Despite doubt having been cast over Sirius Black's guilt, Snape couldn't help but notice some problems.

First, Black had yet to be found. Which was quite an obstacle if they intended to hear his side of the story.

Secondly, if Peter Pettigrew was still alive, no one knew where he was either. He had a suspicion Lupin knew more than he was letting on, but he had been strictly forbidden from harassing 'poor Remus'. Too bad that adding Veritaserum to the Wolfsbane would kill the werewolf before he would be able to question him.

Thirdly – he doubted that even if Pettigrew was found and Black declared innocent that he would be able to take in Harry. Black had never been the most mature person in the school – Severus snorted to himself – and Azkaban may or may not have improved it. Either way, he was bound to have issues of his own and not a suitable guardian for an abused and traumatized young teen.

Harry seemed willing to believe in Black's innocence, and while the boy had given good, logically sound reasons for doubting the judgment made so many years ago, he feared that much of Harry's enthusiasm came from the hope that his godfather would be willing to take him in. After two years of hostility and the inhibitor fiasco, Harry would never consider his Potions Master for the position.

Snape frowned. Where did that thought come from? It wasn't like he WANTED to be Harry's guardian…come to think of it, what ever happened to 'Potter'?

"Bloody paradigm shifts," he muttered angrily.

"Talking to yourself is a sign of old age, Severus," came the voice of the Transfigurations Professor from behind him.

"Minerva," he acknowledged.

"You have a lot to think about these days, haven't you?" she continued kindly.

Snape sighed and nodded. "Most of it not exactly pleasant," he admitted.

"Do you want to tell me?"

The wizard frowned. "I doubt you wish to hear it. You would only end up yelling at me."

McGonagall took his elbow and steered him towards her quarters. "Try me."

She sat him down on the sensible, yet comfortable couch in her quarters and set to ordering some tea.

"Harry Potter," Snape muttered, "I had to admit to myself that I have been blind all this time, which is not a pleasant experience."

"Being wrong never is," the witch smiled as she handed him his cup of tea, "but we all are from time to time. You have no more wronged Harry than I have wronged you when you were young."

A shadow played over her face. "I too let my prejudices take over my better judgment."

Snape smiled at her. "You tried, later on," he said fondly, "I heard what kind of dressing down you gave Black and Potter after that OWL afternoon in fifth year."

"Yet you were punished for the hex, and they were not," Minerva sighed, "it was one of those occasions where I doubted if Albus is really suited for this job."

The wizard hesitated. "I have noticed…a disturbing tendency in the Headmaster to…disregard certain circumstances if they do not suit his plans."

McGonagall sat down. "He is very used to knowing best, giving advice instead of receiving it. He lacks peers, I think. Even I only know him as an elderly, frighteningly powerful wizard – he was eighty, I think, already when I started Hogwarts. The peers he does have are in awe of him – Elphias Doge nearly worships the ground the walks on. Even Griselda Marchbanks, who is actually his senior, speaks only of his great talents. The only one to oppose him, in the first war, was Aberforth but that is often dismissed as sibling rivalry – even if they are over a century and a half old! Sometimes I wonder. Aberforth grew up with Albus, he knows him better than any of us…"

"Including the less…savoury sides of his character," Snape understood.

"It may be worthwhile to listen to him," Minerva nodded.

sssssssssssssss

Finally, after what seemed like forever to Harry the three weeks were done. He noticed it immediately, that night after dinner – the inhibitor circlet emerged from his skin and lay loosely on his head.

Snape had expected Harry to come in. The three weeks were up and he doubted the boy would have forgotten that little fact. So when after dinner, a knock came on his office door, he didn't have to check his wards to know who it was.

"Enter."

Harry walked in and held the circlet out to him. "It just came off," he explained.

"It is supposed to," Snape nodded, "the timer in the inhibitor apparently still works flawlessly."

Then he studied the boy. Of course, over the past three weeks the bruises had almost completely disappeared, but there were still the vivid red scars, and the faint yellow lingering about his eye.

"Your appearance has not changed," he noted.

Harry shrugged. "It's kinda pointless, isn't it, to hide it now? Everyone already saw. My magic didn't feel the need to hide it anymore."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "I apologise."

"You said that already," Harry remarked, "it's ok. I mean, it is horrible that everyone saw, but you were ni…erm, decent to me since I got here."

Moving to sit behind his desk, Snape pretended to grade an essay. "There are times when we must admit that the preconceived notions we held are not entirely correct."

Harry took a moment to decipher this statement, then smirked. "It takes courage to change," he remarked, "one could believably argue that a person capable of admitting that former prejudices were incorrect, is exhibiting almost…Gryffindor properties."

Snape's head shot up. "What?!?!?"

Then he noticed the smirk and his eyes narrowed.

"I suppose one could argue such, but I daresay the person holding that view finds himself in grave danger of having to scour the Owlery floor with a previously mentioned dental appliance…"

"Well it's a good thing no one used that argument, then," Harry said calmly.

"Brat."

"Thank you, sir."

"Have you given any more thought to the guardianship issue?"

With a tired sigh, Harry shook his head. "There is no one," he admitted, "maybe my godfather if he is innocent."

Snape hesitated. "Harry…."

He sat the boy down on the couch and took the chair opposite. "Harry, if your godfather spent twelve years innocent in Azkaban, it is a miracle if he even is sane. I doubt he will be in any condition to raise a child. I don't say that to discourage you," he added when he saw the boy's face fall, "but you must be prepared for the eventuality."

"So I'll have to go back to the Dursleys," Harry concluded sadly.

"I did not say that," Snape retorted, "even if by the end of the year we find no suitably guardian, you will not go back. It will be a bit more difficult, but we will manage."

ssssssss

That night Severus made his way to the Hog's Head. At that time the pub was completely empty except for a few chronic drunks. The piercing blue eyes of the bartender unnerved him, they were so like the Headmaster's, but the face certainly wasn't. No benevolent, condescending, all-knowing smile. Instead hard lines and a sceptic pulling of a corner of the mouth beneath the beard.

"Aberforth Dumbledore?" Severus asked just to be sure.

"The one and only," the man replied, "Severus Snape."

"Indeed," Snape drawled.

"My brother's sending his lackey, then? What does he want?"

Snape sat down at the bar. "No longer a lackey, I think, and he doesn't know I am here."

Aberforth studied him intently for long moments, and although Snape knew he was not using Legilimency, his secrets were drawn from him all the same.

"Slipping your leash, are you?" the man growled approvingly, "about time some of you did."

"I owe much to the Headmaster," Snape said with a shrug, "for a long time I thought gratitude meant doing his bidding without question."

"But not anymore," Aberforth concluded, "good boy. Now, what can I do for you?"

"We are concerned about the Headmasters dealings with Harry Potter," Severus frowned, "the boy has been abused by his relatives. We have reason to believe Albus knew, did nothing and still intends to send the boy back to them. Furthermore, we are looking for Sirius Black. There are doubts about his guilt, now that the people involved have put together all the facts. We must hear his side of the story."

The bartender smiled. "That was about time, too. I always thought it suspicious, and Albus wouldn't hear of getting the boy a proper trial. I am surprised that you are pushing for it – you're not exactly best friends."

"For Harry's sake," Severus sighed, "I doubt he will be a suitable guardian for the boy, but he is still his godfather. If Black is innocent, Harry will want to get to know him."

The steady gaze of the old man nearly made him squirm. "I…was forced to…reconsider some of my opinions of the boy," he admitted.

"Many changes," Aberforth remarked.

"Yes. Admitting I am wrong is not my strongest quality…but my relationship with Harry is much more amiable now…much easier to see Lily in him."

Aberforth frowned a little, but let whatever it was he wanted to say pass. "Alright, lad, I believe you are on the level. I'll help however I can. First, I can teach you some of Albus's dirty tricks for circumventing Occlumency shields with his Legilimency…"

"Black's been sighted nearby," McGonagall said a few days later.

"So I heard," her youngest colleague responded calmly, "Keep an eye on Lupin, Minerva. He knows more than he's letting on."

To his surprise, the witch nodded. "I noticed that. It is time we make him divulge his secrets. I hope you are also keeping an eye on Harry?"

"Harry knows not to go out and confront Black on his own, if Black ever is on the school grounds."

"He is also thirteen years old and unused to adult supervision," McGonagall pointed out, "it's not that I don't trust Harry, but they can be so unpredictable at that age."

"Aberforth is also keeping an eye out," Snape lowered his voice, "There's no reason to worry."

Famous last words…