Here it is...finally. Hope you all enjoy it. Title: To Have and To Keep Author: Montana Daniels Sequel to: To Have Not Pairing: HP/SS, HP/various implied characters Rating: NC-17 (overall) Series: To Have Genre: Slash, romance, some humor, some angst and AU as I’ve made up events in their 6th year and am using only selective canon of OoP. Spoilers: The first five books Warnings: Mpreg. This story is based on the Universe created in To Have and To Hold in which several aspects of Book Five didn't occur (namely Sirius' death). Book 6, since it wasn't out at the time, is completely ignored. Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe and all its wonderful characters belong to JK Rowling and odd conglomerate companies. No money is being made. Summary: Free from Lucius and Severus, Harry gets on with his life. Although there are many people who want him, between his curse and his admirerers, can he find fulfillment and love? And what are Severus' chances of regaining what he lost? Author’s notes: Snape’s (and now Harry's) inner voice was inspired by Diagonalist’s ‘Flawed lines’ and used with permission. If you haven’t read her work, she is the queen of the inner voice and a wonderful author. All of her lovely fics can be found here: Flawed Lines Many thanks and much chocolate to my incomparable betas (info) djin7 and (info) rakina . Any mistakes remaining are mine because one could hardly have mistakes with the compounded advice from the lovely and talented ladies named above. See last entry for previous chapters. ETA: OMG. I'm so sorry. It looked fine in the preview. Let's see if this is better. Chapter 7 "Harry, I'm worried," Hermione said, putting down her teacup. They were comfortably seated in the sitting room in her small flat. "You really should talk to someone about-" "I'm fine," Harry insisted. "You're not fine. There's no way you could be fine," she argued. "A loss like you had-" "Don't you understand?" Harry finally snapped. "I didn't want it. I put it out of my mind. I didn't… Well, I got what I wanted, didn't I?" he added bitterly. "Oh, Harry." Hermione looked as if she wanted to jump the table between them to hug him. "This wasn't your fault. You do know that?" "Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. He did know it. "But I deserved it." "What?" "I screwed everything up. I drank too much; I got royally pissed a few times, even after you warned me not to. And my stupid scar probably didn't help," he mumbled. Hermione got up and moved from her chair to the couch to sit beside him. Her sharp gaze studied his expression. "Harry, don't you understand why you actually lost the babies?" "Yeah. I had a naturally conceived magical baby and a potion conceived magical baby and the two magics weren't compatible." Hermione nodded with a small grin as if proud that he actually understood, "But don't you see the importance of it?" "Of what?" "Of the naturally conceived baby?" Harry stared at her. He had no idea why it should be important, but he had a feeling he was about to find out. "It's actually very rare to have a naturally conceived magical male pregnancy," she told him. "It's so rare in fact that they call them 'true love' babies." It didn’t seem so earth shattering. "Doesn't matter, does it?" Harry said, the bitterness back. "It's gone - they're gone." Harry couldn't meet her gaze. "Harry, my point is that you and Snape have a love strong enough to conceive." Harry looked up. Aha! "So, that's what this is about? You're keen on getting me back with Snape." Sounds good to me. "Well, I remember how happy you were and…" Yeah, remember that? "And I'm pretty happy now," Harry said defiantly. "I'm independent. I have prospects and several new friends who could be more if I want. I really was too dependent on Snape. Well, on his love - his caring anyway. I needed it to validate myself." “You deserve to be happy, Harry!” she insisted. “You’re happy with him.” “I’m happy now.” Hermione tossed up her hands. "Harry Potter, you are the most stubborn wizard I know." Harry grinned cheekily. "I'm told I get that from my mother." Hermione gave him a little shove. "Prat." Serious again, Harry touched her shoulder. "I do appreciate the concern, Hermione," Harry said, and he meant it. "And I love you, but I need to be on my own for a while. I don't want to have to rely on anyone." Harry held up his hand as Hermione opened her mouth. "At least not yet. I have plenty of time to find someone to share my life with. And if it turns out to be Snape, then you can always gloat. But if it's not, then I can still cherish the memories of what we had." "It still wasn't your fault," Hermione grumbled, then hugged him hard. Pulling away, she wiped her eyes. "So, how is your magic doing?" Harry shrugged. "Not much of anything yet. The doctor said I may have some surges and some weakness, but he said I should be back at full strength in a few months." "And have you - had any large surges?" Harry sighed and told her how he'd almost destroyed his kitchen and the door at the shop, and how trying to shut down his Floo had thrown him across the room. "And before you start lecturing me, you should know that Dumbledore bound me to Dobby so he could get through my wards." Harry rushed on, "In case I ever get hurt again." Hermione blinked at this and Harry wondered if he was going to get another lecture, this time on the evils of elf slavery. "That's wonderful," she said instead. "Um, really?" "Of course," she replied as if he were dim. "A bound house-elf will be able to tell if you’re injured or in distress and he can help. The only other ways through an existing blood ward would be if you got magically bound to another witch or wizard – married, so to speak – or had children. It's brilliant." But Hermione had said the wrong thing and it brought Harry's mind right back to Severus. He couldn't stop thinking about it. About how Severus must hate him. Oh, yes. It certainly seemed like he hated you when he was pounding you through his mattress. Severus had known about the potion and he had still made love to Harry, knowing what would happen, Harry reasoned. Severus must have wanted a child. And Harry had killed it. *********** Dobby was staring at the kitchen in dismay. "What's the matter?" Harry asked as he pulled on his jumper. He was heading off to the shop. Work was the best way to keep his mind off things and he still wanted to inventory all the dark objects in the store. "Dobby is sorry, Master Harry," the elf said, frowning. "Dobby cannot fix it." "You're joking?" "The magic is all…twisted," he said almost puzzled. "Dobby needs to replace." "Can you do that?" Dobby nodded. "Dobby is bound to Harry Potter, but master has to approve the gold. Anything Dobby requires will be deducted from master's vault." "Ah," Harry said with a grin. Dobby was his own debit card. "Do anything you like. I have the money." "Master trusts Dobby to-" "Of course," Harry said. "You know me, Dobby." Sniffling, Dobby watched his master leave through the Floo to go to his shop. How proud he was to be Harry Potter's house-elf. It was like a dream. Ever since the moment he had found the sock in the diary, he knew what a great wizard Harry Potter was and he knew he'd be forever thankful and loyal to the wizard who had set him free. He was no longer technically free, but to be bound to such a wizard was an honor not enslavement. Dobby peered around the humble flat. His master was wealthy, indeed almost as rich as his previous master – the Potter line was nearly as old – yet he chose to make his home welcoming instead of showy. Dobby could tell just by standing in the room that the pieces were hand picked and of good quality. And woven into the homey atmosphere was the aura of Severus Snape. His master had chosen his furnishings with Professor Snape. Dobby smiled. Soon he would have a family, a good family, to serve again. *********** “Master.” Harry fumbled with the statue he had been holding to keep from dropping it. “By Merlin,” Harry gasped. “Don’t do that.” “Dobby is sorry, Master Harry,” the elf said, his eyes lowered. Harry hoped he wasn’t thinking of beating himself over the head with anything. He carefully put the statue on his desk. It was an old piece and he had been trying to pinpoint its heritage using the books collected in the office. “It’s alright. What is it?” A square tile appeared in Dobby’s hands. “Does Master like this color?” Harry sighed. It was sort of almond with light green leaves on it. “It’s fine, Dobby. I told you, I trust you. You don’t have to check back with me every time you pick something.” The elf had already checked the fabric for the new curtain and the stain for the cupboard. Dobby’s lip trembled and a fat tear appeared in his eye. “Master is too kind.” Harry would have said something but Dobby had vanished. Returning to his book, Harry was startled again as the door cracked open and a head leaned in. “Harry?” “Hi, Sirius.” Harry waved him in and indicated a chair in front of his desk. His godfather studied him for a moment. “Who does your glamour, since the…” Sirius didn’t need to finish and Harry really didn’t want to talk about it. “Millie can do it now that she knows what it looks like.” Sirius grinned as he flopped down on the chair. “Strange pair of birds you’ve got working for you.” Harry smiled. “Yeah, but they’re terrific. I don’t think I could run this shop if not for them.” He took his seat behind the desk. “Just don’t let Cassi touch you.” “Why?” “She’s a Seer,” Harry said with a flinch. “I thought she was a Muggle.” “No, she’s a squib but she has ‘the Sight’. So I’m told. She’s really scary too.” “Accurate, eh?” Sirius guessed and Harry nodded. “So what’s up?” Harry asked. “Er, you’re a hard man to track down,” Sirius said. Harry could tell he was hedging. “Yeah, I’m just keeping busy.” “Safely, I hope.” Harry forced a scowl. "Yes, mum. I’m being a good boy. Besides, now that I’m bound to Dobby, he knows everything. If I so much as sniffle, he brings me a Pepper- up." Sirius nodded his approval. "And how is-" “Sirius,” Harry cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about me. You’re obviously here for a reason. Tell me.” Indignant, Sirius demanded, “Do I need an excuse to visit my godson?” His outraged remark didn’t fly with Harry. “If you’re visiting without Remus, then yeah, you do.” Sirius colored with a grin. “I’ve never been a very good liar.” Harry grinned back. “Exactly, so let’s hear it.” “I just didn’t want to hurt you, after everything.” “Huh?” Harry blinked. What could hurt him? “You’re scaring me, Sirius. Please just tell me.” Sirius sighed. “Remus and I are getting married.” Harry blinked some more and then he leapt to his feet. “That’s wonderful!” he said. Then he frowned. “Why did you think that would hurt me?” “Well, since your plans have…I mean since you…” Sirius continued to grasp at ideas. Harry crossed his arms. “You mean since my love life is screwed up, you didn’t think I’d want you and Remus to be happy? Thanks a lot.” Sirius stood. “No! That’s not what I meant.” He paced a small area of the office. “Look, I know that me and Moony can be a little hard to be around sometimes.” Isn’t that the truth? “It just seems that you avoid us now because your own experiences have been less than satisfying.” Oh, do tell him just how satisfying Severus is. Damned inner voice. Harry ignored it. “I do know what you mean, Sirius, but it hasn’t been all horrible you know. Just because my relationships ended badly doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy them or that they were ‘less than satisfying’.” He took a breath. “And it certainly doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to see you happy.” Sirius stared at him a moment. “Merlin, Harry. When did you get more mature than I am?” Harry chuckled, relaxing again. “When I was about fourteen,” he replied. Sirius grimaced but it was a good natured one. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” Relaxing back into his chair, Harry asked, “So when is the wedding?” “We haven’t set a date,” Sirius admitted. “We only agreed to it, or rather, I finally got Remus to say ‘yes’ after the full moon last week.” Harry was truly pleased. “That’s terrific. Congratulations.” Sirius grinned. “Thanks. We probably won’t wait. I don’t want to give Remus a reason to back out – he’s still all weird because of the werewolf thing, not that it matters after all these years – so it’ll probably just be a small ceremony with friends at the beach house.” “Sounds great,” Harry said. Actually, a wedding on the beach sounded perfect. “You’ll be my best man, right?” Harry swallowed thickly. “Of course.” ********* “Yes, Sirius already asked me to perform the ceremony,” Albus said, smiling happily as he poured their tea. “You?” Harry asked, snagging a biscuit and settling into the chair in front of the Headmaster’s desk. He was really starting to enjoy his weekly visits with Albus. “Are you clergy?” Albus chuckled. “We’re wizards, Harry. Anyone from the Wizengamot can perform a wizarding wedding.” “Do you think everyone from Hogwarts will be able to go?” Harry asked. “I mean, I’m sure Sirius and Remus will want everyone to be there.” There was an irritating twinkle in the older man’s eyes. “A lot depends on the date,” he explained. “If they pick a time during one of the Holiday breaks then I’m sure everyone who’s invited will be able to attend.” Harry nodded absently. He hadn’t thought too much about the actual guest list until just that moment. While he doubted Sirius would invite Severus, Harry wondered if Severus would actually want to go. Attend something so sentimental? Or even, if Harry would want to him to. Witness romantic drivel that might give you both ideas? “So, I hear you're in the running for the Nicholas Flamel Award,” Albus interrupted his thoughts. Harry choked on his tea. Blinking, he looked at Albus. "What?" Eyes twinkling again, Albus grinned. “A potion with your name on it was sent to be considered for the Award.” “Er, the Nicholas Flamel A-award?” “Yes, Harry,” he explained. “It's a potions award for formulas that have contributed to the betterment of society. Have you brewed such a potion?” Mind reeling, Harry could only stammer, “Um, er-“ Albus smiled. “Ah, my boy. You are far too modest. And I can see you did not send in the sample yourself. Someone must think you deserve the recognition.” Grant. Who else could it be? “But don't they need my permission?” Harry asked. “It's not usually an issue,” Albus clarified. “Many potions considered a contribution to society are submitted. Only the truly outstanding ones are nominated, and then the most beneficial is awarded.” “Oh.” Cocking his head, Albus asked, “What did you concoct, Harry?” Harry peered up hesitantly. “It's just a pain remedy.” “Oh?” His eyes were still twinkling. “There must be something special about it,” he prompted. “It's, um, non-addictive,” Harry admitted. “Is it?” Albus declared with delight. Harry nodded. Albus smiled over the rim of his teacup. “I'm assuming it was brewed due to necessity and tested by you.” “Yeah.” “It's nothing to be embarrassed about, my boy. Do you know the suffering you could relieve with a potion such as that?” Harry shrugged. “I guess.” “You should be proud,” Albus declared. “I am very proud of you and I'm sure Severus will be very pleased when he finds out.” Harry looked away. He was trying not to think of Severus again. He hated how all his resolve and determination flew right out the window whenever they were together. Isn’t love grand? ******* Grant stopped by Harry’s flat the next day to show Harry some of the bottles and labels suggested by the marketing department of his company. Harry took the opportunity to confront Grant about the award. “You submitted our potion for an award?” Grant looked up from the workbench startled. “Sure,” he admitted. “Why not? It works. How did you find out?” “Dumbledore congratulated me,” Harry said, waving it off. “But an award?” “Harry, it will get recognition. It's for the 'greater good,'” Grant insisted. “Think of all the suffering that your potion can help alleviate.” Not to mention that an award-winning potion sells better. Harry sighed, looking at the bottles lined up on his workbench. It certainly did look like Grant wanted him to sell it. “Maybe I can use my alias,” he suggested. “You know, so ‘Harry Potter’ won't be the deciding factor.” Grant laughed. “Yeah, that would be a great idea, right up until the time that the patent officials at the Ministry do an Originator’s Spell on the formula.” Harry looked up. “They do that?” he asked incredulously. “Of course,” Grant informed him. “The potions industry is a suspicious and paranoid lot. It's mandated, to protect brewers in general. Everyone insists on it.” To demonstrate, Grant took one of the vials Harry had stored in his lab and waved his wand over it. Tiny letters began appearing over the vial and Grant read them out loud for Harry, “Formulated by Harry James Potter, based on theory by Severus Snape - that's common since he was your Potions Master at school and you are using one of his base potions - and assisted by -er –“ Grant cancelled the spell, his face horrified. “What?” Harry said with alarm. “What did it say?” Grant blushed. “Well, it said my name.” Harry blinked. “So, you helped.” “Yeah, but I never expected to get credit for it.” He certainly wouldn’t say no to the money though. “Awww,” Harry teased. “Are we getting shy?” “Shut it,” Grant grumbled. “I just don't like recognition. YOU ought to understand that.” “Yeah. Well, don't worry, It's not like I'm going to put Potter's and Montgomery's Miracle Pain Killer on the label.” “You are going to market it though, right?” Harry eyed him. Maybe he needed cash. “If you want to me to. I really don't need any more money, but you'd get a portion of the proceeds I suppose.” Grant flushed, looking away. “I wouldn't say no to some royalty payments, no.” Hah! “Your company did say they were interested, right?” At Grant's nod, he added, "Maybe, I could sell the formula to them." Grant considered it. “I wouldn't sell it outright. Selling the rights to make it would be more profitable. My opinion, of course.” “I'll ask Neville. He's great at that stuff.” “Master.” Harry jumped. “Dobby, please don’t do that.” Dobby stared at his feet. “Dobby is sorry, master.” He peered up, his large eyes deeply remorseful and Harry knew he couldn’t be angry. Those eyes turned to Grant and narrowed. “Master has company?” “This is my friend, Grant Montgomery,” Harry introduced. “We’ve been working on a potions project together.” Grant offered a hesitant smile but Dobby frowned. “Dobby doesn’t know master’s company. Dobby knows all of Master Harry’s friends.” He took a step toward Grant, his hand outstretched accusingly. “Who is you? What does you want with Harry Potter?” Surprised, Harry moved forward, stepping between them. “I told you who he was,” Harry said. “He’s the cousin of someone I knew at school. Dobby, relax.” But the elf didn’t take his eyes off Grant. Nervously, Grant picked up one of the vials. “I should go anyway, Harry.” “But-“ “Yes, he should go,” Dobby threatened. “Dobby!” “It’s all right, Harry,” Grant insisted. “I’ll find out some information about getting our potion secured with the company.” “All right,” Harry said. “I’ll firecall you later,” Grant promised and hurried out of the room. When Harry heard the sound of the Floo, he turned on his house-elf. “What the hell was that all about?” he demanded. For once, Dobby didn’t look contrite. Determination hardened his little face. “Dobby does not trust that wizard.” “Dobby, he’s my friend,” Harry maintained. “He is false,” Dobby claimed. “Dobby is bound to Harry Potter. Dobby will protect Harry Potter.” “Grant is all right,” Harry said. “I trust him.” “Harry Potter trusted Barty Crouch, Jr.,” Dobby argued. Harry blinked. “He was Polyjuiced,” he defended. “How was I supposed to know? Are you saying that Grant is Polyjuiced, too?” Dobby sniffed. “House elves is not knowing Polyjuice.” “Then how do you know he’s false?” Harry challenged. “Dobby is knowing,” the elf said, crossing his arms. “Dobby is knowing lots of bad wizards. Dobby knows what’s best for Harry Potter.” Oh, great. Harry couldn’t agree more. Another one who insisted they knew what was good for Harry. “Dobby, I can and will pick my own friends,” he told the elf firmly. “And if Grant is here, you will be nice.” “He is wanting something from Master,” Dobby said. Harry blinked. Maybe Dobby was just reading Grant’s interest in Harry. “That’s my business, Dobby,” he said. “I don’t need you nosing around in my love life.” “Master only needs his professor.” Oh, ho! So this is about Severus! Sighing, Harry had to agree with his inner voice. Dobby had been spying on him for Severus at one point. If the elf was helping Severus, of course, he was going to attack anyone Harry had a love interest in. “Was there something you wanted, Dobby?” Harry asked, changing the subject altogether. He would just have to order Dobby to leave Grant alone. Dobby couldn’t disobey a direct order. Dobby asked for permission to acquire a special type of stove that house-elves use and Harry gave it. The elf blinked out to continue his duties and Harry moved to his desk to do some paperwork for the shop. ********* True to his word, Grant investigated having the potions company where he worked market and distribute the potion. According to Neville, who examined and negotiated the contract for Harry and Grant, the company received reproduction rights for manufacturing and selling the potion for a twenty-year term. The patent for the formula would remain Harry’s, but both he and Grant would get a percentage of the proceeds. Grant was thrilled with the whole arrangement, which made Harry think again that he must really need the money. Harry had Neville set up a scholarship fund with whatever monies he would make on the venture, keeping a modest allowance for himself. They took Neville’s fees right off the top – Harry made sure of that. Neville was very good at what he did and Harry was going to make sure his friend received compensation for his hard work. By the end of the day, he and Grant were business partners. Grant declined coming over to the flat for dinner to celebrate, and Harry apologized for Dobby’s behavior. Grant dismissed it. “There have been a few house-elves through the years that haven’t liked me much.” “Oh? Why not?” Harry asked through the Floo. “Who knows,” Grant replied. “You know how sometimes dogs don’t like people.” Harry blinked. “House-elves aren’t dogs, Grant.” “I know that,” Grant said quickly. “Okay, that was a poor analogy. I have no idea why house-elves wouldn’t like me.” He flashed a dimpled grin. “I’m such a smashing fellow, after all.” Harry grinned back. “You keep telling yourself that.” Grant blew him a kiss. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” “All right,” Harry said and cancelled the call. Dobby was wrong. Harry was sure of it. Grant was a lot of things, but false just wasn’t one of them. *********** Grant pulled his head out of the Floo and frowned at the latest turn of events. A house-elf…a bloody house-elf. He was not going to let a stupid elf stand between him and Harry. He got off the floor and moved to his desk where their new contract sat, still gleaming with fresh ink. He was now Harry Potter’s business partner. Soon they would be lovers and soon after that they would be life partners. Grant sighed, looking over his desk to the picture hanging thereon. It was his favorite. Originally, the picture of Harry at the Death Eater trials had reminded Grant of his anger and his need for vengeance; now Grant only saw those shining green eyes and that unassuming smile. Attached to that Adonis body was a man who was not only righteous but also fair. Grant knew Harry could love him…and he would. Grant had managed to submerge himself in Harry’s life and Harry had welcomed him. Their love was meant to be. Reaching out, he touched a different picture: one of Harry out in Diagon Alley, captured by some Prophet photographer. Then there was the one taken after Harry had returned from his self-inflicted exile after he’d destroyed the Dark Lord. The one beside that was an old picture from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. The engagement picture was torn in half. At least Grant didn’t have to worry about that quarter. Lucius Malfoy was out of the picture from what he had seen. Grant reached out, touched the near perfect features smiling from yet a different picture and sighed. His Harry. Soon, they’d always be together, and no over-protective house-elf could stop them. ************ "Are you Harry Carlson?" A tall woman in her late forties barged through his front door, pushing Harry aside. Gray-salted black hair fell straight around her narrow face and thick brows arched over dark brown eyes. It was ten o’clock at night, for Merlin’s sake. “Yes. Who-" The woman spun around and seized Harry’s hand, shaking it exuberantly. “Wonderful to meet you.” She turned to glance around the flat. “Well, this is nice. Are you rich?” “I have money,” Harry replied, following the woman as she curiously toured the rooms. “Who-“ “Not that it matters. We have money enough,” she went on. “It's good to know you're not just interested in my brother for our family money. You're not, are you?” She spun around to face Harry again, looking him up and down. “You're a bit young,” she declared. “You aren't interested in the money, are you?" “N-no. Whose money?” Harry's only assurance was in knowing that the woman couldn't have gotten through the wards if she meant Harry harm. She leaned so close to Harry he had to lean away. “You look damned familiar,” she asserted. “I'll be damned if you don't.” I thought you weren't going to be a victim anymore. Harry grabbed the woman's arm. "Who the hell are you? And what do you want?" She blinked. “Didn't I say?” Harry shook his head. “Oh my. How very rude of me. Abigail Snape.” “S-s-snape?” Harry stared at her. “Yes, S-s-nape,” she replied with amusement. “Y-you're S-severus'…” “Sister,” she supplied. “And I'll be having some mighty fine words with him for not telling me about you, you can bet your last Knut on that. Of course, my little brother certainly isn't forthcoming on a lot of things but something of this magnitude shouldn't have been kept a secret.” Surprised, Harry asked, “You know?” “Of course, I know. I'm sure Severus would have taken it to the grave if he could, but I know something that Severus doesn't - or rather some one,” she said smugly. “And that would be?” “Cassiopeia Abbott, that's who.” “C-cassi?” Abigail Snape turned again from nosing around his flat. “Oh, do you know her too? Anyway, she, of course could only tell me the good news, didn't have a clue about who she was talking about. The Sight is so vague like that sometimes so it took a bit of Slytherin cunning to find out just who my baby brother was harboring this secret relationship with.” Good news? Maybe she didn’t know about the baby. “Cunning?” “Oh, yes. When one wants the truth, it is sometimes best to circumvent the actual individuals involved. Severus' godson told me quick enough. Lovely boy. Quite eager to come clean actually.” Draco? Harry could only watch and try to absorb everything that the whirlwind that was Severus' sister was saying as she flitted about the room, looking at pictures on the mantel. She didn't even look at his awards though, which Harry found odd. “He told me right where to find you. Although I'll admit I was a bit worried about the bloodline. Are you magical? Good heavens, what happened here?” She had noticed the kitchen. Since Dobby was still in the process of reconstructing it, the area was still a bit of an eyesore. “Yes, I'm magical, although I'm having a bit of problem with it,” Harry explained. “Hence the mess.” “Problem, eh? So, Carlson?” she asked, eyeing him again. “Not my real name,” Harry said cryptically. “It isn't?” “No, my real name is Potter.” Abigail frowned. “Potter? Hm, Potter…Potter? Potter? Any relation to the Scarsdale Potters?” Is she kidding? She looked perfectly serious so Harry answered, “I don't think so.” “You're not from one of those sporadic magical families, are you?” “I'm not even sure what that is.” “You did go to Hogwarts?” “Yes. I'm just having an allergy problem.” “Allergy?” she said as if affronted. “Well I'm not sure someone with such a delicate condition-“ “ Delicate?” Harry's tone got her attention. He was a bit tired of the inquisition. “I don't think Voldemort would agree with you.” Abigail gasped and then waved off the comment. “You're too young to be a Death Eater.” Harry looked at the ceiling. “Tell me Severus Snape's sister is not that stupid.” Abigail Snape’s entire demeanor changed; expression hardened and eyes narrowed. Her bearing straightened and the glare in her eyes, almost but not quite black, was very reminiscent of her brother. "Perhaps you can tell me why Harry Potter, the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor, once engaged to Lucius Malfoy, and ‘ Witch Weekly’s Hottest Young Wizard’ for two years running would be interested in my little brother?” Now that's more like it. It was true. The woman’s attitude shifted completely. Right now, she displayed the suspicion worthy of a Snape and the threatening manner of Severus himself. Harry was saved from answering by a pounding on the door. Harry glanced at the door as Abigail Snape crossed her arms. With a sigh, he moved to the door and opened it. “Potter-“ Harry slammed the door and backed away from it, his arms wrapped around his chest. Severus. The banging continued. “Open this door, Potter. Open it now and let me in. Potter!” Harry didn’t need this. He couldn’t help remembering the helplessness of his feelings as Severus had demonstrated the other night. And he certainly didn’t want a confrontation with Severus about the baby. He dared a glance at Abigail Snape. She stood, watching him intently. “Potter, let me in or I swear, I'll make this entire building transparent. You'll be living in a damned fish bowl, so help me.” Harry snorted bitterly. He already lived in a damned fish bowl. “Potter, I'm not leaving until you let me in. People are looking into the halls now. Hello, Mrs. Higgins.” She’ll talk for a week about it. Harry jumped forward, swung open the door and Severus swept in, kicking the door shut. He took Harry by the arms. “Damn it, Potter, we need to talk.” Angry now, Harry retorted, “I don't think so. Why don’t you leave me alone? You’ve become worse than a bloody stalker.” “A stalker!” Severus raved. “You little idiot. I-“ Abigail took that moment to clear her throat and Severus jumped away from Harry. “Abigail?” “Hello, Severus.” Fury gathered in his eyes. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” His sister snorted. “Oh, that's nice.” “Wait a minute.” He turned abruptly to Harry. “Cassi from the antique shop, she’s not Cassiopeia Abbott?” “Oh, so you do know…” Abigail gasped. “ You are Cassi's boss? Oh, dear.” Guess she knows about the baby now. “Well, I think I'll just let you two talk then,” Abigail said, moving to the door. “I have all the answers I need.” She spared a glance at Severus. “For now.” The door closed behind her and Severus and Harry were left staring at one another. ****** Happy valentine's day everyone!