"That's why I have to stay with Sev'rus, see?" Harry said finally. "'Cause they say I'm the whelp, and stupid. Worthless. They hate me and they'll kill me, and, and, and . . . I don't wanna die." He swallowed around his own tears. "But Sev'rus saved me when I was gonna, and he fixed me up and he hugs me and reads to me, and calls me his son. You can't . . . you can't make me go back to them. You have to let me stay with Sev'rus. Please."
"No, Merlin, I don't . . ." Mr. Black looked like he was searching for words, but did not get a chance to say them before a blinding light erupted in the room.
The boy covered his head with his hands and ducked under the chair.
HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS
In the Shrieking Shack, Albus Dumbledore turned the knob on an upstairs bedroom after having checked it for magical energy. The door eased open quietly, and Dumbledore's shoulders slumped in relief when no attack came from within. But Severus Snape knew there would be no attack. He knew Black wasn't here, and knew Harry wasn't either. But Dumbledore had made them come all the same.
The Headmaster had suggested this stop first, before any others, and Snape had balked. Badly. He wanted nothing to do with the Shrieking Shack, not after what had happened to him there, little more than ten years ago. Still, when the Headmaster insisted that Black might have been able to get there with Harry, in a wandless Apparation, Snape finally agreed to check it out with him. Even though Dumbledore took the front in their search -- and would thus bear the brunt of any ambush from within the house -- Severus could do little more than count his breaths to keep himself calm, and hope they would leave this terrible place -- where Black had nearly gotten him killed by a werewolf -- soon.
Albus turned to him and shook his head. "Alas, he is not here."
The words soothed some of Severus' anxiety, but it was not till they were back out under the stars that he could take a full breath without feeling like his chest was in a vise. He hated this shack, and everything it stood for.
But, above all, he needed to find Harry . . .
"What is it, my boy?" Albus said quietly.
Severus stared off into the distance, southwest, if he had to put a direction on it, and shook his head, but could still hear the chant in his head. Please, Daddy; please, come help me. "I feel . . ."
"Yes?"
Daddy! Come help me, Daddy. PLEASE COME! "Harry's calling for me."
"I imagine he is," the Headmaster said, his tone soft. "Can you hear him?"
Please, Daddy; please, come help me. Severus nodded, and his throat tightened. "He needs me. He's scared."
"We'll find him. I swear this to you."
Severus darted a look at the old wizard. Dumbledore never swore anything. He knew what it was to give someone your oath. But, of course, he had not said they would find Harry alive. Always leaving a . . . Daddy! Come help me, Daddy. PLEASE! "He's calling me," Severus repeated. He pointed to the southwest. "From there."
"The Three Broomsticks?"
"Merlin, Albus, no. From far away. England . . . London, perhaps . . ."
"London, you say?"
"It could be. I don't know." Daddy! Come help me, Daddy. "It just seems far away, and Harry isn't saying anything specific, just that he needs me, needs my help . . ."
"Come, Severus." Albus latched onto his arm. "I believe I know where they are." The Headmaster lit his wand with a Lumos that burned into Severus retinas it was so bright, and he almost considered batting the wand away, but then he felt the old man turn, and turned with him, so they could Apparate together.
The next moment, they were landing in a large, dark room, with Albus' wand lighting everything around them. From all around the room came the howl from a dog, the screeching hiss of a kneazle and then the cry of a young boy, yelling, "Daddy!"
Severus dashed toward his son, heedless of everything else. The boy was in the process of hiding under a chair. The foul odor of urine clung to him -- he must have been petrified, was Severus' only thought -- and he scooped his son into his arms. "Harry! Oh, thank Merlin, are you alright?"
"'M'okay, Daddy, where did the Black man go?"
Clutching the boy tight to his chest, and covering Harry's small body with his own arms and robes, so he could not be hurt again, even by friendly wand fire, Severus spun in place quickly, seeing only a great black dog locked in combat with Treacle Tart, Harry's little kneazle, while Dumbledore looked on, seemingly confused. The kneazle spat and clawed and hissed and yowled and the dog could not get close enough to her to do anything but yelp as she swiped claws across his nose.
A sudden thought occurred to Severus. The dog -- who looked a bit too like a grim -- was Black. "He's an Animagus, Albus! Stun him!"
Albus did.
Treacle Tart gave the large dog one last swat with her exposed claws, hissed a final time in the beast's direction, and stalked over to Harry and Severus, tail held high. Once again, she had saved his son.
Severus sat heavily on the chair, hugging Harry close and not paying any mind to the smell. "Gods, are you alright? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you, son?" he asked the boy, seeing both tears and snot running over his lips and chin.
Harry was breathing hard, but said, "No, no, I'm okay, sir."
Severus' eyes narrowed in confusion. "Sir? You know better than that."
"But, sir?" Harry said, and new tears tumbled from his bright green eyes. "I'm not . . . he said I'm not your son no more. He said 'cause he din't give pre'mission for you to 'dopt me."
"Oh, Harry . . ." Severus hugged his son all the tighter, and smoothed a hand over the back of the poor boy's head, murmuring soft, soothing things, even as he glared at the pile of black fur on the floor. How could that man have said such a thing to his Harry, his sweet, loving son? But then, this was what came of not telling the boy the truth right away. Softly, he continued, "Black didn't have to give permission. He couldn't. James was never your father. You were always mine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I found out a few weeks ago, but I thought you had quite enough to be going on with already."
The tears faltered and died, and Harry gave him a quizzical look. "I'm not 'dopted? Not even Blood 'dopted?"
"No, no, son, you are, always will be, and always have been mine. I didn't know, myself, before we did the ceremony, because your Mum set a charm on you that changed the way you looked, though only a tiny bit, and she never told me the truth, nor James, who she married after she was pregnant." He stopped, knowing this was too much detail for this time, and for this child at his age. Although, one thing was explained, apparently. "Because we did the blood ceremony, though, we have an even closer bond than most fathers and sons. The bond helped me find you today, because I could hear you calling for me, as your father. You are my son, Harry. Always. Never let anyone tell you differently."
Harry nodded and clutched him in a hug with his skinny little arms, just as tightly as Severus was, as if neither of them could let the other go. "Love you, Daddy," the boy whispered into his chest.
"Love you, too, Harry," Severus whispered back.
On the floor in front of them, the great black dog transformed back into a man with black hair and pure blue, haunted eyes. He was still stunned, but fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he watched Harry and his father.