?" Severus questioned, ending the seconds of still silence, the two of them the only ones left in the Great Hall though Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall stood and watched the father and son silently at the door.

"Mmhmm." Harry hummed with a nod.

"Very well. If it comes back, however, you are to come down to the dungeons and I'll give you a potion for it."

This was one of the occasions which Harry hated and which he found happening increasingly often. His father did not believe him; it was painfully obvious and it made his stomach feel like a dead weight in his body. Guilt washed over him and he was acutely aware that the man in front of him was feeling more than a little disappointed in him. But to go back on what he had said would be to admit that he had just basically lied to his father's face and he could not do that. So, instead of relieving his guilt and telling the truth, he merely bowed his head and whispered:

"Thank you."

"You had best go and get settle once again into your dorm room; Professor McGonagall appears to be waiting for you."

Harry glanced over his shoulder and noticed to the elderly teachers before turning to look back at his father. Although the man was not angry with him, there was an uneasiness between them which Harry wanted to deal with as quickly as possible before it could stew and cause problems between them later on. So, acting without concern of anyone who might be watching, the long haired boy stood up on the tip of his toes and planted a firm, but sweet, kiss on the corner of the thin line of the man's mouth as he wrapped his arms around his waist and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

That seemed to work wonderfully as Severus practically melted into his son's hold, his own arms coming around the smaller figure as he leaned down and kissed the top of the boy's head when he had relaxed his feet and returned to his normal height. They remained like that for a few moments before the Potions Master pulled away gently and somewhat reluctantly.

"Go on, away with you, brat, before I decide to be on the safe side and make you spend the night under Madam Pomfrey's care." He threatened though his newly lightened tone meant that it was meant in nothing but pure jest.

Harry beamed up at the man in amusement and happiness, more than relieved that his tactic had worked and there were no bad feeling left between them. When he got a small twitch of the upper lip from his father, Harry turned and hurried over to the doors of the Great Hall where the Headmaster and his Head of House were still standing, each with their own, small smiles on their faces.
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Family Means More Than Blood