It was Saturday morning during breakfast when Cathy mentioned school.

“On Monday, you’ll start attending the school up by my parent’s house. Cleveland Primary the closest one around here and everything has been worked out so you can attend it. I go back to work on Monday as well, so my father will be there to walk with you to their house. It’s a really simple route so you shouldn’t have any problems walking there on your own in the future. Now that I think about it, have I even told you what I do for a living?” Cathy asked Harry.

Harry shook his head with a mouth full of cereal. It was the good kind with mini marshmallow type of pieces in it. He simply loved it!

“Oh. I thought I did at some point.” She smiled sheepishly. “Well, when I was younger, I had a fascination with languages so I attended college and studies several foreign languages. I loved using my hands to speak so I majored in sign language interpretation. My current occupation is a sign language interpreter for the deaf and hard of hearing.”

“What does that mean you do?” the eight-year-old asked curiously.

“One of the main things that I do is to attend trials and interpret for people. If a deaf or hard of hearing person is on the stand giving a testimony, I will interpret their signs and tell the people in the courtroom.”

“Can you teach me something in sign language?” Harry asked excitedly. It would be neat to learn another language or at least a couple of words.

Cathy demonstrated by placing her right hand fingers tips to her lips with her palm facing her chin. She then moved her hand away from her face with her palm upwards. Harry imitated her actions and she smiled.

“What did that say?” he asked eagerly.

“That meant thank you,” she replied. “I’ll teach you more later but we should get ready to go.”

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping,” she replied happily. Harry looked at her confused. What more did he need? “We will be getting you school supplies.”

“Oh! Okay.” He rinsed his bowl in the sink and placed it in the dishwasher before dashing upstairs.

After they both dressed, they got into Catherine’s car and drove off. Cathy’s house was in London so there were plenty of stores close by that sold school supplies. She insisted on buying plenty of everything which meant lots of paper, pencils, pens and erasers. Harry found and picked out a dark blue backpack that came with a matching lunch box. After an hour of shopping around, they finally left. They had just stepped outside when Harry ran into someone.

Severus Snape was walking along through muggle London. He hated it down here but one of the best apothecaries was hidden in the muggle world. He was walking along when he ran into some kid exiting a store.

“Watch it,” he snapped. He never did like the little brats. The small dark-haired child flinched away but he did not notice because he was too busy staring in shock. It was the Brat-Who-Lived! Here in London of all places. The kid looked exactly like his arrogant father and had that famous scar of his must be hidden beneath his messy mop of hair. Snape sneered at the boy and his –aunt?—before stalking off.

Severus reached the apothecary in record time since he angrily stalked through the streets. Seeing that brat brought back bad memories of the oh so wonderful and perfect James Potter. The kid would probably be just like his father! A small voice in the back of his mind pointed out that the brat didn’t even know his father but he shushed it. The kid’s aunt probably told stories about his parents and spoiled him rotten.

Snape quickly chose his ingredients before striding out of the store. His trip was ruined after seeing Potter Jr. He stepped into an alley before apparating off. Usually it wasn’t safe in case a muggle caught sight but he didn’t care at the moment. He just wanted to make it back to his lab and start a potion. Just as he entered the school, he ran into Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus blah blah blah Dumbledore. That man had entirely too many middle names!

“Good afternoon Severus,” the old coot greeted.

“Afternoon Headmaster,” Snape drawled. “You should know I saw your precious Potter today.”

The headmaster looked surprised. That was shocking since the man seemed omnipresent.

“And how did young Mr. Potter look?” the older man asked with that damned annoying twinkle in his eyes. Was that some kind of disorder or something?

“Peachy.” The headmaster gave him a look and he mentally rolled his eyes. Of course, if he actually rolled his eyes, people would probably freak out if he acted so humanlike. Those rumors were certainly spreading extremely quickly about him being a vampire. Maybe he should give them a show and drink some dark red liquid and-

“Severus,” the headmaster pulled his attention away from the joyful thoughts of tormenting the children.

He sighed. “The brat was fine. He was with his aunt I believe and they appeared to be,” he grimaced in distaste, “school shopping.”

The coot’s eyes twinkled further. He must take sadistic pleasure in making people uncomfortable at times.

“Good, good. I have not heard from Arabella in quite some time so it’s good to know things are going well.” Who was this Arabella? The coot must have seen his expression and answered his unasked question. “She is the squib that I have watching over Harry.”

What? No full team of aurors watching the brat daily to make sure he remains in one piece and received everything he could possible want? He sneered in disgust at the thought. That’s all the brat needs are more people to enhance his ego.

“May I be excused Headmaster? I’d like to get started on my work.” He really didn’t want to talk anymore about that Potter brat. It would only be a couple more years before the kid showed up for his first year.

“Of course, Severus.” The coot smiled and walked on. Now what potion should I start?

They had just exited the store when Harry ran into a tall older gentleman.

“Watch it,” the man snapped. Harry flinched away from the intimidating dark-haired man. Before Harry had the chance to apologize, the man stalked off.

“Come on, Harry,” Catherine said. Apologizing was one thing that her adopted son constantly did. She had tried to convince him that he didn’t need to apologize for every little thing but didn’t have too much luck yet. With time, he’d learn it was okay not to say sorry five times for something.

The car ride back was mostly in silence, except for the sounds coming from the radio. She had seen the boy flinch away from the man and knew from talking with Harry that this Vernon character he mentioned caused him to shy away from men in particular.

When they got back to their home, she sent him upstairs with his supplies. She’d let him rest for a bit before talking about his fear of men. She sat down in her recliner, leaned back and it wasn’t much longer before she dozed off.

A while later, the sound of something falling and glass breaking woke her up instantly. She sat up and saw Harry trying to pick up the broken glass pieces with his bare hands. She could already see blood from where he’d cut his hands.

“Harry! Stop, you’re hurting yourself,” she tried to pull his hands away from the broken picture frame glass. When she touched him, he flinched violently and curled into a ball.

“ ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t hit me. Please, I‘m sorry,” he cried.

Catherine’s heart went out to this poor little boy. It broke her heart to see him like this. She silently cursed the atrocious people who cause this child to get so distressed over broken glass.

She carefully gathered the boy in her arms and held him, ignoring the fact that he tensed. She rubbed his back and murmured soothing words until he calmed down.

“It’s okay Harry. Don’t worry about the glass. You’re not in trouble,” she whispered in his ear.

“ ‘m sorry, Cathy. I tripped and my hand accidentally hit the frame. It fell and broke,” Harry stammered out.

“Don’t worry about the frame. May I please take a look at your hands?” Harry slowly extended his arms. He had two cuts on his left hand but they weren’t serious enough to require stitches. Catherine gently led him into the bathroom, cleaned up his cuts and bandaged them. She then led him back in the living room and they both sat down on the sofa. She kept her arm around him and held him closely.

After several minutes of sitting there quietly, she asked. “Do all older men scare you?”

Harry looked up at her sharply before turning his gaze down. “I-um, not really. Just some,” he whispered.

“Is it because Vernon used to abuse you?” Harry noticeably flinched at the term abuse.

“I-it wasn’t abuse,” he protested weakly. “He was just punishing me when I did something wrong.”

Catherine scowled, but Harry didn’t see since he was looking down. This child should not be standing up for that horrid man. There are no excuses for hurting a child!

“What horrible thing did you do wrong that caused him to dislocate your arm?” she asked with emphasis on ‘do wrong’. From what she’d heard from Harry, everything he did was wrong in their eyes.

Harry tensed. He didn’t know that she knew about that. Ms. Morgan must have mentioned it to her before he was adopted. But he couldn’t tell her about him freakishly growing back his hair. He’d only been here less than a week and didn’t want to leave. Harry kept his head down and didn’t answer the question.

Catherine knew she shouldn’t have asked that last question. One last question to ask that had been bothering her for a while.

“Harry,” she began cautiously. “Did Vernon ever touch you inappropriately?”

Harry looked at her confused, but then his eyes widened when he caught onto her meaning. “No! He’d never touch a freaky ugly boy like me,” the boy declared vehemently.

“I’m sorry for asking you these questions,” Catherine apologized. “I guess I just needed some reassurance that he never did anything like that.”

“It’s okay,” the boy replied quietly. “I know your asking because you-you care.” The last word was whispered, as if he was hoping she wouldn’t deny feeling such a thing for him.

Cathy smiled and placed a kiss on top of his head. “I do care for you Harry. Very much so. My parents care for you already too, you know.”

“The people you lived with… were they your parents?” Catherine asked after a moment of silence.

“No. My parents died in a car crash when I was younger,” he added sadly.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” That means Vernon wasn’t his father. Perhaps he’s Harry’s grandfather or uncle? She wanted to ask but she knew how tight lipped he was when talking about them. He only referred to those atrocious people by their first names.

“Well you should run upstairs and wash up. My parents are stopping by tonight and they’re bringing something for us to eat.” She glanced at the clock. “They should be here in a bit.”

Harry nodded and dashed upstairs to clean up a bit before dinner. Cathy remained on the couch for a moment, rubbing at her temples. Slowly, but surely, she was making progress with Harry and getting him to open up. Only time will help him with his past.

“Hey Harry,” Cathy greeted the sleepy boy that walked in for breakfast that Sunday morning. “Good morning.”

“G’mornin’,” he grumbled out. Last night he hadn’t slept too well, not that Cathy knew of course. He was used to keeping quiet after having bad dreams since his uncle always told him to keep quiet and stop crying or ‘else I’ll give you something to really cry about.’

Harry picked at his breakfast, not feeling like eating much. Nightmares always left his stomach churning in fright and worry that his uncle would find him or that Cathy would start treating him like his relatives used to.

“Harry?” The boy looked up and met the concerned gaze of Cathy before looking away. “I have some errands to run and I’ll need you to come with me.”

“Okay. When do you want to leave?” the eight-year-old asked.

“I’d prefer to get things done and out of the way before it gets too late. I have work tomorrow and you have your first day of school as well.”

Harry grimaced slightly. He loved school but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fit in. He never did in his old school, but then again, Dudley was there. This time, no cousin to mess things up so maybe he’d make a friend?

“I’ll go get ready then since I’m finished,” Harry said as he rinsed his plate off.

Cathy watched the young boy go, wondering what was on his mind this morning.

Several hours later, Cathy and Harry were found sitting in the car. All the errands that Catherine needed to run were done so they were heading to lunch before going back home. After quiet lunch, they hopped into the car. Before starting it, Cathy noticed a sign across the street advertising for a local haircut business. She paused and looked over at Harry’s messy mop of hair.

“Hey Harry.” He turned his bored gaze from the window towards her. He really had behaved well today even though he was undoubtedly bored with her running all of these errands.

“When’s the last time you had a hair cut?” she asked. She noticed the boys eyes widened and a panicked look entered his eye. He seemed to curl into himself protectively and started mumbling under his breath.

“Nooo… please, I didn’t mean to do it…”

Catherine was very shocked. What brought this on? Had something happened the last time he had a haircut. She reached over and began rubbing soothing circles on his back. When she first touched him, he flinched away violently but there was no where for him to go in the car. After a while, he began to lean into the touch and slowed his frantic breathing.

“Are you okay now, Harry?” Cathy asked. She was worried for the boy and distraught over what could have happened to him that caused such a reaction.

“Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. His face burned with shame over his reaction and he mentally scolded himself. He was not with the Dursleys and had tried to remember that. When Cathy mentioned a haircut, he had freaked out, thinking of the last time he had one, curtsey of his aunt. It had been truly a dreadful cut and then of course afterwards when it grew back and what his uncle did- he stopped those thoughts instantly.

Once he was thinking rationally again, he realized that Cathy wouldn’t do that to him. If she made him get a haircut, surely she wouldn’t cut it all off? She just wasn’t that type of person to do that. He decided to try and put some trust in her and let her do it. If it looked bad, well then oh well. He was used to kids making fun of him anyways. She wouldn’t find out about his freakish tendencies since he’d make sure his hair wouldn’t grow back no matter how bad the cut.

He turned his green eyed gaze to hers. She looked worried over his freak out.

“I-,” he began hesitantly before clearing his throat. “I didn’t have a good experience last time I had a haircut. I’m sorry for freaking out. You can c-cut my hair if you’d like.”

Catherine wanted to ask more on this subject but chose not to. She’d try and talk with him later this evening. “It’s okay Harry. I wasn’t going to cut it myself since you’d probably end up bald,” she joked but then noticed how he grimaced instead of laughing.

“Anyway, I just saw that advertisement over there,” she pointed to the sign, “and I thought we could stop by there. All they’d do is trim your hair. Not much else.”

Harry bit his lip and thought it over. There was a better chance that it wouldn’t look so bad if a professional cut it. He nodded his head in agreement.

“Do you feel up to getting it done now? I mean you do start school and all tomorrow,” Cathy suggested.

“Okay,” Harry replied. He followed Cathy out of the car and they crossed the quiet street. A bell sounded as Catherine pushed open the door. It was pretty quiet in the shop.

“Hello there. What can I do for you today?” A young woman greeted from the counter.

“May I use the restroom first?” Harry whispered to Cathy. She nodded and pointed to the door with the bathroom sign on it.

“My adopted son needs a haircut,” Catherine began. “The people he lived with before caused him to have a bad experience with a haircut so he is very nervous.”

The other woman nodded sympathetically. “Okay then. My last client cancelled so I have time to squeeze him in. What did you want done to his hair?”

“Just a quick and easy trim. His hair is getting quite long and he starts school tomorrow so a haircut is a good idea right now.” Cathy replied.

Harry then returned to the talking woman and he still looked particularly nervous. “Well let’s get your hair washed up first.” The woman suggested. Harry made no move to follow her. He was looking at Cathy, wanting to ask her to stay with him but couldn’t bring himself to ask that of her. She probably wouldn’t like it if he was always so clingy.

The hairdresser, seeing the problem, stepped in. “You can come too,” she said to Cathy, who smiled and followed the woman back with Harry trailing next to her.

Harry sat down in a chair, which leaned back and his head rested in a sink. He concentrated on breathing normal as the lady soaped and rinsed his hair. So far, it wasn’t too bad.

After washing and conditioning his hair, he was led to another chair and watched in the mirror as the hairdresser pulled out her scissors. Looking through the mirror, he could see Cathy sitting not too far behind him, which caused him to relax slightly. Even though he’d only known Cathy for a week now, he felt that he could count on her to keep him safe.

The hair stylist approached him slowly and pulled up a portion of his hair and snipped it off. He tensed and clenched his hands tightly into fists, leaving red half moon shapes imprinted in his palm. The woman continued working around, snipping off bits and pieces here and there. It was nothing like this haircut with his aunt. She had aimed to remove it, no matter how it looked. This woman was taking her time, cutting it precisely and making it look good. It didn’t take long before Harry was relaxing and no longer freaking out over the haircut. A short while later, it was all over and the two headed back to the car.

“Was that okay?” Cathy asked worriedly. Harry looked fine and more relaxed that he was earlier but he thought she’d make sure.

“Yeah,” Harry replied gracing her with a shy happy smile. She smiled back.

That evening before bed, Harry practiced making sure his new haircut would stay. Several days ago, he began creating a new image which was what he’d look like if he was Cathy’s real son. He’d gotten the hang of narrowing his face finally without getting overly tired when practicing that.

With only the mirror as a witness, he transformed his face into that of what he’d look like if Cathy was his real mum. When ‘wearing’ this face he became Cathy’s biological son, as he liked to pretend. This face didn’t have an uncle who hated him. This face didn’t have a cousin who used to bully him. This face didn’t have the aunt who used to starve him. This was the face of who he wanted to be.

Harry sighed and regretfully changed his face back, making sure his new haircut appeared as before. He really liked it and would try to make sure it always stayed like that. No need for future haircuts because if Cathy liked it, then he’d be able to keep it that way to make her happy.

He left the bathroom and crawled in his bed. He felt around until his hands brushed against the stuffed teddy bear. He pulled it close to his chest and hugged it.

Cathy came in a few moments later and began her usual routine of tucking him in.

“Are you all ready for school tomorrow?” she asked.

“I’ve got all my supplies organized in my backpack,” Harry answered tiredly.

“Okay then. I’ll see you in the morning.” She kissed his forehead. “Good night.”

“Night,” came the sleepy response.

“Class,” the teacher got the students attention. “This is Harry McKinney. He is new here and I hope you all will welcome him and show him around.” Harry fidgeted as he stood next to the teacher. All the students were staring at him and it unnerved him. He didn’t like being stared at so he looked down to avoid their gazes.

“You can sit over there, Harry.” The teacher pointed to an open desk and Harry quickly walked over to it and sat down. It was going to be a long first day.

Harry’s first day at Cleveland Primary school went by slowly but the final bell sounded and he went outside to look for Nick. The older man was talking with someone so he went and stood by him quietly until he was noticed.

“Is this the grandson you were talking about?” The man Nicholas was conversing with inquired.

“Yes,” Nick declared proudly. “This is Harry. Harry, this is a neighbor of mine, Charles.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” Harry said as he extended his hand and shook with the other man.

“I’ll talk more with you later, Charles. I’ve got to show Harry how to walk to my house.” Nick stated as he placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Bye Nick, bye Harry,” Charles said. Harry gave him a small wave as he followed Nicholas.

“So how was your first day at school?” The older man asked.

“It was okay,” Harry stated clearly. He remembered how Nick liked when people spoke loud and clearly to him. “The class work seemed a bit easy though.”

“Then you shouldn’t have any problem with your homework. We cross here,” the blue eyed man pointed to the crosswalk where a school safety person was standing and making sure children didn’t run into the street.

The two crossed the street and walked up two blocks. As they walked, Harry talked about a few people that talked to him in class today. He hadn’t said much, since he was extremely nervous with this being his first day and all.

“It’s just-” Harry began but paused for the right words. “I’ve never had friends before,” he revealed softly, but loud enough for Nick to hear. “I-I don’t really know what to say to them when they talk to me.”

“You don’t really need to think about what to say, it should just come out,” Nick clarified. “Talking should be natural not forced. Just start with something easy like asking what their favorite sport team is or something.”

“I don’t even have a favorite team,” Harry murmured to himself more than Nick, but the older man still heard.

“You don’t have a favorite team?” the retired military man asked in surprise.

Harry glanced at him quickly as they walked before looking away. “I wasn’t allowed to watch TV at the Dur--, um, with the people I lived with before.”

“Well, I happen to be a sports fanatic so it won’t be long before you are fully educated with all the best sport teams around.” Nicholas announced.

Harry smiled. It was nice having Nick around. Despite the fact that he was an intimidating man, Harry grew to like him. He had a funny sense of humor and always had good stories to tell about his time in the American military.

“Pay attention,” Nicholas commanded and Harry looked up. “This is the street you turn down. It’s the third block down. My house is just down here. Will you be able to find it tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “It’s not too hard to find at all.”

“Just remember up two blocks from the school, make a right and go down three more blocks before you get to my street.” Nick explained. “Take another right onto my street and here we are.”

They stopped in front of a nice soft yellow colored house. The front of the house was nicely done. The lawn was mowed, the flowers were blooming nicely and everything looked wonderful. Nick led him inside and they both removed their shoes before stepping on the carpeted area. Harry was given a short tour of the small home before he sat down at the table and began his homework.

The assignments were easy so he breezed right through them. Once he was finished, Nick insisted on looking over everything to make sure it was right. Harry nervously handed him the paper, hoping that the man wouldn’t think he was stupid if there were any errors.

“Well done, Harry,” the older man praised and Harry’s eye lit up with surprise. “Only one error here on this math problem.” He pointed to which one and explained what Harry did wrong. After a quick correction, Harry placed his homework back in his satchel.

“Come watch some TV with me Harry. I’m sure we’ll find some sports on here somewhere.” Nicholas began flipping through channels as Harry sat down next to him. Harry wasn’t as nervous sitting next to him as the first time he met the man but he was still slightly cautious.

“Wow, absolutely nothing good on,” Nick commented as he shut off the TV. “Well then, how about a story?” Harry nodded excitedly. He loved hearing stories from Nick because he told them so well.

Nick began another one of his great adventurous tales. “There was this time I…”