Chapter 4

Upon returning home, Snape had set up his work space and was now brewing.

The antidote was slowly simmering in the cauldron behind him, no longer requiring his attention except for the occasional, perfunctory glance.

He extinguished the flame under this cauldron now, and cast an Insulation Charm. This antidote had a very fast rate of expiration, but would last longer if maintained at a lukewarm temperature.

Snape turned back to his brewing cauldron now, and stirred it absentmindedly as he felt a pair of eyes on him.

Harry.

"Where've you been to all day?" Harry inquired, looking in on Snape. "I haven't seen you since morning..." He flushed, and, Snape had to admit, a warm feeling had made it into his own chest too, at the memory...

"...James and I just got back. Snape?" Harry called, when the man gave no indication of having heard.

He nodded. "And how was your day?"

"Would have been better with you," Harry told Snape, laughing. "I just came in to ask if you'd have tea with me."

"I've had things to do," he answered cryptically.

"I see that. What are you brewing?" the boy inquired.

"Potter. This must be the first time you have ever shown any interest in Potions. Willingly. Can you honestly tell me that you are interested?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Harry came in and wrapped his arms around Snape. "No."

Harry's response was so predictable that Snape let out a bark of laughter at Harry's bluntness.

"Brat."

"Now I think you're confusing me with James..."

Snape looked at Harry seriously, considering him. "You are Harry Potter, graduate of Hogwarts, terrible Potions student. Am I mistaken?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Snape caught Harry's chin and tilted the boy's face up until he was looking into bespectacled green eyes. His mouth came down on Harry's, and kissed him lazily, ridiculously slow, focused on nothing except Harry, their proximity sending shivers down Snape's spine as his tongue danced softly, oh-so-slowly along Harry's lips; at times parting them and feeling his tongue meeting Harry's, the shivers continuing to dance along his spine.

He never wanted this to end. Snape had never known anyone who would give him as much pleasure, even by kissing idly like they were doing, as with Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Finally the pulled apart, Snape looking hazily at Harry, eyes full of pleasure.

"So... tea?" Harry repeated, voice grown inexplicably hoarse on these two simple words.

Snape allowed himself to lean in and leave one more kiss imprinted on Harry's mouth.

"Yes," he whispered against Harry's lips, and his breath on Harry's mouth made the boy shiver.

Harry nodded, eyes half-lidded, hand on Snape's elbow (to steady himself?) as he stepped away.

"Half an hour," he told Snape. "Will you be finished brewing by then?"

"I only need ten more minutes," Snape answered. Though he needed to check. The potion might have finished while he was kissing Harry...

He did tend to lose track of time when their mouths tended to meet.

"Ten more minutes, then," Harry stepped away from Snape and disappeared up the stairs.

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James was on the top of the steps as Snape ascended, and, quite without thinking (or knowing what came over him, really), Snape picked the child up in his arms with an exaggerated WOOSH sound, making the boy giggle as he found himself very high up all of a sudden.

It was probably the surprise that did it. Snape had never been able to make a child laugh just because, he, Snape, meant it to happen.

James' small hand reached out and tangled in Snape's hair.

The only time children did this was right before they were about to pull on said hair, not minding the discomfort that this would cause...

James did not complete the motion with a pull to Snape's hair, however.

Just held it in his fist, looking at Snape.

"James? What're you up to?" Harry's voice called from the kitchen, nearing, as he approached.

"There you are," he told Snape when he came out of the kitchen and saw the older man.

"Tea's ready," he said unnecessarily. As though he needed to invite Snape...

Then, taking James from Snape, he went back into the kitchen.

Following after Harry and settling himself in his regular place at the table, cups already out and tea pot already stewing the tea under a thick cotton cozy.

He's really not so bad, Snape concluded, watching Harry give James his bottle, filled with tea and more sugar than Snape himself would have preferred...

But James did not seem to notice Snape's preference as the rubber nipple made it into his mouth and he sucked, drinking his tea.

Content, Snape turned attention to his own tea cup, and poured tea for himself and Harry.

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Before he disappeared in his potions lab once more, Harry caught Snape's elbow and smiled.

James did not notice as he continued to drink his own tea, looking almost majestic in his High Chair.

Harry steals one kiss from Snape's lips, half-hidden from James' young eyes by the kitchen door, before leaving Snape to finish brewing whatever it was he was making.

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In the evening, potions successfully completed, cooled and under various protective charms (Anti-Shatter for the vial, Preservation Charm, to name a few).

He was currently behind the tabletop, staring at a familiar rectangular, wooden box.

Could he do this? Now it seemed an act of limitless arrogance, to force himself on Harry like that.

When only this morning, he had thought of it differently. As a gesture denoting respect (really, Severus? Respect? You only feel respect for the Boy-Who-Lived, do you?)...

Finalising his decision, he reached a trembling hand and, taking up the object, left his potions laboratory.

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The potion was on the night-table (the other inside its drawer) when Snape, dressed in naught by his bathrobe, over his pants, sat on the bed he should probably be thinking of as his own and Harry's at this point, when Harry came in.

"James is asleep now," Harry let Snape know, beginning to undress. "You wanted to tell me something?"

Snape nodded. But he waited until Harry could give Snape his full attention. And so, robes hanging off a chair and Harry in a bathrobe, much like Snape (Snape only ever kept bathrobes hanging in his loo, for casual use), sat on the bed, looking at Snape expectantly.

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable to begin this conversation, but knowing that it had to take place.

"As you know, Harry, in the magical world intimate relations are taken very seriously..." Snape paused, looking at Harry.

Harry nodded, for Snape to continue.

"And as such, proper wizards and witches do not tread on sexual matters lightly. This activity is in high regard in the Wizarding World, and is never entered into lightly." Snape frowned. "Except by the most improper types in our world. But their punishment finds them rather quickly."

"Why are you telling me this, Snape?" Harry asked, his heart beginning to hammer. Does Snape want to end it all with me? Or is he... is he going to go and reveal what we have been up to these past few days...

"You mean more to me than just our having sex, Harry," Snape told him seriously. "And while you might not know the connotation of engaging in plainly carnal relations in our world, you may be certain that I do. And as such, it falls to me to take the next step. We cannot go on as we have been."

Next step? Cannot go on?

"Are you breaking up with me?" Harry asked, voice turning shriller on the last word. He closed his mouth shut abruptly on the embarrassing sound.

"No. I could never break up with you..." Snape said, meaning every word, and Harry's heart hammered for an entirely different reason now...

Snape's dark eyes were boring into Harry's. And in them, he saw...

He took out the wooden, rectangular box from the folds of his robe.

Harry's eyes widened. Was Snape... going to PROPOSE?

As though he had read Harry's intentions, Snape interrupted them.

"Ours will be an act of commitment to each other on the basis of mutual respect. I do know you are married, Harry. This is not a matrimonial bond."

Snape opened the clasps of the box with the pads of his thumbs, and Harry saw two small bronze bands, badly tarnished, lacking any gemstones whatsoever, inside.

There was no other word to describe them. They were ugly.

But then again, so was Snape. If one looked from the perspective of the superficial...

Snape went on to explain that this is a pre-governmental rite. The Ministry for Magic will not be made aware of this because this is ancient magic that was let go of in favour of a much simpler bonding ritual. He went on to explain that at this point in the Wizarding World, bonding rituals have the single use of being solely matrimonial, but ancient rites could convey a whole spectre of functions.

And this rite, conveys regard.

"Why, Snape?" Harry asked. He did not understand why Snape would bother – didn't he already know Harry's regard for the older man? They have been friends for a little while now, and, whatever this was, surely Snape could see that it wasn't casual? For God's sake, Harry wanted to have sexual relations with someone other than his wife! If Snape wasn't important to him, Harry wouldn't have done any of it.

"Because you matter, Harry," Snape said very softly, yet very definitively, his eyes looking into Harry's, intent on the minutest detail. "Because should something happen," he added. Like us being forced to part... Snape could not be certain about his wife's motivations, and what would await him in future in any regard greater than the little bit of faith that he had in the Ministry for Magic justice system.

He didn't trust the Ministry for Magic any more than he trusted his ball-and-chain.

Snape smiled grimly. The words seemed more than a metaphor, of late...

He wanted a happy memory, plain and simple. A memory of having actually been part of a good relationship, however briefly...

He couldn't finish.

Because I want to have something. Of you. Of us...

Harry's arms went around Snape, clutching at him.

"You're not going anywhere, Snape," Harry told the man firmly. "We don't need any symbols..."

Snape shook his head. "I just want to have something of you, Harry." There, he'd said it. He would surely get it now, revealing his weakness, his need to share something with Harry...

….Something of a Forever, if not a Happily Ever After...

He looked down.

A hand came underneath Snape's chin, reminiscent of a move, many times before, that Snape had done to Harry.

It was Harry's turn to lift Snape's chin with a finger and look into Snape's face searchingly.

"You're the best relationship I ever had, Harry," Snape said softly. "I want to remember this..." he gulped, but went ahead and told Harry anyway. "...Forever."

It took barely a moment before Harry realised what his answer was going to be.

"What do we need to do?" Harry asked, his decision unmistakeable.

"Nothing complicated," Snape answered.

He took out his wand, and holding it in one hand, took the rectangular, wooden box in the other.

Corpus, cor, anima mea, et mundus tibi, Snape voiced, and Harry saw the glimmer of something that looked like letters forming, in the glow inside the inner surfaces of both rings.

He picked one of the rings out of the box. Keeping it no farther from Snape s to nullify the incantation, he saw that words actually were being written inside the rings as Snape continued to chant, his words sounding as mournful and yet, beautiful, as phoenix song. The letters first glowed golden and then became dark-grey, looking like indentations made in metal as more words appeared, in beautiful golden glow, before settling down into quiet stability...

Harry wondered if that was really what love was. Not the pretty, golden glow of a new relationship, but this very stability of coming to love the person you are with, not for the better or for the worse, but for the understanding...

votum aeterna, deus et fata volendi

Harry set the ring back, they way it was situated. As he did so, he felt a warm tendril of magic envelop his hand. He shivered. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

in caritate et cum fide ac veritatis

quamdiu enim sumus, in corpore et anima

It really did sound as thought Snape were singing, and lost in the music, Harry realised how beautiful the sound of Snape's voice actually was...

And then Snape was silent, and only the echo of the uttered words rang in Harry's ears. But even in the silence, Harry realised that he loved this sombre man. Snape was beautiful even when there were no words...

The silence resonated when Snape, reaching a hand towards Harry (the hand that, a moment before, held the rings), took a strand of Harry's hair between his fingers and, with the motion of his wand, cut off a lock of Harry's hair.

Taking one of the rings, he wrapped Harry's hair around the circumference of it as he whispered,

Polliceor me diligere, honorare,

et verebimini tibi...

The hair glowed bright silver for a moment, before absorbing into the metal of the ring and disappearing without a trace.

"Promise accepted," Snape said softly as he watched the ring on his finger turn silver, as ancient, protective runes covered the outside just as the words of love and promise filled the inside...

Then he slid the ring onto his finger (his ring finger it was, but Harry didn't dare wonder what Snape meant by it), and was looking oddly at Harry.

As though he wanted to ask for something, but didn't dare...

Harry preempted him.

"Is it my turn now?"

"What?" Snape asked.

"Do I now do the same thing with the second ring?" Harry asked, fingering a bit of Snape's hair.

"You are married. I wasn't planning on-" Snape began.

"You said these aren't wedding vows. If they're not, why can't I made the same vow to you?" Harry countered.

"You can, I suppose," Snape, confused, answered. "Is it something you want to do?"

"It seems rather an empty vow, if only one of us is promising anything," Harry half-smiled.

"Alright," Snape agreed. "Do you know what to say?"

Harry shook his head. "Talk with me through it?"

In response, Snape took hold of Harry's hand and put the second ring on his finger. His middle finger it was – this was not a romantic settlement. Snape, it seems, respected Harry's attachments as much as he was promising to respect Harry...

"Harry," Snape whispered, and there was so much more that he didn't say, imprinted in the timbre of his voice, than what he merely said...

Raising Harry's hand, he kissed the bony protrusions, filled with more gratitude than he had ever had towards a single human being...

Then he let Harry's hand rest on his lap as he took hold of a lock of his own hair, severed it and wrapped it around Harry's finger where the ring was.

"Now repeat after me..." Snape taught Harry.

Polliceor diligere,

"Polliceor diligere," Harry repeated, and the ring on Harry's finger warmed.

Honorare,

"Honorare," Harry repeated once again, following Snape's lead. Tendrils of brilliant white shone through the tarnished metal of the ring, through Harry's hair, fixed to the ring by Snape's long fingers...

Et verebimini tibi.

"Et verebimini tibi," Harry finished, his hand cradled in Snape's.

The ring on Harry's finger was identical to the one on Snape's, now.

CRACK!

Harry's wedding band broke apart, falling to the floor with a rattling, rolling sound.

Harry bent to pick up the ring.

When he sat back next to Snape, the man was looking at Harry. Pensive.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," he finally said. "Our promise has nothing to do with matrimonial bonds..."

He picked up the broken pieces of the ring.

"Repair it, Harry," he whispered, handing Harry his wand.

"Reparo!" Harry incanted. The broken pieces twitched in Harry's hand, but did not reform.

Snape stared at Harry, eyes wide.

He reached a trembling hand for his wand, which Harry placed back in Snape's hand.

"Reparo," Snape whispered, and the ring pieces reformed.

Snape put the wedding band back where it belonged on Harry's finger.

They were quiet a long time after that.

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Snape took a long time in the loo, getting ready for bed.

The ring from Harry glittered on his finger, bright and promising, but something still nagged at him.

The strange behaviour of Potter wedding band. Why did it shatter? And moreover, why had Potter been unable to repair it, but he himself, proved successful? He knew that intent coloured magic, of course, but to assume that Potter did not want that wedding band back on his finger would be too presumptuous for Snape to conclude...

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His worrisome thoughts dissipated when he saw Harry waiting for him in his bed.

There was something he wished to verify – something that would tell him just how well-suited he and Harry were...

Taking the vial of potion out of his robes pocket, Snape undressed and left the robe on the chair next to his side of the bed.

"What's that?" Harry asked when he saw the vial.

"Something I was wondering about for a few days now," Snape replied.

"What?"

Sitting on the bed, in full view of Harry, Snape answered.

"If you and I were man and woman, would we have suited," Snape asked Harry. "I made this potion because I want to find out..."

"What does it do?" Harry asked, half-realising that he already had an idea.

"A temporary transformation," Snape answered. "Would you care to indulge me?"

"It's... reversible?" Harry reiterated.

"Yes. You need have no worries on this regard."

"Alright."

Snape brought the vial to his lips and tipped it, opening his mouth.

The potion tasted like cinnamon wrapped in rose petals, but the transformation was immediate.

He was grateful he added Dittany to it, however – he never did like the cloying scent of flowers.

Harry must have seen something in Snape's face, because, when the vial was half-full, Harry took Snape's hand, the one holding the vial, away from the older man's mouth and out of his hand.

Then Harry kissed the older man, and Snape's eyes fell closed, Harry's mouth moving against his quickly becoming the most delicious feeling in the world, quite effectively taking the taste of potion out of Snape's mouth. He dimly heard the vial's soft thud as it was set on the night-table, but couldn't be bothered to think any more as Harry's mouth caressed his own.

His fingertips found his wand and he dimmed the lights with a wordless Nox, leaving only the single candle on Harry's night-table as they continued to kiss.

Making love with a man in a woman's body was completely different to doing so as a man.

Perhaps it had something to do with the nakedness of his skin. As a female, Snape found that he had a lot less hair – covering his arms, his legs, his torso – and a lot more nerve endings open and sensing Harry's movements as the younger man rolled on top of Snape.

It was just a kiss to the neck, but then why did it ignite Snape so, making him feel aflame with desire, as if he would spontaneously combust if Harry stopped touching him?

The nipples were a different case entirely.

When Potter's hands brushed them, Snape, hardly predicting this behaviour if someone would have asked him about it, moaned in pleasure as Harry petted his breasts. Wetness formed between his legs at Potter's contact, and hazily Snape wondered if Potter had made him come...

He felt the long, hard length of Potter's erection and rubbed himself on it, earning a ragged moan from Potter and some interesting new sensations for himself. His groin pulsed, inwards, as though it sensed the proximity of Potter's cock and wanted nothing more than, deeper acquaintance.

When Potter took one of Snape's nipples into his mouth, Snape's whole world went brilliantly white as Potter alternated sucking, then licking in between nibbling... Snape himself preferred the sucking, which he let Potter know, quite vocally, with just one word, gasped out into Potter's mouth.

"More!"

Harry complied admirably.

When Potter entered him, stilling when he was sheathed inside of Snape, allowing him to get used to the intrusion, Snape was in bliss.

Only dimly, somewhere inside his brain, did he remember that sex for the first time was supposed to hurt. For women.

But the little voice was completely drowned out when Potter started to move inside him.

"So wet! So tight!" Potter kept on a steady dialogue of encouragements as he thrust, deeper and deeper, with increasing friction, inside Snape.

Then Snape learned another trick.

"Grip me, Snape," Harry whispered against Snape's ear, and Snape shivered and became (impossibly, even) wetter, at the tingle that went down his spine at Harry's words.

When he realised what Harry meant and squeezed his inner muscles around Harry's cock, Potter's thrusting became infinitely more pleasurable.

For a brief moment, it felt as though he were going to die from pleasure – the waves of it seemed never-ending as Potter rhythmically thrust inside Snape, over and over, and Snape could do nothing except gasp, could not form any words because all he saw was a shimmering haze where Harry was, above him, and the unrelenting waves, coming, cresting and ebbing away, and it was brilliant, and he clenched at Potter's erection inside of him, unwilling to ever let him go, as Potter moaned and said something incomprehensible (something that sounded like aurghh!). Snape felt blissful, and so completely unlike anything he had ever felt before as he felt something warm and thick and spurting from Potter's cock fill his insides as Potter collapsed on top of him.

He never realised that sex could be like this, came the thought, when he and Harry were lying, arms and legs entwined, as they attempted to get their breaths back, Snape's nose in Harry's hair.

"Bloody brilliant," he whispered into the darkness, thankful that it was too dark for Harry to see the foolish grin that was plastered on Snape's face that he seemingly could do nothing about because all of his muscles seem to have been melted into sludge in the wake of his last, toe-curling climax.

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That was why, when Potter pressed a vial to his lips and asked Snape to fuck him, Snape didn't have the heart to say no.

He drank the phial of antidote as Harry drank the remaining half of the potion, until he sensed that the transformations had begun (himself, male, Harry, female), and set the potions vials back on the night-table, half full as they waited to ride out the effects of their respective changes.

They played around for a while, Snape leisurely kissing the shell of Harry's ear, down his neck, licking his way down Harry's back at the special place between his shoulder blades.

Harry was no more prepared for the new sensations that assaulted him than Snape had been.

But he did beg more freely, desperately, and much more often.

And more beautifully, Snape concluded as he pounced on Harry, erection hard between his thighs and wanting nothing more than to devour the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry gave as good as he got.

Kissing, for one, was just as irresistible for Snape as it had been for Harry. But, Snape had to concede, in this form, the advantage was most definitely Harry's.

Warm, moist, pliant lips, that seemed determined to find Snape's most sensitive spot and take furious advantage, until Snape was gasping, cock hard and smearing pre-come on Harry's thigh, and his fingers splaying Harry open in an attempt to get back some of his own.

Until his fingers entered Harry's hole, he was fairly certain he got the upper hand. But when Harry twisted, and Snape felt all of that delicious wetness, the clenching, throbbing muscles there just for him... delicious, lovely, wonderful...

He wasn't sure he was succeeding, even when Harry would momentarily freeze in his ministrations as Snape caressed what must have been a particularly wonderful spot that would make Harry mewl in pleasure and press down on Snape's hand, begging Snape to take him...

They played the back-and-forth for a while, and Snape was fairly certain that the winner was not himself, as Harry clambered over Snape and, a moment later, Snape's cock-head was engulfed in warm, squelching wetness.

Then Harry contracted himself around Snape and Snape's vision went grey as he nearly came.

And that... is when Harry started to move.

Not deeply, his movements seemed geared towards making Snape impatient and driving him completely spare, it seemed. Because Harry seemed in no rush as he rode Snape's cock, allowing Snape no deeper than Harry himself wanted, withholding that ultimate pleasure by teasing Snape with too-slow movements that were unsatisfying and insanely frustrating.

At least until Snape got a bit of his own back by pulling Harry's face down into a kiss.

When they pulled away, Harry actually allowed Snape to set the rhythm, as Snape thrust himself, unimpeded and resolute, inside Harry, into that ever-narrowing tunnel as Snape felt Harry grip the head of his cock with his inner muscles and it was good... so good... too good not to be pulled over the edge and come and come inside of Harry...

And then they really were coming, and Snape didn't know how he managed to last long enough to bring Harry off. Perhaps it was that they had had sex before this, and this had helped, stilling Snape's passion until he felt Harry contract around him., in climax. And if Snape could hold out no longer after that, surely that was alright...? If it weren't, he could always make the potion again, and they could keep taking it in turns, until they perfected their mastery...

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Morning dawned bright and early for Snape.

Actually, the sky was still grey when Snape opened his eyes. Harry was asleep next to him, and Snape wondered what had woken him.

Then he heard James fussing from the next room.

Oh, keep quiet, I'm coming, Snape thought as he lifted his side of the quilt and got out of bed, throwing a robe over himself, his feet feeling around (under the bed, too) for his slippers.

The antidote vial on the night-table drew Snape's attention. After writing Harry a brief note and placing it in front of the vial, Snape got up and headed in the direction of James' room.

If he were already awake, it only made sense that he'd check on James and save Harry the bother...

When he saw James, and here Snape couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something seemed off.

Awake and moving around, James was doing everything but making noise in his bed as he waited for an adult to take notice and take care of him.

This was strange. As though James were deliberately NOT making noise. But that didn't make sense...

"Come on up here James," Snape extended his arms towards the boy to lift him, and got another surprise.

Because James floated up to meet Snape's arms, Snape lifting him out of the air more than out of his bed. As if James knew how to fly...

How did James learn to fly in the first place?

Snape shook his head, dispelling the thought. He sat James down on the quilt-covered table top and began undressing him.

Snape knew James. The boy was a terrible flier.

He needed a fresh pair of pants to put James into...

With a soft thump, a pair of James' pants butted into Snape's head. Snape picked them up, now totally confused.

"James? Did you Summon yourself a new pair of pants?" Snape asked the boy seriously.

But James, bare of clothing from the waist down, ignored Snape in favour of playing with his feet.

The quiet...

The flying...

The pants, for crying out loud...

All were things that he, Snape, had wished for!

But that was impossible. He wasn't even holding his wand, at the moment!

Something glimmered on Snape's right hand.

"Let's just do a test, then, shall we?" Snape mused softly as he dressed James in new pants.

"Accio James' trousers! Snape commanded, and threw out his hand towards the boy's closet.

He was thinking of the boy's green-and-violet striped ones.

Imagine Snape's surprise, when those same trousers smacked into Snape's hand a moment later.

The silver band seemed to glow all-too-innocuously on his finger, but Snape knew better.

The ring grants the power of wandless magic! Snape concluded.

Oh, what a wondrous turn of events! What was it that the man told Snape – about the ring being a fake, about it being returned because of dissatisfied customers – well, Snape could be certain of one thing.

He didn't need Merlin's limitless magical powers to keep him from returning the ring he bought. Because Snape was quite satisfied with the powers that Merlin's ring did deign to give him...

James was dressed in the green-and-violet pyjamas bottoms, after which the boy headed down the stairs, to the kitchen, in Snape's arms.

Snape tossed James' soiled pants in the rubbish bin on the way downstairs.

Deciding to test his new, wondrous powers (here Snape was using the term loosely), he waved his hand and watched as, one by one, first a fresh bottle (one of James') flew towards Snape as he filled it with milk for the boy, and then the rubber nipple, that Snape affixed to the boy's bottle, and with a thought and single finger, heated the bottle ever-so-slightly, warmth emanating from his fingertip.

He'd never done this before, only ever preferring to cast actual Warming Charms.

But, as he held the now warm bottle, Snape realised that he was successful once again.

He tipped a bit of milk onto a spare bit of skin, testing it, and then gave it to James as they headed up the stairs.

Mere parlour tricks. All wizards were capable of doing wandless magic, to a particularly small degree, but...

No one could cast complicated spells wandlessly.

He sat James down into his bed. James was looking up at Snape, expectantly.

"What?" Snape asked.

James pointed to the floor, at a bright, flame-orange lion...

Accio James's lion! Snape commanded, and the toy obediently flew into Snape's hand. He gave the toy to James and settled the boy down, before sitting down on the faraway bed in the corner, out of James' sight.

James would fall back to sleep more readily, if he wasn't excited by the thought of other people, awake and milling about, around him...

Snape's fingertips played with the silver band on his finger. How would it feel, to conjure impressive feats of magic, without a wand, he wondered...

To feel like Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, always knowing the vast amount of power he wielded, and, unlike The Dark Lord, never letting it take control...

"Expecto Patronum," Snape whispered, for no reason in particular, lost in his thoughts...

Imagine his surprise when a doe pranced into the room, bowing its head to Snape, At your command, Master...

Snape was too busy blinking to react.

Bloody hell! If he could Summon a Patronus wandlessly, what couldn't he do?

Quite forgetting about James now, Snape amused himself by testing his magic – discovering what spells he were able to cast without aid of a wand. (James, meanwhile, had grown quite bored of the lion, and of Snape ignoring him, and had fallen asleep, as children tended to do for lack of a more engaging activity. Snape was able to hear his soft breathing as the boy slept).

Rather a lot, he came to the conclusion. And, it occurred to Snape, that Harry will awaken today to the same wondrous changes in his magic, as had occurred in Snape's...

And, while he was a long way from being invincible, this little skill was definitely an advantage to use in dire cases...

If Merlin were still alive, Snape would have gone down to his knees and thanked the man.

And speaking of dire...

He inscribed his name in the air before him, and was gratified to see letters appear, as though written in his script.

Snape smiled, an idea forming in his head...

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He couldn't remember feeling more comfortable as he sat before the Headmaster of Aria's school, as he finished telling the man that he was here to set up motions for Aria's expulsion from the school.

At first the man was flabbergasted, babbling something about being unable to return the tuition money that was paid in advance for the year, for Ms. Allweather's tutelage.

Snape couldn't care less. They weren't his galleons, after all.

Thanks to Harry, his daughter will finally be able to come home and none of Alison's threats mattered anymore...

Because at last Snape had the means to thwart her...

He finished signing the paperwork ( , as he had practised at home), and was told that the Application of Expulsion will be processed and finalised within the week.

The tuition fees will be returned, as it turned out, but within a month. Owls would be sent out, to the both of them (Mr and Mrs Allweather), later today, Snape was told, as regards Aria's status change.

Snape hoped that by the time Alison received her owl, he and Aria would be long gone from the school.

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Aria was called to the Headmaster's office during breakfast.

Her father was waiting for her.

She looked between the Headmaster and her father.

"As of this moment, you are no longer a student here, Miss Allweather," the Director began. "And as such, you are to go to your dormitory and pack your things.

"Why did you change your mind?" Aria asked as father and daughter walked down the corridor towards the student rooms.

"I missed you," Snape told his daughter honestly. He wasn't sure it was the right time and place to tell her about his new discovery.

"Mother always says I get in her way," Aria mused. "She takes me back to school early on Sunday because she can't bear to have me around for one more day..."

"What does your mother know?" Snape said gruffly, as they neared the room.

Packing was not a time-consuming endeavor. Aria only kept robes out of her trunk, which were Summoned and stowed away in short time.

Along with...

Snape's eyes fell on a shelf above the bed that Aria occupied. There, sitting in a neat row, were all the rabbits that Snape had ever given to his daughter...

"You kept them?" Snape turned to his only child. "But I told you to throw them away when you ran out of Floo powder..."

Aria was putting the rabbits away in her trunk one by one.

"I like them," she told her father, running a finger along the bunny's muzzle. "They have very kind eyes. I couldn't bear to toss them out..."

Feeling oddly sentimental at this revelation, Snape turned away and looked about the room. He had transfigured those bunnies out of match-boxes... His eyes caught sight of an adjacent room.

"Do you have anything left in there?" Snape was left alone in the room, while Aria went to check. The last bunny looked mournfully up at him, and Snape put him inside Aria's school trunk.

Aria came back holding her tooth brush and a toilet bag. These items ended up in the trunk as well.

"Anything else?" he asked his daughter.

"No," Aria replied, looking around the room once more.

Trunk spelled shut and shrunk, Snape put it in the folds of his robes as, together, they made their way out of the school.

And, even though it was not completely necessary (simple hand holding was enough for Contact Apparition), Snape leaned down and picked Aria up in his arms. Her hands, in turn, went around Snape's neck, holding tightly, as though in fear that something stronger than Apparition could tear them apart...

Because they were going home at last.

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When they were home, Snape came upstairs to check on Harry and got the surprise of his life.

"Why haven't you taken the Reversing Potion?" Snape asked. "I left it for you on the night-table..."

"It broke," Harry hedged. "I tried to Repair it, but managed to fix only the vial. The reversing potion did not go back into the vial, though..."

Of course it didn't go in! A different spell entirely was needed for that – a Charm for liquids.

That didn't explain why Potter was so clearly uncomfortable. Why, he almost looked guilty!

But because Snape couldn't understand what Potter could have done to feel guilty about, he decided to let it go for now.

In his laboratory, he ladled another portion into the vial and gave it to Potter to take.

He would have personally made sure that no accidents happened, this time around, but at this moment he heard a Floo call, and went upstairs to answer it.

It was late afternoon, and he had a pretty good idea who was on the other end, demanding a conference...

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If he were honest, Snape would conclude that he almost missed Alison's appearance as she came through the Floo, eyes spitting flames of anger at Snape.

A notice fell to the floor at Snape's feet. It must've been the school owl the director told him about...

"How dare you, Severus!" Alison hissed out her fury at him, like a snake charging to attack. "I've spent a lot of effort making sure Josephine is accepted at that school..."

Snape couldn't give a dead kniezel's arse for any efforts that involved the school. Doubly, if they came from the likes of her...

"The Director assured me that you will get your monetary refund at the end of the month," he told his ex-wife. He never remembered being so calm in all their previous conversations.

"I realise that it will only be a percentage of the fees you have paid, darling," Snape sneered, turning the endearment into an insult. "And, as I know how much you care for your galleons, I am willing to reimburse you for the full tuition that you have paid to the school."

Alison laughed at that. "With what money, Darling?" Oh, she could give as good as she got. The word spat from her mouth as though it were volcano erupt. "You've probably hexed some poor old witch out of her galleons..."

Snape was infinitely thankful that she did not know him as well as she had concluded.

"You won't get what you came here for this time," Snape told the witch, eyes narrowing into deadly certainty. "I suggest you leave."

"If I leave without her, you can be sure I am going straight to the Aurors!" she screeched. "They will finally know that Severus Snape is alive and you won't see the light of day for a long, long time!"

"And how will you prove your ridiculous claim, darling?" Snape countered. "If you remember, I have ample witnesses to the opposite. The Dark Lord's favourite pet killed the faithless traitor Snape all these seven years ago..."

"You fool!" She laughed. "I have your magical signature when you came and took Josephine out of school! That's all the evidence the Aurors need!"

Ah. So she didn't know that was empty-handed. Snape smirked, wondering if he should tell her that there is no magical signature. Wonderful how wandless magic didn't leave a trace and all that...

But Snape never revealed his secrets.

An idea suddenly came to him.

Accio Snape's Order of Merlin! he Summoned it voicelessly, as a velvet box came sailing into the room. He twitched his wand until it fell into Alison's uncomprehending grasp.

"Open it, dear," Snape suggested, voice soft as cat's fur.

"Do you really believe," Snape went on when Alison complied and her eyes widened in surprise at the contents she saw there, "that the Ministry will allow a recipient of one of these priceless (he really was bending the line here, but he continued) awards to spend the rest of their days rotting in Azkaban?"

He wasn't going to clarify that he could very well end up in the damned place. Perhaps he could bluff his way out of this, and it would never occur to her to test his words. Wonderful, rare things, Orders of Merlin. Very few magicalfolk would go against the physical evidence of one...

And the fact that Alison wouldn't be able to prove that he was viable. Ancient magic rites were wonderfully adept at going around Ministry guidelines. Probably the reason the Ministry was so dead-set to outlaw them...

"My name is clear before the Ministry for Magic, dear," Snape went on. "You can, of course, fulfill your long-standing promise and let them know that Severus Snape is alive. I assure you, however, that their response will not be what you are presently imagining." He put all of his will towards believing that there was at least an ounce of truth in his words. He needed to convince his audience after all...

Alison had gone very pale at Snape's words. Looking for something, anything, to throw at her ex-husband, she remained silent, finding nothing and glaring death at the man who ruined her life.

A voice was coming from the vicinity of the kitchen.

"Da, what's taking you so long? I thought we were going riding..."

Aria stood in the entrance between the kitchen and sitting room, voice trailing off as she caught sight of her mother.

"Josephine! Come here! We're going home!" she ordered her daughter, but Aria made no move to go to her mother.

Furious, Alison gesticulated with her wand.

"Imperio!" the spell left her wand and headed straight for Aria, hitting her in the chest.

"I said, We're Going Home! Get over here, Josephine!" Alison commanded.

Snape hadn't expected that.

Aria stared at her mother.

"I am not going back to that school, mum," she said, not moving a single step towards Alison.

Snape took advantage of Alison's distraction.

"Expelliarmus!" he cast and her wand flew into Snape's hand.

"That is low, even for you," Snape said softly, voice like steel.

"Before, I would have allowed you to walk out of our lives," Snape continued, voice whisper quiet, the words final. "But now you will not get off so easy, my dearest." The word, said in his present tone of voice, was a mockery of the endearment.

Snape opened the Floo network behind Alison with a wave of his wand.

"But now I believe I shall give you a long-standing reminder of just whom you are dealing with..."

"Know that henceforth from this moment on, You will neither see, hear, touch, or otherwise interact with Aria. Until she is of age, when she will be able to, of her own free will, remove the curse I place upon you now. Our union was a mistake, but I will not allow you to take your displeasure out on my daughter. My most fervent wishes that your next union will be everything you deserve."

Aria disappeared from Alison's line of vision as a wind suddenly picked up and sent Alison flying through the opened Floo network behind her, the Order of Merlin falling to the floor where she used to stand.

Disgusted, Snape threw Alison's wand into the Floo after Alison, a second after it closed and he and Aria were left to contemplate the matter of what had just occurred in the sudden silence and gloom of the setting evening, nothing but hearth flames serving as a distraction.

Weary, Snape sat down before the fireplace.

Aria sat down next to him silently.

"If you wish, you are welcome to go home to your mother," he finally offered, looking down at his hands. "I lied to her about the nature of the spell I used..."

Aria placed her hand on her father's, looking into his eyes.

Black eyes met black.

"But not to you," Snape whispered. "I could never lie to you..."

"I know, Da," Aria whispered and climbed into Snape's lap.

Her head rested on Snape's shoulder as she played with her father's hand, putting their palms against each other's.

"I want to stay with you."

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Snape got another surprise when he came upstairs for bed.

"Why haven't you taken the potion?" Snape inquired, looking at Harry's unrepentantly female form.

"I did," Harry replied. "It didn't work."

"What do you mean, it didn't work?" Snape asked. "I took the same potion, and it reversed the transformation just fine. And rather quickly, I might add."

"I'm not lying, Snape," Harry repeated. "It didn't work."

Snape didn't believe him, so they went downstairs to his laboratory where he personally ladled a portion of the antidote into a vial and bid Harry to drink.

Harry obediently drank.

Nothing happened.

No transformation was forthcoming.

All he could think of was that something was blocking the transformation. Either it was a personal intolerance to the ingredients, which would have manifested in illness symptoms.

"Have you been feeling under the weather today?" Snape asked Harry. "Perhaps after taking the antidote earlier, today..."

"No," Harry denied, with a shake of his head.

That did leave one other alternative.

But surely it would require having sex more than the one time...

Snape did the spell anyway, to check.

"Well," he began, oddly subdued, "I have good news and bad news. With which shall I start?"

Harry, ever the optimist, asked for the good news first.

"The good news is that nothing is wrong with the potions. You will, in fact, be able to take it and transform back. After nine months."

"Nine months?" Harry's brow furrowed. "Why nine mon..." He grew quiet as his eyes widened, a hand closing over his mouth in disbelief.

Snape looked at Harry, considering.

"Or I can give you a special blend of poisons that will destroy the conceptus within your womb and you will be able to take the reversal potion... Now."

Harry just looked at Snape.

"Is it yours?" he asked Snape. "Yours and mine?" he clarified, as though it were the most important thing in the world.

"It is."

"Then I am keeping it."

Snape nodded, somehow not surprised. He wondered if he would have given birth to Potter's child, if the situations were reversed.

"We've always planned to have a large family. Although this is unexpected, and a bit faster than we planned..." Harry revealed.

Yes, Snape concluded. He most definitely would.

EPILOGUE

Harry's child was a boy, a small, bald-headed mite, ugly as a hairless monkey and absurdly like Snape (except for Harry's green eyes). No one except Harry could see anything beautiful about the infant, but everyone was generous enough to say that all ugly babies grew up to be pretty. Eventually.

The boy was named Albus Severus.

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