A/N: Sorry it takes me so long to write. I haven't been feeling like writing for a while. But we'll see how it goes. Short chapter. Sorry.

Bath time was spent teaching the child how to brush his teeth and change into pajamas. Severus realized that he didn't buy a clothes hamper so added that to his owl-order list. There was always something to add.

Bed time started simply enough, several servings of potions quietly drunk, one of which Severus knew made people drowsy. The boy fought it valiantly, but the half-lidded eyes and unsteady sway as he stood next to his bed, still clutching the bear, gave away his exhaustion. Severus knew that a large part of that exhaustion was due to the events of the day. He was also looking forward to crashing onto his own bed, the sweet oblivion of sleep beckoning him already.

There was a slight hesitance when Severus had him actually get into bed. Considering the boy's former sleeping arrangements, he knew there was a certain level of disbelief when it came to accepting everything. So far, the lad had simply let Severus dictate everything and accepted everything without complaint. Now, Severus could see it was all catching up to him.

When the boy finally crawled into bed, he simply sat in the middle of it, obviously unsure whether he was allowed under the covers or even next to the pillows. If Severus weren't so tired, he'd probably be cheering at the boy finally showing something other than passive acceptance. As it was, he simply gestured for the child to scoot up to the head of the bed, and took it upon himself to cover him with the blanket. He wasn't tucking the child in. The boy just needed to understand. It wasn't like he would be doing this again.

Since the child refused to let go of the teddy bear, Severus was forced to put the blanket around it as well. And he was simply making sure that the blanket covered them both without slipping off during the night. Which is what he told himself as he adjusted the covers around both figures.

Eyes just as bright as they'd been all morning but mostly hidden under rapidly sinking lids, watched as Severus adjusted the blanket and then stood up. He surveyed his handiwork, the comforter tucked under the child's – and the bear's – chin, the tiny frame outlined showing just how small he was compared to the mattress. He sighed, then, dragging the desk chair over to the side of the bed, sat down on it.

His voice took on a softness that he hadn't shown that day. Like a distant rolling thunder that soothed instead of startled.

"I know that today has been long and you have many questions that you aren't asking." He began, his own eyelids beginning to droop. "This will probably all seem like a very strange dream for a while until you get used to it." He paused. The boy continued to watch him silently.

"I just want you to know that you are safe here. This is my home, and as long as I am able, no one will harm you while you are here, physically or otherwise. You probably don't believe me yet," He added when the only response he got was a slow blink. "But I give you my word. And that is not something I give lightly." He waited for a few moments but received no response. Sighing again, he got up with a soft groan, and put the chair back at the desk.

At the doorway, he turned off the overhead light, the night light turning on automatically. Severus hadn't been sure whether the boy needed one or not, but decided to err on the safe side since the child didn't seem to understand when he'd asked him about it in the store.

"Good-night. Harry."

Boy was confused. And tired. But a different tired than he normally was. Usually, he was tired because of all the chores he'd had to do with little to no food and no breaks. He was used to that kind of tired. So used to it, in fact, that he really didn't notice it anymore.

Now, he was a different kind of tired. Physically, he felt energized. He felt like he could run all night, and do all his normal chores without even stopping to catch his breath. But he was still tired. It was an odd juxtaposition of feelings.

He tried to contemplate the day he'd had so far. It had started normally enough, waking up in his cupboard, making Them breakfast, starting on his chores while They ate. He'd been washing the breakfast dishes when that fateful doorbell rang. He hadn't thought much of it when he went to his cupboard.

When the door to his cupboard had inexplicably opened, Boy had felt his heart stop. Then he'd had a strange interaction with the Man, before deciding to exit his cupboard. He still wasn't sure why he'd done that. He knew the Rules. But something about the Man had convinced him. For some reason, he trusted him. Probably.

Then the Man had offered to take him away. Boy's first reaction had been one of disbelief and confusion. Then Something had whispered to him. That Something that Boy had learned to trust more than anything. It was that Something that had whispered to him before, not with a voice he could hear with his ears but with a knowledge in his mind that he was being spoken to. It had whispered of safety. Of peace. Of food and warmth. Of the Man.

So he agreed.

According to the Man, he was a wizard, which Boy was inclined to believe, considering all that he'd seen him do. Clothes and shoes instantly appearing, going from one place to another in the blink of an eye. Not to mention that whole shopping trip Boy had been taken on.

From the moment that coat and those shoes had appeared on Boy, he'd been in a stupefied state, not really taking in anything, just letting it wash over him. Magic. Food. Clothes. A Bubble Bath. Toys. A Room. More food than Boy could eat. Magic medicine that washed away scars like the soap had washed away grime. Magic nasty-tasting potions that made him feel full, or energized, or pain free. A giant stuffed bear he'd been allowed to hold. A soft bed that felt like he was on a cloud. Large hands with long fingers washing him, clothing him, giving him food, holding his hand, tucking him in.

Now, as Boy lay on this Cloud-bed, he tried to ponder the strange thing that the Man – that Severus Snape had said. It sounded like a name.

Hairy.

Boy felt like Professor Snape was calling Boy Hairy. Maybe it was a nickname. Instead of 'Boy' as he was usually called – or freak, or you, or brat – or even the other names that Professor Snape had been calling him that day, softer names, like 'little one' or 'child'. Maybe it was a new nickname, one that pointed out his own hair-less state.

While normally, Boy would feel like it was another mocking name, this one had been said softly, tenderly. Almost – dare he say it – lovingly.

Not sure exactly how to define it and feeling that the warm squishy, wriggly feeling was too complicated to ponder on, he closed his eyes and was asleep almost instantly.

Severus wanted nothing more than to sink into his bed and fall asleep for the next several hours. Which is why he was now in his lab (which was also his study) sitting at the desk and contemplating exactly how he was supposed to report back to Dumbledore.

He should probably just tell Albus everything. There was no real reason to hide it. He hadn't done anything wrong. On the contrary, he thought his actions to not only be just, but necessary. Dumbledore would probably praise him for his decision to act immediately. Before he took Harry and gave him to a foster family.

That was what he wanted, right? He was busy, even during break. He constantly had people send requests for potions that they couldn't or wouldn't get elsewhere. It was practically a whole business that Severus had been doing since before he'd even obtained his potions mastery. He was busy!

And really, what did he know about raising a child. Sure, he was a teacher, had been one for many years now. He was even the head of Slytherin House, acting in loco parentis for almost a hundred students every year. But that was different. Not to mention, in Harry's case, the boy was sure to have multiple traumas to overcome, ones that needed a firm but loving hand. Firm, he could do. Loving…

And even if he'd gone and bought all those things for the boy, didn't mean he couldn't just send them with him when he went to wherever he went. Probably someplace with two loving parents, probably a dog, plenty of money and love and such sickening sweetness, Severus was in danger of cavities just thinking about it.

Not to mention that the boy would undoubtedly want to leave as quickly as possible. No child, no adult, liked to spend prolonged time with Severus Snape. Severus liked his privacy and his peace and encouraged the healthy berth people gave him. He purposefully kept his hair greasy and long, his face in a perpetual scowl, his clothes dark and drab. He avoided excess amounts of sun to keep up the pale, sallow complexion. People liked spending time with pretty people. They avoided people like Severus which was just what he preferred. He'd actually invented a potion that would clean his hair while still appearing greasy. Appearances were important.

Although, if he wanted to encourage the boy to develop proper hygiene habits as well as get plenty of sun, he'd have to sort of lead by example. The boy was obviously taking his dressing cues from how Severus himself wore his clothing. And it wasn't like he could just send the child outside without keeping an eye on him. This neighborhood was not known for being child-friendly, to say the least. And that's not even counting the magical threats that the boy-who-lived would face.

Yes, it was safer, not to mention healthier for Harry, to just be placed in some other home. Someplace that was an actual home.

Severus continued to sit and contemplate all the many reasons why Harry Potter would and should be moved as far away from him as possible. He had a great long mental list by the time he realized he should report back to the headmaster in some way.

Not wanting to disturb Dumbledore, since it was already after 9 at night, he decided to pen his report. That way the old man would have irrefutable proof that he'd done his duty.

Setting down his self-inking quill, Severus reread his letter.

Headmaster,

I have done as you requested and checked up on the boy.

All is well.

I'll be busy for the rest of the summer. Don't bother me unless the Dark Lord himself comes back.

S. Snape

Ignoring the blatant fact that Severus failed to mention anything about the boy now residing in his spare room upstairs, he folded the parchment, sealed it, and sent it away through the night by way of his pet owl that slept outside in a tree.

Severus watched the dark form disappear in the darkness of the night sky, listening to the vague sounds of Spinner's End at night, gazing at the few stars that managed to force their way through the light pollution and smog.

The night was warm, despite the sun's absence. For a moment, he allowed his mind to slip into the comforting blankness he typically used for Occlumency. He felt slightly detached from his body, from the night, from everything. He wrapped himself in the velvety emptiness like a blanket. He was no one. Nothing. Just was.

The distant sounds of shouting, some kind of domestic dispute, punctured his peace, and with a sigh, he drew himself together and walked back inside, locking the door with bolts and magic.

Probably only a few hours, but it felt like just a few minutes, when Severus was wakened. He was a light sleeper naturally, but years as a double spy honed that particular skill till he sometimes had to magically silence and seal his quarters to get any sleep. Tonight, with the addition of a new …guest, Severus opted to forego magic and even left his door open.

He blinked up at the darkened ceiling, instantly wide-awake. He strained his ears to hear whatever it was that woke him up, his fingers tight around his wand that he had no conscious memory of grabbing.

He heard slight noises. Faint and indistinct. He gave a soft sigh and got up, slipping his bare feet into his warm and worn slippers. Even on the warmest of nights, the floors of his house somehow retained a constant chill. He grabbed his night robe as he left the room, tucking his wand into the pocket.

The boy's – Harry he berated himself. Call him by his name, darn you – door was open, as he'd left it. He heard faint noises coming from the room. He looked in and saw by the soft glow of the nightlight, what was causing the noise.

The child – Harry – had moved sometime during the night, probably recently. He was no longer on the bed. Instead, he and the bear were both in the corner of the room, squeezed into the space between the side of the wardrobe and the wall, with a pillow and the top blanket.

The b – Harry had been adjusting the bedding until Severus stuck his head in. Now he froze, his eyes wide and glinted in the soft light, almost like a cat's, staring up at Severus.

Severus blinked a few times, wondering at the – at Harry's change in bedding. It took a moment before he made the connection. Harry spent probably his whole life at the Dursley's in a cupboard. A very small cupboard. With four walls and a low roof, just big enough for him to curl up in.

He took the liberty of stepping into the room and approaching th- Harry slowly, noting and ignoring the tensing of his muscles. He stopped a few feet away and then lowered himself to the ground, leaning up against the wall. He propped his knees up, resting his arms on them, more to show Harry that he wasn't going to touch him.

"Were you having trouble sleeping on the bed?" He asked, his voice a little rougher than he would have liked but still low and soft. "It's okay to tell me if you were." He added when the boy hesitated.

Jerkily, Harry nodded his head once, then cowered back into the wall, clutching the bear protectively.

"I see." Severus nodded thoughtfully, then leaned his head back against the wall and sighted. He was pretty sure pulling teeth was actually easier than getting answers from Harry. Or words at all.

Not looking at the still obviously terrified boy, he asked, "Is it because it's so big or too soft? Or a bit of both?" His eyes were closed and he kept himself relaxed to present as non-threatening an image as possible. He didn't think the bed was too soft, personally. To him, it had felt too hard, stiff from disuse. It didn't help that Severus hadn't been looking for a soft mattress when he'd bought it, going for price instead of quality.

There was a long pause before the boy whispered, "Big." He nodded, still keeping his eyes closed and his body relaxed. Good, he thought. That was a much easier fix than changing the softness of the bed.

"I could probably fix that for you, you know. So you don't have to sleep on the floor." He kept his tone soft and neutral. "Would that be okay?" He asked, looking over at Harry. The boy was still staring at him, his green eyes peeking over the fuzzy head of the bear.

He saw the nod and gave one in return. Not feeling particularly inclined to get up – he was tired – he opted to pull out his wand from his position on the floor and point it at the bed. Four bed posts rose a few feet above the top of the bed. He would have made them taller but thought that that was about the height of the cupboard, if he remembered right. Bars stretched between them, like some kind of tree on magical miracle-grow fertilizer, connecting the posts. With a movement, dark blue cloth appeared stretched across the top, giving the bed its own ceiling. This was followed by more material draping down all four sides, metal rings attaching them to the bars.

The end product was not dissimilar to the types of beds at Hogwarts, although probably shorter. The material was thick enough to act as a barrier but thin enough to provide proper airflow. Wouldn't do to have the child overheat at night.

He tucked the wand away with a satisfied nod before turning back to Harry. The eyes were even wider and had a sparkle in them that Severus noticed whenever he did magic in front of the boy.

"Is that better?" Harry gave a brief nod, glancing between the bed and the older wizard. "Well then, let us try it and see if it works. If not, we'll figure something else out." He motioned for the child to rise first before following suit, albeit much slower and with decidingly more creaking and groaning. Really now. He wasn't even 30! What was that phrase he once heard? 'It wasn't the year, but the mileage'?

He gathered the pillows and blanket that Harry had been using to make a nest, letting Harry carry only his stuffed bear. He did have to direct the boy to climb up and then helped him re-situate the pillows and blanket. Standing up straight from leaning under the canopy, Severus took a moment to contemplate anything else that might trouble the boy tonight. His overtired mind couldn't think of anything so he mentally shrugged and figured that he'd take on whatever challenge arose as it did.

"I'm going to leave the curtains open but if you want to close them at any time, feel free to do so." He received a wide-eyed stare in return. Mentally he sighed. One of these days he thought. One of these days, he will feel comfortable enough to speak without prompting. I'll be sure to celebrate it.

"Good-night Harry. Come get me if you need anything else."

He returned to bed, but once more left the door open. He waited for only a few minutes before he heard the faint sound of the curtain being drawn.

Smiling, he closed his eyes, his last thought of the night a satisfied, progress.