Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction and am making no profit through the writing of this.

A/N: Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Assignment #1, Potions Task 3 - Unicorn Horn: Write about a child losing their innocence. AU, Harry is the son of James and Severus through a surrogacy.

The sobbing had ceased, finally, but Harry was still sniffling and rubbing his cheek against Severus' black robes, taking comfort in the silky feel of them. Something that he'd done since he was a baby, much to James' amusement and Severus' chagrin. He worried now, though, that Harry's innocence, something that he guarded with everything in him, was beyond repair in this most recent childhood tragedy.

It was, from an adult's perspective, something small, but from a child like Harry's point of view, it was the end of the world and there was nothing that Severus, short of 'reviving the dead' (in a manner of speaking), could do to fix it.

It had been James' idea to have a child. Severus hadn't thought it prudent, given Lord Voldemort's machinations and threats, and Severus' role as a spy, not to mention his own less than enviable childhood. He'd told James as much, and told him that he'd leave the fathering to James. Lily had agreed to act as surrogate for them.

The war was over now, had been for three years. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own Avada Kedavra, which had been aimed at the then two year old Harry. In a strange, fitting, twist of fate, the killing curse had ricocheted off the emerald amulet that Lily had given Harry for his second birthday.

The only thing Harry suffered that night was a burn where the curse had struck the emerald, cracking it, before rebounding on its caster. Harry still bore the jagged, heart-shaped burn mark on his chest, and insisted upon wearing the amulet at all times, fearful that if he took it off something bad would happen. Harry still had nightmares, and Severus hated that his son's innocence had been tainted by a megalomaniac who sought to kill him. He hated that Harry faced yet another incident which threatened what remained of his innocence.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Severus said, rocking the distressed five-year-old and pressing a kiss to the top of the unruly raven locks. They were so much like James'.

"I -" Harry hiccoughed and clutched a fistful of Severus' robes, a fresh tear rolling down his reddened cheek. "I miss Mr. Snivels."

"I know you do, son," Severus said, running his fingers through Harry's hair, massaging the little boy's scalp, smiling when Harry sighed and melted against him, clutching at Severus' robes.

"He was my best friend," Harry said, eyes greener with the tears shimmering in them, chin quivering.

"I know he was," Severus said, wanting to put Harry's childhood in stasis, keep his son from hurting. "He's still with you, you know."

"He is?" Harry looked up at Severus, a glint of hope gleaming in his eyes.

Severus nodded and smiled down at his son, grateful that James had insisted on having a child that they could raise together, and that he was unable to deny James anything that he truly wanted. It may have been foolhardy at the time, but Severus is glad that they have Harry.

Truth was, until Harry had been born, Severus hadn't really understood what love was. Of course he loved James (a love that had first manifested as childhood rivalry that they'd thankfully grown out of), but little Harry, with his shock of dark hair, tiny fists pawing at the air, lips pursed in a small bow, had stolen his heart at first sight.

"He's right here," Severus said, tapping Harry's chest, hoping to stopper up some of his childhood innocence before it could completely escape.

Harry frowned, brows furrowing in confusion as he looked at where Severus' fingers were resting above his heart, as though he expected his beloved friend to appear right there. When Mr. Snivels made no such appearance, he turned that gaze upon Severus and Severus' heart hurt for his son.

"He'll always be with you," Severus explained. "In your heart."

"In my heart?" Harry asked, frowning deeply, reminding Severus of the look that James got when he was puzzling out a problem that he carried home with him from work. On James, it was worrying, on Harry, it was rather adorable (not that Severus would utter that thought aloud to anyone, other than perhaps James).

"Yes, Harry," Severus said, tapping Harry's chest once more, letting his fingers rest where he could feel his son's heartbeat. "The heart is where we carry the ones we love."

Harry placed his hand on top of Severus', a small smile forming on his lips after a few moments. "I can feel him," he whispered in awe.

"You can?" Severus asked, curious.

Harry nodded, a smile lighting up his face. "He's knocking," Harry said. "Feel it?"

Overwhelmed with the thought that Harry's innocence, though tainted by Voldemort's actions and shaken by the tragic 'death' (at the jaws of a stray mutt) of his favorite stuffed toy, gifted to him from Sirius Black, hadn't been completely destroyed, Severus could only nod as he felt the thump of Harry's heartbeat, which was, indeed, very much like a knock, against the tips of his fingers.