"Albus

"Albus! I can't possi-"

"I'm not asking Severus," the Headmaster replied, interrupting me. "Harry does no good to the wizarding world locked up for life. We need him."

"But as a child?" I asked, exasperated. "And why me of all people? Why not Black or Lupin or the Weasleys for Merlin's sake?"

"Because I asked you."

That was how I, Severus Tobias Snape, now found myself with an unconscious five year old bloody boy who bloody lived in my own personal quarters. It hadn't been easy sneaking him out of Azkaban. Hell, it hadn't been easy for me to simply sneak out of the castle under that toad Umbridge's watch.

Umbridge.

She was where it all started. Two months into the school year and she had the magnificent savior of the wizarding world incarcerated. Insufferable gnome. This is all her fault. And Albus, asking me to brew a de-aging potion and sneak Potter out of that life-sucking Hell. It's good to know that my Dark Mark is good for something. Dementors don't question the actions of those with Dark Marks unless ordered to.Brilliant.

With no cases on de-aging potions on the human mind, I know bugger all what this potion will do to Potter. Permanent until I choose to reverse it. Apparently it's no concern to the Headmaster as long as he's safely within the confines of Hogwarts. Do now and don't ask questions.

I'm a puppet to both the Light and Dark Lord. Tug on the strings and make puppet Severus dance. Make him scurry. Make him jump. Make him bow.

Bollocks.

How do I get myself into these messes? Potter stirs from my couch and I release the breath that I hadn't realized that I was holding. The glass of Fire Whiskey in my hand now empty. The bottle, newly opened, half empty.

I place my glass on the table as a soft rapping on the door breaks the silence. With a last glance at Potter, I stand, making my way to the door, pausing before opening it. "Who is it?"

"Minerva," she sounded anxious. "Hurry and let me in, I think she might have tailed me."

She.

I let her in quickly as she asked and shut the door tightly behind her.

"Where is he?"

With a curt tilt of my head I direct her to the couch which she quickly approaches and kneel down beside. I nearly smile as she mothers him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. Thank Merlin I stop myself as her eyes shoot back towards me; maybe I should have had one less glass.

"He looks…He's so small."

I nod at her. "The potions brings him back to his original five year old body, minus the glamours. He's always been quite small for his age."

"Body?" she asks me.

I pour myself another glass and hold the bottle towards her. She shakes her head at me, declining. "His memory may be intact," I reply.

"Magic?"

"No," I reply, shaking my head. "He'll only have the ability level of a five year old. Accidental- if that. It depends when his magic started to show."

She stands stiffly. "We can't simply let her continue with this. There has to be something that we can do."

"The Headmaster says he is working on it," I reply bitterly. "But I have a feeling that the Weasley twins will get to her first. Especially after the blood quill."

"Did Harry come to you?"

I shake my head. "I'm assuming that Granger gave him something for it. He'd never ask help from me. Another reason why I don't understand why the headmaster is having me care for the boy."

"He's safe with you," she replies, placing her hand on my forearm. "And it's more feasible for him to be your child. He's have no life with Sirius or Remus and you know it."

Knowing that she's right isn't enough to stop me from frowning. "And what life will he have with me, hiding behind glamours? The Dark Lord will be very interested to know about my so called child."

"You're his best hope."

That's what I am. A last resort. Keeper of Harry Bloody Potter. How I love my life.

"Where am I?"

Speaking of Harry Bloody Potter. Minerva is instantly at his side. "Harry?"

"Professor?" he asks confused. Seems he has his memory intact. Great. That certainly makes things more fun for me.

"Yes Harry," McGonagall replies. "You're safe now, Professor Snape rescued you. You're in his quarters."

"Snape?"

I want to bludgeon him and his squeaky pre-pubescent voice. "Yes Potter," I drawl out, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"What's wrong with me?" he asks frantically. "What happened?"

Minerva pauses before answering. "To keep you safe you've been given a potion which has de-aged you to five. As you are to be professor Snape's ward you also have several glamours placed on you so that you can pass as his son."

"Son?"

"Yes Potter," I say through clenched teeth, earning a scathing look from Minerva, but I could care less at the present moment. "For as long as need me, you are now my son, Tobias Snape."

Finally, he's speechless, thank Merlin.

"The couch you are on pulls out," I state. "We'll converse in the morning."

As he nods at me, Minerva once more brushes a strand of hair out of his face and I shudder. The glamours certainly did their trick. He's the spitting image of myself as a child.

Minerva gives me a warning look before bidding me goodnight and leaving towards her own quarters on the third floor.

"Sir?"

I snap my head back towards Potter who jumps at my sudden movement. "What is it?"

"Um…can I use your bathroom?"

Rolling my eyes is inevitable and I point to the loo, not moving from my place until he leaves and finishes, returning with his oversized shirt soaked through. At my questioning look he glares at me.

"I had issue reaching the sink."

My smirk makes him more angry but as I approach him in thought of using a drying spell, he drops to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest.

For a moment I am too stunned at his sudden change in demeanor to do anything.

"Potter," I state, "get up."

He looks sheepishly at me and slowly pulls himself to his face, blush evident on his face. He's embarrassed.

Honestly, what have I gotten myself into? "Bed," I say, turning my back to him to get an extra blanket and pillow from the magically enlarged linen closet.

Turning back around, I stop in my tracks and watch as Potter, with all his might, is unable to pull out the sofa bed. It's easy to see that he's getting aggravated with his small and powerless body. He makes a few more attempts before kicking the sofa.

"Move back."

He jumps at my voice but does as he is told as I use my wand to bring the bed out.

"Thanks," he mutters and I place the pillow and blanket on the bed.

"This room and the bathroom," I say slowly, "are the only places I want to see you anywhere near."

I have a feeling he wants to tell me off but he holds his tongue for possibly the first time in his life.

With a massive migraine, I walk to my bedroom and throw myself into my bed without changing my clothes.

Somehow pajamas just aren't important right now.