‘Why did James Potter have to procreate?’ thought Severus Snape as he began to plan his search of London. ‘And why did it have to disappear in a muggle city? I almost think that both Potters’ have it in for me. The only thing that could possibly be worse that this is if it were James Potter, himself, that we were actually searching for.’

“Severus, I know you hated James, but please refrain from killing his son on sight. You haven’t even met the child yet, and you already have that murderous glare,” Professor Burbage, the Muggle Studies Professor, said snickering.

When Severus had first been called to the Headmasters office, he thought he would only be told, yet again, he would not be receiving the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and the Hospital Wing needed more Calming Draught and Pepper-Up Potion before the students arrived. Just the same general things he was told every year.

This year however, he had been told he had one other task that he needed to do. Find the elusive Boy-Who-Lived in Muggle London. Unfortunately, his exact location could not be properly calculated because he had no wand, and he had had no major displays of accidental magic recently. These were the only two ways that a witch or wizard could be located without delving into magic that required a specialist to perform.

Severus could already feel the beginnings of a headache blossoming in his temples. Naturally, the one branch of magic that would be dead useful in a situation like this was the one Albus Dumbledore couldn’t perform.

London was by no means a small city and finding a person in it, especially when you had no idea of his or her location, was nearly impossible. Discovering a cure for the common cold would’ve been easier by far, but Severus knew that he at least had magic on his side. Of course, he’d have to be careful as to how he used it. It would be too easy for a muggle to see him cast a standard locator or “point me” spell.

While Severus would’ve preferred finding the cure for the common cold over “Potter Searching” any day, there was absolutely no way he could ever say no to Albus Dumbledore. He owed Dumbledore his life.

“So, are we all clear on the plan?”Professor Burbage asked. “We all start from a different location that Harry was either last seen at, or a letter was sent to, and we work outward from there. He can’t have gone far in just a week or so having no money.”

Severus snorted. If he was anything like his father, he would’ve been able to just con money off of some poor old lady that thought he was, “oh so cute.”

“Now, everyone,” the Headmaster said. “Please remember that Harry has had very little contact with the magical world. He will have no idea what you are doing with your wands (should you use them), and he will also not understand what you mean when you are talking about how you are taking him to Hogwarts via portkey. And Severus, do not antagonize the boy for any injustice that his father had done to you when you were a school boy.”

The only thing Severus could do in reply was sneer. If the boy was overly sensitive when he arrived, it wasn’t going to be of anything that Severus had said directly to him. Severus had chosen to take the first location that a letter had been sent to because to the small chance of actually having to talk to the brat.

“Headmaster, I am sure that everyone here understands your concern of Mr. Potter’s welfare and willingness to become a member of the magical communities quite well by now,” Professor Burbage said, adjusting her had so it fit more snugly over her brow. The entire search party nodded in agreement, except for Severus, who just simply rolled his eyes.

“Well then, everyone grab a portkey and be on your way!” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling madly.

Severus quickly grabbed the nearest portkey and stalked to the apparation point, from which he apparated to an alley in London where the Potter clone had spent his first night alone.

As soon as he landed, Severus began to scan the alley for any living being in sight. Seeing none, he took out his wand, laid it flat on the palm of his hand and said quietly, “Point me, Harry James Potter.”

The effect was instantaneous. The wand nearly flew out of his hand as it rotated to point in the proper direction. This could only mean one thing.

Severus did not choose the right location if he wanted to avoid the son of his most hated childhood enemy. Harry was very nearby.

Muttering swear words under his breath, Severus stalked toward the section of the alley his wand had indicated. Rounding a small curve in the alley, he noticed several small alcoves. This was obviously Potter’s new domain.

It was disgusting.

After looking in only the first alcove, Severus knew the boy would need a bath as soon as they were at Hogwarts. The entire thing looked as if it had been transformed into a trash dump. The walls couldn’t be seen under all the graffiti and there was trash in it that, had Severus been mad enough to stand it, would’ve reached his thighs, if not higher. If Potter was in that mess, he would’ve suffocated long ago and there was no way Severus was going to ever pull him out.

The next two alcoves Severus checked were in much the same condition as the first. They were filthy and covered in more grime than the cauldrons after the first First Year potions class. Then he went to the last alcove and was shocked. The entire thing was clean.

Not the shiny, indoor, rich kind of clean that could only be found in places such as Malfoy Manor, but it was clean none the less. The walls had been scrubbed down so the graffiti wasn’t as visible, and all of the trash had been removed. The only thing that made the appearance of this alcove even less appealing than the previous ones was the fact that, in the very back of it, curled up next to the wall, lay a sleeping Harry Potter.

‘Honestly,’ Severus thought, his upper lip curling in disdain. ‘The boy is living on the streets and he still manages to sleep in.’

“Potter, wake up,” Severus snapped, believing the boy would just roll over and go back to sleep. That was what every teenage boy did after all.

Severus was shocked, however, when Harry’s eyes snapped open and his entire body flinched backwards into the wall, as if trying to hide. Harry’s arms also shot to cover his head and his legs curled up to his chest to protect his vital organs. The terror in his eyes was obvious, and Severus began to wonder what would cause such a reaction from a boy who had come from a doting family and had only been living on the streets for a few days.

“Potter, come here,” Severus said in the calmest voice he possessed. The boy in front of him looked as if he was going to have a panic attack at any moment.

Harry just stared at him through a small opening in his arms. Harry knew that people who talked nice generally would betray you in some form or fashion later. Besides, he had no idea as to who this man was, nor did he know what the man in front of him was saying. Harry knew that he wasn’t one of the street dwellers that he’d seen wandering around the alley recently. This man was far too well dressed for that, and he obviously didn’t realize Harry never spoke and only rarely understood what was being said, which was something nearly all of the homeless people figured out on their first meeting with him.

“Potter, I know you can hear me, now come here,” Severus said, trying to stay calm, but slowly losing his patience with the boy. What on earth was wrong with him anyway? He looked as though Severus was speaking a foreign language to him. Honestly, thinking that he could get out of talking to someone just by acting like he didn’t understand the language that was being spoken to him when the other person knew he had been raised speaking that tongue. Harry was definitely his father’s son.

Harry just continued to stare at the strange man in front of him. There was absolutely no way he was going to go over there. This man didn’t even know his name. Harry knew quite well his name was either Harry (as his teachers called him) or Freak. He could tell that the man standing in front of him was beginning to get frustrated, but Harry couldn’t tell why. The man kept saying too much and too fast without any emotion or body language for Harry to glean even the slightest bit of telling information from. For all Harry knew, this was the strange man’s alcove and he wanted it back.

Severus decided that, if the boy wanted to pretend to not understand English, he wouldn’t waste time just standing there telling him to come over.

Severus rolled his eyes, thinking, ‘I might as well just get this over and done with.’

Looking at what he could see of the boy’s face, Severus began telling him about Hogwarts in about as monotone of a voice as he could manage. Why did he have to be the one to tell the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Severus-Snape’s-Life-A-Living-Hell about a school he should have already known about?

“Mister Potter, you are a wizard. Your parents were magical as well. You are going to be attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry like your ancestors before you. Now come here so I may take you to meet the Headmaster.”

Still he received no evidence that the Potter boy had understood what he had said. Finally, Severus had had enough, stepped towards the boy, and grabbed his arm.

“When I say come here, you should listen Mr. Potter. I will put up with none of your shenanigans once we are in school,” Severus snapped, yanking Harry to a standing position and out of the shadows.

Suddenly, many of the puzzle pieces fell into place. Harry had several large, fading bruises on his neck as well as a split lip. He had obviously been hit very hard several times a few days ago, but not since then. These injuries had come from prior to him being thrown onto the street.

Being this close to another beating caused Harry to panic and think to himself, ‘He doesn’t have any reason to hurt me. He won’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me!’

In his panic, he didn’t realize he was whispering aloud.

It was then Severus heard something that made his skin crawl. Potter was whispering something to himself, and, as Severus leaned in to hear what was being said, a cold feeling over took him. He recognized that language, just as every other Death Eater did. While he didn’t understand what was being said, he did understand the implications of what this meant.

Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Figurehead of the Light Army, was a parseltongue.

Severus quickly pulled out the portkey he had grabbed from Dumbledore’s office, thrust it into Harry’s hand, and said the activation password.

Harry only had enough time to realize the strange man had given him a small glass orb and said a few strange words before he felt a huge jerk, like that of a hook, behind his navel. A few seconds later, Harry felt his feet slam into the ground, and he found himself in the strangest room he had ever seen in his life.