The world was in chaos, utter and complete chaos. Wizards and Muggles both were dying at an astonishing rate. The Dark Lord didn’t discriminate at all anymore. He killed anyone he felt like killing and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. The dark form hiding in the shadows of a pile of rubble that was once one of the many shops of Diagon Alley pondered what went wrong with the world he now dwelled in. It wasn’t something he should be doing given the fact he was now on the Dark Lords hit list. God forbid that another half blood dwell upon the earth at the same time he did.

Things steadily went downhill the moment Albus Dumbledore’s body fell off the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts with the green flash of light reflecting off the old man’s glasses as he went flying off the edge of the wall. Not long after the old man’s death the child everyone else in the wizarding world counted on to save them fell while completing whatever task Dumbledore left him with. The Dark Lord wouldn’t tell any of his willing followers what it was the boy was searching for, but he could tell what ever it was, it terrified the Dark Lord. He still believed that that day turned the Dark Lord into the utterly insane creature he was now. The boy’s death was horrific and in the end not even he could watch the tortures the boy endured. No one deserved that fate. Not even the boy’s father.

While he hid from his former master in the ruins of Diagon Alley he pondered how to fix this mess he found himself in. If he could he would go back in time and change the choices he made. He knew that with Dumbledore still alive that the world would be much better. Well England would be anyway. The Dark Lord would soon be turning his eyes towards the rest of Europe once he finished decimating the human and non-human population of England. As these thoughts ran through the thin dark clothed man’s head, he moved silently through the shadows of the ruined shopping district into the remains of Muggle London. He cautiously made his way to his highly fortified home hidden in the rubble of what was once St. Mungo’s hospital. No one would think to look for him here. Well at least none of the few survivors of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. Whether those that supported Dumbledore’s side would think to search this old crater filled with concrete rubble is another story all together. All he knew was he had to go to ground while the odd thought that entered his brain bloomed into something usable. He certainly hoped whatever it came up with would insure his survival. Not that it was much these days, thanks to his foolish choices.

Once safely ensconced in his hidden home he set a magical fire in his makeshift hearth and wondered, not for the first time, if it was worth all the effort. After all there were hardly any people left alive in the whole of England and Scotland. He wasn’t sure of the status of those in Ireland. He scrounged in the corner for the last bit of food he had in his possession and silently ate as he pondered the odd thought he had in his mind. It wasn’t until hours later that he realized that he might be able to alter what happened, but he felt he needed to go back farther than he thought he might. He didn’t need to alter his actions that led him to the Dark Lord, but alter the life of someone else. Once his plan formed in his mind he delved the recesses of his memory and recall all the texts he needed. Then he had to find the lone surviving copies of those texts. He was sure that the Dark Lord hadn’t destroyed all of Hogwarts in his madness. Some of the most dangerous texts were stored in a highly secured room in the dungeons and he knew those damp corridors very well.

The journey to Hogwarts was harrowing to say the least. He wasted several days going to ground and hiding from those searching for him. Each of those times required him to remain hidden for several days. By the time he safely reached the ruins of Hogwarts it was three months after he first set out. There were several close encounters with the few remaining Death Eaters who were tracking is apparations and one nearly fatal one with on of the remaining Weasleys. He couldn’t see clearly which of the three remaining Weasleys it was and had no interest in confronting the tall redhead. It took him several hours to find a safe way into the ruins and several more to find a clear way into the dungeons. He eventually resorted to lowering himself into the dungeons using a levitation charm. Luckily the magic containment charms were still intact on the castle and no one could tell that he was there.

Traveling through the empty damp halls brought back memories for him and not all of them were good. He reached a very familiar door and he hesitated a moment before opening the door. The images the flooded his mind as he surveyed the room behind the door nearly overwhelmed him though he subconsciously noted that not much changed in the room. It looked the same as the last time he saw it. He closed the door before he wasted more time wondering what might have been and returned to his search for the library storage room. It was many hours later and dozens of wrong turns to find the heavily shielded and spelled door that house those books deemed to dangerous for the students to even know they existed. He knew the password and unerringly made his way to the shelves that housed the books he believed he needed. He settled down on the floor after jamming his wand into a crack so that he could read the pages easily. He had no idea how much time had passed as he read through and discarded book after book. He was making slow progress as each book he read mentioned the next on his list as a reference or a suggestion for further reading.

Whether it was hours or days later he finally found the spell he was looking for. Unfortunately the power that it needed would give him away and virtually invite the Dark Lord to visit him. He debated and viewed all his options and he knew despite the number of times he examined his plan for a way out for himself that he wasn’t going to survive the inevitable confrontation with the Dark Lord, but if all went well he wouldn’t have to worry. If everything worked the way he planned then he would know the moment it started to unraveled the tapestry of time and change history. He read through the directions one more time and then pocketed the book and retrieved his wand from the floor. He retraced his steps and returned to the first room he entered. We made his way through the few scattered bits of ceiling on the floor to the desk in the far corner of the room. He gingerly sat in the chair and pulled four sheets of parchment out and a surprisingly still usable bottle of ink and began to write.

One was a list of what he needed to do, two were letters to himself and the last was a letter to the Potter boy. The three letters, once they were written, were spelled to either appear under certain conditions or to resemble the boy’s mother’s handwriting before being stuffed into parchment envelopes. He double checked his list and went to gather the items he needed to cast a spell circle for the ritual he was about to undertake. He would have to move quickly and set up in the only space in the Forbidden Forest he could think of that would be suitable for the spell. He regretted that the time spell he chose had to be cast outside. The ruins of the school would have bought him enough time to finish casting and to find a way out before he was chased down by the Dark Lord or the few Death Eaters that had escaped their master’s madness for a little bit. He’d have to take his chances and prayed to the gods he abandoned long ago for their help in setting things right.

He made slow progress back to the main floor of the damaged castle and then sought another way out of the building. He ran across the featureless grounds until he reached the burned out hut that the half-giant once lived in and then slowly eased into the shadows of the Forest. All the old trails were grown over, but he managed to slink his was through the thin gaps between the bushes until he reached the clearing he had chosen. He carefully began to drizzle the ground quartz onto the clearing’s grass and slowly a circle began to form. A mixture of herbs and magnesium formed the runes that would boost the power he summoned. He carefully made sure he did everything right, using the book to double check his work several times. He pocketed the book and carefully stepped into the circle he painstakingly drew on the slightly damp grass. Once inside he withdrew the two letters he wrote and placed them at his feet and drew his wand. He took a deep breath before starting the long and convoluted Latin phrases, making sure that he didn’t change the tempo of his chant or mistakenly mispronounce any of the words. The power that built with in the circle was greater than he imagined and it lit the clearing so that no one could see him in the center of the clearing. It was a good thing since not long after he started his chant he heard the distinctive crack of displaced air that heralded the arrival of someone via apparation. He knew who it was without being able to see the form.

He could feel the Dark Lord circling his position, but he doggedly continued his chant and by the build of power he felt as he did so he could tell that the spell was almost finished. He glanced down at his feet and saw the two envelopes glowing brightly and as he said the last syllable of the ritual he saw them disappear from the clearing. He took a moment to pray that he did it all right before turning his attention to the Dark Lord.

"So my traitor finally shows his face." The Dark Lord hissed, his manic eyes glowing brightly in the gloom. "What did you think you were going to accomplish with that little light show?"

He didn't bother answering the man he once swore to obey. He stood tall and looked the bastard in the eyes, though not without reinforcing his Occlumency shields. The Dark Lord battered his mind against his barriers, but failed to gain purchase and moments later he found himself screaming under the agony of the Cruiatus curse. The Dark Lord held him under that painful curse for several minutes and each minute felt like he was going to die. As suddenly as the pain started it ended and he lay panting on the ground before struggling to his feet to face the monster he shared the clearing with. The Dark Lord stared at him with a malevolent look in his eye. The deformed, self-styled Lord began to cast yet another spell, but stopped as an eerie feeling swept across the clearing. The Dark Lord responded with a slightly panicked look, but he felt like crying out in joy. Recent events were beginning to blur and he held his hands up to the sky and did something he hadn't done for a long, long time. He laughed.

Time was unraveling as events in the past were altered and like any good Slytherin he gave himself something as he tried to right his past mistakes. He gave himself a son. To the boy he gave something the young man never had. A Father.

The quiet morning silence of Privet Drive was ruptured by the loud yelling of an over-weight, mustached man. The object of his ire was a painfully thin young boy, who looked to be three years of age. The scrawny frame was huddled in a ball on the front lawn and despite his position one could see the wild black hair and the oversized glasses the boy wore. Moments after the yelling began the walrus-like man grabbed the tiny boy and dragged him by his oversized clothes into number four. More screaming could be heard though muffled by the walls of the dwelling. Not long after the fat man dragged the young boy into the house a bright light lit the windows from with in and on the kitchen table of number four was an old fashioned parchment envelope addressed to one Harry Potter, who happened to be the scrawny boy.

Vernon Dursley gave the envelope a fearful glance before returning his angry gaze to the slight boy he had the misfortune of calling his nephew. The little boy cowered away from the angry look he was receiving and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the letter sitting on the kitchen table. The green eyed boy could make out his name on the envelope since the print was really dark. He had just learned to read and write his name in school. He wondered what the letter said, but knew his uncle would never let him touch the envelope. While his uncle began yet another rant about his freakishness he immersed himself into his favourite fantasy. He dreamed the letter was from his parents and that it told him that they were coming to get him from the Dursleys' and that they were sorry for ever leaving him with them. He sighed when he felt his uncle grab his arm and shake him roughly. Uncle Vernon shoved him into a chair and grabbed the letter on the table and opened it at arms length, as if he was expecting in to explode. Vernon scanned the letter and a grin formed on the fat man's face and Harry wanted desperately to disappear. Any time his uncle smiled meant pain for Harry. Fortunately for the green eyed boy his Aunt Petunia and fat cousin Dudley came home. Instead of the pounding or verbal abuse he was expecting he watched wide eyed as his uncle crowed about getting rid of him. Harry didn't know what to think, but when his aunt demanded that his uncle tell her what was going on Harry listened closely as his uncle read the letter out loud.

My dearest Harry,

If you're reading this then it means I'm no longer here to see you grow and perhaps marry, but please know that I love you very much as does your father. I've had the family barrister send this once our estate was settled and especially if your godfather, Sirius Black, was some how unable to take you in. The reason for this letter is to tell you that due to a curse cast on your father that he was unable to have children without help and as a result you were conceived thanks to the help of another man who was genetically and magically compatible to your father. That man was Severus Snape and I've sent him another letter informing him of this. You're one of the few boys in the world that has two fathers. Unlike many of the other children you may know who have two fathers, you're genetically related to your second dad. I'm glad that you'll have someone who'll want you and love you for you. The reason why he wasn't the one you were sent to after your father's and my deaths is complicated. Due to Severus' job we had to wipe the memory of his contribution to our efforts in having you. I've asked him to come and get you and I know he'd jump at the chance to raise you. He was my friend once a long, long time ago and I know he's always wanted a child of his own. Be patient with your other father, Harry. He may seem cold and uncaring, Harry, but he has the truest heart I've ever met. Give him a chance to open up my son.

Yours forever,

Mum

"I wonder when that Freak is going to get this little monster." Uncle Vernon threw the letter on the table after reading it to Aunt Petunia. "We always knew you were unnatural, boy. Now we've got proof of it. Who in the world other than a freak has two fathers?"

Harry wasn't given a chance to say anything, not that they expected an answer from him. He was going to try and grab the letter when his Aunt swept it up and tore it into small pieces and tossing them into the garbage. He'd have to bide his time and fish the pieces out of the trash when he was doing the washing up. Harry wasn't left to his own devices for long. As soon as his Aunt realized that he didn't have a chore she set him to making sandwiches for their lunch. If he was lucky there would be a lunchmeat in the refrigerator that Dudley didn't like and he'd have a decent lunch for the first time this week. All week at school his overweight cousin would steal the meager lunch his Aunt sent him to school with after devouring the huge lunch that was made for him.

He quietly slide into his seat after the rest of the family sat and began to eat, though in Dudley and Uncle Vernon's case it was more like shoveling. His Aunt sat there eating a ham sandwich as if she was at a Tea with the Queen or at least a Duchess or two. Harry quietly nibbled at the small triangle of salami sandwich, a meat Dudley loathed with a passion, especially the salami with the pepper corns. As he ate his lunch, his thoughts dwelled back to the letter that Uncle Vernon read to his aunt. He wondered what this man that his mother said was coming for him was like. Would he really want Harry? When would he come for him? His mind was so full of questions that he didn't hear his uncle speaking to him until he was slapped so hard in the face that he fell to the floor.

"You will listen when I'm speaking, boy!" Uncle Vernon roared at the cowering boy. "You'll clean the kitchen. I'll come back for you when you're done, nuisance."

Harry set to washing the dishes and cleaning the table and floor as quickly as he could before his uncle returned. He really didn't want to know what his uncle had in store for him. His face hurt dreadfully and he was afraid to go to the bathroom to check. He was about to throw away the scraps of crust Dudley always left when he saw the scraps of funny paper in the garbage and remembered the letter from his mum. Quickly he gathered all the pieces he could find, hoping that he got them all, and stuffed them in the pocket of his worn, oversized clothes. He managed to throw the crusts away before his uncle came storming in. Harry quickly washed the last dish and set it in the rack after drying it. He started to turn to his uncle, but was backhanded once again as he tried to face the older man. Uncle Vernon started on his usual spiel of vitriol and Harry wondered if his other father would actually want him. How could he if his mother's family didn't want anything to do with him. For the first time in Harry in months he received a beating from his uncle instead of the occasional slap and before darkness firmly took him, he found himself being thrown into the cupboard under the stairs. Once the door was closed and locked Harry blacked out.

When the young boy work up he was in a world of pain and no position was comfortable to lie in. He listened closely to the sounds outside the cupboard and when he didn't hear anyone he began to try the cupboard door. Unfortunately for him in was locked so there was no hope of trying to sneak out and raid the refrigerator or trash for food. Harry sighed and pulled on the chain the turned the light in his 'room' on. Luckily Uncle Vernon left it in this time. Usually the fat man would take the light bulb when he was as furious as he was today. Since Harry couldn't get out of the cupboard he slowly sat up, reaching for the battered paper back book Dudley threw out several days earlier. As he did so something in his pockets crackled and when he reached in he removed many pieces of torn paper. It took his pain addled mind several minutes to remember why he had those bits and what they were. With an eagerness rarely displayed anymore, Harry quickly removed the paper and began to put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle, using the stolen cello tape he nicked from Aunt Petunia to make the pieces stay together.

He smiled happily as he finished taping the last piece to the letter. He finally had something of his mother's and he just wished that there was a picture of her so for once he'd know what she looked like. He sighed again and wondered how long he was unconscious for this time. It wasn't very often that he was beaten until he passed out, but each time he had no clue how time had passed. He hoped that the man he mother wrote about would come soon. He truly wanted to leave the Dursleys' and he didn't think this man could be any worse than his current guardians. Fear filled him when he realized that the man may not want him despite his mother's reassurances in her letter. No telling what the Dursleys would do to him if that was the case.

The days passed slowly and every time someone knocked on the door he hoped that it was Severus Snape. As the days progressed Uncle Vernon became more violent and abusive. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't hurt or sport a bruise. Harry was afraid to come out of his cupboard room and frequently huddled in the smallest part of the small space so that his uncle couldn't get a finger hold on him. He was becoming increasingly desperate and was considering running away from this house of horror. When his uncle wasn't trying to beat him to death his aunt was heaping loads of verbal abuse on him. He didn't know that was abuse, but he knew that the other kids' families didn't treat their offspring, nieces and nephews like that.

Harry's stomach was growling so loud he was surprised his uncle didn't come in to tell him to be quiet. He was too scared to come out even at night to sneak something to eat or even go to the bathroom. A couple of times his aunt tossed a couple of pieces of stale bread into the cupboard and they let him out once and a while to use the rest room. At those times he took the opportunity to fill the old thermos he found in the tiny storage room with water and drink as much as he could from the tap since he didn’t know when they'd let him out again. He just hoped he didn't wet himself since he no longer had extra clothes to wear. Uncle Vernon had taken the few extra sets of Dudley's old clothes during this latest incarceration, saying that a freak like him didn't need any extra clothes.

He hoped and prayed that the other man would come for him soon. He didn't like the dangerous glint in his uncle's eyes and everyday Harry stayed at the Dursleys' after that letter arrived, the worse that look became. Harry didn't fancy his chances of staying whole if no one came for him.

It was two weeks since the letter arrived and Harry was once again doing all the chores Dudley wouldn't do or Aunt Petunia didn't like to do. There wasn't any sign of Severus Snape and Harry didn't expect to ever see the man. Since the man never showed to take him away Vernon's verbal abuse became increasingly worse and the fat man became to abuse him far more frequently. Despite his low grades, mostly due to the fact that it wouldn't do to show Dudley up in school, Harry knew what was happening to him was wrong, but didn't bother mentioning it to anyone, figuring that they wouldn't believe him at all. He had given up hope of ever escaping his aunt, uncle and cousin and it showed in his eyes. They weren't the vibrant, healthy green they once were. Instead they were dull and shadowed. They would have looked more at home on a grizzled veteran of World War II. It was a sad state of affairs for the young boy and Harry slowly lost more and more weight as the days passed.

By the end of another two weeks Harry was nothing more than skin and bone and he hadn't been seen in school the entire time. No one questioned his absence and it afforded his uncle the chance to do more damage to his unwanted frame. He was covered everywhere with bruises. These days he didn't see the outside world at all. His routine was cleaning the house and eating what ever scraps his 'family' allowed him. It was a month after the letter came and it was a Saturday, which meant his uncle was home all day. Unfortunately he couldn't hide from the big man, who expected him to do work a work load that grown men would find difficult, let alone a small boy of five. Harry was struggling to fold the blankets that his aunt washed earlier; he wasn't allowed to touch the washer at all, while his uncle and cousin watched some type of sporting event on the telly. He wanted what he cousin had, though he didn't bother trying to sneak a glance anymore. His dull routine was interrupted when someone rang the front door bell. Before opening the door his uncle shoved him into the cupboard so no one would see how he was treated by his relatives.

He heard through the closed door his uncle inviting someone into the house. Who ever it was spoke very softly because Harry couldn't hear anything indicating someone else was in the parlour with his uncle. For the first time in weeks his curiosity was aroused and he tested the door to his cupboard. He silently made a wish and pushed on the door. To his surprise the door swung open silently. He slipped as quietly as he could and tried to ignore the dizzy spell that threatened to overwhelm him. He unfortunately was getting those more and more frequently these days. It hindered his ability to make it to the closed parlour door and it also gave him away to his uncle who came storming out of the room. It gave Harry a chance to peak at the stranger in the room. He definitely wasn't a good looking man. In fact he looked almost scarecrowish to Harry. The man had black hair that seemed very dirty since it hung in stringy hunks around his face. The man was very pale and he looked almost yellow to Harry's poor eyes. The man's face seemed to be deformed, though Harry guessed that it was because of his oversized hooked nose. What Harry could see of the rest of the man, he was tall and thin though he didn't know how much of that was due to the black clothes the man wore. He wondered who it was and why the person came here, especially given the unpleasant look on the thin yellowish face.

Harry was grabbed by the back of his neck and propelled into the hallway by his uncle's heavy hand. Vernon was getting a lungful of air to begin yelling at him when the other man entered the hallway and began to speak.

"Mr. Dursley, I'm a busy man. I do not have the time to wait while you deal with your other child." The man's voice was very soft though Harry could hear the hint of steel beneath the silky tones.

"I'm sorry Mr. Snape." Uncle Vernon said while pushing Harry's head down, but the moment Harry heard the other man's name he did his best to look up at the other man. "This one doesn't listen to anything I say and he's far more trouble than he's worth." Harry's uncle did his best to push Harry down the hall, but he was fighting as best he could.

He managed to wiggle out of Vernon's grasp since the heavy man wasn't holding on to him too tightly since there was a witness in the house. He looked up at Mr. Snape and couldn't control his expression any more. The hope he thought he successfully abandoned a while ago resurfaced and shown through his eyes. He couldn't help the pleading expression he knew was on his face when he looked up and met the darkest eyes he had ever seen. What he didn't expect was the shocked gasp Mr. Snape let out nor the look of recognition from the thin man. Even more shocking was the sudden anger that crossed the man's face and for the first time in Harry's short life that anger wasn't directed at him.

Severus Snape spent his days either at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly or at his dingy home at Spinner's End. He much preferred the quiet of his dungeons at the school despite the drawback of trying to teach idiot children the fine art of potions brewing. None of the little monsters wanted to sit and painstakingly chop, mince, crush, grind or slice all kinds of wondrous materials and combine them into the most useful substances on Earth. He didn't understand them at all and if he was honest with himself he didn't understand people in general. He didn't live the grandest of lives and the only reason he wasn't in prison with the rest of his classmates was because of the senile old coot nesting in the central tower of the school. He had foolishly joined the Dark Lord the moment he left Hogwarts as a teenager. It wasn't long before he realized that he wasn't going to get power or recognition because of his association with the last heir of Slytherin. How could he if he was always masked when he did his Lord's bidding and anyone who might have appreciated his work was killed by that same Lord and his minions. Severus wanted power mostly because of the lack of power he had during his childhood. He father and uncle were abusive and when he went to Hogwarts he was victimized by his classmates.

He only had one true friend during his time at Hogwarts, but when she started dating his chief tormentor he dissolved the friendship until he found out that the person he swore his allegiance to wanted to kill her and her tiny child. Despite his attempts to dissuade the red head to leave him alone, Lily Evans refused and continued to dog his steps. He remembered the first time she deposited her week old son into his arms at an Order meeting after he turned from the Dark Lord and how those still inky blue eyes stared at him trustingly.

It was while he was taking his trip down memory lane that a bright light filled his office, blinding him for several long minutes. When he managed to blink the tears from his eyes he looked down and saw an envelope on his desk with a disturbingly familiar handwriting on it. After making sure that there weren't any traps or poisons on the missive he slowly opened the envelope and slipped the letter out of it. He couldn't believe his eyes when he glanced at the end of the letter to see who wrote it. It was from Lily. He didn't want to read the letter, but curiosity prompted him to do so.

My Dear Severus,

Since I've charmed this letter to appear only if both James and I were dead, you obviously know what had happened to us. The reason I've sent this letter to you is because of the help you've given us. You're memory was altered in order to protect us and you, but without you our son, Harry, would never exist and that's something James and I can never repay you for. Without your potions and willingness help us after James was cursed we wouldn't have the blessing that is our son. You were the only person that was magically and genetically compatible with James to allow the Prodigy Potion to work and we're forever in your debt for giving us the chance to have a child to raise.

This letter was charmed to appear after we died and if something happened to Sirius. If those conditions are met, please take Harry and raise him as your own. He is yours too and I fear that he may be placed with my sister, Petunia. If that is the case I beg of you to take Harry from there. My sister loathes anything that is different from what the average Muggle considers normal. Please Severus. Please raise him. I know you can because I know you very well, my friend. Do it for our friendship. Do it for yourself.

Love always,

Lily

Severus put the letter down and stared blankly at the parchment for several hours before coming to his senses. Like every time he was faced with something he couldn't wrap his mind around, he retreated into his laboratory and began to work on the most complicated potion he knew. So he pulled the ingredients out of their cubbies and started the base for the Wolfsbane potion. He knew Dumbledore was considering the lone free Marauder f or a position at the school and figured that it would be a good idea to get the monster used to being on the potion sooner rather than later. As he lost himself in the rhythm of chopping and stirring, his mind returned to the letter and the information imparted to him. He couldn't decide. Should he take the boy or leave him where Dumbledore placed him. He was at a loss. What did the boy look like? Did he have any resemblance to Lily or was he a carbon copy of Potter. Would there be any sign of his participation in the boy's features or personality? His thoughts went around and around in circles until he was done with the first stages of the Wolfsbane Potion. While waiting for the potion to steep he began to really think about his choices. Would he be a good father? Definitely not. Not without outside help and who would he trust with this little revelation. Also his own parental figure wasn't the greatest example of fatherly love. He knew very well the Muggle saying about the 'sins of the father' and he was very aware of how true that statement was.

It didn't take him that long to come to a decision about the boy. He knew he couldn't take care of the boy due to his total lack of social skills, something Potter and his gang made sure he was very aware of, and he wasn't too sure about his ability to keep his temper when the little one pulled some stunt or got into something he shouldn't. No it was best to leave the boy there with Lily's sister and her family. Lily was a kind soul and it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to believe that her sister would soften her attitude now that her only sister's child had come to live with them. No he wouldn't retrieve the child. Perhaps he'll go and tell them his reasons why at a later date.

Severus went about his business without a second thought to the letter he left open on his desk. He hardly used his office during the summer months so various papers tended to be forgotten on the wooden surface he marked essays on during the school months. Severus had no further thought about the boy he helped father and frankly it didn't cross his mind until nearly a month later when a certain nosey Gryffindor arrived to make his life hell.

It was a normal day for Severus though it was marked by the impending arrival of Remus Lupin. Normally he couldn't care less about the werewolf, but since the beast was going to be teaching at the school this year he was preparing the potion that would at least keep the students safe provided the man with in the monster was still sane. He didn't keep track of the passage of time as was his wont while brewing so he was completely surprised to find Lupin sitting at his desk reading a paper on his desk.

"Do you mind, Lupin? Get your paws off my private papers." Severus snarled, but failed to get an angry response from the werewolf.

"Is this true, Severus?" Lupin responded quietly while searching Severus' eyes for the truth.

"I assume it is. Why would she write something like that if it wasn't?" Lupin was waving Lily's letter through the air the whole time.

"Are you going to get him? I remember Lily's sister from the wedding. Petunia was a foul tempered woman and she tried to hit Lily with a bottle of champagne after the ceremony."

"No."

"Why the hell not, Severus?"

"There's no way I'd be able to raise a child while teaching and I'm not going to mention my lack of parenting skills. My father wasn't the appropriate role model either. I haven't a clue as to what needs to be done and Gods forbid what would happen if the world found out an ex-Death Eater was raising their precious saviour."

"I see why you might not feel up to raising the boy, but you wouldn't be alone. I know you loathe my very existence, Severus, but I'm more than willing to help and so would the rest of the school staff."

"I still don't think it’s a good idea, Lupin. My father…"

"I've heard all the rumours about your home life, Severus. We didn't know how much to trust the school gossips when it came to you." Lupin sighed and closed his eyes for several moments. "Look, Severus, would you at least go and check up on him? I can't because of my lycanthropy. I know that the wards are keyed to that and vampires, so there's no way for me to do so. I don't trust Lily's sister."

"All right, all right, Lupin. I will go and check on the brat, but don't be surprised if I leave him there. I will go on Saturday to speak with Lily's sister and brother-in-law."

"Thank you, Severus."

"Now that you're done sticking your snout into my business, take your potion. Make sure you come back tomorrow for your next dose."

"Thank you." Lupin swallowed the foul potion as quickly as he could, but couldn't stop making a face at the bitter taste.

Severus refused to acknowledge the man any longer and left his office to return to his lab. He now had to plan what he was going to say to the Muggles on Saturday. Like any good Slytherin he was making plans with in plans, hoping to make sure he had every possible scenario covered. He wasn't ready to deal with what Lily dumped in his lap, but he had no choice, but to continue on this new course.

Saturday arrived in a rush and Severus truly wished he didn't agree to go. He gathered the only set of Muggle style clothing he owned and hoped he didn't stand out too much when he arrived in Surrey. Stifling a sigh Severus quickly got dressed and silently left his sanctuary in the dungeons of Hogwarts. He found luck favouring him when he didn't encounter Dumbledore or McGonagall on his way to the front doors. He was almost home free when he encountered that oaf Hagrid on the path to the front gates. Fortunately he rarely was polite to anyone and the dense half-giant didn't take any offence at his lack of greeting. Once clear of the gates Severus apparated away.

He arrived near the home of a squib living nearby and he hurried quickly from the area before the old woman came out to investigate his arrival. It took him a while to find the street he knew the boy lived on and even longer to find the house. He never understood why Muggles insist on putting numbers on the sides of their houses until today. The neighbourhood Lily's sister lived in had rows of identical houses and Severus guessed that it was the only way the Muggles could find their own homes. Not one of these little boxes had any character. The gardens were all mathematically correct and were the only bits of colour outside the four wheeled death traps the Muggles used as transportation.

Severus slowly made his way up the short drive once he located number four and took a deep breathe once he reached the front door before knocking. He wasn't sure what he was going to say other than he didn't want the boy. He didn't get a chance to settle upon how he wanted to tell the Dursleys that small fact, since the door was yanked open by a very obese boy with a thatch of blonde hair.

"Can I help you?" The whale like boy asked in a bored tone, which made Severus grind his teeth in frustration.

"I am Severus Snape and I would like to speak with your parents." Severus said while reigning in the desire to lecture the boy on how to address his elders.

"I'll get them." The boy left him on the porch and closed the door, causing Severus' temper to reach its limit. As Severus waited on the porch, he heard the fat boy yelling from what Severus thought was the sitting room, for his parents.

Severus waited for several moments before a heavy set of footfalls came to the door. When it opened again he saw yet another overweight person, this time several years older than he was.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" The fat man asked in a barely polite tone.

"I am Severus Snape and I'm here to discuss your nephew, Harry Potter."

A gleeful light lit the fat man's eyes as he stepped aside and opened the door wider to allow Severus entrance into his home. The Dursley man introduced his wife and son to Severus and started fawning over him like he had a fortune and was deciding which relative to leave it to when he died. He was plied with tea and biscuits and was invited to stay for dinner. The two adults wouldn't let him get a word in despite his best efforts. His tenuous hold on his temper, which wasn't the best to begin with, was rapidly eroding. By the fourth time he tried to get a word in, he'd given up being polite and began to shout.

"If you would allow me to say what I've come to…" Severus began to yell to the Dursley, but was distracted when the door leading to the foyer creaked open a bit. He couldn't see what made the door move, but Dursley obviously knew what did it. Severus was amazed to see that the man turned an interesting shade of purple about the face and he watched with wide eyes as he stormed from the room.

Severus was used to listening for small sounds despite the volume of noise about him. A skill he learned during his short time teaching. Children were rarely quiet despite any adult telling them to be silent and he had to train himself to hear the subtle changes in the potions the brats brewed to avoid the most devastating explosions. He couldn't hear a word despite his best efforts and he decided to cut this visit short. He got up, ignoring the horsy woman screeching at him, and traced the steps of the older fat Dursley.

When he entered the hallway he saw a small boy being shoved by the much larger man and realized that if he didn't prevent the obvious harangue he was taking air in for, he was never going to leave this overly common home.

"Mr. Dursley I'm a busy man. I do not have the time to wait while you deal with your other child." Severus said in the tone that he used on students in very deep trouble.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Snape." Dursley said while trying to push the small boy's head down. "This one doesn't listen to anything I say and he's far more trouble than he's worth."

Severus watched as the fat man tried to push the painfully thin boy down the hall, but the child wasn't cooperating at all. Severus frowned as the boy managed to escape his uncle. The child looked up and Severus couldn't help noticing the hopeful look on the boy's face. Then he took a very good look at the child and as he did so a gasp escaped his lips. The child was the boy he didn't wish to raise and the child's face was littered with bruises. Anger crept into him and he turned his attention to the fat man behind the boy.

"I will be taking my son with me now. This will not be the last you'll hear from me. I will be back with the appropriate authorities." Severus snarled, making Vernon Dursley wet his pants in fear. Turning to the young boy, who still was looking hopefully up at Severus, "Get your things together, Harry. We are leaving."

Severus watched as the boy ran further down the hallway and ducked into the small storage room under the stairs. He watched in shocked surprise as the boy came out of the closet with a tatty backpack that looked like it had very little in it. Clutched in his small hands were two rolled up pieces of paper that looked like they came out of a muggle lined notebook. Severus steeled himself from exploding in anger as he realized the implications of what he just saw, but reined in his temper once again. It wouldn't do for him to kill the fat bastard sharing the hallway with him. Harry wouldn't be any better off if Severus got himself thrown in Azkaban for painting the corridor with Durlsey's blood.

When Harry stepped into the light in the poorly lit hall, Severus noticed the boy's clothes for the first time. They were greyed in age, raggedy and nearly five times too large for the boy. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and held out his other hand for the boy to take. Without another word he led the child out the front door and down the street. Eventually he realized that he was walking to fast for the boy and awkwardly picked the small child up and carried him beyond the wards on Privet Drive. He frowned at how light Harry was, before turning his concentration towards apparating to his small home.

Once he was safely ensconced in his heavily warded, but shabby home he took a good look at the boy. Harry looked remarkably like James Potter. So much so that if he saw the boy for the first time at age eleven he would have instantly hated him, but now given a long unprejudiced look at the child he could see a lot of Lily in him. Unfortunately he didn't see any trace of himself in the boy, though he wasn't surprised at that lack. The potion he most likely brewed to help produce the child was notorious for it randomness when disturbing genes. Sometimes it completely obliterated any physical presence of one of the parents or on other occasions made an absolutely perfect blend of all three sets of genes. Perhaps the child inherited his gift for potions and his intellect, not that his mother was brilliant in her own right. Harry was painfully thin and Severus could see that the bruising on his face was much more extensive that he initially thought and he wasn't looking forward to examining the rest of the boy. He feared seeing how much worse the rest of the child was.

Severus braced himself and pulled the boy's shirt off and despite his best efforts another gasp escaped him. He quickly pulled his wand and cast a diagnostic charm on the child. After surveying the results Severus decided to take his chances and gather the potions from Pomfrey at Hogwarts than take the time to brew them here. He would need to take Harry shopping for proper clothes tomorrow and there was no way he was taking the child out in that state.

"Harry, I need to contact someone at the school I work at for some medical potions for you. Please wait here for me."

"Yes, sir." Harry replied quietly with his eyes downcast.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Harry. No one will harm you here." Without waiting for another response from Harry, Severus heading into his kitchen and lit the rarely used fireplace in it.

"Poppy Pomfrey, Hogwarts Hospital Wing," he intoned after throwing the greyish floo powder onto the flames. Once they turned green he knelt in front of the fire and stuck his head into the fire and called for the medi-witch.

"Severus! What's wrong? What do you need?" The motherly witch asked the moment his heard his voice.

"Poppy I need some of the potions from the stores. I require skelegrow, bruise salve, which every wound cleansing potion you can spare and several bottles of nutrient potion."

The medi-witch didn't argue with him, thankfully. She simply handed the potions through one at a time until he had everything he needed. He thanked the witch and withdrew his head from the fire. In his haste to attend to his son, he never noticed that the fire didn't return to its normal colour. He was so absorbed in taking care of Harry that he didn't hear footsteps following him into his sitting room.

"What happened to that child?"