31 July 1992. It was his birthday and he was twelve years old. Hagrid had brought him a cake last year, his first-ever birthday cake, but he had no delusions that the dour wizard sitting across from him now would think of that. Harry didn't expect anything for his birthday, after all this was Snape, he might not have been so bad as they thought but he still wasn't a very easy person. It was good enough that the Potions Professor had agreed to take him in when he asked Headmaster Dumbledore if he couldn't stay over in school for the summer. He had thought he could help Hagrid out or maybe Mr. Filch if Hagrid didn't have enough work, instead, the Headmaster had sent him home with Snape.

Ron and Hermione had promised him treats and he had that to look forward to. Only they hadn't sent him anything yet and the school had been closed for a long time. A month. Surely they were not so busy that they couldn't just send him a small note? He eyed Snape. Would he have kept Harry's mail from him? Ron would say yes. Hermione would not say yes but she'd definitely think it, after all, she had set fire to his robe with no hesitation.

Snape sighed and set his fork and knife down before looking at Harry. "Do you have anything to say, Potter?"

"No, sir."

"Then what is it with the face? You've barely touched your food. Are you constipated?"

That was the last thing he thought the wizard would say and he choked on a shocked giggle. "No, sir!"

"Then eat. I do not intend to spend the day at breakfast."

"Yes, sir." Harry lowered his head over his plate and shoveled the scrambled egg into his mouth, chewing furiously and thinking hard.

No, Snape would not be holding his letters from him, he was sure. Harry was eating breakfast that he hadn't made but he would be expected to help with the dishes. Help, not do all. He was also expected to keep his room tidy and once a week on Sundays they did chores together.

Even that was not the issue it would have been at the Dursleys for Snape had taught him housekeeping charms. They were not easy to learn but it was a whole lot better than scrubbing grout with a toothbrush. The scouring spell might scour the polish right off the floor if he overpowered it, the dusting spell might just sweep everything into the air if you did not direct it out of the window, and scrubbing the tub Harry had nearly caused the next big soap suds incident since the Soap Blizzard of 1378. Twice. Snape hadn't shouted either time, though Harry did hear him mutter something about dunderheads under his breath when he cleared the last up.

Snape did not give him too many chores, no, but he did give him more school work than necessary. Harry was already done with his summer homework and working through next year's books under the tutelage of the Potions Professor, Hermione would be green if she knew. Even so, it was just two hours a day, and he was free to do as he pleased with his afternoons. They even had a small telly. Life felt possibly idyllic. So, no, he did not think Snape would keep his letters from him but something was surely wrong.

"I have not forgotten your birthday if that's what your face is about," Snape said unexpectedly when the last plate was dried and packed away.

"No, sir!"

'Yes, sir, no sir, you are very talkative today," said Snape with a curled lip. "Well, at least you are polite." He slipped his wand out of his sleeve, Harry couldn't wait to tell Ron that he dressed the same at home as in school, and waved it in the direction of the living room. A small package covered in brown paper and twine floated into the kitchen.

"I cannot help you if I do not know what is wrong," Snape said and pinned Harry down with his dark gaze, making him squirm. When Harry said nothing he sighed and floated the package over to him. "Happy Birthday, Potter, may you have many more delightful days like this one. You may open it in your room. There will be no school work today and you are to present yourself downstairs at twelve, washed and dressed."

"Thank you, sir." Harry picked the square package out of the air; it fitted neatly in his hand. He would have liked to open it immediately but Snape really did not seem to want that so he clutched it to his chest. What could the man have given him? He looked like the sort to give a book but this was much too small. It reminded him of a jewelry box and he wondered inanely if the man had bought him a ring. Another hysterical giggle bubbled up in his throat and he bit his cheek, concentrating on the rest of what the wizard had said.

Washed and dressed? He already was. Snape did not hold with walking around in pajamas during the day even though you wouldn't be going anywhere, and Harry was already dressed. Decently too, since it had taken his Potions Professor a week before he couldn't look at Dudley's castoffs anymore and he had taken Harry shopping. He was wearing jeans and a sweater that both fit and looked as if it was bought with him in mind. "Do I… should I wear my school uniform?"

"Whatever for?"

"You said—"

"What I meant was for you to present yourself in clean clothes, Potter. That is all. Now be off with you, unless you want to tell me what is bothering you."

"No, sir."

"Cat swallowed your tongue then."

Harry did not know if he should answer that one. He got a narrow-eyed look and scarpered after another thank you for the gift. He did not have a problem talking to Snape, they already weathered that by the second week and he was used to the wizard's acerbic conversation by now. He did not know why he felt unable to talk today. Well, that's a lie, he did. He should be used to being ignored on his birthdays, but every time he opened his mouth his throat clogged with tears.

He took the cramped stairs that by now looked more cozy than dilapidated to him by twos, and barely closed his bedroom door before he ripped the wrapping paper off the gift. When he reached the box he hesitated. It did indeed look like Aunt Petunia's ostentatious jewelry boxes, the small container covered in a red velvety material. This time he didn't suppress his giggle. It was too large for a ring but he could imagine a watch might fit in it and he could just see Ron's face if Harry came back to school wearing a watch the 'greasy bat' had given him. He was going to have to get Ron to stop calling the Professor that. He wanted to be able to come here next summer also and didn't want to ruin his chances in any way.

Taking a deep breath he opened it and something gold fluttered out. He caught it before it could escape and stared. Snape had given him a snitch. Ron was going to go spare! Harry opened his hand and the snitch took off like a shot but he caught it again lightning fast then went to close his windows, making sure to shut them tight, before letting it go again. Watching the little golden ball fly overhead, he stood in awe. This was the best birthday gift ever.

Harry felt good and then he felt bad. He lay on the bed watching the snitch flutter this way and that around his room. His room, not his cupboard or Dudley's toy room. It was a simple bedroom, the furniture consisted of a bed and a dresser, a desk with his school stuff scattered all over, a small bookcase that held his own and the few books Snape had let him borrow from downstairs. The curtains, rug, and bedspread were all new and a deep blue, he thought it all must have been brought specifically with a teenage boy in mind and liked it. He had a lot of new things and yet, seeing the snitch fly overhead he wished he could share it with Ron or Hermione. Dudders would be in and out of the house with his friends, something Harry was jealous of and it looked like he would have to be jealous still for his own friends had forgotten him as soon as school was done. He missed Hedwig also, not knowing what awaited him at Snape's he had left Hedwig in the school, something he deeply regretted today. The Snowy Owl had turned out to be a comfort when things became too difficult for him, she would sit for hours and listen patiently when Harry visited her in the owlery.

He slowly became aware of two bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls staring at him. "Argh!"

"Harry Potter!" The creature bowed low, his long thin nose touching the blue rug. "So long Dobby has looked forward to meeting you, Harry Potter, sir!" he exclaimed in a shrill voice. "Oh to meet the great Harry Potter, sir, it's an honour!"

"I'm not great…" the small creature did not look dangerous, just very strange. He had big floppy ears, a very large wrinkled head, and was dressed in what looked to be an old ripped pillowcase. "What… who are you?"

"I'm Dobby, great sir. I'm just a house-elf, I've come to warn you, awful men are trying to kill Harry Potter, sir! It's dangerous—"

"They—he already tried but he failed, nothing happened." Quirrell's burnt face flashed in front of Harry's eyes. "Nothing happened, it's all over."

"Dobby heard tell that Harry Potter had escaped the Dark Lord a second time..?"

It seemed to be a question so Harry nodded his head, he wasn't going to talk about that. He didn't like to think of that day at all. "It's all over."

"Harry Potter sir is wrong!" Dobby exclaimed, tears filling his big eyes. Then started pulling his ears, moaning about how much trouble he would be in if his master found out he came to warn Harry. But he must because Harry was the greatest wizard that ever lived. To Harry's shock he hit his head repeatedly against the bedpost.

The elf started babbling. Most of it about Harry's supposed greatness but when he said he had come to warn Harry not to go back to school, asking him to promise to stay away, that even the great Dumbledore would not be able to save him, Harry forgot his embarrassment at all the fawning and stopped him.

"Hang on, of course I am going back to school, I'm a wizard!"

"Harry Potter is a great wizard, surely he has no need to study anymore!"

"I'm not great, I'm ordinary. A lot of the kids do much better than me, I definitely need to go to school." He didn't want to think of Hermione and Ron, it hurt that they've been ignoring him, but still. "I'm looking forward to studying and I need to see my friends—"

The creature's face suddenly turned wily. "Your friends who've been ignoring you all this time?"

What?

"Friends who didn't even write to Harry Potter, sir?"

"What? How do you know they didn't write?"

"Harry Potter mustn't be angry at Dobby, sir. Dobby did what he thought best…"

The creature looked too sly but when Harry jumped off his bed, he hurriedly backed away, his ears flopping down.

"Have you been stopping my letters?!"

"Dobby's sorry, sir!" He pulled a messy packet of letters from his pillowcase and Harry could see Hermione and Ron's scribbles on the wrinkled envelopes. "Dobby knew if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him he wouldn't want to return!"

"Of course I would! Those are my letters! Give them to me!"

"I'm sorry, Harry Potter, sir! I cannot!" He stuck them back into his pillowcase and jumped out of reach. "Dobby has heard of Master Snape's badness, and if Harry Potter cannot promise to stay away from school Dobby will make Master Snape expel him!" With that, the little elf turned around, took Harry's Transfiguration homework, and tore the scroll in half. "If Master Snape thinks Harry Potter is a bad boy he will not let Harry Potter sir go back to school!" he shrieked and started tearing up the rest of Harry's work.

"Stop that! It took me forever to do!"

What followed was the second most horrible thing Harry had ever witnessed. The elf flitted this way and that through the room, tearing up books, throwing drawers and clothes everywhere, and even ripped the curtains! Snape would never believe him that a little elf came and did all this! He couldn't think it would get him expelled but the thought that he wasn't going to let Harry come back next summer once he saw the trashed room, and that he might even kick him out to the streets today, was suddenly worse than not being allowed to go to school. He rushed to stop the elf but Dobby was too fast and flickered out of his grasp each time he tried to grab him. Then the elf jumped for the snitch.

"No!" Harry launched himself at Dobby. "Not my gift!"

A sharp knock on the door announced Snape's entrance just as he grabbed hold of the house-elf, and they stumbled against the bookcase.

"What on earth is this fuss, Potter!" Snape barked, sounding ready to give detention and Harry stopped struggling with Dobby but held on to the bony body, his fear that Dobby would break the snitch at that moment higher than his fear for the strict wizard. Oh God, Snape was never going to believe him! Snape already had his wand in his hand, "Stand aside, Potter!" he ordered and cast at them.

Harry did not know what he expected. For one very scary moment he thought that Snape was trying to hex him and that he was the danger Dobby had warned about. His knees turned to helpless jelly at the horrible thought but it was Dobby that stiffened in his arms, the house-elf went rigid when the red spell hit him, then toppled over like a felled tree. There was something wrong with Harry's hands, tough, his fingers felt wooden and he couldn't move them. Snape must have seen because he ignored Dobby to pick up Harry's left hand from his side.

"Your reactions were slow," his Potions Professor said, touching his hand with his wand. Yellow sparks sizzled into Harry's fingers, vibrating into the very bones, releasing the stiff joints. The magic was repeated on his other hand to the same effect. "Next time jump aside when I say."

"Sorry, sir."

"Do not go mute on me again, Potter. What happened here, who's this?"

There were more important questions first, he was not evading anything. "What was that spell, sir? And the one you did on my hands! Did you kill him?!"

It was extremely frustrating that Snape's spells were nonverbal. Harry had not known it was possible as all the teachers in school enunciated the spells as clearly as they taught the students to do. The first time he had seen Snape cast without saying a word he had thought the wizard must be better than Merlin himself. Snape had told him in the driest tone that he was extremely flattered at the thought but all wizards from the sixth year on could do nonverbal spells and the teachers didn't in school so that the students wouldn't endlessly bother them with 'what-was-that's'.

"Petrificus Totalus and a Finite Incantatem and no, he is not dead. If you look closely you'll find his eyes are still moving. Now answer me, Potter, who is this and why does your room look like a Manticore had been through it? Explain."

"This is Dobby, sir." Hesitantly he told his minder the rest, not expecting to be believed. Snape stood listening with a blank face, his black eyes not moving from Harry's, and the longer he talked the more nervous he became until he was near tears. "I promise I had nothing to do with it, I tried to stop him!" he ended in a half sob. "Please don't send me away!"

Oh, no. He had said that out loud, hadn't he? He cringed away in shame.

"I am not sending you anywhere. It seems trouble is bound to follow you and you'll be safest by my side," Snape told him and turned to examine Dobby. "You said his name was Dobby?"

"Yes, sir." He struggled to absorb the wizard's words. He was not going to be sent away?

Snape was kneeling next to the elf. "Potter, go sit on your bed, I need you out of the way in case he turns on us."

"He wouldn't, sir! I think he was trying to help… in a very weird way!"

"There's a known case where the elf poisoned his mistress and this one has already proven himself destructive. Do as I say."

Not yet a hundred percent sure that he wouldn't be sent away if he irritated the wizard too much Harry scuttled to his bed and sat down. Then he got up again and went to sit down on the end where he could better see what Snape was doing. Which was nothing. He was just looking into Dobby's eyes. Harry could indeed see they were moving now and after a minute big silver tears gathered in the corners of Dobby's eyes before rolling over his wrinkled cheeks.

"You're hurting him…" Harry whispered.

"I am not, do be quiet."

"But…"

"He is feeling guilty, Potter. Quiet."

This time he shut it and waited for Snape to finish.

"Can you read minds?" Harry asked the moment Snape sat back on his heels.

"Sometimes. No need to look at me like that, Potter, as you've just seen I need time and unbroken eye contact. I imagine if I could read the students' minds I would expire from boredom, wouldn't you?"

Considering all the things he, Ron, and Hermione had thought about their Potions Professor, probably not. "Yes, sir," he said anyway.

"Liar. If you're ever concerned you can simply break eye contact with the person. Look away."

Snape removed Harry's letters from the elf's pocket, tidied it and stacked it neatly on his desk.

"You can read them later," he told Harry. "I thought you were in contact with your friends. Owl deliveries would be directed to your bedroom window and I would have no need to interfere."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Your friends had not forgotten you, Potter. Had you come to me with your problem I could have told you that and might have looked into the issue before it came to this." He indicated the messed up room.

"Yes, sir." Harry felt his face heat up at the reprimand.

But Snape did not continue on the topic and started to pick things up, casting a Reparo on Harry's Herbology textbook, Healing at Home with Herbs by Phyllida Spore. Harry sprang to help and Snape taught him the charm that Hermione could do on the train already before school started. He felt a bit ashamed that he had never tried it himself but when someone could already do it and did not hesitate to fix your stuff before you even asked you just did not feel it was an important thing to learn. Now maybe he would. Snape didn't act as if he should know it already but Harry was sure he thought it.

They worked in silence around Dobby until everything was tidy again and Snape told him to put on some shoes.

"We will be going to visit the Malfoys."

"Draco!"

"His father," Snape said, looking at Harry as if he was an idiot. "Be down in five minutes." He cast a loud Leviosa at Dobby—probably not in the mood for Harry asking what's-that-spell?—and floated the elf out of the room ahead of him.

Harry rushed to find his shoes.

He found Snape in the living room, standing in front of the large fireplace, looking impatient, Dobby floating by his knees.

"I've already called ahead and they're expecting us," Snape said and held out the small urn that Harry had seen on the mantlepiece before. It held a glittery green powder. "You'll stay quiet, stay by my side and only speak with my permission, we are not going to a tea party, Potter. I would have left you here if I thought it safe. It's Malfoy Manor," Snape said as if that should mean anything to him. Harry tried to take the bowl and Snape raised it out of his reach.

"Only take what you need," Snape said before holding it back out to him and then frowned. "Have you not Flooed before?"

"No, sir."

"I suppose it was too much effort to pay attention in class?"

"I do pay attention in class." Unless it was History. Or when Malfoy and his goons distracted him in Potions. "No one ever taught us about… Flooed…"

"Floo travel. Magical fireplaces are connected to each other and if you know the address you may travel through the fire to a shop or private residence if they opened their wards to you."

"Oh. Which class taught that, sir?"

"Professor Hooch should have taught it in your flying lessons, I will have a word—"

Oh. "No! No need sir." While his classmates had continued with their flying lessons he had spent the time being secretly trained by Oliver Wood to be the Seeker. He told Snape this and the wizard's face pruned up while his own heated.

"Tomorrow we'll go over the information you had missed," Snape told him. "For now I need you to just do as I say. Take a pinch of powder, throw it in the fire and step in. Once you're inside you say 'Malfoy Manor'. Enunciate clearly. Then shut your mouth, keep your elbows tucked in, and wait for the correct hearth to stop before you step out. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape sighed. "I never thought I'd get tired of hearing 'yes, sir'."

"Sir?"

"Take the powder, Mr. Potter, I will be on your heels, you won't get lost."

Wizards traveled through fire. How on earth had he missed that information? As Ron would have said it sounded bonkers. Still. Snape was watching him and the man had probably never made a joke in his life. He had also had a whole month already to kill him if that had been his plan. This thought made him blush, remembering his mistake earlier in his bedroom.

Harry gathered his Gryffindor courage around him and did as he was told. When he threw the glittery powder into the hearth the orange flames flared up into a high, emerald green whirlpool. The heat disappeared and a cool breeze hit his face. He closed his eyes and stepped in. "Malfoy Manor!" he yelled, getting a mouth full of ash.

It was awful and amazing at the same time. While he coughed and choked on the ash the fire whirled a dizzy spiral and he saw what looked like hundreds of hearths flashing past him. There were even people! He saw a multitude of shops and was that Hagrid cooking? Harry turned around to see the half-giant better and something nearly took his nose off but a hand grabbed his collar from behind and pushed him forward and out. He hit the marble tiles hard, falling coughing to his knees, Snape's boots stopping next to him.

Malfoy Manor seemed to be everything Snape's house was not. They were in an impossibly large entry hall, several closed doors along the left wall and a wide marble stairway—nearly as large as the one in Hogwarts—on the right led to the first floor. Everything was gleaming, airy and white.

"Well well well, so this is the famous Harry Potter," a cold voice drawled above his head. "And what exactly are you doing with him, Severus?"

"Lucius," Snape said. "I see we're skipping the pleasantries today. Good, I have little time for this nonsense, pray tell why your elf thinks Mr. Potter here is in danger from your machinations."

"The elf is mad, I wouldn't believe a word he said."

"Even if that word was Diary?"

Harry looked up in time to see an impossibly tall pale man grow even paler. There was no doubt that this was Draco's father, they shared the same features from pointy chin to ratty hair. He disliked the man on sight.

"I doubt he would have had the courage to say anything of the sort."

"No, but a weak tortured mind has no trouble thinking it," Snape said and reached down to pull Harry back up on his feet. "You really should take better care of your property, Lucius."

"What is to stop me from eliminating you both right here?" Lucius Malfoy asked, his face a cold mask, eyes glittering danger. Harry's breath stopped.

"You're welcome to try," Snape said and suddenly they were both standing with their wands out, pointing at each other.

"No!" Harry heard someone shout and felt himself jump in front of the Potions Master, a wizard he had hated until very recently. "Don't hurt him!"

"What is going on?" A woman asked.

"Ah. Narcissa," drawled Snape above Harry's head, not sounding like a man thinking he was about to die. Slim fingers took hold of Harry's collar and pulled him aside, half tucking him in behind his arm. "Still unable to listen to directions, Harry?" he hissed.

"Yes, sir."

"We'll talk about it at home."

Home. The word rang through his mind and he did not hear anything of what happened next. He was vaguely aware that Dobby was revived and sent off to make tea, then found himself sitting hip to hip with Snape on a luxurious sofa in a palatial white room, a dainty teacup in his hand. Draco had come to see what was going on, his eyes boggling when he saw Harry in his house but had been sent away. His mother had stayed and listened to Snape's retelling of Dobby's visit. Harry was surprised to learn that all the fuss was about a Diary of Voldemort's—the Dark Lord, they called him—that Lucius had intended to send to Hogwarts. He couldn't imagine what a book could do but the three adults looked grim enough that he daren't ask.

"At our son's school, Lucius?" Narcissa asked. Then took her wand out and Harry's ears began to buzz.

"A privacy spell," Snape said when Harry looked to him for an explanation. He sipped his tea unconcerned and told Harry to do the same. They both watched the pantomime play out. Harry wanted to make a quip about a tea party and even opened his mouth but when Snape looked at him he refrained wisely. For a while, it looked like neither husband nor wife was going to back down and he really thought they would come to blows. Then Lucius sagged defeated, with bowed shoulders, and Narcissa waved her wand, stopping the buzzing noise.

"My apologies, Severus," she said. "Lucius will send the diary to Albus. Boys will be boys."

They went home. Snape repeated his instructions on Floo travel again. This time they said 'Spinner's End' and Harry was helped out a second time by a hand on his collar when he forgot to look for their living room in search of Hagrid. He tumbled a second time to the floor, tripping over an unseen barrier.

Snape pointed him to their faded sofa as soon as he got up and he sat down obediently with the tall wizard towering over him. This was the promised talk then. He strangled his trembling fingers on his lap.

"Stand up," Snape ordered.

Harry jumped up nervously.

"Sit down," Snape said and he did so, feeling confused.

"So you are able to follow direction."

Oh. He felt his ears heat up. "Sorry, sir."

Snape sighed.

"Potter, I need to be able to trust that you can follow instructions. It seems there are still people after you and I cannot keep you safe if you are going to be so idiotic as to jump in front of me at the mere sight of a wand."

"But he…"

"He, nothing," Snape barked. "I am the adult here. I'll be the one doing the saving if it came to that. I wouldn't have taken you there if I thought there was any danger." He watched Harry for a moment. His next words were softer. "I will not send you away if you disobey, you can set your mind to rest."

"I wasn't worried about that… " Harry blushed and looked down. He must look like such a child! He was twelve already, he should grow up. Was Snape reading his mind?

"You were and it is understandable. Tomorrow I'll start teaching you a few defensive spells so that if you intend to enact heroics again you'll at least think to pull out your wand while doing so. Now, wash your face, brush your hair and meet me at the Floo, it's past twelve, we are late."

Late for what he wanted to ask, but he also wanted to show he was going to follow directions so he rushed off to do Snape's bidding, running to their shared bathroom and back. The house at Spinner's End was miles removed from the opulence of Malfoy Mansion but it didn't even occur to him to compare the two, his eyes flitted unseeing over the peeling wallpaper and rusty taps. Two minutes later he was down again, standing to attention in front of the Potions Professor, shiny-faced and eager. He had wet his hair also just in case the wizard would think he hadn't bothered with the brush. Brushing never helped, even Hermione had given up.

A second time that day Snape picked up the urn and held it out. "I will not be paying attention to you, you can do as you please there, as long as you remember we are guests and behave accordingly."

"Yes, sir." Where?

"Say nothing of what transpired today, and if anyone asks your letters were blocked by my wards."

Harry nodded.

"Do you need a reminder on Floo travel? Step out only when you've got your bearings, the address will not disappear if you're slow."

"I think I got it."

Harry took a pinch from the proffered powder and then waited.

"The Burrow," Snape supplied and Harry threw the powder into the fire, stepped into the green flames, eager to show he could and shouted: 'The Burrow!' before he realised. He gasped and got a whole lungful of ash.

Again a strong hand helped him from behind only this time it kept him standing when they appeared in a quaint living room with colourful sofas and cozy rugs. Snape held him up as he hacked out the ash, thumping him mercilessly between his shoulder blades. Harry caught his glasses before it could fly from his face and looked teary eyed up at the gathered crowd.

There were Ron's parents, Ron, Fred and George, Percy looking pompously over their shoulders, Ginny, their sister who he recognized from King's Cross station, and Neville and Hermione! Behind them was a table laden with food and balloons floated lazily between the rafters.

"Oi, Harry, mate! You're late! I thought he'd killed you!" Ron said into the silence.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley and Hermione exclaimed as one.

The twins burst out laughing and then everyone rushed him, Hermione and Ron in the lead, and yelled an uncoordinated: "Happy Birthday, Harry! Surprise! Many happy returns!"

This time his tears were not from the ash.

A/N: Happy Birthday Neymovirne!