This was probably the eight night in a row that he could not sleep. The first two he had tossed and turned on his bed fighting for sleep. By the third, it was clear that he needed to do something more productive than lying awake in bed. At his age, 150 years, Albus Dumbledore really did not need more than four hours of it; but still he had to rest at some point. The old headmaster opted that day for roaming the deserted halls and corridors of Hogwarts, letting his mind wander to the things that kept him worried and awake.

The most important of those being that Severus Snape was exposed as a spy. Not that he had that much time to start spying for him. It was a little bit more than a month since he asked the younger wizard to return to his active spying days at Voldemort's side. To give his Potions Master credit, he had accepted to take the risk without question. They knew getting back into the Dark Lord's most trusted ring was not going to be an easy task. Back then, after Voldemort's first defeat at Lily's and Harry's hands, Albus had vouched for Severus. The Ministry Aurors captured him, charged the younger man with being a Death Eater, and sent him to Azkaban without a trial. His word eventually saved him from a 'Dementor's Kiss' but he still spent six months in that prison.

Since Voldemort's return Snape had been out almost every night on errands and missions for the Dark Lord. It had been hard, most of the times he returned suffering from the after effects of the Cruciatus curse, or mauled after participating on one raid or another, and on top of that, he had to prepare poisons and torture potions for Voldemort. Severus was being cautious with his reports; he did not want to seem too obvious, as there was one of Voldemort's own spies set in the Ministry that insisted the teacher was betraying his calling; this only complicated the situation for him. For a couple of days the Potions Master had to comply to the crazed Dark Wizard's every command even if it meant participating more actively on the raids and tortures -as much as doing this sickened the wizard- it was important to gain Voldemort's trust.

Things started to become quite difficult not just for Severus, but all the other Death Eaters as well, as some of their victims started to disappear surrounded by a bright white light. Voldemort had punished all his followers present first, and then asked questions. Unfortunately, no one had the answers he required. With all the wards and protections cast in their hide-out it should have been impossible to apparate from the place, yet the only conclusion they reached was that the prisoners, even the muggle children, were being apparated somewhere else.

As part of his work and his effort to gain the Dark Lord's trust, Severus and Dumbledore agreed to divulge the information that their prisoners were appearing outside of Hogwarts; it was an effort to move the Potions Master back to his former place in the circle. But for the spy, the fact that they were reappearing outside the school grounds produced the contrary effect he expected. Voldemort grew even more distrustful as more captives escaped, although it was never more than two per session.

A week ago, it reached the point where the Dark Wizard decided he could do without a Potions Master as skilled as Severus after Lucius Malfoy insisted he was the spy. Malfoy and his goons tortured Snape in hopes of getting a confession before presenting him to Voldemort; but he remained quiet and did not give in even when they finally dragged him to the Dark Lord. Voldemort tried to break him too, by Cruciatus and Imperius , but he had no success either. He decided that using the Avada Kedavra was too good for a traitor and was going to kill Severus by Cruciatus , a most painful and slow way. The white light appeared, protecting him, soothing his wounds, and aching muscles. Then, just as he passed out, Snape saw his surroundings disappear.

To everyone's surprise, and complete bafflement Severus appeared inside Hogwarts infirmary with a resonating ‘pop' that drew the attention of Madame Pomfrey to his arrival. No one could explain how he managed to be there without setting the school's apparition alarms. Hogwarts had especial protection, and no one could apparate either in or out. A thorough revision of the defenses shed no light. The wards and charms were in place, and were not removed or tampered with.Snape was unable to provide any information on how he escaped, he had been too far gone in pain to notice much.

There were other cases beside his, but the differences between them and him were rather impossible to ignore. Unlike the muggles or wizards rescued, Severus was also partially healed by this light. The others only reported, feeling comforted an underlying current of guilt, sadness, sorrow, and frustration. This only happened for those saved that had family or friends left in the hands of ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. They all agreed that it felt as if whomever or whatever that light was, ‘it' was apologizing for being unable to save them all, and even the most grief stricken of the victims could not blame ‘it' as the feelings were overpowering. It did the best that it could and they were alive.

These strange occurrences were also part of the reason why Albus could not sleep, but he had no leads as to what this phenomenon was, or why it was happening. Only that Voldemort did not like it at all, and anything that saved lives and spoiled some of his plans was helpful in Dumbledore's opinion. Another of his worries was Harry, ever since the Dark Lord obtained a body he had been having visions because of the connection the scar on his forehead created. Yet, he had not heard from the boy once since he went to his relative's home about a month ago. He deemed this strange, he knew Voldemort had been quite busy so far, but he still had no letter from the Harry.Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley -his best friends- wrote him not two days past expressing their concern for Harry's well being. They both implied that the boy's relatives were not kind to him.

Worry for the boy was starting to take precedence above all else, especially now that Severus was safe in Hogwarts grounds and recuperating at an accelerated pace. The day before Dumbledore checked the crystal sphere(1) where he measured the strength and condition of the protections surrounding the home of Harry's relatives. They began to weaken at an incredibly fast pace. In addition, there was no explanation as to the reason why. If the weakening kept going at that rate, there would be no protection standing by September 1.

There was still a whole month left before the term started, but he did not want to wait until the wards had given up completely. It was imperative that he found a safe place for 'the-boy-who-lived'. He did not think sending him to live with the Weasleys would do. They had enough with all their children, even if they considered Harry an honorary member of the family and Molly Weasley would mother the boy as if he was one of her own.

The Burrow had some protection, but it would not hold against a full-blown Death Eater attack. The same would happen to the Granger house, with the added inconvenience that Miss Granger's parents were muggles and they would not be able to defend themselves. Because of this, her home was also out of the equation. His other option would be for the boy's Godfather to take him, but that was neither safe nor possible. As long as Sirius was still considered an escaped convict, he could not take his responsibilities as godfather. Besides, Mr. Black usually let his temper get the better of him, and he was not a prudent man. The risk of leaving Harry under his protection was far too much.

All that thinking left Albus with the conclusion that he needed to find someone to act like the equivalent of a muggle bodyguard. In the process of keeping his/her charge safe, this wizardor witch should also be able to teach the boy how to protect himself. However, finding a capable witch or wizard that also had his complete trust seemed like it might end being a monumental task. Although this seemed like the most viable option. He sadly concluded that no matter where he put Harry, the boy would never be truly and completely safe, even if Hogwarts was still the place with more safeguards.

His mind pondered on the problem at hand, at the time he began analyzing possible candidates for the post. He had reached the end of the hall, where large windows stood facing east. The light hues of dawn were appearing and he paused for a moment to enjoy the breath-taking view of another dawn. He leaned against the side of the window as the grounds began to fill with light. It was then that he noticed the grey clad figure running just inside the castle wards following their outline.

For a few tense seconds he observed the figure's progress, the tension left as soon as his vision improvement charm let him recognize the runner. A soft chuckle escaped his lips and his eyes twinkled with merriment. He had done it again. It was uncanny how Severus Snape managed to escape the infirmary when HE deemed he was healthy, regardless of what Poppy thought. The younger wizard usually tried escaping several times before he was healthy, but it was probably just to amuse himself at the medi-witch antics. She was always so overprotective with her patients, especially the Potions Master who after all his years in Hogwarts still had the dubious honor of possessing the largest record of visits or stays in the infirmary. It was a shame too that his closest competitor was a boy by the name of Harry Potter, who happened to be another victim of the medi-witch overprotective manners.

Outside, Severus had stopped running near the quidditch field, and was doing what appeared like stretching exercises. Probably getting ready for some of those Martial Arts movements he seemed so fond of performing. Albus had always wondered where the younger wizard had learned that particular fighting technique. Most pureblood wizards did not bother learning any other fighting skills besides how to duel with a wand. Although he had to admit that because of this particular form of exercising, Severus was considered in his youth among the top duelists, and not just because of his ability with a wand.

Most of his students would never believe the Potions Master to be a man that liked to perform physical activities, especially outside. The fact that one of his many monikers was ‘overgrown bat', was proof enough that the thought that he did anything else but spend time in his dungeons had not crossed their minds. In fact, Severus encouraged this belief with his acting, and some Glamorie . He just looked pale, greasy, and thin, always had a sour expression on his face to add with his rather disagreeable personality, which sadly was not a complete act. But the performance was needed after the war since he kept indirectly spying the Death Eater families that had avoided Azkaban. There had been more than enough talk over the years of either finding Voldemort or finding someone suitable to become a Dark Lord. Severus information had always helped to thwart any attempt.

The younger wizard did have one hell of a temper, and was not very patient with incompetence. He was sarcastic by nature, bitter by what life dished out for him, his stubbornness could compete with any Gryffindor's, and he was not a trusting man. The contempt and superiority complex were an act though, for the benefit of his Slytherins. But there were good traits to him that he usually kept well hidden behind cold walls. He was as loyal as a Hufflepuff once he had decided to grant someone with his trust, and he was brave even if he denied it. There was no denying his high intelligence, the Sorting Hat had once commented he could have been in Ravenclaw, he was one of those few could have been in all houses, but it had been Severus' cunning that finally convinced 'it' to put him in Slytherin.

The younger wizard did have a sense of humor, although so far, only very few people had been privy of that. When he was a teen studying at Hogwarts, the only one of the Snapes to do so, he had quite a mischievous streak. He returned almost all the pranks the marauders played on him without missing a beat. Since Severus Snape first came to him for help, wanting to turn sides so many years ago, the elder wizard had grown fond of him. The younger man became the son he never had. As 12 daughters and three wives throughout his life were enough to tax the patience of a saint. And Albus Dumbledore was a good man but not a saint.

The headmaster kept watching the figure in the field, at first he could tell he was rather stiff, and having some trouble but as he worked through his routine, the movements flowed with grace and power. He sighed, working the kinks of joints and muscles suffering from the after effects of the cruciatus curse, was a hard and mostly painful job. He could only imagine how it hurt for Severus. Since the beginning of the summer, Voldemort subjected him to the curse almost on a daily basis; and it was only because of his excellent physical condition that he endured. At the pace the Dark Lord was going, he was going to rid himself of most of his followers, fourteen years had passed and his most loyal Death Eaters aged just as everyone else did.

He watched the Potions Master execute a high kick, hit an invisible enemy, and then roll forward on the ground to kick another invisible foe(2). It was then that an interesting idea began forming on his mind. After he was returned from his last meeting with the Death Eaters, Albus decided that it was no longer ‘safe' for Severus to continue being Slytherin's Head of House. Too many of the parents from his former chargers were either Death Eaters or sympathizers. Being that close to them in those dark dungeons would mean a constant vigilance and be too risky; and contrary to what Severus insisted, he would not be able to maintain a 24/7 vigilance for a ten month period. He was only human after all.

To say that the Potions Master had not liked that ‘order' was an understatement. He argued and protested for the better part of a day, until Poppy saw fit to cast a sleeping charm on him. He had lost the argument of course and, as soon as he was able, he would be moving to the now refurbished third floor, potion workroom and storerooms included. Albus was even providing him with a personal exercise room, not that he believed it would appease the younger man, who happened to like living in the dungeons and only Merlin knew why. No one would be able to enter the third floor without his permission. Since the Sorcerer's Stone was stored there four years ago, it was one of the safest and most secure places in Hogwarts. Severus office was also moved to a spare one besides Minerva McGonagall's; it was was heavily warded and located at a more public place.

To placate Snape, the headmaster also offered him the chance of having more time to dedicate to research and experimentation. It was a known fact, that Severus loved that part of his chosen trade, and it usually had the odd property of mellowing his moods. A Potions expert or a Master of lower rank would teach fourth years and belowto provide the time. The younger wizard had always preferred to teach the advanced grades. He would have even offered him the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor the younger man coveted for years if that was possible.

Severus was among the most capable Professors Albus had encountered over the years. But the board of governors had made it quite clear than an ex-Death Eater would not be allowed to teach that kind of subject. So he gave in to one of the things Severus wanted to do for quite some time, teach an elective advanced Potions class for his most gifted students. There were several with the potential of becoming Masters, and he wanted to encourage them towards that option without having to keep his acting in front of the Slytherins.

Rounding things up, Severus Snape seemed like a very good choice to become Harry's protector/teacher. He had more than the necessary skills, had even protected the boy on several occasions. He was also well versed on the subjects the teen needed to learn in other to protect himself, and some others that could become handy. The Potions Master was powerful enough to perform wandless magic no matter the spell, again one more of Severus secrets, and that was something 'the-boy-who-lived' needed to learn. The incident the summer before with his Uncle's sister more than proved Harry was capable. Ok, the con to his idea was that those two seemed to hate each other with a vengeance. However, he was sure that could be worked out if they both gave it a chance. It might actually do Severus good to have someone to take care of.

Now that he decided who would be Harry Potter's protector, came the tricky part. The Ministry had not allowed him to set special classes for Harry the past term(3), no matter how he argued that it was necessary. The explanation given was that the boy needed to go through the elementary courses like the other students, regardless if his life was in danger by learning useless tricks. After all, according to Cornelius Fudge, Voldemort had not returned. The stubborn old man still refused to acknowledge the fact. Teaching Harry without the Ministry's approval would only give Fudge more options to discredit the boy and Hogwarts.

The old man scratched his beard thoughtfully, knowing there must be a way, and it was then that he remembered the old way of training. A Master with a personal apprentice; it was still accepted even if it was rarely seen anymore. The Master had complete control over what he chose to teach his charge and the Ministry could do nothing about it. In fact, underage students serving an apprenticeship were allowed to use magic all year round. There were no holidays or vacation time in this kind of personal one on one education. There was also the fact that in the case of minors, the Master assumed the custody of his apprentice. The implications Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley made in their letters of possible mistreatment worried him. If this was the case he needed to get Harry away from the Dursley.

If Severus got custody of Harry, he was sure it should be enough to place at least some of the wards he used at Privet Drive at Hogwarts instead. This needed further investigation, but Albus was sure there was a way to strengthen them. These wards would protect the whole school, not just their living quarters.

The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. There was of course the fact that both Harry and Severus were probably numbers one and two on Voldemort's to kill/torture list, but keeping them together might prove beneficial. It would be easier to keep an eye on them if they were together than if each went their own separate way. Knowing Harry's propensity to get into trouble, whether he looked for it or not, this might avoid future dangerous situations. At least he hoped it would be so, after all, Severus did share that same propensity too. Although the adult wizard was most of the times able to bail himself out of tricky situations, something young Harry needed to learn. With this decided he returned to his personal quarters to get the parchments he needed for the Ministry ready.

“Of all the harebrained things you have asked of me through the years, Albus, THIS one tops them all!” The furious Potion Master glared at the older man. They began talking shortly after breakfast, sharing some tea in the headmaster’s office, while playing wizard chess. However, currently, Severus was pacing the office’s length like a caged and furious wild animal.

“Severus, my boy, this is the best option for the both of you, now that your situation has changed,” the older wizard said in a pacifying tone of voice that usually worked well with the younger man. Although, this time, it did not seem to be calming him.

“The best option?” He sneered in disgust and stopped his pacing right in front of the headmaster to give him one of his trademark death glares. “Are you forgetting that I am, at the moment, in every Death Eater’s ‘top ten’ list of things to do? Torture or kill Severus Snape, then send his carcass to the Dark Lord as a present. I really can’t be responsible for keeping ‘Gryffindor’s-Golden-Boy’ alive; I’ve enough to do with keeping myself alive.”

“I haven’t forgotten, my boy. I’m well aware that Harry holds the number one position on that list, and knowing Voldemort, you hold the second.”

“This is a serious matter Albus; it’s nothing to make fun of!” He huffed indignantly at the thought and resumed his restless pacing. After all, it was his life they were talking about. He personally did not give a damn for Potter’s, but he knew the boy had an important part in the future war against the Dark Lord.

“I wasn’t making fun, merely stating a fact. Both of you are in danger everywhere you go in the wizarding world. As long as you remain inside Hogwarts grounds, or even at one of your hideouts you’ll be safe. Think of it, Severus. It’s much better to keep the two of you together, where we can keep an eye on both of you, than to have each of you going separate ways,” he explained to the other wizard, although he was sure this explanation was not going to end the discussion. It would take much more to convince Severus or at least make him grudgingly accept the order.

“I don’t like this Albus. As I told you, I can take care of myself. I DON’T need protecting. But you know Potter, the boy’s a magnet for trouble. I don’t want to spend 24/7 bailing the spoiled brat out of it, I’ve done that enough times already,” he said, disgust coating his voice. He made it no secret that he positively disliked 'the-boy-who-lived'.

“And you don’t attract trouble my boy?” Albus asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m an adult now, Headmaster,” he sneered, not wanting to go down memory lane. Some parts of that trip were quite painful for him.

“I seem to recall a certain youth with quite a mischievous streak…”

“As I just said,” he sighed. If Albus wanted to go that way, it was not going to be easy to sway him away from it; might as well get prepared. “I AM an adult wizard now. I can take care of myself, as you have been able to confirm on several occasions. Besides,” he then allowed his face to show a very small, pleased smirk. “I haven’t played a prank in years!”

“You haven’t? Really? I seem to recall that last term a certain pair of twins ended for about two weeks praising the Slytherins as well as their head of house, while they changed colors depending on their mood and left everything they touched colored as well*.”

“Oh?” He said raising an eyebrow. “I… seem to recall the incident; something of that nature was more than late in coming. I’m glad some of my boys were able to get back at them for all the other pranks they played on Slytherins.”

“Well… I know for a fact that no student played that prank…” he let the implications hang on the air. For just a scant second, Snape looked like a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar. He recovered quite fast, a talent he had made use of during his spying career; it had literally saved his life several times.

“So… it wasn’t a student?” He decided he would still fake ignorance, although he really had enjoyed getting back at the twins for some of the pranks they played on him since they first attended Hogwarts.

“No, it wasn’t. You don’t, by any chance, happen to know who it was, do you?” There it was again, the mad twinkling in his eyes.

“No. Should I, Headmaster?” he drawled, sounding rather uninterested.

“I would certainly expect you to, since the potion used WAS perfectly brewed and quite complex. I have it from a good source that the twins have yet to reproduce it. It was no amateur work,” he saw the hint of a pleased smile, and knew that would be the only sign of an admission he would ever get from his former student. He might try to hide it, but there was still much of his former self hidden behind the cold walls his Potions Master had built around himself. “Well, going back to the matters of your new apprentice…”

“Albus, I… am… NOT… going… to… do…it. I do not intend to take an apprentice, now or in the future. I’m not a social person, and you know it. Because of that, I certainly DON’T like having people close to me all the time. Even in the remote case that I changed my mind, and believe me I won’t, you can be certain that it WOULD NOT BE Potter. That boy is all courage and no brains. Ms Granger would be a much better choice; at least she’s smart and competent, although not gifted in potion brewing. Heck! I would even accept both Weasley twins.” To the last admission, Albus had to raise his eyebrows; coming from Severus, this was a shocking surprise. But if he thought about it, the twins had to have some talent to create the things they did for pranks. The Potions Master explained, “I… have to admit those two have potential for becoming Potions Masters, if they can take things seriously.”

“So you’ll be inviting them to take special potions seminar you’re planning? I suppose you’re going to ask Ms Granger too?”

“The Weasleys? Yes, they’re too good to let them waste the talent, and they enjoy it,” he grudgingly admitted. “Ms Granger I’m not sure, she seems to do well for grades sake, not because she enjoys making potions. I’ll have to think about it. There are other students who would probably appreciate the course more than she would.”

“What about Harry? Where you planning on having him on the course?”

“Of course not Albus! The boy’s mediocre in potions as well as in everything else, I really don’t see where’s this great potential everyone thinks he has.”

“Are you sure you haven’t seen that potential Severus? The boy has been against Voldemort several times already and has always escaped. One time can be labeled luck, but not four. I know Harry is smarter than he lets on. Now be truthful, have you really graded his work in potions fairly?”

“What are you implying?” His voice was dangerously low. He did no like the Headmaster’s accusation, although there was truth there, at least during Harry’s first and second years.

“We both know you were not exactly fair to the boy, but since it has not done any damage I haven’t mentioned anything.”

“Albus, his work’s mediocre at best, although he manages not to blow or melt cauldrons on his own as much as Long bottom does.”

“But was his work mediocre in the beginning?” This caught Severus a bit by surprise and he had to think back to four years of potion classes. He was usually fair with his grading, but he had not been in either Potter or Granger’s case. Actually, Potter’s work was not mediocre in the beginning, it was… quite good to be truthful, but he never gave him a good grade during his first two years. By the end of the second year, the work was passable but not what it used to be. His face must have betrayed his thoughts because Albus went on. “I suspect he saw no point in presenting good work if they were going to earn him the same marks as those badly done, don’t you think? Harry’s smarter than he lets on; he just doesn’t want to add more to all the attention his name brings him.”

“Really? He doesn’t seem to be doing a great job at being inconspicuous.”

“He does try, but he’s a bit reckless and, as you pointed out, he’s a magnet for trouble. But I’m sure you’ll be able to coach him in that area.”

“Albus, why me? I’m sure there are a lot of people who actually LIKE the brat, and are quite capable of doing this. Why not that mutt of a godfather?”

“Sirius isn’t an option. He might love the boy, but he hasn’t been cleared. He is still an escaped convict. There’s also the fact that although he’s an Auror, he never took a Mastery. And… well, he’s too impulsive; he acts before he thinks…”

“Black thinks? Now Albus, this is some piece of news! You better inform the Daily Prophet of this unprecedented event,” he told the headmaster in a voice that dripped sarcasm and dislike for the man.

“Now Severus, there’s no need for sarcasm.” The younger wizard just sneered. “As I was saying, letting Black take care of Harry is not an option, it’s too risky, and he can’t train the boy in what’s needed.”

“And I can?”

“Yes Severus, you can.”

“But… what about Lupin? He’s not a bad Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Admitting that cost him. Nevertheless, he had to admit that it was the truth. “And I’ll keep him supplied with wolfbane’s potion. Or maybe Minerva, she likes the boy, or even Alastor Moody. I recall you trust the man. There are of course some of the members of the order that might be quite able…”

“As much as I would like Remus to take Harry, he’s not a master either, and would leave Harry vulnerable during the full moon. Minerva is a master, but I can’t spare her. I really need her to work here at Hogwarts and for the Order. Alastor’s a master too, but Harry doesn’t really know him. He knew Barty Crouch Jr. posing as him, but not the real one. Besides, he’s of more use to the order if left to roam at will; the same applies to other Order members.”

“Why is it so important that they be a master?”

“Because my boy, only a master would be allowed to decide what he wants to teach his apprentice without the Ministry meddling in the affair. All others must adhere to what the Ministry has labeled appropriate for a boy Harry’s age. You know they are not too keen in letting us, and I mean Hogwarts teachers, decide what should be taught*. And that boy needs to learn more than simple charms and hexes if he’s to fight Voldemort again and live.”

“Ok, I understand that part. But are you forgetting that boy hates me and that the feeling’s mutual?”

“I don’t think Harry hates you. I know he doesn’t like you, but then again, with the way you have treated him for four years, that’s only to be expected. And… you don’t really know the boy, Severus. Give him a chance; you might be surprised that he’s not what you think.”

“What’s there to know? He’s just like his father, almost disgustingly so.”

“They look a lot alike, but believe me, he isn’t like James. There are some traits he inherited from his father, but there are a lot that he inherited from his mother too. And as I remember you were friends with Lily while you were students.”

“Yes, she was a good friend, but come on, Albus. There surely is someone else you can saddle with the boy. You know I’m no good with children.”

“Really Severus? A fair percentage of Slytherins would not agree with you in that respect. In fact, I know of a few from other houses throughout the time you have been head of house that would agree with the Slytherins. You’ve helped them cope with difficult situations and kept quiet.”

“I was merely more observant and listened to them; Minerva and the other teachers did the rest of the work. There really must be someone else better suited to deal with ‘Gryffindor’s Golden Boy’ than me,” he insisted.

“There really isn’t Severus. You have three wizarding Masteries; I also know you have a muggle one in their science. A wizard with three is uncommon enough, and adding a muggle Mastery completely unheard off. You’re also an excellent duelist, and Harry needs to learn that from the best available. You can also teach him to defend himself without magic; few wizards or witches can do that. Your knowledge of Voldemort and the Death Eaters is also invaluable, and to top that, you can do wandless magic, even if you keep that a complete secret. Need I keep going?”

“How… did you find that out Albus?” he asked suspiciously. No one knew about it. His ability to use wandless magic was something he kept quiet about, to use as his final card in case of extreme danger or as an advantage in an otherwise lost situation.

“I have my ways, my boy, but don’t worry. I’m the only one who knows about this, besides Matilda. And before you ask, no, she didn’t tell me. Severus I’m also asking you this because I know I can trust you to keep the boy safe.”

“Damn it Albus, that was a low blow. Why are you so sure I won’t end up killing the brat?”

“I just know. In fact, I believe you’re going to end up changing the way you think about him.”

“I don’t think so. Actually, I don’t know why I would want to. Besides, I don’t think the Ministry is going to let you do this. Just imagine 'the-boy-who-lived' apprenticed to an ex-Death Eater. My spying record won’t help you there.” This was his last card and he hoped it would give him the winning hand.

“Actually, you’re wrong Severus. The Ministry officials were… ‘grateful’ for the services rendered. They couldn’t deny you this ‘reward’ for risks you ran while working for them…” Snape started sputtering and for a moment, he was completely unable to utter a word. This just made Albus eyes twinkle madly in amusement.

“What the hell did you do Albus?” He finally asked pausing at each word to make emphasis. He was suspicious.

“Oh nothing, just mentioned your work record for us, as well as flaunted that there are few wizards with as many Masteries as you have. It’s only your due to choose a suitable apprentice, and Harry Potter happened to be the one.”

“Why do I feel there’s more here than that?”

“Well there isn’t.” At this, Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really my boy. They already sent me the required documents to sign the apprentice contract, as well as the custody documents that would be necessary since Harry’s underage. The only thing that’s missing is your signature, Harry’s, and his aunt’s, since she’s the one that currently holds the custody, not Mr. Dursley, as most people think. So… it’s not midday yet, so why don’t you go and pick him from his relatives’ house? You’ll just have to explain the situation to his aunt. I’m sure she won’t have that many reservations.” With these last words, Albus had trapped him neatly. There was no way out; he had just acquired an apprentice. “And please Severus, do try to be polite and non-threatening, there’s no need to antagonize the Dursleys.”

Severus left Albus office fuming and went straight outside the school grounds to apparate to his flat in muggle London. He had never had a chance to refuse taking Harry Potter as his apprentice. Damn that old man and his meddling ways; He always managed to get people to do what he wanted. Severus apparated into the study room of his apartment, the only place in the flat where it was possible, then went straight to his bedroom to change into muggle clothes.

He really did not want to go to Potter’s house the wizard way. The muggles might notice something strange, it was still early; or someone might actually be spying on the house and the use of magic would alert them of his presence. Even if most Death Eaters would not think it possible that he, Severus Snape, dressed in muggle clothes, the fact was someone could still recognize him.

From what he managed to learn before he became useless as a spy, the Dark Lord had yet to discover where they kept the boy, and what kind of protection surrounded the place. Still, he saw no reason to take unnecessary risks, better go the muggle way. It was also a good way to get the time to explain everything to the brat. He was sure Potter would be more than curious about him living in muggle London, and he also needed time to think what he was going to do with the boy. Albus did not really give him time to prepare, to begin planning on the brat’s education, or even think about what kind of disruptions his life was going to suffer with the troublesome Potter constant presence.

As he finished his ‘conversation’ with the headmaster, Severus decided that since he had to be in London, he might as well take care of some pending business. He informed Dumbledore that they would not be returning to Hogwarts right away, and explained his reasons. The older wizard told him not to hurry and take as much time as he needed, with the necessary precautions of course. He was sure the Death Eaters were looking for him, but he believed none were smart enough to locate him in muggle London. Also with that maddening twinkle in his eyes, Albus had the nerve of suggesting he take the time to get to know the Potter brat, as if Severus ever intended to do it.

Severus’ income, did not depend sorely of his teaching wages, nor was it based in a non existent Snape family fortune, as most people believed was the case with him being the only Snape left alive. The fortune disappeared when he was still a child at his parents and aunt’s hands. No, he never had an inheritance, like some pureblooded pompous fools, namely the Malfoys. Everything he had at the moment, and it was quite a large sum, he had earned it by himself.

Teaching at Hogwarts paid enough to survive decently, especially with the bonus for being head of house. However, no self respecting Slytherin would be satisfied with just that. He had actually other means of obtaining his funds, all quite legal unlike Lucius and some other ex-Death Eaters. However, because of the TriWizard Tournament and Voldemort’s rise, he had not had the chance to oversee his businesses during the Christmas holidays and the summer break.

The Potions Master did not have his flat connected to the floo system for security reasons, and Albus knew it, so he was aware they might not get in touch with him while Severus was in London. There was of course the option of connecting the fireplace in the study in case of an emergency. He had worked hard on placing wards and protection charms on it, so it was really hard to trace on it. Still, Snape preferred to go to the Leaky Cauldron and request a room with a private fireplace for communication, anything of vital importance was of course, always discussed in person. If there was any need to contact the Headmaster, he would do just that while disguised using polyjuice, Albus and he had agreed on a disguise a long time ago for when he was doing undercover work for the order, or in case he was discovered as a spy. There was enough polyjuice potion left of that disguise to last him at least ten more years. In addition, if the headmaster needed to contact him, he could always send Fawkes; the Phoenix knew the location of the flat, even when some of the wards would prevent most owls from finding it.

The Potions Master’s flat was a nice and ample penthouse with a big terrace, located deep in muggle London. The decoration was homey and the whole place gave an air of rest and relaxation, most people would not have believed he lived in a place so full of light, the complete opposite of a Dungeon. But then, he had not been the one who decorated it. Yet he loved the place, to him it was home. This was his hideout, where he could forget about the wizarding world, his problems, and responsibilities for a while.

Severus could pretend, while he was there, that he was just one normal wizard or even a muggle, and just be without the masks he wore for almost ten months every year. Snape was also sure that no one would guess a pureblood from an ancient line, and known Death Eater would willingly live among muggles and their machines and actually enjoy it. This flat, along with a couple more places strategically chosen around the world, was one of the safest places for him, besides Hogwarts that is.

His muggle identity had been what helped him keep his sanity after the war was over, almost fourteen years ago. Three of his brothers died in the war. Luca, the youngest and his favorite, at the hands of the Dark Lord; it was his death that convinced him to definitely take the risk of switching sides. He had never shared his parents and aunt’s views. They practiced the Dark Arts, as all Snapes did, but were not particularly evil. It had been their extreme ambition and pride that led them to join Voldemort. They were bankrupt, wanted to keep appearances and recover the fortune they irresponsibly spent. The Dark Lord promised them that and much more in exchange for their loyalty. Too bad his bastard parents also promised their five children to the Dark Lord’s service.

Pietro, Giovanni and his aunt Millicent, died during the war at the hands of Aurors doing their jobs on a Death Eaters attack. His idiot siblings bought Voldemort's views and ideas, so he really could not blame the Aurors even if he was extremely prejudiced against them; they had not been ‘fair’ to him to put it mildly during his trial. His parents and remaining brother, Leonard the eldest, received the sentence to a Dementor’s kiss in Azkaban after members of the Order captured them in yet another raid. They got the kiss about three months after being in prison. Of what he considered family, only Nan, his and his brothers’ nurse was still alive. There were a lot of family members on her mother’s side of the family, being Italian counted for large families, but they had never been in close contact with them.

Severus too, like his family and so many others, ended imprisoned in Azkaban after the war. He had been in that hellhole for six months while he awaited the resolution of his trial. I was not until Albus finally convinced those imbeciles at the Ministry of Magic of his spying job for the Order of the Phoenix, that he regained his freedom. However, by the time they released Snape, he was a real nut case. In fact, he often wondered how the mutt, Black, managed to hang to his sanity for twelve years. Although the accursed dog really did not have as many horrible experiences as a once reluctant Death Eater had. Severus was so sick, tired, and disillusioned of the magic world that did not want anything to do with it, ever. He willingly renounced magic. He fled to muggle London and in the space of four years he created a ‘normal’ life for himself there.

With some subtle forgery and not so subtle tricks, he managed to enter a University and got a masters degree in Biochemistry. He worked freelance in the beginning. Actually, he tried several kinds of muggle jobs while he acclimated to the differences in lifestyle and the fact that he was not going to use magic, or at least not as often as he was used to while growing up.

He sold the manor and most of the family heirlooms to pay all the debts his parents and aunt had incurred throughout the years. He was lucky there was something left, not much, but enough to get him started. Severus used that money get himself a place to live, pay his muggle education and to establish his own company, ‘Biochemical Development, Inc.’*.

The business started operations about seven months after he began living and studying as a muggle. What had become his initial speech for every first year potions class about being able to brew fame, success and even put a stopper to death was not a lie at all. He was living proof that he could use potions to create success for his commercial ventures. He was ambitious and cunning, and not at all against taking full advantage of his magical knowledge to obtain what he wanted. Success was only a potion away, and he brewed it, his fledging business went off with a wonderful start. It worked perfectly even if he was not a yet Potions Master and it still kept on going even after 13 years.

Most of his students, past and present, would probably have a collective conniption if they knew the first product he released, and his first success, was the formula for a hair shampoo guaranteed to control excess grease. He really thought that ironic. The way he looked normally at school made it quite difficult to believe, but that look was only part of the role he had to play, and a way to keep people at a distance, to help him keep the act after so many years. The Severus Snape most people saw was not all that he really was, a great portion of him went into his role, or else he would not have been able to keep the act for so long. Still, there was more to him than the snarky, Potions Master who seemed not to care about personal hygiene.

He often wondered how blind and stupid most people were. Less than a handful in more than a decade had ever noticed the blatant contradictions in his persona. All those errors happened when he was beginning to create his character. Albus of course knew about it, but then, the old wizard knew him better than he knew himself most of the times.

Many people did notice how meticulous and extremely organized he was with everything regarding his potions or teaching job, even while he was brewing and researching, he kept everything in place and categorized. Severus did not tolerate sloth, or sloppiness. No Slytherin was ever allowed that kind of behavior, on their person or their property. Yet with those facts blatantly screaming in their faces, people failed to notice that he applied the same kind of tolerance to himself. His clothes were always clean and pressed to perfection. He kept them meticulously in excellent condition, and spelled to repel stains. He never smelled of his potions or the sweat that brewing for hours could produce, or had bad breath even with his disgusting yellow teeth.

Severus often wondered if the world was full of unobservant imbeciles, but in the end, that lack of observation skills had worked in his favor. Being as fastidious as he was about hygiene and order it was hard to believe he would allow his hair to cling in greasy tangles, his hands to remain potion stained or his teeth to remain yellowed. He was a Potions Master for Merlin’s sake! one of the best around, and no one ever thought he could brew a simple hair de-greasing potion? He taught it to the first years, it was only logical that he knew how to brew it. But then, most people barely saw behind his act, or wanted to for that matter. While he was recuperating in the infirmary, he began thinking of what would happen if he finally presented himself as he was. After all, there was no reason for him to keep pretending, and the idea was very tempting. He did enjoy shocking not just the students, but also his colleagues as well. Still he had not reached a decision yet.

Severus sold the patent of his shampoo to a major transnational company specialized in everything from hair care to cleaning products. They wanted to hire him for their new products research department but he refused. In the end, they agreed to subcontract the services of Snape’s newly created company. Later on, after one of his new employees suggested that he try his hand at cosmetic formulas, they discovered the market was quite profitable. That employee’s suggestion opened even more doors and the company grew and progressed at an almost ‘magical’ rate. Her name was Sara Benson, and she was a young and very bright marketing mayor. After working closely with her, he ended falling in love and getting married with her not a year later.

His potion knowledge was an immense benefit, as he found new ways to use magical ingredients to create non-magical products and still obtain the benefits of the magic in them. He had even devised a few methods of separating the magical properties of several magical plants and creatures, just like muggles separated the components of most chemical and biological ingredients. Another piece of knowledge that became invaluable he discovered while still at Hogwarts. He stumbled upon a muggle basic chemistry textbook while he sneaked into the restricted section, and became fascinated by it and took the decision of learning more. With Nan’s help, he bought as many books as he could and even managed to get his hands on specialized periodicals every once in a while. Some of what he learnt from that first book, and subsequent books he bought, helped him improve at potion making. He could really understand the reasons why and how ingredients reacted in a potion, something only attained after years of study and observation. This actually helped him to earn his potions mastery.

It was his combined knowledge in Potions, Herbology and muggle chemistry that allowed him to create the formulas that made his company so profitable throughout the years and him one of the best Potions Masters not just of Great Britain but the entire world. At thirty-five, he had already been a Potions Master for 11 years, the youngest one in all recorded history, while most wizards or witches started to take their mastery exams at that age.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus changed into a comfortable pair of stone washed jeans, a blue shirt and boots. There was no need to dress in stuffy clothes in the middle of one of the worst draughts England had in years. He was also in great physical shape, and muggle clothes only served to emphasize it. He rarely indulged himself in the little vanity of showing off, hiding underneath his stuffy clothes and robes, but whenever he was in the muggle world he was free to do and wear what he pleased, and he did. His body was strong without being bulky, with the complexion of a martial artist, and the added advantage of the longer reach his 6´4” height and long powerful legs gave him.

He observed his reflection in the mirror atop his cupboard, he then took the potion always kept there, and waved his wand before his face to remove the illusions on himself. After a moment and a slight shimmering of the air around him, his hair was its normal silky appearance. It was thick, heavy, and not greasy at all. It grew quite a bit during the school year and what had transcured of the summer so he tied it with a leather cord into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way.

There was also a slight change to his features, though his skin color was still pale, it was no longer the unhealthy tone he usually had, nor did he look older than his real age. The nose of course remained the same; it had always been big and hooked a Snape trademark. In addition, his teeth were not as yellow, although they were not perfect. He was not by any means handsome, never had been, and never would be. Still once the bitter lines and the harsh angles disappeared, he looked ten years younger and rather ‘interesting’, instead of completely ‘ugly’. The way he moved added to the interesting bit and it had never failed to draw attention to him in the muggle world, and then he had his voice, his best tool and he knew how to use it. That drama seminar he took while studying at the Muggle University had certainly paid off. He already had exceptional acting experience, the life and death kind while he was a spy, but he benefited from learning how to take advantage of the power his deep, rich and expressive voice had.

The biggest changes after his hair were his eyes. They had never been really black, but a very dark shade of sapphire blue. Something that had exasperated his father beyond words, the man had the crazy notion that all pure blooded Snapes should have black eyes. The notion was of course confirmed when all of his children, except him of course, were born with black eyes. Severus being the ‘black sheep’ of the family, according to his father, had inherited his pureblooded Italian mother’s eyes.

It was ironic in a way that his late father had tried so hard to make his eyes permanently black, and he, as a youth, had spent many hours trying to find ways of counteract his father’s attempts and keep their original color, only to decide that indeed black eyes would fit better with his new role. Everyone had seen him with that eye color while he was a student, and again never noticed when he reverted them back to blue. It was only after the Order of the Phoenix got together again that Mad Eye Moody asked him about his disguises, his only response had been, that they were acting aids. They kept appearances without him having to work too much on them. Even after the changes, he still looked very much like he used to at Hogwarts from a distance, but up close it would make people wonder about the changes. They had all been part of his role as evil ‘greasy git’, ‘overgrown bat’, and overall terror of students.

Once changed he put a special potion he devised on his arm to hide the dark mark. Snape did not use it often, as it could not remove it. It only created the appearance of vague birthmark slightly darker than his skin tone. It worked whenever he had to show his arms, but would not stand a magical examination.

A quick look at himself in the mirror to check that indeed, he looked like a muggle, and then he started searching for his muggle wallet and his SUV’s* keys. The last time he visited, at the beginning of the summer, he had to leave in a hurry and was not sure where he had left his stuff. That time it would not have done to be present before the Dark Lord looking like a common muggle. While he rummaged among the drawers, he hoped Nan had not forgotten to start the truck every once in a while, or he would have to use magic to get the SUV going. As a rule, he avoided using magic when he stayed at the flat, not wanting to the Ministry to detect it despite the wards and it being supposedly un-plottable.

“Sev, is that you?” A woman asked from just outside the room.

“Yes Nan, come in,” he said distractedly while rummaging in a drawer. “Where did I leave the keys?” he muttered distractedly. It was not like him to forget where he left things.

“You left them on the bed along with everything else, I put them in the basket on the entrance table where they belong. I see you’ve already found the wallet. I wasn’t expecting you today, Sev.” An older woman of around sixty entered the room and leaned against the dresser.

“Thanks, sorry for not flooing in advance. But I really had no idea I was coming until this morning. It’s been one deranged summer… shouldn’t you be at the office at this hour?” He asked her as he pocketed his wallet and his wand in his jeans.

“Yes my boy, but I have to check some reports and I was just getting interrupted at the office. So I told everyone I needed some peace and quiet. Mildred knows where to find me if I’m needed.”

“Best secretary you’ve had so far and it’s good she’s also a witch so she can deal with everything. By the way, we’ll be having a guest…”

“Oh good, you haven’t brought any pretty…” she interrupted him sounding quite pleased. Nan had been trying to convince Severus of getting himself if not a wife at least a girlfriend, but he still refused. Ten years and he still was not over Sara, his wife, and Pat’s, his little daughter, deaths.

“Nan,” he said warningly. That witch was the limit sometimes. She still insisted that he could find another woman; but he really did not want to look for one. He was just fine as he was. “Can you tell one of the house elves to get one of the spare bedrooms ready? And it’s not a girl…”

“Oh, you switched sides? At least you will have someone…” she began teasing him. She was after all the only one, besides Albus Dumbledore, who could get away with it.

“Nan! Can’t you just drop it? You know I’m getting too old for that. We’ve been through this enough times already, and for your information I’m still straight.” Irritation was clear in his voice and he looked annoyed, although he really could never snap at her as he did with everyone else; might be the fact that she had practically raised him or something of the sort.

“Nonsense my boy! You’re only thirty-five, still young and powerful, you’ll probably reach one hundred and fifty like Dumbledore or more. Besides, I’ve more years in me than you and I still consider myself quite young. Even after having taken care of you and your brothers since you were born,” the woman said. She had been the Snape family nurse; and began working with them shortly before Severus was born. After all died, she had remained the closest thing to family and a mother that Severus had. Nan was the one that reminded him, when times were hard, that he was still fundamentally good and human underneath his cold façade. “So who’s our visitor?”

“A student, his name is Harry Potter.” He walked out of the room and to the elevator’s door, Nan following him.

“THE Harry Potter?” She was really surprised, and her ex-charge made a disgusted face at her question. Severus of course had mentioned the boy, on more than one occasion, but it was clear that he could not tolerate him. In a way she did not blame him, James Potter and the marauders had made his life quite difficult while he studied at Hogwarts, and even after they all graduated.

“Yes, the insufferable 'boy-who-lived'. Dumbledore saddled me with the spoiled brat,” the anger was clearly evident in his voice as he picked his keys.

“Saddled you with the boy? Why?”

“He decided I needed an apprentice, that the brat needed a bodyguard and special training he can’t receive at Hogwarts, and that only ‘I’ can provide. Especially since the imbeciles at the Ministry doesn’t approve of the brat getting it,” he explained at her puzzled expression. “And to make things worse, I get to become 'Gryffindor's-Golden-Boy' legal guardian, since Potter’s underage. ‘Oh the joy of it all!’” He sneered, sarcasm evident on the last phrase. “I swear Albus is plain crazy or getting senile.”

“Well, it can’t be as bad as you make it sound Sev,” she commented thoughtfully. “I… actually think it might do you good.”

“Not you too Nan! Albus said something of the sort, and I really can’t see anything good coming from having to train that spoiled brat.”

“Well you really won’t know until you start with the training. You make him sound like a little menace. And I get the feeling he really isn’t. You always make it sound as if the boy is a clone of his father, and believe me Sev that’s not possible.”

“Believe me, he is. Just wait until you meet the little menace.”

“Hmpgh,” she snorted knowing that it was hard for him to see past the boy’s father image. Those marauders really did not have a clue how much they had hurt Severus. “Just remember he isn’t his father, just as you aren’t yours, Anyway how long will you be staying in London?”

“How long are we staying…? I’m not sure yet. Since I’m already here, I better take the time to check on the business. It’ll depend on how the companies are doing, but a good guess would probably be three or four days at the most. Right now, I’m off to pick Potter, he lives with his muggle relatives in Surrey.”

“Driving?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “The house is so heavily warded that you can’t apparate or portkey in at least a five block radius from it. Besides it’s better if I don’t draw too much attention to myself, some of the Dark Lord’s lesser followers might be watching.”

“Well if that’s it, good luck with the traffic, and we can talk more about the businesses during dinner, I’ll bring you up to date,” she told him and he just nodded in agreement.

With that, he gave the old woman a peck on the cheek like he had always done since he could remember and left. Had anyone who knew him from Hogwarts or from his spying Death Eater times been present, they would have probably died of a heart attack at so un-Snape-ish behavior. But he loved Nan more than he had loved his own mother and she had also become a close friend. He saw no harm in showing her affection. Besides the older witch would tan his hide or use him for potion ingredients if he did not.

Snape drove for some time to reach Little Whining in Surrey. Once there, finding Privet Drive was no problem at all. Before going to the house, he decided to take a look at Potter's neighborhood. For starters, it was not the opulent area he expected. The Potters had been extremely wealthy and from an old ancient line of Aurors, so this place was slightly at odds with where he believed Harry Potter’s home was situated.

The area where the house was located was middle class, well off but not as rich as he expected. He could not help the frown that formed as the doubt that he might have actually been wrong about the Potter boy began taking form. Severus, of course, dismissed it; he was not wrong. The brat still was extremely spoiled, regardless of where he lived. As the Potions Master looked around, he found that there were many kids outside playing soccer, riding bikes, skateboards, or just lounging on the front lawns talking. As it was summer break, it was quite normal. However, from what he could see, Potter was not among any of them. The arrogant brat probably thought he was too good to hang around other boys his age.

There was one smallish boy that caught his attention the second time he looked. Somehow, Severus got the feeling the child did not want anyone noticing him. It was odd, almost as if he had a ‘notice-me-not’ charm. Of course, that was not possible for a few reasons. First, he felt no magic from him. Second, according to what the Order of the Phoenix knew of the area there were no other witches or wizard near the zone. Third, there was no possibility that the boy was James Potter’s son. The child did not seem to fit in with the other kids. He was the only one doing any kind of chores; he sat in an extremely awkward and stiff position while he handed weeded his house’s lawn with one hand.

There were other boys outside the same house as the smallish child, but they were just lounging there, not helping at all, and instead they occasionally threw rocks or other projectiles at the kid. The scene was intriguing and Snape decided to take a good look; he got the feeling that something was… off, and he did not like it. He drove a bit closer, trying not to draw too much attention to himself, and observed the scene from across the street.

The boy was poorly dressed. Even from where he was it was evident that the clothes he wore were at least four sizes too large and in terrible condition. By all accounts, the child should have stood out in that neighborhood; it was clear he did not fit the dress code of the other children, and yet… he was rather hard notice even when he knew he was there. The Potions Master was reminded again of the effects of a ‘notice-me-not’ charm, only to dismiss it for the second time.

The child had one arm in an impromptu sling made of some kind of cloth, and one leg was awkwardly extended, he moved carefully as if hurt. The other boys seemed to be fine; in fact, the only way to describe one of the youngsters picking shots at him was to compare him with a small killer whale. After seeing him, it was not hard to deduct that the hand me downs were probably the whale boy’s discarded clothes.

There were three more kids there, much leaner and they were taunting the boy. He was surprised that the kid managed to ignore them and kept doing his job. Severus could not help but wonder why the child’s parents had not taken him to a doctor. From where he was it was evident the boy had some kind of injuries that required medical attention. He also began wondering why no one else noticed. Surely, a social worker would have been there at the clear signs of neglect by the family, but it seemed that no one except from the other youngsters even saw the child’s condition. Snape thought it was very strange.

The more he looked, the more he felt there was something familiar about him, and yet he could not place what it was. The bigger boy got tired of not getting a response and decided to move into action. The fat boy stood and stepped over some of the lawns’ plants ruining them. The little one clumsily sprang into action with a horrified cry. He tried to keep the huge boy away, but it was a futile effort since he could not even stand up. That leg was indeed injured restraining his mobility, or he was crippled in some way. The others took the fat boy’s actions as the signal to start shoving the small kid around. He never stood up, did not even attempt to, and just stayed on the ground curled up in a protective posture; with one arm, he covered his head as best as he could to fend off the others.

Snape felt tempted to intervene. He might always play the cold bastard, but he could not stand and watch that kind of abuse to someone who was obviously either hurt or sick or a child, at least when there were no Death Eaters around. Before he could do something, a thin woman with an incredibly long neck and horse like features came out of the house. He expected her to berate the bigger boys, especially the obese one. But to his immense surprise, the one that got an earful an a light trashing by the hair as she dragged him into the house was the little one, who simply lay still and let himself be dragged. Severus could not really believe what he had just witnessed, and got the feeling that this was ‘normal’, as he noticed that the few adults outside where either studiously avoiding looking in that direction or had not even noticed.

There was not much he could do about what he saw. If he lived in the area, he might have reported it to the authorities, but he had other things to do, like collecting an insufferable brat before it became too late and they were caught in a traffic jam going back to London. Therefore, he decided to look for number four. He ended parking in front of the house where the scene took place, and the sickening feeling that the smallish boy was Potter settled in his stomach. It fit, that unruly mass of hair was one of the boy’s most prominent features aside from his scar and eyes, even if it looked much longer than the way he usually wore it at Hogwarts. Potter was also too small for his age, hardly having grown a couple of inches since he arrived at Hogwarts four years ago. The feeling that he was not going to like what he found inside that house only grew stronger with each passing moment, even if he tried to push it aside.

‘It’s not Potter, he’s spoiled and pampered. People flock to do his biding, this child just has a slight resemblance to him. Besides, Albus would not leave his ‘Golden Boy’ to be abused by mere muggles, relatives or not,' he reasoned, holding on to his beliefs on the brat’s life. ‘This is probably one of the neighbors’ children doing some summer work.’

Severus checked that he had all the parchments that both Petunia Dursley and Potter had to sign and then got off his black Land Rover. He stalked to the door in his usual manner giving the bullies his most deadly glare, although he would have preferred to hex them. Still his death glare did not fail him, the brats scattered as far away from him as they could get. He could not hide the smirk that appeared at their reaction; even in muggle clothes, and without his usual disguise, he could be quite intimidating.

Severus rang the bell and tried to look his most non-threatening, which was not an easy feat on any occasion, and even less after scaring the brats. It would not do to antagonize the woman; Mrs. Dursley might refuse to sign if he did, and Albus would be clearly disappointed. There were a couple of muffled thuds, the sound of scurrying, a low pained yelp, and a door slammed before the long necked woman opened the door.

“Yes?” The woman looked rather flushed, as if she had been exercising, or something. She was combing her hair with her hands trying to look presentable. Severus frowned; something did not seem right yet again.

“Are you Mrs. Petunia Dursley?” He tried to hide the contempt on his voice; this woman was nothing like her sister. Lily had been a friend good study partner and he had to admit very pretty.

“Yes, what can I do for you Mr…?” she asked looking a bit intrigued.

“Snape, Professor Severus Snape. I came to talk about your neph…” He was surprised at the immediate change in the woman’s features. They had instantly hardened and she looked disgusted by the sole mention of the boy.

“We haven’t received any of those letters brought by the bloody birds. What has the useless freak done this time to merit a visit?” the hatred that filled the woman’s tone startled him.

Severus agreed that the boy was useless, but he certainly was not expecting to hear that and in that tone of voice from Potter's own family. They were supposed to pamper, spoil, and put the brat on a pedestal for being ‘the wizarding world’s savior’ not call him a ‘freak’. When the woman had the gall to look him over, he had to fight to keep from uttering a scathing remark.

“At least you had the decency of presenting yourself wearing clothes like normal people do.” The horse-like woman went on. Mentally Severus had to clench his teeth and keep himself from hexing Petunia Evans, now Dursley, as much as he wanted to at the moment. Albus had insisted that he be polite and did his best to avoid antagonizing the relatives, and he was going to try his best not to be rude.

“Nothing Mrs. Dursley; your nephew, Mr. Potter, has done nothing this time,” he was aware of the incidents on the boy’s second and third years, and the warnings for using magic when he was not supposed to. “I’ve merely come here to talk about the boy’s educational options.” Merlin! He hated himself for sounding so bland. Threaten to hex the family till kingdom come if they did not sign, get the brat, his things, and leave. That is what he should do, instead of acting all ‘nice’ or he had to repress a shudder at the thought, as ‘nice’ as he could get. However, the family could contest the contract if they were coerced to sign, something that he would not mind, but Albus certainly would. The old coot would send him on a guilt trip for that, and the conniving old wizard had an uncanny knack for doing just that. “May I come in?” The woman scowled while she took her time to respond.

“If you must…” Her words were filled with disdain and blatant disinterest, as she let him in.

“Yes I must,” He replied firmly, letting his displeasure at the situation show in both his face and voice. He had that ‘obey-or-else…’ look on his face, the one his students learned to obey at once, though the woman did not seem at all intimidated by it.

“We really want NOTHING to do with that freak school of yours or any of your KIND,” she told him while she led him into the living room and rudely did not offer him to take a seat.

She sat primly on one of the couches closest to the window. Petunia Dursley avoided all the rules of courtesy, by not even offering anything to drink, not that he would have accepted, but still it was ‘polite’, even he understood that. Severus was beginning to take the woman’s attitude as a personal offense, Potter or no Potter he WAS going to hex the bitch, nothing serious of course, just enough to teach her some manners. Since he had not been invited to sit, Snape took his time looking around the living room. There were many static photographs of the Dursley family and that whale of a boy, but, to his immense surprise Harry Potter did not feature in any of them, in fact there was no hint there that a second teenager had lived with the family for thirteen years. These along with other small clues were forming a puzzle he did not want to unravel because it would make all of his beliefs about 'the-boy-who-lived' false.

“Now what is it that you think is important enough to come here to bother us Professor?” Petunia asked in a sharp tone, making his title sound like an insult. The Potions Master’s guts clenched; this woman was earning his hate faster than that mutt Black ever did.

‘I.am.going.to.kill this… this… woman,’ Severus thought as he prayed for something he did not have, patience. ‘Once she signs I’ll hex her or maybe turn her into a horse. Umm… doesn’t sound bad at all even if transfiguration has never been my forte; and I don’t think I’ll mind if she’s left in an in-between state, Albus and his politeness be damned! Me, be polite to the likes of this woman… indeed.’

“Headmaster Dumbledore decided that it would be good for Mr. Potter to be apprenticed to a Mast…” he began with a sneer and glared at the woman. It was enough to make her shift uncomfortably in her chair, but she still interrupted him.

“We won’t give you any money,” She began sternly.

‘Well, it seems the brat got this… interrupting characteristic from the Evans side of the family,’ Severus thought affronted by Petunia’s rudeness.

“If ‘he’ wants him at that ‘school’ then let ‘him’ pay for it.” She went on incensed. “We’re not spending another pound on the useless freak! In fact, we should be compensated for taking care of him. Tell that… that man that he should be paying US for taking care of the brat.”

Severus was not one to be easily shocked, but this time he could not help but gape at her words. He recovered quickly enough. After years of training, the Potions Master could rebuild his masks easily. He was not hearing correctly; where were Potter’s coddling and pampering relatives? Because she certainly was not one of them. It was more than obvious that she loathed Potter more than he did. This situation had suddenly become bizarre, and not at all what he expected. In fact, not even Albus would have expected it, and he liked to make everyone believe he was omniscient, which of course he was not. He was wrong about the boy’s life, he knew it in his heart and mind, and yet he rebelled against admitting it. He told himself he was jumping into conclusions and should wait before accepting that his relatives might just have abused Potter.

“Surely you don’t mean that, after all he is your sister’s son.” Severus could not believe he had actually said that, but he was in… he could only call it shock; and it was really very hard to shock him after all he had lived through.

“So? She and her useless husband were freaks like him. That… that Voldemort guy really did us a favor by killing both freaks, good riddance. Although it’s a shame he didn’t finish the job and got the brat too. They had no place in a normal…” She said callously, shocking Severus yet again.

“You will NOT speak of Lily like that!” Severus raised his voice in anger. “She was a good and powerful witch, and she happened to be YOUR sister!” He could accept anyone badmouthing James Potter, Merlin knew he did it often enough, but Lily was something else entirely. She had been one of his few true friends and he really could not stand to hear her own sister being glad that she was dead.

“So? She was still abnormal, and that made her a freak…”

“Wizards are NOT freaks!” he snapped at her. “And you better listen well…” now his voice had dropped to a very low and dangerous tone. “If you so much as THINK the word in my presence again, I am going to make sure you and your family regrets it,” his wand was out of his special pocket in his jeans and aimed at her. To hell with politeness, it was wasted on the… the… muggle. “Contrary to Mr. Potter, I’m an adult and a fully trained wizard. The restriction to use magic during the summer break does not apply to me ignorant woman, is that understood? Watch your words from this moment on Dursley if you want to remain human much longer.” Severus was not sure if he could cast Dark spell or curses inside the house as much as he was tempted. However… transfigurations were not classified as such, so maybe he should follow his impulse of turning her into a horse.

“Y… yes,” she stammered looking frightened. She had been acting boldly believing the restriction would apply to the man sitting before her. The only wizards she remembered dealing with, besides the ‘boy’ that is, had been underage. She had not attended Lily’s wedding where she might have met adult wizards. The freak looked every inch the dangerous wizard even if he was wearing normal everyday clothes, and she did not doubt that he would do something terrible to her or her precious Duddykins.

“Now, let me get this straight,” he began wearing one of those sneers that made his students want to dig a whole in the dungeon’s ground and disappear in it to escape from his wrath. “You have no interest whatsoever in keeping Harry Potter under your care. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Petunia said with a slight tremor in her voice. “We never wanted the fr… brat, but we were not given a chance to refuse him.”

“Well, then I can get to the point of my visit and stop wasting my time with disgusting… muggles. My intentions are to take your nephew as my apprentice…”

“You’re a Master?” She squeaked turning as white as a sheet. He could not help the evil smirk that appeared on his face. So this… woman knew more about the wizarding world than she let on.

“Yes, I am a Potions Master,” her face became even whiter as he went on, "as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts…”

“Severus Snape…” Petunia mused and then recognition as well as fear flashed in her eyes.

Lily had spoken of him, and told her of his dark reputation, even if it had been to defend him from her fiancé and his friends. She said his reputation was not entirely deserved. That he was not evil, although at the moment he looked every inch the evil wizard. She was also aware of a Master’s added advantage over regular wizards; God knew Lily had bored her to tears explaining why she wanted to become one. A Master did not just know more about magic, but actually were strong enough to perform all the ‘tricks’ they knew.

“You were her friend!”

“Yes, I was. Now stop wasting my time, and let us finish this… conversation. In order for me to… relieve you of your duty as Harry Potter’s guardian, I need you to renounce his custody in my favor.” She gaped at him. Here was the opportunity she and Vernon, were waiting for, to finally get rid of the freak.

“Can you guarantee we won’t see or hear from the… ‘boy’ again? Or any of your KIND? Because once he leaves I am certainly not taking him back.”

“I can. In fact, I have all the pertinent paperwork with me so you just have to sign and deliver the boy and his things.”

“Then I’ll sign whatever you want Mr. Snape,” Her use of his last name made him raise an eyebrow in her direction and sneer. Was she trying to get on his good side? Not likely, after making him despise her faster than he despised Black. The mutt had worked hard for several years to achieve his complete and total hatred, a thing she managed in less than an hour.

“Good…” he said enlarging and unrolling the proper parchments. On second thought, he decided some to add some things to keep the muggles from trying to collect payment for raising Potter. He had no intention of giving any pounds to them, and since he would be the boy’s new guardian it fell on him to provide the money for their demands. “You will also write a letter where you desist of ever claiming any payment for taking care of your nephew.”

“But… we have spent money on him!”

“Have you really? His clothes and glasses seem at odds with that statement.” He countered remembering the rags the child was wearing. Potter he told himself, it had to have been Potter. He might as well be prepared to the condition he would find the boy in.

“We clothed, fed, and educated the little urchin; it’s only our due to be reimbursed as we never wanted to take him in.”

“You want to get rid of him and our KIND don’t you?” His voice was low, persuasive, and carried the hidden threat of pain for her and her family. Petunia just nodded in response unable to find her voice. “Then sign, and write that letter. You won’t hear from him again. Also, I was forgetting, I’ll need a drop of your blood too.” She looked suspicious, but just nodded in acquiescence.

Severus produced a quill and ink, pointed to her where she should sign on a couple of documents, then he added his own signature. As soon as he did it, the parchment self sealed and stamped the date, time, and replicated itself. The copies, minus one, and the original went out the window, to Petunia’s horrified cry and disapproving look. The parchments then transported themselves to the proper Ministry office; the fact that they could do that from just outside the house was a clear indication that the wards had indeed weakened. He handed a copy to her and pocketed the original. Then gave her some blank parchment he successfully transfigured from a toll booth ticket. The woman looked clearly disgusted at such blatant display of magic in her house but he ignored her, and had her write the letter where she denied any claim of reimbursement for taking care of the boy. Finally, he produced another parchment, pricked her index finger with a needle, and placed three blood drops on it.

“Now where’s Potter?” The woman paled, with the look of someone who had just realized she forgot something of vital importance; she gulped nervously and refused to look at him. “Do I have to repeat myself? Where’s the boy?” he demanded, his voice cold as ice.

“Now where’s Potter?” The woman paled, with the look of someone who had just realized she forgot something of vital importance; she gulped nervously and refused to look at him. “Do I have to repeat myself? Where’s the boy?” he demanded, his voice cold as ice.

Shaking a little the woman finally pointed to the locked cupboard under the stairs. Potter was in there? Severus’ stomach sunk, the boy he saw had been him, and Potter had not looked well. The Potions Master wondered for an instant, how had the boy managed to hide what went on at his home? From the pieces of the puzzle he had completed, the only conclusion he could draw was that the abuse was not a recent development. Snape then pushed those thoughts aside; it was not the time to dwell on them. He would get his answers later, once he was able to talk to Potter. That is, if the boy wanted to talk about it at all. From experience, he knew few children in his position did, at least in the beginning. As he walked to the cupboard with the intention of getting the Gryffindor out, the huge fat boy came in complaining and whining that he was hungry, and demanded to eat in that instant. Snape glared at the boy, before ordering him.

“Go to your cousin’s room, pack his things and bring them down,” the massive kid cowered at his look, then stared at him wide eyed with fear but did not move. “Now, not next week, move it boy!”

“B… but… he doesn’t have any things! Besides that ma… stuff! And that’s his room!” He said pointing at the cupboard.

‘These people have to be joking! I thought that was just the place were they punished him, not his bloody room!’ Severus thought starting to feel furious. He ran a hand trough his hair and took several deep breaths trying to calm down. How dare they treat a wizard, or any human being for that matter, like that? ‘That’s no place for a child, be it Potter or anyone!’ How could Dumbledore let his Golden Boy live with such beasts? And then, have the gall to he send him back every summer! ‘No wonder the child always asks to stay at Hogwarts during all breaks and especially the summer.’

“You mean to tell me he sleeps in THERE?” He fixed Dudley with a glare that clearly stated ‘you-better-not-be serious-or…’ The whale of a boy paled a bit, but he was too obtuse to understand the whole treat behind the glare.

“Leave my Duddykins alone! You… you…” Petunia Dursley jumped in what she believed was her son’s protection. It only served to anger Severus even more, his head snapped in her direction, wand leveled at her heart.

“Quiet woman or you’ll be getting a nasty hex… actually I might do it anyway,” he added the later as an after thought. “Now let this…” his wand changed targets and with a light wrist flick settled between the huge boy’s brows. “Excuse for a boy answer, he does have a tongue in that cavern he calls a mouth, doesn’t he?” The dark wizard ordered her ready to stupefy the woman if she so much as moved; his voice was full of disgust and barely contained fury. For the first time since he ever heard of Voldemort’s ideas, twenty years ago, he almost agreed with the Dark Lord's treatment of muggles… almost; at least, where the Dursley family was concerned. He still had trouble believing they kept Potter in the cupboard. How many years had the boy been sleeping in there?

“That’s… that’s where… he always slept before those… those… letters that drove Dad crazy came,” the whale of a boy managed to stutter, since he was still in one piece, and quite stupid to realized his precarious situation, he decided to complain. “Then when he returned for the summer the first time, he got my second room; he had it for three years! It wasn’t fair and I needed it!” Dudley whined, not realizing that he was only incurring in the wizard’s wrath. Severus took a couple more deep breaths and shook his head to dispel the desire of cursing the boy. Regardless of his previous actions, pointing his wand at him for a moment before he returned it to target the woman, cursing a child went against his principles. He never had, and if he could help it never would, not even to please Voldemort, and had almost paid with his life then for refusing to do so then. Yet Dudley Dursley came close to making him betray those principles.

“And I thought Draco Malfoy was the embodiment of the spoilt and pampered brat, even over Potter. This… boy is much, much worse,” he muttered to himself.

“He’s never been any good except for doing my homework, but he can’t anymore since he’s at that school, and that was bummer because I had to find someone to replace the freak.” The whale boy went on, complaining about what he believe were just grievances against Harry. “Besides with all those screams at night it’s better if he stays…”

“Get.out.of.my.sight,” Snape said through clenched teeth and hardly containing himself. “Before I turn you into the animal version of what you are.” At the boy’s stupid puzzled look, he clarified. “A whale,” after his threat, the huge kid grabbed his behind and scuttled to his mother as fast as he could. It was really strange behavior but Severus was at the moment too furious to puzzle over it.

Severus had heard enough. He… disliked Potter, the boy was annoying, but… he would not have subjected even him to sleep in that place. He did not believe the brat had ever done anything to merit such treatment, regardless of his crazy escapades at Hogwarts might suggest. Snape had to admit that he was wrong about the kind of life the boy led, completely wrong, and he considered himself not only observant but also quite good at reading people. Severus hated being mistaken. He was probably going to have to spend quite some time re-thinking his views of 'the-boy-who-lived’ and was certain he would have to change his behavior towards him too, he should not add to the abuse the boy had already received. Potter had obviously never been pampered by his relatives, much less loved in his life. Dreading what he would find, he went to the locked cupboard and hunkered before it.

“Alohomorra,” he said softly and the locks opened with light clicks. The stench of sweat, old blood, pain, and bodily wastes coming from inside the small place made him gag. It was almost as bad as the stench he remembered from Riddle House’s dungeons. “What the…”

‘How the hell did he manage to contain that inside without the Ministry noticing the use of magic?’ He thought, because it was clear Potter kept the stench confined to the small cramped space using magic. There was no other explanation.

Surprisingly enough he had not been able to feel any magic until he was within close distance of the child. Yet another puzzle to ponder later, together with what he now was positive was indeed a ‘notice-me-not’ charm. At the moment, he needed to asses Potter’s condition. Trying not to take any deep breaths as he peered inside, he turned on the single light, and found Potter curled up on a small mattress hardly big enough for him, his trunk under it left no room for anything else. The boy was barely conscious and it took him a while to react, finally he blinked several times and tried to focus.

“Who… who’s…”

“Articulate as ever Mr. Potter,” he sneered hiding the concern he was feeling at seeing the sorry state the boy was in. Concern was something he was rather unused to feeling in relation to Harry Potter, or anyone else for that matter. It had been a long time since he worried about someone, Nan and Albus included.

“Pro… professor Snape?” Harry croaked, turning to where the voice came from. Not really believing anyone from Hogwarts was there. He did not want to hope that he would finally be going home only to realize it was some hallucination because of the pain and the fever he had been suffering lately.

“Clever as always Potter, now get your things and come out of there. We’re leaving,” he ordered the dazed boy.

Potter had been able to move when he saw him outside. However, up close he looked much worse. He was beginning to think the woman gave him more than a light trashing. Though it did not seem like she had much time for that, it certainly explained the way she had looked when she opened the door. Snape was really concerned now, but still refused to show it, and let the emotion take control. At his words, Potter just stared at him with pain filled, wide unfocused eyes, and an expression of complete disbelief on his face.

“Can’t,” Harry finally responded. He hurt too much and was too weak after, first a round with Dudley & Co., and then his aunt. She did not have much time to do any damage; but being dragged by his hair and thrown head first into the cupboard had been quite painful. He believed he might have cracked his skull when she threw him in and he hit the back wall head first.

“Can’t what? Leave? Get out? Sometimes I wonder if that single brain cell Gryffindors have has not expired from loneliness.” Severus snapped at the boy, still doing his best to hide and fight his growing concern for Potter. It would not do him any good, he needed a cool head to check and heal him enough to make it back to his flat. Poppy was not available, and St. Mungos should be only a last resort option, it was too dangerous for both of them to stay in a public place long.

‘Damn Big D and his gang!’ Harry thought, focusing on his anger at his cousin and the Potions Master instead of the pain he felt. Dudley and his ‘friends’ had only made things worse than they had already been, and just when he was finally starting to heal. In addition, Snape’s comment infuriated Harry enough to give him some strength to try to move from his cot. It only resulted in so much pain that he could not help the low whimper that escaped his lips.

“Can’t move Professor,” Harry finally said through clenched teeth. He would be damned if he let any more signs of weakness show. The snarky Professor would surely gloat about it later.

“Why?” Severus asked with a frown, still fighting not to gag at the stench coming out of the tiny room. Finally deciding on muttering a simple air cleaning charm, the one he used to clear the mildly irritating fumes from some of his potions.

“Why?” the ‘greasy git’ had the gall to ask why? Didn’t he have eyes? Or maybe he did not look as bad as he felt, though he doubted it. “Oh maybe it’s because I believe my knee’s broken and probably some ribs too. My right shoulder’s dislocated, my right elbow feels broken, there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t hurt and I’m tired… Voldie’s been quite active this summer, but then you SHOULD know that shouldn’t you? Are those reasons enough? Or how about my head’s hurts so much I really can’t think straight?” The boy snapped at him, his voice pain ridden and full of sarcasm. Harry was actually surprised he managed to say that much, he had barely spoken since he first arrived from Hogwarts that summer.

‘Merlin! And he’s still conscious and able to be sarcastic?’ He did not dwell on the nickname the irreverent boy gave the Dark Lord, although it was quite amusing. In addition, his opinion of the Gryffindor raised several notches. He then pointed his wand at him and whispered a strong numbing charm. With the extent of his injuries, it would not last long; still, it should do for the time being.

“I get the idea Potter. I just put you under a numbing charm…”

“THIS IS A DECENT HOUSE YOU WILL NOT USE YOUR STINK…” Petunia shrieked outraged at the use, yet again, of magic in her house. This had been the last straw in her tolerance of it.

“STUPEFY!” Snape roared with barely a backward glance at the woman, his voice laden with anger.

Petunia Dursley had been in the process of standing from the chair were she sat when the spell hit her with such force that she toppled over, chair and all. Snape heard the clatter, but paid no attention to it. He would have preferred to have given her a taste of an atormentar*, one of those curses created during the Spanish inquisition. It was rather archaic but not considered dark as it was used to ‘show’ inquisitors what their victims felt. On the other hand, he could have used a cruciatus, but that one would probably call the Ministry’s attention, he really was in no mood to deal with those imbeciles. Still it would do her good to feel what pain was, instead of inflicting it on a child.

The whale boy started shrieking when he saw his mother fall so he got stupefied too to keep him quiet, no need for the neighbors to call the muggle authorities… although, on second thought, it might be interesting to hear how that Dursley woman explained Potter’s condition to them. How long had Potter been in that condition anyway? The stench in the little cupboard suggested at least a few days. It filled him with rage, as a Professor he had sworn to protect his students from harm, ‘Golden Trio’ included, and it was an oath he took to heart. A low chuckle and then a pained whimper brought his attention back to 'the-boy-who-lived' although at the moment he appeared to be ‘the-boy-who-was-barely-alive’.

“That felt good, thank you Sir.” The comment made Snape look at him quizzically, but Harry was not looking at him, and just went on and explained. “You have no idea how much I wished I could curse them. A cruciatus would have been much better,” Severus could not help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. He would have never believed Potter capable of wishing the cruciatus on anyone. One of his Slytherins… yes they would have, but not a Gryffindor. “But you might have gotten in trouble.”

“My thoughts exactly Mr. Potter, it seems we finally agree on something. And I can still curse them,” he responded wryly and allowed himself a small smirk. He had been there less than an hour and he already ‘hated’ those two. He could only imagine what it would have been to see them everyday.

“It’s ok Sir, they aren’t really worth getting in trouble, or I would have risked an expulsion long ago.”

‘He would have actually cursed them? Now that’s interesting,’ Severus thought and decided to file that information for later.

Severus got Harry out carefully from under the stairs. Without the charm, it would have been a painful ordeal. As it was, he had a bit of trouble since he could not levitate him out of it; he had to take the child in his arms, hoping not to worsen whatever other injuries he had. He set the boy on the couch in the living room then went, got the trunk, and owl cage out. He asked if everything was in there before he shrunk and put them in his jeans’ pocket. As he appraised the child, he realized Potter was practically a skeleton. He had been quite thin when he left the school because of the strain of the tournament and Diggory’s death, but he had lost even more weight since then, so on top of being beaten the boy had not eaten enough. He wondered if it was because he could not eat or because his relatives did not feed him. The way things were, the second option seemed more probable.

After a quick diagnosis spell, he came to the conclusion that Harry's assessment was mostly correct. Although he found no explanation to the nerve damage indicated, and it was not light either, since he could feel the slight involuntary trembling of the boy and see the minute twitching of his hands. Somehow, it reminded him of the after effects of several cruciatus curses, but there was no one to submit him to it. The wards would have detected any Death Eaters inside, and knowing how they operated, they would not have left the boy there. It had to be something else; the spell he used was a simple one, just to find to the more important injuries. Once back in his flat he would cast something more specific.

Potter’s shoulder was indeed dislocated, the left knee, foot and ankle were broken as well as his femur (only a hairline fracture actually). There was a slight crack on his skull and a contusion because of it, the elbow was only badly sprained, and some of the ligaments were thorn. Two ribs were broken, and another had a nasty crack, all that besides being black and blue on the areas where he could see skin, though he was probably bruised all over. Severus felt relieved that he could correct most of the injuries with his knowledge of medical spells.

Early in his studies to become a Potions Master he had received some training in medi-wizardry, it was necessary when dealing with all types of healing potions and even poisons. He was certain he would have reached at least a level four* in medi-wizardly, if he had taken the placement exams. However, at the time, he had not been too keen in a medical career. Later on when he did well enough as a businessman, chemist and as a Potions Master he saw no reason to pursue that area of studies. Snape had also practiced a lot during his time as a Death Eater; the knowledge had been handy for desperate situations, of which he found himself in many. The Dark Lord had appreciated that extra skill; it had made him a more valuable element than the majority of his followers. It was because of his valuable skills that he had been allowed some of his ‘eccentricities’, as well as the chance to prove himself again when Voldemort returned, any other would have been dead at first sight.

Potter’s left knee and foot were in a terrible condition, the almost black coloring was disquieting. The bones shattered, damaging sinew, tendons, muscles, and nerves. Shards of bone had also pierced the skin at some point, but at least that seemed to be healing. He had not received any treatment, save for a crude and dirty bandage, and there were already signs of severe infection. Because of that, the boy was probably suffering from bouts of fever, although at the moment he did not have one. Snape could not help but wonder what happened to Potter to leave him in such condition, and what possessed those sorry excuses for human beings that were his relatives to deny him medical attention. The Potions Master could only think that perhaps they worried about all the questions that would arise at Harry’s condition.

Most of the damage he saw, fit with at least one, but probably more than that, beatings, but not the injuries sustained on his left leg. Anyway, he would find out later what happened. At the moment, he had to finish healing what he could, as he believed a specialized medi-witch or wizard should look at the leg; the damage went way beyond his scope of knowledge, so he just immobilized it with a localized version of the body bind spell. One rib needed to heal on its own, since the fracture was too old to treat successfully with magic, and the same applied to most bruises. The elbow, skull crack, and other ribs were relatively easy to heal, and with the right potions, the boy would be as good as new in a few of days. The last he did was pop the shoulder in place, his previous numbing spell making it painless.

Once finished he finally realized that not only the cupboard stunk, Harry too smelled badly. More than an hour cooped up with the smelly teenager in his Land Rover would be a nightmare, even with the windows open. Severus applied a simple cleaning charm that took care of the smell and some of the dirt, but a bath was still necessary. Besides, he suspected the bath would relax muscles that had been in pain too long, and the boy might actually enjoy it. He did not usually let the kinder part of his nature show, but he felt Potter had already been through enough. Besides making sure of his well being was part of being his legal guardian, and he might as well start taking the responsibility. Taking advantage that the muggles were still out, he levitated the boy upstairs.

“Where are we going Sir?” Harry managed to ask weakly. He was surprised at being taken upstairs.

“You stink Potter,” Severus told him, trying to keep his tone neutral. At the moment, there was no need to overly embarrass the boy, at least not more than he was going to be when he realized that his hated Professor was going to assist him in taking a bath.

“I’m sorry Sir,” he muttered. Not really comprehending what the Potions Master had meant with that statement.

“No need to apologize. I assume you had no choice in the matter.” The boy’s eyes had widened at hearing him, he probably expected to be called to task for not being able to bathe. “Now which door is the bathroom?”

“Second door on the left… but… I… I don’t… I… can’t…” Harry stuttered when he realized that in his condition he would not be able to wash himself.

“I know that boy,” he snapped. To his surprise, Potter cringed slightly and he frowned. “I shall assist you.”

“I… umm… you… really… it’s not necessary,” he managed to say as he heard the water start to fill the tub.

“Nonsense boy, you do need a bath.” His tone left no room for argument and Potter surprised him again by not arguing, just turning a bright shade of red in embarrassment.

Severus settled the boy on the toilet while he looked around the bathroom. He found hair shampoo, soap and a strawberry scented bubble bath. Thinking a bit, he decided to add some of it to the filling tub. It would provide the boy with some privacy, even though he would end smelling like a girl, an improvement over his present odor for sure, though Potter might not like it one bit. At the moment, he was in no position to argue. When the tub was full, he levitated the boy into it clothes and all earning an undignified squeak. Once settled he removed the kid’s clothes with a spell.

Potter did manage to wash most of himself with only one working arm, so Severus only assisted him with his back and hair. After he finished, he used a spell to change the dirty water for clean and let the boy soak a bit in warm water. Potter did relax and even sighed in contentment once he got over the embarrassment of having his most hated Professor helping him bathe. Harry should have taken that time to think, there were quite a few things to ask about. But he was not up to thinking straight yet. He was weak and his mind fogged. He had been feeling like that after the vision he had the day Dudley fell on him. Since then he had three other visions and it took him quite a long time to dispel the fog in his brain. The latest had only been last night, so he hoped that Snape would explain why he was there without him having to ask any questions.

Severus noticed that his suspicions about the boy being black and blue all over were true. Also, Harry was even smaller than he originally thought, and much too thin for his age. His bulky clothes certainly covered that fact. After he mentioned it, the boy finally accepted that he had barely eaten since he arrived and that it was probably a week since his last ration; and he had only drunk a couple of glasses of water a day. It was after this admission that the Professor finally understood why the boy had barely grown since his first year, malnourishment, when prolonged, tended to inhibit growth and he had little doubt that that was the case. Snape was a bit surprised that Potter had barely spoken, but he attributed it to being weak, and probably dazed by the contusion and crack on his skull.

After some time, Severus resized the trunk, and took out some of the boy’s worn muggle clothes for him to dress in. He then transfigured some of the bathroom necessities into bandages for his ribs and arm, and a sling for the right arm. When they were done, the older wizard descended the stairs levitating the frail boy and deposited him carefully on the couch again. A cursory glance in their direction told him the muggles were still out, he must have put a lot more emotion, anger, into those stupefy than he originally intended. But he had seldom been so angry, and not just at them. He was so angry with himself for not noticing the boy’s situation and adding his own brand of abuse on top of what he got at his relative’s house, and was furious with Dumbledore too. The Headmaster was going to hear a few choice words from him as soon as he could contact him.

Before leaving Severus decided to inform Nan, she would need to make some changes on what she planned for dinner. Potter needed to be re-introduced to solid foods, for the first couple of days, so probably a broth of some kind would do. He intended to get the boy eating again as soon as possible to aid his recovery. He also needed some standard potions to complement his spells and try to speed the bones healing, a painkiller, something to help nourish him faster, salve for the bruises and muscular pain, and he would have to look for a good potion to combat the infection. Several came to mind, but he was not sure which one would work best with the kind of infection the boy had, his diagnosis spell had not told him how extensive it was. Besides, even if he had to have a crash refresher course in healing since the start of the summer, courtesy of the Dark Lord, it had been a long time since he had to medicate someone, including himself. In addition, the medi-wizard or witch that tended to his leg might have a different concoction in mind. Those potions he did not have in stock, his old nurse could prepare.

It was Nan who first introduced him to potion making and encouraged him when she discovered he had the aptitude. She was no master, but she was good enough that he would use any potion she brewed without thinking about it twice. Severus sat on the other side of the couch where he put Harry, took out his muggle mobile phone, and dialed home. There was no need to give those despicable muggles a way to locate him by using their phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's glasses were destroyed in the accident that broke some of his bones and left his leg a mess about a week ago, or at least he thought it had been a week. That had become the usual interval between his outings to do chores since the summer started. And what a summer it had been so far, with painful visions of Voldemort almost every other day; and nightmares of the third task the rest of the time, he had barely had a couple of restful hours of sleep. He had also been suffering the after effects of the cruciatus from his visions, so his coordination was completely off most of the time. To make things worse tripping down the stairs along with Dudley had almost killed him. Especially because his whale of a cousin landed on top of him and while they fell, he rolled over him several times too, thus causing more damage than a normal fall should. He still had no clue how that happened.

Aunt Petunia decided he was faking most of his injuries and that it would be a waste of time and money to take him to the hospital to treat those that did look ugly, like his knee. She also determined the glasses were a lost case, so after beating him for tripping her poor Duddykins, Petunia threw them in the rubbish can.

His uncle’s fist had also a say later that day, accusing him of wanting to kill his son. Harry would have laughed at the irony of it, since it was him who felt barely alive. No longer was he 'the-boy-who-lived' but ‘the-boy-who-almost-became-a-human-pancake’. That night after his punishment he was thrown back in the cupboard, where he had been staying since he returned for the summer, and had not come out until that day.

Without his glasses, Harry was as blind as a bat. Because of that, and the fact that he had not been thinking clearly for a while, he had not really noticed that Professor Snape was not a dark blur as he was supposed to be. No one had ever seen him wearing anything but black robes and clothes at Hogwarts, that he would actually wear any other color would have been unthinkable by students and probably some faculty members.

As he lay on the couch, Harry began to take notice and realized that where the Professor sat, there was a light blue-darker blue blur. It puzzled him and he wished he could see clearly. It was not that he had had not identified the man. His voice as well as his sarcasm were easily recognizable, but the light coloring of the clothing was… disconcerting. There were also some things he should have asked from the beginning, like why was he there? Where were they going? Why had he taken care of him? He had been kind, in a Snape-ish sort of way, despite his sarcasm. He had also been quite gentle when he took care of his injuries and while he helped him in the bath. Harry however, had been still too out of it with the effects of prolonged pain and hunger, and it was a wonder he could think.

Things became more disconcerting when he heard the man talk to someone he called ‘Nan’ and ask this person to get them several potions. It was then that he realized that Snape was pressing a shiny silvery object to the area where his ear was supposed to be. He could not suppress the thoughtful frown while he tried to think what the thing was.

“What are you frowning at Mr. Potter?” Severus snapped at the boy who visibly flinched, after he finished talking. Good at least he still reacted as he used to at school to his tone of voice, but he worried that his eyes were a bit glazed and unfocused.

“Is that thing a… a muggle mobile phone? Why aren’t you a black blur instead of a blue one? What are you doing here Professor? Why…” Harry let out in a stream, worried that if he stopped the ill-tempered wizard would not deign to listen, much less respond to his questions.

“Mr. Potter I think that was the longest continuous set of words I’ve heard you utter in four years,” he said sarcastically.

Harry glared at him, or at least in the general direction of where his head was supposed to be. Severus was a bit puzzled about the blur part of the questions until he noticed the boy was not wearing his glasses. He was pleased to notice that Potter was coherent enough to ask questions, despite his glazed eyes. He attributed the unfocused look to the lack of his glasses. It also seemed that the crack on is head did no damage to the brain, but then he always believed the brat had a thicker skull than most people did.

“To answer your first question, yes it’s a perfectly functional muggle mobile phone…”

“But… you… how?” Harry stuttered confused.

“Back to incomplete sentences are we?” Severus sneered but then realized that if the boy was speaking of seeing blurs it probably went unnoticed. “Contrary to popular belief Mr. Potter, I don’t hate muggles… well at least not all of them,” he glared with contempt at the still unconscious woman and the… boy. “I find muggle technology quite fascinating and ingenious, but unlike that fool Arthur Weasley. I take the time to investigate what the things are used for. I REFRAIN from charming or be-spelling the things until I KNOW what they are supposed to do and I am certain a spell would make them more efficient. Also I don’t dress in black all the time outside the school.” Harry’s eyebrows shot almost to his hairline at all those admissions; he would have never thought any of it possible. Snape allowed himself a pleased smile; after all, the kid could not see him. “What? Speechless now? And tell me Potter, where are your glasses?”

“My glasses are probably in the rubbish Sir.” Harry responded softly, and then went on explaining, as he did not want him to think he had almost been beaten to death. His uncle had done that a couple of times before, but that was not the reason for his injuries this time. Besides admitting to being abused would amount in his eyes to admit being weak and unable to defend himself from mere muggles. “Dudley fell on me down the stairs last week; at least I think it was last week. They were broken beyond repair according to my aunt, and I’m not allowed to use magic or I might have tried to fix them,” he responded with half a shrug, his right shoulder still not working properly. Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise, that… thing fell on top of Potter, and he was still alive? Ok the boy was quite mauled, but still alive, and it explained the condition of his knee and ankle. It probably took the brunt of the whale boy’s weight when they finally landed. “Why are you here Sir?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to pick you up. The wards around the house have been weakening slowly and it’s no longer safe. Now, we better get going, I have no wish of being caught in a traffic jam.” The last comment was more to himself than to the boy. Still Harry heard it, and it puzzled him. Since when did wizards worried about muggle traffic? Unless he was talking about broomstick traffic, although that sounded a bit farfetched.

“Traffic jam? Aren’t we going back to Hogwarts?”

“No, not for a few days at least; I have some pending business in muggle London. Besides, Poppy just left earlier today for a vacation in the Bahamas… or was it Puerto Rico? ” He shrugged since he had been in such a hurry to leave the infirmary the last couple of days that he really did not pay attention to the medi-witch’s inane babble. “So there’s no one to take care of you there. Where’s your owl?” He asked changing the subject.

“I left her at Hogwarts Sir. I’m sure Dudley would have found a way to hurt Hedwig if she came with me.”

“From what I saw, I wouldn’t doubt it,” he agreed absentmindedly. He was forgetting something important to do before the left. Then he remembered that to keep Harry protected while in muggle London and with him, they needed to transfer the remaining wards, and sign the apprenticeship contract.

‘He’s not going to like it anymore than I did, but might as well get it over with while he still a bit dazed.’ According to Dumbledore, both the teen and he had to sign the apprenticeship contract and one other parchment for the wards to transfer. He had asked where the wards were supposed to transfer to but had not received an answer. ‘It had something to do with me being the guardian and substituting the blood relations,’ he sighed and shook his head in confusion. ‘Albus was so damn vague about explaining this part, I really don’t like it but… it seems there’s no other way if the boy is to be protected.’

“Mr. Potter I need you to sign some papers before we go out,” he told the boy without preamble.

“Sign? What for?” Harry asked confused. “Besides I don’t think I can, I’m right handed Sir and I my arm doesn’t respond yet.”

“Don’t worry about the arm; just touching the document in the right place will authenticate you. I will also need a drop of your blood.” The blood part bothered Severus a bit, he was sure it was not needed in an apprenticeship contract or a guardianship transfer, but Dumbledore had stressed the importance of this part.

“And what am I supposed to sign?” the boy asked with a frown.

It was not that Harry did not trust Snape, because oddly enough he did. After all, the man had saved his life several times. It was just that he never had to sign anything before leaving the Dursleys. Also at the moment, he could not read what he had to sign.

“The Headmaster decided that you needed more specific training in Defense Against the Dark Arts among other things. When he petitioned the Ministry of Magic to authorize those extra courses, they refused to deviate from the school plan in any form. Personally, I think Fudge is just trying to complicate things by being a complete imbecile and refuse to acknowledge the Dark Lord's return. Therefore, the only way available for you to obtain this kind of training is if a Master takes you as his or her apprentice.”

“Well the Minister IS a moron,” Harry agreed. He had developed a strong dislike of Cornelius Fudge. “A Master? But…”

“Yes, a Master boy. This is because a Master has complete freedom of choice over what to teach and when, the Ministry can’t interfere, nor can it break a contract once it’s signed. As an apprentice, you won’t be taking lessons with the rest of the school. Yours are to be more personal and intensive. Your duties and responsibilities are not many; you must LEARN and OBEY your Master, and that’s about everything you have to do.”

“That doesn’t sound like too much to ask,” Harry commented.

“No it’s not; although I believe that with your history, the obeying part might give you trouble Potter.” The boy glared at him. “In return, the Master will not only teach you what you need, he will provide and protect you. Although some might want to make you earn your keep. Since you’re still underage the Master becomes your legal guardian, although even after you reach majority you will remain an apprentice until you can pass the Mastery exams, or the contract is revoked by mutual consent.”

“Umm, obeying won’t be a problem I think, though it doesn’t seem the Master gets a lot out of this.” Harry muttered. He was used to do what the adult Dursleys ordered, even though at Hogwarts he rebelled when Hermione and Ron were around.

“It appears so, but this is designed to guarantee that knowledge won’t be lost. This is a very ancient custom that has not changed since it started more than three thousand years ago. It still serves the same purpose now. Besides, as I said, the Master might want you to earn your keep.”

“That’s no problem either, I’ve earned my keep since I was about four or five, so nothing new there, regardless of what THEY might say,” Being an apprentice did not sound bad, and at the moment Harry really did not want to think too much. His head was beginning to throb, and most of his other injuries were also starting to hurt, the charm was probably wearing off. “What about the Dursleys?”

“You won’t see them again, since the Master will assume your legal custody as I said before. Your… aunt has already signed the release and transfer of her rights as guardian. Also once you’re apprenticed the restriction about underage wizards using magic is not applicable anymore.”

“Where do I sign?” Harry asked eagerly, those last words really did the trick.

He would be able to do magic all year long, and not see the Dursleys anymore. He really could not think anything could beat that; and he trusted Dumbledore, so he did not think he would end with someone that was worse than his relatives were. There was also the fact that he would do almost anything to get away from them. Especially his aunt, the woman was vicious; she starved him and took advantage of his weakened condition to beat him. If he had no energy to run, then he could not escape or fight her. Vernon was loud and obnoxious, but he usually was too lazy to give him a beating. That was unless his aunt demanded it, or Dudley got hurt, like when they fell down the stair, even if it was not his fault at all. Vernon could inflict real damage; the man was built like an ox, and whenever he got involved things got really ugly, thankfully, it was not often or he would probably have died at some point. That summer he had only punished him twice so he counted himself lucky. There were also Dudley and his cronies, with their constant bullying, but they were not home most of the time, and as long as he was able to run, climb a tree or a convenient lamppost, he had no trouble escaping from them.

Getting Potter to sign was easier than he thought, although from what he had been able to see, Severus really did not blame the tiny teen for wanting to put as much distance between his magic hating relatives and himself. He omitted telling Harry he was the Master and was glad the boy had not yet asked who he was apprenticed to. Still, if Potter found out before sealing the contract, Snape was sure the boy would refuse to sign. After all, he had verbally tormented and ridiculed him in the lapse of four years. But no matter how he had treated the boy at Hogwarts, the older wizard would never subject him to beatings, starvation, being locked in a cupboard or deny him medical attention. Even Voldemort’s prisoners got to eat at least once a day most of the time. Severus was positive that what he offered Harry was a vast improvement over his actual situation; Potter might get to see it that way in time.

Severus took the boy’s hand and placed it on the parchment, his name appeared immediately on the paper. He then picked the boy’s index finger and after transfiguring an ash tray into a needle he prickled said digit and placed a small drop of blood in the proper place on another parchment. Then signed his own name beside Potter's on the contract, transfigured another object into a needle and put a drop of his blood on top of the boy’s. For a moment, nothing happened, then some reddish mist started coming out of the combined blood drops. It enveloped the both of them swirling lazily and expanding until it covered the whole house and slowly receded to be completely absorbed by their bodies.

“What the hell?” Severus exclaimed clearly surprised, in his experience, an apprenticeship contract did not produce such results; neither did any wards he knew. And he knew almost all of those placed on the house, as he had helped Albus research them. “This isn’t part of the contract, what did you do Albus?” He muttered.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen?” Harry asked worried. Not being able to see much he had not noticed that Snape had signed and used his own blood on the parchment. He had not just seen the red mist; he actually felt a warm tingly feeling all over as his body absorbed it. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Snape asked raising a skeptical eyebrow, although the effect was lost since Harry could not see it.

“I seem to have botched it somehow. Would the wizard Master I’m to be apprenticed with be very angry?” There was fear in his voice.

Severus looked at the parchment; it had already stamped itself with the proper Ministry seals, the time and date of the signature and created three copies. He guessed it was not ruined.

“It doesn’t look ruined to me. In fact, a copy has just transported itself. My guess is that it’s already at the corresponding Ministry office. We better leave Mr. Potter. It seems the wards are completely down now. Nothing should be able to apparate or portkey from inside the house if they were still on.” He said and picked the light boy carefully, making Harry squeak in surprise.

Severus tried not to jolt Potter too much, he had healed most of his injuries, but he still needed at least a couple of days to recover from some of them. He then made his way back to his Land Rover. He managed to open the door without the use of magic, there were too many children outside, some curious about the man taking the strange silent kid away, to risk being seen. Snape carefully settled Harry on the copilot’s seat and secured him with the safety belt; he then went to his side of the car, boarded and drove away from Privet Drive without looking back.

After about ¾ of an hour of silent driving Snape stopped at a petrol station, where he bought Harry one of those sports drinks (Gatorade) and ordered him to drink it slowly. He had a potion that was much better but he never would have thought he was going to need it. The drink would begin to hydrate the boy’s body and get his stomach used to having something inside. It had the added bonus that, due to its slight sugar content, Potter’s blood pressure might rise. It had been quite low when he checked the boy at the house, and it seemed quite low. He would feel slightly better and his head might start to clear. The drink worked after a while, and it was then that Harry realized that he had not even asked the name of the person he was to be apprenticed to.

“Umm… Sir… I was wondering… do you know who is to be my… Master?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter as a matter of fact I do.”

“So… umm… who’s this Master Wizard Professor?”

“I am,” he said glancing at the boy from the corner of his eye. Unlike Arthur Weasley, he had not charmed his SUV, so he needed to keep his eyes on the road. He noticed the boy’s horrified expression and could not hide his smirk.

‘No! No, no, no, no,’ Harry screamed mentally in shock at his own stupidity. ‘Why didn’t I ask before I signed? This is like jumping from the frying pan to the fire! Why did it have to be SNAPE of all people? The only one, besides Voldemort that is, that I can swear will be worse than the Dursleys!’

“But… but you said it was Defense Against the Dark Arts and you teach Potions! I’m no good at Potions!”

“I will be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts. I do have mastery on it as well and I’m approved by the Ministry to teach it,” when he mentioned the Ministry, his tone was more than slightly bitter. He was approved to teach the subject and yet the board of directors did not ‘allow’ him, an ex-Death Eater, to take the position.

“So the rumors were true,” Harry could not help mentioning. “You wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of Potions. Why didn’t you Sir? As far as I know, none of the other Professors were Masters. With the exception of Mad Eye Moody, but it wasn’t really him.”

“That position is neither something I want to discuss now nor any other time Mr. Potter. Abstain from making any reference to it in my presence. Regarding your Potion making skills, let me be the judge of that. You might not be such a waste of my time if you can deliver the same kind of essays you wrote during your first year,” he stated dryly while he mentally groaned at noticing that he had been unable to avoid the traffic jam.

‘Did he just compliment my work during first year?’ Harry thought gob smacked, a compliment from Snape to a Gryffindor was unheard of, especially if said Gryffindor went by the name of Harry James Potter. ‘I guess this is as close as he would come to one, at least towards me.’

“I will Professor, but… why did you accept to train me? You… I… we really don’t get along Sir,”

“Let me assure you Mr. Potter that I’m no more pleased by this… arrangement than you are, but…” he hesitated a bit before adding his next words. “The Headmaster has his ways of getting people to do what he wants. He got his mind set on this… so; there was no way around it.”

“Umm… I wonder if Professor Dumbledore finally went off his rocket,” Harry muttered, but Snape still heard him.

“It would seem so, although at times I really wonder if that man wasn’t really in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor.”

“On that I would have to agree wholeheartedly Sir, he IS too cunning for a Gryffindor.”

Harry's glasses were destroyed in the accident that broke some of his bones and left his leg a mess about a week ago, or at least he thought it had been a week. That had become the usual interval between his outings to do chores since the summer started. And what a summer it had been so far, with painful visions courtesy of Voldemort almost every other day; and nightmares of the third task the rest of the time, he had barely had a couple of restful hours of sleep. He had also been suffering the after effects of the cruciatus from his visions, so his coordination was completely off most of the time.

Harry would not have been in any condition to walk around, much less do any kind of chores because of the visions alone. However, the Dursleys really could not care less, except for the fact that he woke them up every time he had a vision, and Uncle Vernon dealt him a few punches -to keep him quiet- when that happened. Yeah right, like that would stop the bloody things. It was not as if he wanted to have them, but so far, he had not found a way to stop them. Over all, his relatives were meaner than before, mostly his aunt.

Aunt Petunia did not forget, and certainly would never forgive, the ton-tongue-toffee incident from the summer before. She decided to give him as little food as possible, to punish him for it; and that was besides using her normal arsenal of pans and brooms to ‘educate’, and keep him from ‘cursing’, and ‘contaminating’ her ‘little’ Duddykins.

She decided as soon as he set foot in the house, that he should go back to his cupboard and leave the room to Dudley. She, of course, did not take into consideration that Harry, the owl cage, and his trunk would compete for space in there. To make things worse tripping down the stairs along with Dudley had almost killed him. Especially because his whale of a cousin landed on top of him and while they fell, he rolled over him several times too, thus causing more damage than a normal fall should. He still had no clue how that came to happen.

Petunia decided Harry was faking most of his injuries, and that it would be a waste of time and money to take him to the hospital to treat those that did look ugly, like his knee. She only gave him some antiseptic to clean them up and a few bandages, telling him to be thankful that he got that much. She also determined the glasses were a lost case and she was not going to let Vernon waste money on buying him a new pair. Harry would have to do without, after beating him with the broomstick for tripping her poor Duddykins, Petunia threw the glasses in the rubbish can, and him back into the cupboard.

His uncle’s fist had a say also later that day. Vernon accused him of wanting to kill his son. Harry would have laughed at the irony of it, since it was him who felt barely alive. No longer was he 'the-boy-who-lived' but ‘the-boy-who-almost-became-a-human-pancake’. That night after his punishment, he was returned to cupboard with no food, not that they had fed him more than stale bread since he arrived, and he had had not come out until that day. To make things worse, that same night he had another vision. It had been the hardest to bear and watch so far. And it was after this one that he had trouble focusing his mind, and thinking straight for several hours after the visions ended.

Without his glasses, Harry was as blind as a bat. Because of that, and the fact that he had not been thinking clearly for a while, he had not really noticed that Professor Snape was not a black blur as he was supposed to be. No one had ever seen the Potions Master wearing anything but black robes and clothes at Hogwarts; the idea that he would actually wear any other color would have been unthinkable by students, and probably some faculty members.

As he lay on the couch, Harry began to take notice and realized that where the Professor sat, there was a bluish blur. It puzzled him and he wished he could see clearly. It was not that he had had not identified the man. His voice as well as his sarcasm were easily recognizable, but the light coloring of the clothing was… disconcerting. There were also some things he should have asked from the beginning, like why was he there? Where were they going? Why had he taken care of him? He had been kind, in a Snape-ish sort of way, despite his sarcasm. He had also been quite gentle when he took care of his injuries and while he helped him in the bath. He would not have thought the ‘greasy git’ capable of it. Harry however, was still too out of it with the effects of his vision, prolonged pain, and hunger; it really was a wonder he could think at all.

Things became more disconcerting when he heard the man talk to someone he called ‘Nan’ and ask this person to get them several potions. It was then that he realized that Snape was pressing a shiny silvery object to the area where his ear was supposed to be. He could not suppress the thoughtful frown while he tried to think what the thing was.

“What are you frowning at Mr. Potter?” Severus snapped at the boy who visibly flinched, and actually seemed to shy away from him, not like the Potter he was used to seeing at Hogwarts. He did not like it at all, and he also worried that the boy’s eyes were a bit glazed and unfocused; could the contusion be more serious than what the spell diagnosed?

“What are you doing here Professor? Is that thing a… a muggle mobile phone? Why aren’t you a black blur instead of a blue one? Why…” Harry let out in a stream, worried that if he stopped, the ill-tempered wizard would not deign to listen, much less respond to his questions. Although to be truthful, he did not believe Snape would respond to any of them. Still, he had to try, who knew? The git might actually answer for once.

“Mr. Potter I think that was the longest continuous set of words I’ve heard you utter in four years,” he said sarcastically.

Harry glared at him, or at least in the general direction of where his head was supposed to be. Severus was a bit puzzled about the blur part of the questions until he noticed the boy was not wearing his glasses, was Potter that blind? He was pleased to notice that the boy was coherent enough to ask questions, despite his glazed eyes. He then attributed the unfocused look to the lack of his glasses. It also seemed that the crack on is head did no damage to the brain, but then he always believed the brat had a thicker skull than most people did.

“To answer your question, yes it’s a perfectly functional muggle mobile phone…”

“But… you… how?” Harry stuttered confused.

“Back to incomplete sentences are we?” Severus sneered but then realized that if the boy was speaking of seeing blurs it probably went unnoticed. He also mentally chastised himself, had he not decided to stop verbally abusing the boy?He needed to change the way he addressed him, although in Potter’s condition, the boy might think he was hallucinating. “Contrary to popular belief Mr. Potter, I don’t hate muggles… well at least not all of them,” he glared with contempt at the still unconscious woman and the… boy. “I find muggle technology quite fascinating and ingenious; but unlike that fool Arthur Weasley, I take the time to investigate what the things are used for. I REFRAIN from charming or be-spelling the things until I KNOW what they are supposed to do and I am certain a spell would make them more efficient, otherwise I leave them the way they are. Also do you believe I dress in black all the time? Even outside the school?” Harry’s eyebrows shot almost to his hairline at all those admissions; he would have never thought any of it possible. Snape allowed himself a pleased smile; after all, the kid could not see him. “What? Speechless now?” He smirked letting amusement show in his voice; the boy was too easy to shock. “And tell me Potter, where are your glasses?”

“My glasses are probably in the rubbish Sir.” Harry responded softly, and then went on explaining, as he did not want him to think he had almost been beaten to death.

His uncle had done that a couple of times before, apart from the almost nightly punches when he woke them up, but to Harry those did not constitute a beating. However, that was not the reason for his injuries this time. Besides, admitting to being abused would amount in his eyes to admitting being weak and unable to defend himself from mere muggles. He did not think that was a good idea, considering the way the Potions Master had treated him before.

“Dudley fell on me down the stairs last week Sir; at least I think it was last week.” He muttered the last, and then went on. “According to my aunt, they were broken beyond repair. I’m not allowed to use magic or I might have tried to fix them,” he responded with half a shrug, his right shoulder still not working properly. Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise, that… thing fell on top of Potter, and he was still alive? Ok the boy was quite mauled, but still alive, and it explained the condition of his knee and ankle. It probably took the brunt of the whale boy’s weight when they finally landed. “Why are you here Sir?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to pick you up. The wards around the house have been weakening slowly since the summer break started. It’s no longer safe for you to stay here.” At that the boy had laughed bitterly, it was rather ironic to mention it “Potter?”

“It’s nothing Sir, don’t mind me?” Harry told Snape. He had never been safe there, and now the man knew it. The Potions Master decided to humor the boy and went on as if nothing happened.

“We better get going; I have no wish of being caught in a traffic jam.” The last comment was more to himself than to the boy. Still Harry heard it, and it puzzled him. Since when did wizards worried about muggle traffic? Was he talking about broom traffic? That sounded a bit farfetched though.

“Traffic jam? Aren’t we going back to Hogwarts Sir?” He asked, noticing that his brain was less foggy and he was able to sound more coherent.

“No, not for a few days at least; I have some pending business in muggle London.” Severus decided to explain, and saw the boy frown as he processed that bit of information, though he was again surprised that he did not ask about it. “Besides, Poppy just left yesterday for a vacation in the Bahamas… or was it Puerto Rico?” He shrugged since he had been in such a hurry to leave the infirmary the last couple of days that he really did not pay attention to the medi-witch’s inane babble about her sunny vacation. “There’s no one to take care of you at the school. Where’s your owl?” He asked changing the subject.

“I left her at Hogwarts Sir. I’m sure Dudley would have found a way to hurt Hedwig if she came with me.”

“From what I saw, I wouldn’t doubt it,” he agreed absentmindedly. He was forgetting something important to do before the left. Then he remembered that to keep Harry protected while in muggle London and with him, they needed to transfer the remaining wards, and sign the apprenticeship contract.

‘If I tell him I’m to be his Master, the brat’s not going to like it anymore than I did, but might as well get it over with while he still a bit dazed. He probably won’t ask.’

According to Dumbledore, both the teen and he had to sign the apprenticeship contract and one other parchment for the wards to transfer. He had asked where the wards were supposed to transfer to but had not received an answer. Trust Albus to avoid explaining things clearly.

‘It had something to do with me being the guardian, and substituting the blood relations,’ he sighed and shook his head in confusion. ‘Albus was so damn vague about explaining this part, I really don’t like it but… it seems there’s no other way if the boy is to be protected.’

“Mr. Potter I need you to sign some papers before we go out,” he told the boy without preamble.

“Sign? What for?” Harry asked confused. “Besides I don’t think I can, I’m right handed Sir, and I my arm doesn’t respond yet.”

“Don’t worry about the arm; just touching the document in the right place will authenticate you. I will also need three drops of your blood.”

The blood part bothered Severus quite a bit. He could not shake the feeling that he would get more than he bargained for because of it. He was also sure blood was not required in any apprenticeship contract or a guardianship transfer. He had mentioned it to Dumbledore, but the only thing he got in response was the old wizard stressing the utter importance of this part.

“And what am I supposed to sign?” the boy asked with a frown.

It was not that Harry did not trust Snape, because oddly enough he did. After all, the older wizard had saved his life several times. Because of his visions, he had proof of the man’s loyalty to the light side, and knew how much the Potions Master was willing to sacrifice to keep him safe regardless of their mutual dislike. It was just that he never had to sign anything before leaving the Dursleys. Also, at the moment, he could not read what he had to sign, so he had no real way of knowing what he was committing to do.

“The Headmaster decided that you need more specific training in Defense Against the Dark Arts among other things. When he petitioned the Ministry of Magic to authorize those extra courses, they refused to deviate from the school plan in any form. Personally, I think Fudge is just trying to complicate things by being a complete imbecile and refuse to acknowledge the Dark Lord's return. Therefore, the only way available for you to obtain this kind of training is if a Master takes you as his apprentice.”

“Well the Minister IS a moron,” Harry agreed. He had developed a strong dislike of Cornelius Fudge. “But… a Master?”

“Yes, a Master boy.” Harry could not help but cringe a bit at hearing that word.

Boy and freak were the only things the Dursleys had called him all this summer, and what either uncle Vernon or aunt Petunia called him before punishing him since he was sent to live with them. He had unconsciously begun to associate the word with at least a slap. Severus noticed his reaction and had his belief that the abuse had been going on for some time confirmed. He could not help but sigh. He was not the right person to deal with Potter, no matter that he already admitted to himself that he had to modify his behavior towards the child; he knew it was not going to happen overnight. He did have very little patience and one hell of a temper after all; they were not part of the act. For Potter’s sake, Severus would try a more neutral tone while speaking with him, and avoid using the word boy for the time being. He really did not need to deal with a scared child.

“A Master has complete freedom to choose what to teach and when,” he went on explaining in his lecture voice. “The Ministry can’t interfere, nor can it break a contract once it’s signed. As an apprentice, you won’t be taking lessons with the rest of the school. In fact, you would no longer be considered a student, though you’ll still live at Hogwarts. Your lessons are to be more personal and intensive. Your duties and responsibilities are not many; you must LEARN, OBEY, and ASSIST your Master, that’s about everything you have to do.”

“That doesn’t sound like too much to ask,” Harry commented thoughtfully.

“No it’s not; although I believe that with your history, the obeying part might give you trouble Potter.” The boy glared at him. “In return, the Master will not only teach you what you need, but also most of what he knows of his Mastery subject. He will provide for you and protect you if the need arises. Although some might want to make you earn your keep.” Severus added.

The thought occurred to him that having an assistant while experimenting or brewing some of the most complicated potions would be a valuable asset. He could leave the bothersome tasks of preparing the ingredients to Potter, those tasks were always time consuming when what he really wanted was to start the actual brewing. Suddenly having an apprentice did not sound as bad as he had thought only that morning.

“Since you’re still underage the Master becomes your legal guardian, although even after you reach majority you will remain an apprentice until you can pass the Mastery exams for which you were trained, or the contract is revoked by mutual consent.”

“Umm, obeying won’t be a problem I think, though it doesn’t seem the Master gets a lot out of this.” He muttered.

Harry was used to do what the adult Dursleys ordered, even though at Hogwarts he rebelled when Hermione and Ron were around. Being with them let him free his natural curiosity, question things, and do something about it. However, he fought not to do anything of the sort when he was with his relatives. Questioning their orders on a good day usually ended in a few days without food. On a bad day… he rather not think about it.

“It appears so, but this is designed to guarantee that knowledge won’t be lost. This is a very ancient custom that has not changed since it started more than three thousand years ago; it’s not that common anymore, though not unheard of. However, it still serves the same purpose, and it’s believed those trained this way are superior in knowledge, magical power, and experience than those who studied at higher education magical schools.” At the boy’s puzzled look he explained. “They are much like muggle universities. Besides, as I said, the Master might want you to earn your keep.”

“That’s no problem either Sir. I’ve earned my keep since I was about four or five, so nothing new there, regardless of what THEY might say.” Being an apprentice did not sound bad, and at the moment Harry really did not want to think too much. His head was beginning to throb, and most of his other injuries were also starting to hurt, the charm was probably wearing off. “What about the Dursleys?”

“You won’t see them again, since the Master will assume your legal custody as I said before. Your… aunt has already signed the release and transfer of her rights as guardian. Also once you’re apprenticed the restriction about underage wizards using magic is not applicable anymore.”

“Where do I sign?” Harry asked eagerly, those last words really did the trick.

He would be able to do magic all year long, and not see the Dursleys anymore. He really could not think anything could beat that; and he trusted Dumbledore, so he did not think he would end with someone that was worse than his relatives were. There was also the fact that he would do almost anything to get away from them. Especially his aunt, the woman was vicious; she starved him and took advantage of his weakened condition to beat him. If he had no energy to run, then he could not escape or fight her. Vernon was loud and obnoxious, but he usually was too lazy to give him a beating. That was unless his aunt demanded it, or Dudley got hurt, like when they fell down the stairs, even if it was not his fault at all.

When Vernon deigned to move, he could inflict real damage -the man was built like an ox- and on those occasions he got involved things got really ugly. Thankfully, it was not often or he would probably have died at some point. That summer he had only punished him three times, so he counted himself lucky. The almost nightly punches really did not count for much; Vernon was tired and sleepy so he did not use his full force. They were mostly the man’s version of a slap; he had been on the receiving end of those for years, so he could deal with them most of the time if Voldie had not been particularly nasty. There were also Dudley and his cronies, with their constant bullying, but they were not home most of the time, and as long as he was able to run, climb a tree or a convenient lamppost, he had no trouble escaping from them.

Getting Potter to sign was easier than he thought, although from what he had been able to see, Severus really did not blame the tiny teen for wanting to put as much distance between his magic hating relatives and himself. He omitted telling Harry he was the Master and was glad the boy had not yet asked to whom he was apprenticed to. Still, if Potter found out before sealing the contract, Snape was sure the boy would refuse to sign. After all, he had verbally tormented and ridiculed him in the lapse of four years. But no matter how he had treated the boy at Hogwarts, the older wizard would never subject him to beatings, starvation, being locked in a cupboard, or deny him medical attention. Even Voldemort’s prisoners got to eat at least once a day most of the time. Severus was positive that what he offered was a vast improvement over his actual situation; Potter might get to see it that way in time.

Severus took the boy’s hand and placed it on the parchment, his name appeared immediately on the paper. He then picked the boy’s index finger and after transfiguring an ash tray into a needle he prickled said digit and placed three small drops of blood in the proper place, on top of his aunt’s, on another parchment. Then signed his own name beside Potter's on the contract, transfigured another object into a needle and put the same amount of his blood on top of the boy’s. For a moment, nothing happened, then some reddish mist started coming out of the combined blood drops. It enveloped the both of them swirling lazily and expanding until it covered the whole house and slowly receded to be completely absorbed by their bodies.

“What the hell?” Severus exclaimed clearly surprised, in his experience, an apprenticeship contract did not produce such results; neither did any wards he knew. And he knew almost all of those placed on the house, as he had helped Albus research them. “This isn’t part of the contract, what did you do Albus?” He muttered.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen?” Harry asked worried. Not being able to see much he had not noticed that Snape had signed and used his own blood on the parchment. He had not just seen the red mist; he actually felt a warm tingly feeling all over as his body absorbed it. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Snape asked raising a skeptical eyebrow, although the effect was lost since Harry could not see it.

“I seem to have botched it somehow. Would the wizard Master I’m to be apprenticed with be very angry?” There was fear in his voice.

Severus looked at the parchments; they had already stamped themselves with the proper Ministry seals, the time and date of the signature and created three copies. He guessed they were not ruined.

“They don’t look ruined to me. In fact, the copies have just transported themselves. My guess is that they are already at the corresponding Ministry office. We better leave Mr. Potter. It seems the wards are completely down now. Nothing should be able to apparate or portkey from inside the house if they were still on.” He said and picked the light boy carefully, making Harry squeak in surprise.

Severus tried not to jolt the boy too much, he had healed most of his injuries, but he still needed at least a couple of days to recover from some of them. He then made his way back to his Land Rover, leaving the muggles still stupefied. Snape had no intention of allowing them to move. With any luck, for them that is, the spell should wear off sometime later that day. He managed to open the door without the use of magic, there were too many children outside, some curious about the man taking the strange silent kid away, to risk being seen. Severus carefully settled Harry on the passenger’s seat and secured him with the safety belt; he then went to his side of the car, boarded and drove away from Privet Drive without looking back.

After about ¾ of an hour of silent driving Snape stopped at a petrol station, where he bought Harry one of those sports drinks, the boy was dehydrated on top of everything, he ordered the child to drink it slowly. He also needed to re-apply the numbing charm. He had a potion that was much better but he never would have thought he was going to need it. The drink would begin to hydrate the boy’s body and get his stomach used to having something inside. It had the added bonus that, due to its slight sugar content, Potter’s blood pressure might rise. It had been low when he checked the boy at the house, and it seemed to be still quite low at the moment.Potter would feel slightly better and his head might start to clear. The drink worked after a while, and it was then that Harry realized that he had not even asked the name of the person he was to be apprenticed to.

“Umm… Sir… I was wondering… do you know who is to be my… umm… Master?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter as a matter of fact I do.”

“So… umm… who’s this Master Wizard Professor?”

“I am,” he said glancing at the boy from the corner of his eye. Unlike Arthur Weasley, he had not charmed his SUV, so he needed to keep his eyes on the road, and both hands on the steering wheel. He noticed the boy’s horrified expression and could not hide his smirk.

‘No! No, no, no, no,’ Harry screamed mentally in shock at his own stupidity. ‘Why didn’t I ask before I signed? This is like jumping from the frying pan to the fire! Why did it have to be SNAPE of all people? The only one, besides Voldemort that is, that I can swear will be worse than the Dursleys!’

‘He wasn’t that bad a while ago,’ a mental voice that sounded a bit like Hermione reminded him. ‘Wouldn’t you say he was almost gentle in the way he handled your injuries?’

‘Oh shut up! It’s Snape for crying out loud! He and gentle on the same sentence isn’t possible!’ Harry argued with the Hermione-like mental voice.

‘Give the man a chance, do you REALLY think he’d be worse than the Dursleys?’ the voice insisted.

“But… but you said it was Defense Against the Dark Arts and you teach Potions! I’m no good at Potions!”

“I will be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts Mr. Potter. I do have mastery on it and I’m approved by the Ministry to teach it,” when he mentioned the Ministry, his tone was more than slightly bitter. He was approved to teach the subject and yet the board of directors did not ‘allow’ him, an ex-Death Eater, to take the position. Those dunderheads might have actually learned something if they had only allowed him to teach the subject.

“So the rumors were true,” Harry could not help mentioning. “You wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of Potions. Why didn’t you Sir? As far as I know, none of the other Professors were Masters. With the exception of Mad Eye Moody, but it wasn’t really him.”

“That position is neither something I want to discuss now, nor any other time Mr. Potter. Abstain from making any reference to it in my presence. Regarding your Potion making skills, let me be the judge of that. You might not be such a waste of my time if you can deliver the same kind of essays you wrote during your first year, and pay attention to what you’re doing when you’re brewing the potion,” he stated dryly while he mentally groaned at noticing that he had been unable to avoid the traffic jam.

‘Did he just compliment my work during first year?’ Harry thought gob smacked, a compliment from Snape to a Gryffindor was unheard of, especially if said Gryffindor went by the name of Harry James Potter. ‘I guess this is as close as he would come to one, at least towards me.’

“I will Professor, but… why did you accept to train me? You… I… we really don’t get along Sir,”

“Let me assure you Mr. Potter that I’m no more pleased by this… arrangement than you are, but…” he hesitated a bit before adding his next words. “The Headmaster has his ways of getting people to do what he wants. He got his mind set on this… so; there was no way around it.”

“Umm… I wonder if Professor Dumbledore finally went off his rocket,” Harry muttered, but Snape still heard him.

“It would seem so, although at times I really wonder if that man wasn’t really in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor.”

“On that I would have to agree wholeheartedly Sir, he IS too cunning for a Gryffindor.”

The rest of the drive was relatively uneventful except when the traffic got heavier, something Harry did not think that could have been possible. He could not see more than blurs outside the window, but noticed the vehicle they were in moved much slower than it had been doing. He sighed and got more comfortable. The car seat was such an improvement over his previous bed, and the temperature inside was cool –he felt on his face the slight breeze of the air conditioner– it was a respite over the oven-like temperatures his cupboard had reached the past weeks. Those things, added to his lack of sleep, and the fact that he was finally feeling almost no pain, contrived to lull Harry into a light doze, despite all the questions that were forming in his mind.

Snape noticed the boy had fallen into a light sleep, and considered going the whole trip back to his flat in silence. But in the end, he decided to turn on the car stereo to take his mind of things. There was just too much to think about, and he needed to tackle each problem one at a time. Under normal circumstances -at least normal for him- Severus could take on several different problems at a time. But when those problems involved completely revising his views, feelings and attitudes towards someone or something he needed to go slower. That kind of introspection was hard for him.

For the moment, the Potions Master decided to concentrate on what actions were needed immediately, and he hoped the background music would distract his mind and keep it from wandering to questions and areas he was not ready to deal with. Attending to the boy’s physical condition was his first priority, and he was reluctant to take him to St. Mungos. He was sure the Death Eaters would probably be on the lookout for him there, given his condition when the light rescued him. Appearing with an injured 'boy-who-lived' was like gift wrapping them both for Voldemort.

It was while thinking that he needed a trusty medi-witch or wizard that did house-calls when Severus remembered that one of his cousins in law, on his mother’s side of the family, was a medi-wizard, a very good one in fact. Eldon Lloyd was in charge of the non-magical accidents in St. Mungos, or at least he had been the last time he talked to the man about a year or so ago. He then made a mental note to either owl Eldon or ask Nan to fire-call him later. He knew he could count on his discretion and that was something he was sure Albus would want in this situation.

At the thought of the Headmaster his mind began wandering into those problems he did not want to think about; like the best way to give the old coot a piece of his mind with the highest shock value. Severus focused his attention on the music instead, as he did not want to deal with it that at the moment; out of consideration for the teen boy he had left the volume low. One of his favorite songs, a classic by Queen* – Bohemian Rhapsody* - was playing, so he went through the lyrics in his head and even dared to hum under his breath. Potter was asleep after all, he probably would not notice. And if he did, well, he better begin getting used to it. He liked music and was not going to do without just because the boy was his apprentice.

Harry had been dozing slightly, and the soft sounds woke him up. He was a bit disoriented for a few seconds and he thought he was still at the Dursleys. It was the music that finally told him he was not there anymore. No one at their house listened to that type of music. The boy then remembered that he was in a car, which Snape was driving, and the Potions Master was taking him to his place in London.

‘SNAPE is driving!’ His brain finally caught up with him. Somehow he had not processed that the Potions Master was a pureblooded wizard and as such should not know how to drive. ‘I never thought the ‘greasy git’ would even come close to a car, much less know how to drive and actually do it like any muggle.’ Well he guessed he was doing it like any muggle, so far they had not crashed, no one had honked their horns at them nor had any traffic officers stopped them.

‘Didn’t he tell you he found muggle technology fascinating at the Dursleys? And that he had things to DO in muggle London?’ The Hermione-like voice reminded him.

‘He did, but…’

‘Well then there’s your answer. How can he do things in muggle London if he doesn’t know how to pass as a muggle?’ he gave a mental sigh. Something was definitely wrong with him if he was talking to himself like this. ‘I think all of this is going to take some adjusting.’

To the driving, and the man finding muggle technology interesting, he had to add that the kind of music he was hearing, -and was that soft sound humming? - was definitely NOT what he would have expected the surly Potions Master to listen to. First, it never occurred to him, as it probably had not to any student the man ever taught, that Snape might like music. Second, well all right the man liked it, but… it was not classical, as he believed someone like him would probably listen to, with how he and the dungeons looked… Third, it was rock or something of the sort. That much he knew from the time he had lived at his relatives’ house. Dudley sometimes heard something similar when he was watching that music channel* on the telly. In all, it was becoming apparent that the man beside him did not conform to the image his students, and probably the Death Eaters had of him.

As they made slow progress towards wherever they were going, Harry decided that trying to figure out Snape, at the moment, was too much of a headache. Instead, since he had a slightly clearer mind than he had had for a while, he decided to focus on remembering and trying to analyze some of the strange things that had happened to him that summer.

The visions where coming every other day and sometimes even daily; and when he had no visions, the nightmares about Cedric’s death and Voldemort’s return haunted him. The most he had been able to sleep were light dozes, or when he fell unconscious from pain and exhaustion. The visions had also become increasingly painful and tiring. The boy attributed that mainly to Voldemort gaining strength as the time passed, although there was probably something else causing it, but he had yet to find out what it could be.

During the visions, Harry felt the victim’s pain when under the ‘cruciatus’ curse, which appeared to be Voldemort's favorite curse. He found it strange that it was only that curse that he felt, but so far he had no clue as to why that happened, and was grateful that it was so, otherwise he might have died already from either pain or an ‘Avada Kedavra’. He also knew he was not feeling its full strength -having felt it once- and for that he had to thank every deity he could remember. However, what really wrecked havoc with him in the beginning, was that he had to watch the people being tortured and he had no way of stopping it.

The Dark Lord was intent on getting his original followers back in shape, and on recruiting new ones. He held constant meetings for planning and strategy, and there were always muggles for them to practice with. Though from what Harry managed to hear during those sessions, when the pain was still bearable, his people were being discrete.

Death Eaters were ordered to choose muggles that were homeless, drug addicts or alcoholics that no one would miss. A few had been muggle families that lived isolated; some had not even been British. The Dark Lord had allowed his followers to capture and torture some wizarding families that lived partially isolated or that had few communications with others.

At least a couple of those had been related to or were Aurors, and he heard the Death Eaters mention revenge in regards to them, but Voldemort had made it clear that none of them should have any Hogwarts age children. The Dark Lord did not want to give Dumbledore any chance of spoiling his plans, if his students or their families began disappearing suddenly, the old fool might see fit to take more drastic measures than just talking to that inept imbecile of Cornelius Fudge. Voldemort wanted to bid his time before he made his presence known to the whole world, not just the British. But when he did, he was planning on creating widespread panic.

Things had changed for Harry after the fourth or was it the fifth vision? He really could not remember clearly, but he had been praying to any deity that listened to find a way to stop them. Suddenly, after an odd surge of magic, he had the freedom to move about the room or whatever area Voldemort held his Death Eater meetings. At least a couple had been outside, even Dark Lords suffered from the extreme heat wave the rest of the mortals were going through.

Harry went undetected, as no one seemed to see him even if the boy stood right before them. To test this, at first he had jumped and stood in front of several Death Eaters. For a few moments, he even indulged in making silly faces or obscene signs at them, and even dare to poke at Crabbe and Goyle Seniors. Once he was sure no Death Eater could see or detect his presence, he took a bigger risk and tried the same with Voldemort and he got almost no response.

During that first time he had freedom to move, he noticed that Voldemort became a little uneasy when he got closer and looked around –red eyes narrowed- to find the source of his uneasiness. That night Harry decided to keep his distance from ‘Voldie’ just in case. He worried that the maniac was able to sense someone or something there; although he barely gave any outward indications of it, except for the narrowed eyes. As the night progressed, and the ‘entertainment’ took place, the boy could sense him growing more comfortable and even relaxed.

During the next vision Harry, still unsure of how he was managing to do what he was doing, wished with all his heart to remain unnoticed by the Dark Lord. The least he wanted was for Him to find out Harry was spying on him -or worse- to find out just what kind of life the-boy-who-lived led at the Dursleys hands. At the start of the vision, he noticed Voldemort looking slightly uneasy, the same way he did in the previous visit. The fiend then wearily concentrated his attention on each of his followers present, muttering some odd sounding spell.

On most, he barely remained focused for scant seconds, and his silence made more than a few of his lesser followers nervously squirm, but they all had learned the hard way that it was better to wait quietly. His focus became intense when he reached the members of his inner circle –with the exception of Crabbe and Goyle Seniors- and even more so when he reached Professor Snape. The maniac seemed to be searching for something; he did not find anything unusual with anyone, though he had thought to himself quite amused that, even after twenty or so years, Snape still had that thick skull, as well as his lack of tolerance for incompetence and being saddled with imbeciles. After Harry made his wish, the Dark Lord seemed to ‘relax’ and loose that edge, and he did not use that muttered spell on most of his followers again, except for Lucius Malfoy and Snape when they were discussing information or plans.

That was when he realized it was a one-way link, and Harry had been immensely relieved by it. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters had chosen that day to have fun torturing a poor muggle girl that could not have been older than five years. Snape had been there again, though he refused -in no uncertain terms- to participate in the ‘fun’ and kept himself well away from the child’s tormentors. A clearly disgusted expression on his face, and those in charge of the ‘fun’ had been subjected to his sharp and derisive tongue –as well as some well placed hexes- if they so much as dared to address him.

Snape’s attitude did not surprise the boy as much as he thought it would, the man was, after all, on the side of the light and he surely would avoid getting involved; though he had participated at some point when the victims were adults. But what did surprise him, was that Voldemort actually seemed to indulge Snape, and found his comments, retorts, and actions amusing.

At one point, he had made it clear that only the Potions Master was allowed the ‘eccentricity’ of not participating when children of any age were involved. But he made it quite clear –by casting a ‘cruciatus’ on the new recruit that dared to point it out- that it would not be tolerated of anyone else. Seeing the little girl tortured had sickened Harry, he had retched, and threw up the water he drank before he fell asleep in it. Only after he woke up did he find out he had actually done it outside the vision.

Harry could not stand watching without doing anything. So acting quite irrationally, he stood in the path of one of the curses. To his surprise, and shock, he found himself on the receiving end of a very painful ‘cruciatus’. In the midst of his pain, he noticed the girl was not feeling the curse anymore. Harry covered the child with his ‘body’ to shield her, but the curses only got stronger. They were being cast simultaneously by several Death Eaters at one point.

The young boy had screamed his throat hoarse from the immense pain, and he felt on the verge of loosing consciousness. He sincerely wished he could take the girl to some place safe, because he did not know if he would still be able to block the curses once he passed out. The next thing he knew, they were no longer in the room with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Instead, they appeared outside Hogwarts with a resounding pop that caused Fang to start barking like a maniac. Harry did not remain there though, and was propelled barely conscious to where the Dark Lord was. To say ‘Voldie’ was furious would have been an understatement; He ‘crucioed’ all of his followers present including Professor Snape.

Moving Voldemort’s victims to safety became his new task. It was extremely tiring, and he made some terrible decisions that only added to the guilt he felt over the death of Cedric Diggory. He could rescue one, maybe two people a night, but no more. Harry had to tear up families, separating the children from they parents. He could only save one child and had to leave the rest of the family to suffer at Voldemort's hands. It broke his heart to see them hope that they would be rescued and then see that hope crushed when he could not; though he somehow managed to let them and those he rescued know the despair and helplessness he felt at not being able to save them all.

The maniac was always extremely vicious after one of his victims disappeared. But sometimes, the death of those that remained was more merciful and swift. The Dark Lord was in no mood to enjoy torture, and started to kill them himself with ‘Avada Kedavra’. Still, Harry had been able to see the relief of the parents –after he let them know how he felt- when at least one of their children survived. He clung to this image to be able to keep going, it had to be enough or he would go crazy with guilt.

That was how he had rescued Professor Snape almost three weeks later. Crabbe’s, Goyle’s and Malfoy’s fathers had gotten to the Professor before informing Voldemort, acting under the eldest Malfoy’s initiative. Harry had noticed that power struggles were common between the Death Eaters. And Lucius was the most vicious of them all. He wanted Snape out of his way to become ‘Voldemort’s’ second in command. The Hogwarts Professor seemed aware of this and played his role carefully. So far Snape seemed to be winning, though he had not yet reached the position he had at the end of the first war. He guessed Draco’s father was tired of waiting and decided to get rid of the Potions Master before he managed to earn the maniac’s trust. The boy had not been aware of the blonde’s intentions or he might have tried to get the Potions Master out of there before he got hurt. Harry needed the maniac to be present to know what was happening in the room. So what ‘Voldie’ did not know, he did not either.

The three of them had delivered extensive physical punishment by the time they presented Snape before the Dark Lord as a traitor. Oddly enough, Malfoy senior had not been able to produce any concrete proof of the professor’s supposed ‘treason’, only conjectures. But Voldemort was getting too mistrustful with the disappearances, and he did not question the elder Malfoy’s motives, although Harry was sure ‘Voldie’ was aware of them. When the blond wizard suggested that Snape had something to do with the disappearances; the prisoners ended at Hogwarts after all, and the man worked there. The Dark Lord decided he could do without a Potions Master of Snape’s abilities and a spy that close to Dumbledore. He allowed Malfoy his small victory.

As they dragged the Potions Master into the room were Voldemort was sitting in his throne-like chair, Harry noticed that neither Death Eater was unharmed. Actually, they had been quite beat up too. So he guessed the professor did not go without one hell of a fight; one that he would have liked to see. His respect and admiration for the man raised up quite a few notches. That did not mean he ‘liked’ him, because he did not. Although he did not ‘hate’ Snape either, he never really had.

Harry observed the men carefully, none wore their masks and their robes were torn in places, taking in every detail and imprinting them in his memory. It really was a memorable sight. Since the start of his visions, he had wanted to ‘do’ something to them for all their vicious cruelty –the trio was the worst of the Death Eaters- and he found it rather ironic that it had been Professor Snape who did.

He had silently cheered at his professor; so far no one had been able to cause any damage to the elder Crabbe and Goyle. Until they met with Snape, though the man did not look to be the type of person who would have been able to hold his own on a fist fight, especially against those trolls. Malfoy’s bodyguards sported black eyes, what appeared to be broken noses, Goyle was barely able to stay on his feet, Crabbe was limping and cradling his right arm. Malfoy too was limping and cradling his wrist, though he only had a dark red mark on his cheek that was probably going to bruise.

Voldemort was not pleased that one of his closest followers had betrayed him, and even less when he found out Malfoy had not been able to break him and extract information about Dumbledore, Hogwarts or Harry Potter. The boy was impressed by the man’s fortitude, determination, and well… ability to withstand the pain. In his experience, many, if not all, would have broken with half of what Snape got. Still, the man would not reveal anything, including the address where Harry Potter lived, and the boy got the distinct impression the Potions Master did know he lived in 4 Privet Drive, Little Whining Surrey.

The day they uncovered Snape, Harry had been particularly weak. He had not eaten for almost a week and Dudley fell on him down the stairs that morning while trying to catch him, during one of his Harry hunting games. He had ended in the barely alive ‘human pancake’ category. He was really hurt and had no strength to attempt a rescue; but he just could not leave Snape there. The man was protecting him even if it meant a more painful death.

It was common knowledge among his Death Eaters that ‘Voldie’ would not spare anyone’s life, especially not that of a traitor. But he was known to sometimes kill them quicker -when he was in a ‘good’ mood- if those he tortured provided the information or even the ‘sport’ he wanted. So far the professor had, provided the 'sport' that is. The man had resisted screaming for a long time, much longer than any Harry had seen so far, including the other Death Eaters. And he had not pleaded once, not even to God or any other deity. The boy was almost certain that if Snape broke and spilled all he knew; Voldemort would have killed him quicker, one ‘Avada Kedavra’ and no more pain. But the Potions Master did not break, he seemed determined to take whatever information he had to the grave with him.

It took Harry a lot of time to gather enough strength to move to where Snape laid on the ground writhing from the effects of continuous ‘cruciatus’ and other curses. The man was beyond coherent by this time; though with luck he had not lost his mind yet. Harry shielded him, giving the older wizard a respite before painfully realizing he could not take him to the usual place.

Snape told Voldemort where the drop zone was only three meetings ago. Harry had been suspicious for some time, and only after much thinking 'the-boy-who-lived' came to the conclusion that Dumbledore had to have authorized that information, at least he hoped it was so. Snape was making very slow progress in gaining his former rank in Voldemort’s inner circle; this information should have moved him towards that goal. But it had not worked as expected with Lucius Malfoy sowing the seeds of suspicion.

Anyway, he could not leave the older wizard there; a Death Eater would just go to retrieve him. The Professor also needed medical attention, even more than previous victims did; he had never waited that long into the torture session to rescue someone. In his pain fogged mind, Harry surmised that the best place would be to take him directly to the infirmary at Hogwarts, since he had never been in St. Mungos. He pictured the room clearly in his mind, and wished both of them there.

They arrived with an extremely loud ‘pop’ that immediately brought Madame Pomfrey out of her room wearing only a thin robe over her nightgown, clear sign that she had already retired for the night. The trip left Harry almost completely drained, it had been hard to get inside Hogwarts protections.Before he returned, he got the feeling that professor Snape was not going to survive, and it both saddened and made him feel guilty. If he had only been stronger he could have gotten the man out before it was too late. It was rather strange feeling for the young boy; he had not been able to sense anyone else before. Snape knew there was no escape and that he was going to die, so he had made his peace and welcomed it. This rather surprised Harry, none of the others had accepted their imminent death. But he was in no condition to ponder long about it so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

The guilt started to take over, someone else was going to die because of him. Was it not enough that his parents and Cedric had died already? How many more were going to die because of him? True, Professor Snape was a spy, and probably knew the risk he was taking, the fact that he accepted his death proved that. Still, the Dark Lord had pressed more insistently for information on his whereabouts than on anything else from Dumbledore or Hogwarts.

If only he had not been weak, he would have been able to get the man to safety sooner; he could have kept him from the extreme suffering Voldemort and his Death Eaters inflicted on him. He owed him, and he had to admit that he respected him for going through so much to protect Gryffindor's-golden-boy, whom he had made no secret he disliked above any other student. Before he returned -as if pulled by an invisible elastic band- Harry sincerely wished the man would survive, and that he could give the Professor enough strength to heal and recover fast from his injuries. He wanted him to live; he would not be able to bear knowing the man had died. He… he needed to thank him, to tell him that he was the most courageous man he had ever met, and that he was sad no one really knew that aspect of him. Harry was sure he would get some snarky remark about it, but he really did not mind. Also, despite their previous animosity; he had never desired the man’s death.

Upon his return to the building were the meeting was being held he saw a raging Voldemort cursing just about everyone and everything before him. By the time his anger and frustration were down to manageable levels, there was no Death Eater left standing and most were unconscious. Harry had surprisingly remained conscious for the whole treatment, and he fervently hoped he might have a few days respite from the visions; it was clear the madman’s followers were not going to get up anytime soon.

Rescuing Snape left its toll on Harry, he was too weak to move or do anything at all for more than three days, and was oddly thankful that his aunt had left him locked in the cupboard. After all, according to them, he had screamed his head off all night. Who would not after so many ‘cruciatus’? His body was also suffering from the event, his throat was raw from screaming and he felt like he was not healing normally, in fact, the boy could say his body was not healing at all. Harry had involuntary tremors for some time. At first they were so strong that he could not have moved if he wanted to without falling down, thankfully, they had started to ease to more manageable levels slowly.

That week he got no food, only two glasses of water a day and, to his utter humiliation, no bathroom outings, not that he believed he would have been able to make it to the bathroom in his condition anyway. Still, he got a minor beating for making a mess of himself, and for vilifying the place with his foul stench. Harry had been afraid that if he did not find a way for the smell of his cupboard to remain unnoticed, this time his uncle might get involved and finally relieve him of his miserable existence. It was not a bad prospect to contemplate with the way he was feeling at the moment. But that would mean more pain, at least until he passed out, and he definitely had enough of that already. So he had wished again, concentrating on keeping the smell inside; and it must have worked because he had no more complaints about the stench. He had only been out of the cupboard for about an hour before Snape made his appearance.

They arrived to a very nice part of London, and Snape drove the SUV to the underground parking lot of an eight-storied building. He parked the car in a reserved space beside the elevator cube, checked he had all the boy’s things and the documents with him, and then proceeded to get Harry out of the car. Potter had squeaked in surprise at the movement and gasped a bit in pain. It seemed he had been so deep in thought he did not notice the car had stopped. Severus replaced the numbing charm again while on the road, but he guessed that it was starting to wear off if the previous two times, and the gasp, were any indication. The professor then made his way to the elevator and managed to press the PH button without bumping the boy against the walls.

“Sir?” Harry asked hesitantly. He was curious about where they were, and why were they using a muggle elevator instead of floo, apparating or a portkey. He also cursed his near blindness without glasses; he just could not make out any relevant features of the place they had arrived to.

“Later Mr. Potter,” was all the Potions Master said. The elevator was not the place to talk. One of his neighbors, or a visitor could board it, so it was better to wait until they were inside the wards and silencing charms of his flat. They reached their floor and went out straight into a flat.

“Nan, I’m back,” Severus called raising his voice a little without stopping his stride as he went to the guest bedroom, though he managed to drop his SUV’s keys in their place lest he lost them again.

Whatever Harry was expecting the place to look, even as blurry as he could see, it definitely was not it. The areas of the flat they passed were all in warm tones, the walls appeared to be a soft raw color, and there was a lot of light, unlike Hogwarts’ dungeons. Snape took him to a room that appeared to be mostly decorated in blues. There was also a lot of light there, and he could tell there was either a large window, or a floor to ceiling one from where the light came into the room.

He could not really make out much of the furniture, except that they were mixtures of darker and lighter blurs, and that the short and big one with blobs of color was probably the bed. The professor settled him on it, and Harry realized the dashes of colors he saw were cushions and pillows, fluffy and comfortable ones. Snape used them to prop him to a sitting position on the bed, and to raise his right leg from the bed’s surface.

“Oh my Severus! You didn’t say it was this… bad,” Nan exclaimed seeing the battered boy, he really was a sorry sight. She was carrying the potions and salve that he had asked for on the phone. “What happened to him?” She asked as she placed her cargo on the bedside table.

“His relatives,” was his dry answer, but his face reflected anger and disgust at the sole mention of those people. Not for the first time since he picked the boy up, he regretted not having done more to them. He had been fighting the urge to go back and do… something all the way home.

“I fell down the stairs,” Harry supplied not liking the implications Snape was making, though they were as true as the fact that he had indeed fallen down the stairs. He did not know who the woman was, or if she was trustworthy. And there was already one person too many that knew of his family problems, he did not want anyone else to know.

“And that… that ‘thing’ that fell on you isn’t your relative Potter?” He asked disgusted, though he made an effort to sound neutral.

“Umm… yes, he is,” Harry admitted a bit reluctantly.

“And wasn’t your aunt the one who decided you didn’t need medical attention, despite your obvious injuries?” Severus still kept his voice sounding neutral; he did not want to give the impression to Potter that he was behaving the same way he did at Hogwarts.

“Yes she did,” Harry admitted with a sigh. Whatever Snape was, it was not a fool. The man would be able to tell what kind of life he had with the Dursleys, by just looking at his current condition, despite all his intentions of hiding it.

“So your relatives ARE responsible for your current condition Mr. Potter, are they not?”

Harry nodded slowly fixing his gaze on his hands. Severus could see he was not just uncomfortable, but also quite ashamed, like the boy believed it was his fault. It appeared Potter he believed he should have been able to stop them. He probably thought it was his fault that he was treated the way he was. It was not uncommon for children in similar conditions to believe it. The boy was also probably expecting him to make some demeaning comment about it, and to receive the same or worse treatment from him that he had at their hands. He had not given the boy reason to believe otherwise during the four years he had been his professor. Well, he better disabuse him of that notion from the start.

“Do not make excuses for them, they do not deserve it. That kind of behavior towards children, especially family, has no excuse.” The boy raised his head and looked in the general direction of his voice with a rather surprised expression. “Nothing you could have ever done merits to be subjected to what you have.”

Harry’s eyes were wide at saucers at hearing the man’s words; he would never have expected him to say something like that to him. He had believed Snape would find that he, Harry Potter, deserved any and all punishments -no matter how severe- for any misconduct he incurred in. It was so disconcerting, confusing and… oddly reassuring that he did not.

“Rest assured Mr. Potter, that neither Nan nor I would ever mistreat you. As long as you’re my apprentice, you won’t lack food, a decent place to sleep and medical attention. I also do not believe in punishing children physically.”

“You don’t?” It was all that Harry was able to blurt relieved at that last revelation.

‘Well what were you expecting? The man’s known to be mean, snarky, and a real bastard to students, but no one has ever complained that he beat them. If he had, the rumor would still be going around warning other students about him.’ The Hermione-like voice reasoned, and he had to agree with it. His words also explained his attitude at the meetings when they tortured children. If he did not do it then, when he ‘had to’ then it was clear he would not ‘do it’ anywhere else.

“No, I don’t. There are other methods to keep the little dunderheads in line, no need to beat them. Be assured that if you misbehave I can come with a suitable punishment that won’t involve pain… Umm… a school full of adolescents is always in short supply of bubotuber puss don’t you agree?” He let the implication hang, no one in their right mind liked collecting the stuff, and it always made for a good detention activity.

Harry shuddered a bit, he hated it, but it was no different from getting a detention and he could deal with that. It seemed that living with Snape was not going to be as bad as he originally thought, in fact, just the prospect of three meals a day was improvement enough over the way he lived most of his life. The rest he mentioned, if indeed he meant it, were just added bonuses.

The woman had been silent while he and Snape talked, though he could see her blur standing beside the bed, he guessed she was the same person his professor called on the mobile phone, and the one he called when coming in. Harry was really curious as to who she was, and what was her relation to Snape. Somehow, he could not picture the man as married, though he could not discard the possibility that she might be his wife, he had implied that she lived with him when he said neither he nor her would mistreat him.

The woman came closer and fuzzed a bit over him making sure he was resting comfortably on the bed. She accidentally touched him and he cringed, raising his arms instinctively in a protective manner at the unexpected contact. Harry caught himself and tried to make it look as if he was only stretching his arms. She was not going to hit him… at least he did not think so.Had not Snape told him only a few moments ago that he was against physical punishment? That neither of them would mistreat him? He really needed to work on his reactions to people. Cringing like that made him seem weak and scared; he could not allow anyone to know that he really was. These defensive reactions had not been that bad before this summer, though he had had them for a long time -just not as pronounced- and he had been able to keep everyone from noticing for four years.

The Potions Master had cursed the boy’s relatives for living, and Albus Dumbledore for leaving him there when he saw Potter’s reaction. He had tried to cover it, but it had been clear enough. Nan had noticed it too, and looked first surprised and shocked, then anger had lit her eyes. Severus hoped she never came in contact with the Dursleys, he did not fancy trying to save her from Azkaban for casting all three unforgivables on them.

“Hi sweetie,” Nan started talking once she had put her anger under control.

Nan’s tone was warm and friendly. It helped to reassure him that he was in no immediate danger and he relaxed his slightly protective stance a bit; though he could react with very little warning. It was then that he realized that he had been very tense indeed. Harry noticed that her voice did not sound young, but… it did not sound old either. He shook his head slightly, he was probably not thinking straight.

“I’m Matilda Moongoop,” her voice sounded amused, and Harry tried not to chuckle at the last name. “It’s alright, you can laugh, it’s a silly name.” Harry decided it would not be bad to be polite and introduce himself properly. Snape had not done it yet.

“I’m Harold James Potter, pleased to meet you…” He gave her a tentative smile and turned in her direction, “Miss Moongoop.”He added the last a bit uncertainly.

“You’re a charmer Harold,” She chuckled, and then glared at Severus for snorting.

“Please call me Harry, everyone does except the Professor, he calls me Potter.”

“All right Harry and you can call me Nan, that’s what Sev’s called me since he was able to speak, and it’s much better than my names,” Snape snorted again and Harry turned in his direction, although his silhouette got lost in the blue wall.

“You’re Professor Snape’s sister?” Harry ventured cautiously. He did not want to incur in Snape’s wrath for prying, but he was curious. To his surprise she laughed and the professor sputtered.

“See? I told you he was a charmer Sev,” she was still laughing

“Umm… whatever you say sister dear,” his tone was slightly condescending. He had found it amusing that Potter was fishing for information in a rather Slytherin way.

“Oh you! Show more respect to your elders,” she admonished the Severus, though her tone of voice was amused.

“Of course mother dear,” now he was amused at seeing the range of emotions and confusion on the boy’s face.

“You’re his mother?!!!” Harry squeaked, and he heard Snape snigger. It was too much for him; SNAPE sniggering? He raised a tentative hand to his forehead to check if he had a fever and all that had happened was a hallucination.

‘Nope, no fever,’ he thought as he heard his professor chuckling. So he just shook his head disconcerted.

“Severus, you’re confusing him!”

“It would not be the first time,” he had not really planned on making fun of the boy, but it had certainly provided a small relief to the tension he was feeling over the whole situation.

“I’m not his mother Harry; actually, I was his and his brother’s nurse.” At the boy’s still confused look she clarified. “I was his nanny, and as I said before I know him since he was born.” Now it was Harry’s turn to snigger.

‘So she’s his nanny…’ Harry snorted at the thought of a baby Snape, though he ended picturing him all grown up in baby clothes, with a rattle in one hand and a bottle on the other. He just had a hard time trying not to burst out laughing at the outrageous picture in his mind. He felt slightly more relaxed in their presence; the misunderstanding had served to lighten his mood. He wished he could see their faces, especially Snape’s, he had never seen an amused expression on his face and he was sure he had looked it. Nan noticed he was squinting, so she gave Severus an inquisitive look.

“His glasses were broken, irreparably, if what his aunt told him is to be believed,” was all his explanation.

“Yeah, I have to admit I’m blind as a bat without them,” Harry agreed, looking slightly flustered and quite frustrated because he could not see. He was also angry with his aunt; if she had kept them Snape would have been able to repair them, or Nan. He took a deep breath to rein in his temper, and found out deep breaths were not a good idea with broken ribs. The charm had worn off, and they hurt like hell. He tried to hide his grimace, but was not completely successful.

“Has the spell worn off?” Severus asked letting some concern show in his voice. He approached the bed and looked on the nightstand where Nan had left the potion vials.

“Yes Sir,” he replied with a small nod and trying to calm his breathing to less painful rhythm, at the time he held his chest with trembling hands.

“Well, then I can give you some painless potion. It’ll be much better than the charm and last longer too, open up,” he ordered and poured a dose of the potion in the boy’s mouth when he obeyed. In seconds the pain was gone and his breathing became easier. Harry looked both relieved and disgusted, that potion had been revolting. Painless potion tasted particularly nasty, but countering the taste diminished its potency and it took longer to take effect so, at least for his own consumption, Severus prepared the original formula.

“Better?” Sev asked when he saw Potter’s expression. The boy nodded. He decided to cast the more advanced diagnostic spell, he noticed the involuntary tremors were still there, and he did not like it. “I’m going to give you another check up, with a more advanced spell, just to make sure everything is still healing all right.” He informed the boy and proceeded with the incantation. He normally would not have used magic in the flat, but it really could not be helped this time.

There was not a lot of change from what he had found at the relatives’ house. He got a better report on the infection, it only confirmed that he needed Eldon to check on the boy, it was more extensive than he expected. Severus told Nan that he intended calling his cousin in law later, when she suggested they should take the boy to St. Mungos. Potter had paled at the mention of the wizarding hospital, it was clear he did not like the idea anymore than his professor did. He explained to his old nurse that 'the-boy-who-lived' would attract too much attention and questions about how he sustained those injuries. He was sure the boy would not want that information to be leaked to the press. She reluctantly accepted that indeed calling Eldon was the only option they really had if they wanted to keep the knowledge of Harry’s family life from the press.

As he went reading the spells report, he found out that some of the nerve endings were practically ‘fried’. The ‘cruciatus’ curse was the only thing that could do that to nerves and only after either prolonged exposure or several continuous casts. This result frankly left him perplexed; there really was no explanation for that. He decided to treat it with his cruciatus-after-effects potion just to be on the safe side, though getting Potter’s nerves back to normal would take a long time. He was physically very weak, but it could be solved with proper nutrition, rest, and later some carefully selected exercises. It was also to be expected after what he had been through. The last thing he found was that his magical reserves were very low, but he attributed it to his physical condition and having sustained the stench containing spell for a few days as well as the involuntary ‘notice-me-not’ charms.

Once the injuries were ascertained, Snape left the room without saying anything. He came back a few moments later carrying another potion vial and a mug. He mixed the proper dosages of all the potions in the mug and gave it to Potter. One of them caught Harry’s attention, he was not sure what it was but it masked the flavors of all the other potions. So he could imagine he was drinking a cool mug of chocolate, he loved it and he would have drunk a pint of it, if he could have. While he finished taking the potions, Snape told him he could have his wand, and the man fished it from the boy’s trunk once Harry told him were it was.

The Professor decided this was the time to explain there were several protective and concealing wards around the flat to avoid calling the attention of the Ministry. The place was in fact, what was commonly known as un-plottable, so they were actually quite safe there. They could do magic with no problem there, even if the restriction for underage use of magic was not lifted, Harry would have been able to cast any spell or charm without any Ministry official the wiser. Still, both Severus and Nan preferred doing most things for themselves, the muggle way. Snape still put the boy’s wand on the nightstand just in case he needed it. But he warned him that he should avoid using magic as much as possible, at least until the medi-wizard had checked him over. His magical levels were very low.

The last part of the treatment involved a salve that had to be softly rubbed on the bruises to help them heal. Harry had dared to protest against it. It was enough that Snape had to help him take a bath, and found out how skinny and bruised he was. Having more people touching him, and seeing his condition just made him cringe. In the end Nan talked him into it; the woman was too good at pushing aside any excuses, pretexts, or objections he had. So he ended giving up and allowing them to apply the salve with a resigned sigh. Harry was surprised when Snape helped her apply the salve. He had many bruises, but their hands were careful and very gentle. It was odd how the gesture of being treated kindly made him feel cared for; it was something he rarely felt in his life. And somehow he never felt like that when he was under the care of Madame Pomfrey.

Harry just did not know what to think of Snape anymore. The Potions Master did not fit with any of his pre-conceived ideas of him, it was just too confusing. But he was feeling good at the moment, and safe. So he let himself relax, he would sort his confusion later and decided to enjoy the rare feelings, allowing the gentle hands to lull him to sleep.

Nan tucked the boy tenderly under the sheets, making sure to keep the leg propped up. It was the best they could do until Eldon had taken a look at it. Harry’s condition told her his story quite clearly. Those muggles were despicable, how could they do that to a child? It was not just because he was Harry Potter 'the-boy-who-lived'. He could have been just the kid next door, and still not deserve such treatment from his relatives. Harry was still young and needed to be treated with kindness by his own family at the very least.

Harry was now on their hands, well mostly in Severus’s. At that moment, the old witch decided she was going to be involved even in the odd case that her ex-charge did not want her to be. Although she was quite sure that would not be so. Surveying the room while she thought for a bit, her eyes settled on the boy’s trunk. They would have to stay at least a week, until Harry was better. So she saw no point in leaving his things all packed, besides she wanted to make sure that not all of his clothes were rags. Matilda started unpacking; as she took the boy’s clothes out, she unfortunately found out that all his muggle clothing was in the same or worse condition than the ones he was wearing. The things were barely fit for cleaning rags, much less for being worn. They were also HUGE and Harry was really too small and too thin for a fourteen/fifteen year old.

Nan set the rags aside ignoring Severus. He had not left the room and watched her antics with a slight hint of curiosity in his eyes; although, as was his wont, he refrained from asking. He knew her too well to know she was going to sate his curiosity later without him having to ask. The old witch huffed indignantly at what she saw; nothing was worth salvaging, so she was going to throw the huge clothes in the trash. There were four handmade jumpers in good condition though; she guessed they were probably gifts. Those she put in a dresser drawer. There were also his Hogwarts robes and uniforms in relatively good condition. They would have to do until they bought him some decent clothing; a complete, good quality wardrobe that fit if she had any say in it.

All his school books of four years were neatly stacked inside the trunk, and it seemed they had been there a long time, not just packed that day. In fact, it looked like he had not unpacked since he left school. The books were not necessary now that Severus was going to be instructing him, so he did not need to carry them back to school. A few other books were also inside it. She took out all of them and arranged them neatly on the empty bookshelves near the window. She found a photo album, an invisibility cloak, a firebolt broom, quidditch equipment, as well as piles of notes, vials and other assorted school related odds and ends.

Nan placed the photo album on the bookshelf, she was curious about it but respecting the child’s privacy decided not to pry -anymore than she was already doing- until she had asked for permission. The invisibility cloak she decided to leave in the trunk. Knowing Severus, he might confiscate it. The broom went into the closet, and the quidditch equipment into one of the drawers. The vials went also to the bookshelves while she got the boy a cupboard to store that kind of stuff, and the school related material was neatly stored in the desk’s drawers. Once Harry was awake she would ask if he wanted the notes bound in leather by year and assignment, it would make them easier to store and search through for reviews. They had an excellent binder working for their Potions Company that she could recommend to him.

Once she unpacked all of his things, including the basic toiletries -which consisted on Hogwarts’ issued supplies- and that she had Severus put in the bathroom across the hall. She had the Potions Master take the trunk to the storage closet until it was needed. Severus grumbled a bit at being ordered about, but a pointed look was all it took to make him comply, even as a full grown adult wizard he avoided getting her angry like the plague.

Matilda took a good look at the room. It was probably going to need some redecoration to make it the room of a teenage boy, as well as things like posters or pictures to make it more personal. There had not been anything in the trunk that would have given her an idea of what he liked, except the quidditch stuff, but no reference of a favorite team. There were also no toys or mementos like most people had, only the album, the Firebolt broom, and the invisibility cloak. It was not right that what she unpacked was all the boy owned, she would correct that as soon as Severus got him his glasses. They would go through the photos in his album, and see which ones he wanted copied and on frames.

With a sigh she looked around, that had been as much as she could do to start giving him a feeling of home. The rest would have to wait until he was awake to see what else the boy wanted done. As Sev’s apprentice Harry was there to stay, even if he would be spending a lot of time in Hogwarts, the flat was still Severus main home and sanctuary, so he came back whenever he needed peace and quiet. The old witch wanted to provide that for the boy, a safe haven and a home. She could almost swear Harry never had such a place for himself.

Nan left the room and signaled Severus to follow her. He had silently observed her antics, but had not said or done more than occasionally raise a puzzled eyebrow, which she had ignored. She needed to work her anger off at the boy’s relatives before she spoke, else she might end casting a malediction –and she was quite good at it- on those people. The only problem would be that she was not sure who they were, and until she did, it could end wrong. He went after her to the kitchen, watched Nan angrily put all of Potter’s clothes into a plastic bag; and then she threw them in the trash while she muttered: ‘the gall of those people!’

Severus suspected she would have him supply the boy with a new wardrobe as soon as possible. He could not help but wonder why no one had noticed the condition of the boy’s clothes. It was a clear indication that things were not ‘right’ with his relatives. He should have certainly noticed, and yet he had not. They were just too at odds with what a ‘pampered and spoiled brat’ would wear. Thinking as far back as Potter’s first year he realized he had NEVER seen the boy wearing anything else besides his school uniform, those Weasley issued jumpers and pajamas. The Potions Master had to give him credit for being able to avoid questions by not using his muggle clothing were it would make people question their condition. That was… actually very Slytherin of him.

As he thought about the boy’s clothes he realized that supplying him with a whole wardrobe was not a bad idea. Severus did not want it said that he forced his apprentice to dress in rags; it would give people the wrong idea. Despite the cold image he had cultivated for years, he was not about to let everyone believe he mistreated 'Gryffindor's-Golden-Boy'. Besides, status wise it was not good, regardless of his removal as head of Slytherin house; there were still appearances to keep.

He was a Master, and as such he was required to provide for his apprentice the best that he could afford to show how well he did at his trade. He mentally groaned at this. Severus absolutely hated these kinds of ‘social’ games, but he had been playing them for so long that there was no way he could completely ignore them. Despite feeling inclined to do so. A lot of people were not going to be very happy that he had taken Potter as his apprentice, and they would be watching to see how he was treating 'the-boy-who-lived'. Not that anyone could do anything about it, once a contract was signed, it only concerned the Master and the Apprentice. It was unbreakable unless both parties agreed to terminate it, or the apprentice passed all his examinations to become a Master.

Well, if he was going to be required to wear his Mastery colors -or ‘rank bands’ as some called them- while he trained an apprentice, he would then do it in style. He would play the game by his rules and perhaps rub a few noses while playing it. Potter would wear the best of the best, and not just clothes but all his supplies for training. He had the fleeting thought that perhaps that would put down the Malfoy brat a notch or two, or at least make him slightly green with envy. He could not keep the slightly evil smirk that appeared of its own volition on his face at the thought. That would definitely be amusing, it was perhaps a childish way to get even for tolerating all of the brat’s impertinences; but to Draco Malfoy money, power, and henceforth his social status were what mattered most.

Contrary to what all the student body believed, including said brat, he did not like him an iota. In fact, it was really a big challenge to his acting abilities to pretend that the brat was his favorite student when he despised all Malfoys. Muggles would have given him an award for his ongoing performance. In his own opinion, Draco Malfoy was even more spoiled and insufferable than what he had believed Potter to be. Not being required to keep the act anymore was a relief and would get rid of that misconception after the first lessons of the term, and he was looking forward to that and was going to enjoy it very much.

As he thought about the social games he would have to play, Severus realized he needed to check if the boy would wear the Potter family crests. If he was not wrong, the boy was already fifteen, and he was the only remaining member of the Potter family. The last two Dark Lords had done quite a good job at eradicating most of the family members. Tradition dictated that the eldest son, or daughter, of pureblooded lines wore the crest or crests after their fifteenth birthday to show they were the heirs of their family.

At Hogwarts many of these children wore them, he had seen even some of the muggleborns -those that had been born into the muggle British nobility, or that came from old traditional families- wear their crests once they found out about the tradition. It could be anything from a medallion, to a robe brooch passing through hair pins. As non-conventional as Arthur Weasley was, even he had upheld this tradition. Severus had seen the eldest Weasley child, Bill, wear the brooch on his robe since his fifth year.

Snape made a mental note to ask Albus if he had stored them, or if they were stored for safe keeping at a Gringotts vault, as he had seen nothing that remotely resembled jewelry in the boy’s trunk. He remembered James Potter had been wearing the Head of Potter House medallion and signet ring, and the heir brooch since his seventh year. It was a fair assumption that he had them with him when Voldemort killed him. He also was not sure if being the boy’s guardian influenced this tradition in any way. Because if it did, then Potter would have to wear the Snape heir family crests, and he would have to dig them out from his Gringotts vault. They and the Head of Snape House medallion, ring and brooch were among the few heirlooms he had been able to salvage after paying all his parents debts.

He could not help but smirk at the fact that if Potter wore both crests it would probably have Draco Malfoy in a snit. He was the Malfoy heir but he had no claim to being the Black’s heir. That mutt, Sirius Black, was the last male heir of the Black side of the family. Narcissa and Bellatrix, formerly Black and later Malfoy and LeStrange respectively, were the mutt’s cousins and not direct in the line.Oh yes, he was going to have some fun getting back at the Malfoy heir, and perhaps Potter would not be too Gryffindor to join in. It was a well known fact that he could not tolerate the blond Slytherin.

Severus rarely wore his crests. When he did, it was usually at social events related with Death Eaters, those he had not been able to avoid in any case, and a couple of muggle ones where he had needed to impress some people. During those occasions he had to wear the head of house medallion too. He was, after all, the last of the Snapes; though he felt no real pride on what the last two generations achieved, himself included.

After a few moments, Snape chastised himself for using diversion tactics to avoid dealing with the problems at hand. It was not something he usually did, but whenever it happened, it was a clear sign that he was trying to delay dealing with a problem. There had really been no sense in pondering about foolish traditions and keeping appearances. Those could be dealt with at a later time. But he really did not want to think about all the implications that what he learned about the boy would bring. He had to make too many changes and adjustments to his way of life and beliefs.

As he had let his mind wander, he had been leaning against the kitchen counter while Nan bustled about the kitchen, probably getting dinner ready. Severus detached himself enough from his thoughts to go straight to the fridge and pick a cold butterbeer, despite having charmed the flat for temperature control quite a few years back, it was still way too hot. They charms probably needed to be reapplied if this draught was affecting them. Regardless of his better judgment, they would have to start using wand-magic there. The wizard then sat at the table to drink it while he went back to pondering the day’s happenings, and wait for Nan to speak up. It was obvious by the way she was busying herself that she had quite a lot on her mind, and at the moment he would rather deal with her than with his own musings.

The Potions Master decided to work on things by parts. The day’s events were quite a lot to take in just one sitting, even for him who was used to discover things were not what they seemed. Severus was having trouble assimilating the fact that ‘spoiled, pampered Potter’ was neither spoiled, nor pampered. He realized that it might actually be easier to get along with the boy -like Albus had wanted all along- now that he knew the truth about his home life.

At the moment he needed to decide what to do about his findings of the boy’s home life. The ‘correct’ procedure in any ‘normal’ case would be for him, as Potter's legal guardian or even as his Professor, to present a formal complaint in the boy’s behalf at the Ministry’s Child Protection department. He had done this on behalf of some of his students a few times throughout the years, so he was quite familiar with the proceedings. If there was enough evidence against them they would go to trial. Aurors would then take the muggles or relatives into custody depending on the severity of the case. If they won, which was a certainty on most cases as pensieves and Veritasserum were allowed, the abusers got punished and new guardians were appointed for the children. In this case, since Potter already had legal guardian, there was no need to search for someone else.

Severus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his large nose. Although the proceedings sounded simple, he knew they were not. It was hard on the children to have to recount the experiences they lived through in front of others, and to have to face their family or abusers in court. And even when the children found new homes with caring families, the ordeal was not over yet. It was hard work to get them back on their feet, to help them recover their self-esteem, self-worth, and get them to trust adults. He had been lucky that almost all of the kids he had helped had benefited from the legal actions, and were placed with caring people. But he was not sure filing a complaint with the Ministry’s respective department was the ‘best’ option in this particular boy’s situation.

Harry Potter was famous, and that kind of news could really make things harder, and not just for the boy. Albus would have a difficult time explaining why he left the ‘wizarding world’s savior’ with those muggles and not once checked on him. At the moment, with Fudge wanting to discredit the old coot and Potter for affirming that Voldemort was back, news of this magnitude were sure to make things worse for both. The imbecile they had for a Minister would proclaim to have proof of his allegations -of the boy being mentally unstable and that Dumbledore was a delusional old man- that Hogwarts Headmaster was no longer fit to make important decisions. Potter had been able to fool everyone so far and he might continue to do so with some help. And well, almost everyone believed Dumbledore had never been quite sane, yet he had defeated Grindenwald* and led the Order of the Phoenix successfully against the Dark Lord during his first rise.

The Potions Master realized the Order of the Phoenix definitely could not deal with the bad publicity at the moment, when surreptitious support of their activities was so necessary. It could cost them the war if the Headmaster lost credibility, probably what the Dark Lord was aiming at by taking his time. The Order needed to recruit new members just as Voldemort needed new Death Eaters; if people lost fait on Dumbledore they would have no one to aid them on their fight for the light. He was sure there were not many of the original members left, and they would not be enough. And the Dark Lord’s ranks were actually swelling with new Death Eaters from all over Europe.

Then there was, of course, Potter himself. Severus was sure the kid did not want anyone to know what his situation at home had been most of his life. It was clear that he had made a big effort –and had been incredibly successful for a Gryffindor, in fact, he had probably been even better at it than one of his Slytherin- at concealing it for the whole four years that he attended Hogwarts. He could almost swear that the rest of the trio either did not know, or knew only little bits that were too insignificant to bring to the attention of an adult.

Miss Granger was the sensible one of the trio, and she was muggle born and raised -the topic of abuse was no longer a taboo there as it still was in the magical world- she would have informed someone if she suspected it was bad enough to harm her friend. Having his family problems out in the open would probably be a big blow to whatever self-esteem the boy still had. And that was without counting whatever emotional damage he already had, and managed to hide from everyone. Severus sighed; he had the beginning of a nasty headache. Things were getting complicated, more than they already were anyway, and he could only think that this required an urgent conversation with Albus; because he really did not know how to proceed.

The headmaster was not going to be happy to hear this news. But Severus had to admit the man was in great part at fault for not checking on 'the-boy-who-lived' all those years. Damn! The kid had lived most of his life in a cupboard and no one knew! It made him angry, and it was not because he had suddenly developed a ‘liking’ for ‘Gryffindor's-Golden-Boy’, because well… he had not. It was more of an understanding of where the boy came from, and because he could not condone that kind of treatment to children. It was where he drew the line, and even Voldemort learned it. He could force him to watch, but he could not force him to participate. Not after what the madman had them do to Luca. Severus Snape, not yet a Potions Master but nearly as good, had been too valuable an asset then, so the Dark Lord allowed him that ‘eccentricity’.

Although many believed the way he treated his students was abusive, it was his way to teach them that the world outside the school was not filled with ‘fair’ or ‘good’ people. He wanted them to be prepared to deal with real life once they graduated; those that did not adapt were usually either fair prey for Voldemort’s recruiters -or any Dark Lord’s as history had proved throughout time- or became their victims.

With a deep sigh, Severus accepted to himself that Albus had been right regarding Potter. The boy could not be like his father. Their circumstances in life were too different, even extreme to a point, for them to be similar. This discovery left him with the disquieting question of who the boy currently sleeping in his guest room really was. It was obvious that he could not be 'Gryffindor's-Golden-Boy' as he thought he was. Nor was he really the ‘Harry Potter’ he was sure everyone else believed him to be. After some thinking, and despite all his vaunted powers of observation, he only came up with one conclusion; he did not know, and probably no one really did. Not even the rest of the Golden Trio. Severus did not like it at all, and he had no one to blame for it but himself.

His ignorance meant that he needed to get to know the boy, and he was not sure Potter would be willing to drop his masks for the man that made his life hell for four years at Hogwarts. Well this reinforced his conviction that he had to change the way he treated the boy and do his best to earn his trust. Not an easy task for someone like him, to overcome a few years of conditioning himself into believing the child would be an exact replica of his father. And to make things more difficult, the changes could not be an act. Pretending to care would, in the end, only alienate the child even more.

Another thing was the fact that they were going to live together and quite closely from then on. He could not keep his masks on all the time, night and day, weekends and holidays, for as long as it took to finish the boy’s training. That would take at least three years if Potter was indeed as intelligent as Dumbledore believed, but the norm for an apprenticeship for a graduated student was, on most situations, a minimum of five years. For one not yet out of school it was probably going to be those five years plus those he had not completed until he took his NEWTs. Besides, he had already shown the boy more about himself since he picked him up, than the majority of people that knew him ever got to see.

Then, there was Nan herself. He could tell that much by her actions, that she had already decided she wanted to keep the boy and mother him. That witch had wanted someone she could take care of, spoil and pamper for years. She had been after him to marry again, get a girlfriend, adopt a child, or at the very least get himself a pet. Like any of that would have ever happened, if he had a say in it, Severus could not help but snort at the thought.

Severus had no intention of getting married again, and with his now precarious situation, getting himself a girlfriend or adopting would just be plain irresponsible of him. Having taken Potter as his apprentice already was too much, but he had been powerless against Albus meddling. He would be endangering innocents by making them perfect targets for the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. They wanted to make him suffer, what better way than to use those he cared for? In a way he was lucky he had kept his private life a complete secret. Only the original ‘old crowd’ knew about Nan, and only Albus and Minerva –besides Matilda of course- knew about the family on his mother’s side; with which he still kept in contact with. Severus knew his old nurse firmly believed it would do him good to start over again. But he had barely survived loosing Sarah and Pat, had even tried to kill himself once just after it happened. It had been Albus who found him and got him in time to Poppy. He recovered, but promised himself he would not risk feeling that kind of pain EVER again.

He could let her mother Potter, that would satisfy her need to take care of people, and it probably would not do any harm. It might actually do him a lot of good. The boy needed some honest affection and loving care. That was something he had learned from his experiences with children in Potter’s situation. Severus was not sure he was able to provide it, or perhaps he should ask himself if he wanted to.

The answer to that question was clear, and it was no. It would be risking too much. He had already decided he would not let anyone else in anymore, save for those that he already cared for and that had not let him push them away. Nan, Albus, Minerva, and he had to admit, about a handful of his cousins on his mother’s side. He cared about the rest of his family, and had attended a large number of reunions, but he still tried to keep his distance emotionally to avoid getting hurt or putting them in danger. There was, of course, the slight possibility that once he got to know the Potter boy better, he would be able to worm his way past his walls and make him care. But he was not making any bets on it.

‘Damn it Albus! Taking in a boy under my roof is not something to spring on people with only a few hours of warning!’ He mentally snarled, and then thought with a tired sigh. ‘Was it really just this morning when the old man informed me of ‘my new apprentice’?’

The day seemed to be stretching and becoming unbelievably long. And he had yet to talk to Albus and report what happened at Potter’s. He was certain it was going to get even longer. Regardless of what he told Poppy, Severus was not yet fully recovered from his encounter with Voldemort.

‘Albus is not expecting me to contact him for a few days. So I don’t think there will be too much of a problem if I delay a bit. At least until I’ve had more to rest, and think things through calmly,’ Severus reasoned. ‘The boy is already here, safe, and most of his injuries have been treated. Besides, if I were Potter, I would be furious with the Headmaster for sending me there yet again. I would not want to see Dumbledore, and if I did I’d probably want to hex him until next year.’ He smirked at the thought, it would be worth seeing. ‘I would not hold it against Potter if he tries. I’ll even give Gryffindor points if he actually succeeds hitting that old coot! Merlin, even I who didn’t like him feel like I might hex Albus for being so irresponsible; and knowing Nan, she would probably not contain herself. Well that takes care of it, we’ll contact Albus tomorrow.’ Once he decided this he felt only slightly better.

Snape was tired and his muscles ached. He really felt too tense and stressed out; a light nap might help, although he was not sure he could sleep, and he did not want to rely on a sleeping potion; he had been taking too many healing draughts already. Snape had no intention of developing an addiction; being a Potions Master, he was more than aware of the risk of abusing certain potions. Besides, Nan would probably find out and demand an explanation, which he did not want to think about just then.

“Why so thoughtful Sev?” Nan asked sitting at the table with a butterbeer. She had worked her anger at the kid’s family by busying herself with dinner and a cake. By the emotions crossing on Severus’s face he might need something to relieve him of the stress and probably cheer him up. Carrot cake usually helped. Her ex-charge never had a sweet tooth –not even as a child- but there were exceptions, that particular cake and pancakes were among them.

“There’s a lot to think about,” he said non-committally and stood up to get another butterbeer.

“About?” she heard him sigh, it was a good sign. She was not going to have to pull out whatever worried him with forceps.

“The school, Potter, the Dark Lord…” he began slowly avoiding her eyes.

She had not liked one bit that he was going to be spying again. Dumbledore had gotten an earful for asking him to go back, after Severus informed her. That was something she had asked to know from the first time he became a spy. Nan would rather be aware of the dangers he was incurring than be kept in the dark even if it made her worry more.

“The three are connected you know?” He paused before he dropped the dung-bomb so to speak. It was better if it was him the one to tell her before she found out from someone else, or from rumors in Diagon Alley. He shuddered at the thought, she was even better than Dumbledore at sending him into guilt trips. Besides, if it came from him, he could edit the information to suit his needs. “The spying went wrong; I could not get Him to trust me completely again, although I was getting there. I probably would have succeeded had Lucius not gotten too power hungry and that strange light had not started rescuing peo…”

“Those disappearances?” She interrupted him; he nodded and raised an inquiring eyebrow. “There have been rumors in Diagon Alley,” she explained, and then her tone changed to worry as she asked. “When and how did you get away Sev? Were you hurt? Why wasn’t I informed when this happened?”

“It happened last week, and as you can see I am fine.” He extended his arms wide as he reclined on the chair, in a gesture that clearly said ‘I’m-fine-as-you-can-see’. “But I won’t lie to you; He would have killed me for sure. In fact, I believed that was it; about how I escaped? I’m not exactly sure. I’m one of those ‘disappearances’, and we still can’t fathom what they are.”

“Are you sure you’re ok son?” She asked concerned. She occasionally called him son, he was like one to her anyway, and for the muggles she did pose as his mother. “Why wasn’t I informed? I know Albus has not spoken to the Order of this, is that why?”

“Nan, I’m fine, really. You weren’t informed because there was nothing to tell, and we had quite a few things to do. And about informing the Order, Albus decided it was best to wait a bit longer to tell them. I believe he is concocting something for the next meeting in that convoluted mind of his, though only Merlin knows for sure what it is. I do know there are going to be some changes that need to be taken care off. Starting with my position in the ranks, since I can’t bring information anymore, you know he needs to work on the most paranoid of the members so they…”

“Namely Alastor,” Nan interrupted him. She was well aware that the retired and extremely paranoid Auror had never accepted Sev as an Order member.

“In part, but there are also Black and Lupin; those two alone are sure going to make a racket about me. Especially when he finds out I’m Potter’s new guardian, he is the boy’s Godfather.”

“Oh dear! That doesn’t bode well.”

“That is putting it mildly,” he sneered. “The canine duo is not going to be very happy about any of it.”

“I can only wonder what Albus was thinking. Those two never really accepted you, even at school. Although I believe Lupin won’t be that much of a problem, he has matured, unlike Black. I’m pretty sure he believes you have turned from the Dark Lord. Now, where does… Harry and Hogwarts come up in that?”

“Well, Albus quite unilaterally –I might add- decided it was too risky for me to remain Head of Slytherin because some of the parents are either Death Eaters or sympathizers.” His voice was bitter, being Head of House was something he was really proud of accomplishing. Besides, he did care about his charges, despite appearances to the contrary. He worried they would be unfairly treated by the next Head of House.

“I’m sorry Sev; I know you liked being Head of House.”

“I can tell you I was not happy about it, and protested against the decision, but you know Albus.” He shrugged. “And that wasn’t all…”

Severus told her about having to leave his dungeons too. Then how the infuriating man had sprung the news that he had an apprentice and it was Harry Potter. Whom, he now realized, he had spent four years despising for the totally wrong reasons. Talk about major guilt trips, and this one was –as always- courtesy of Albus. The man was quite accomplished at sending his co-workers and Order members into such trips, not just him. Really, that man should have been in Slytherin, and be labeled the king of emotional blackmail. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, the beginning of the headache finally settling in.

“Actually, I really don’t know what to do with Potter, besides taking care of his injuries and buying him new clothes to make up for those you threw in the rubbish, that is.”

“Well, he is in your care, to raise, and to teach, so… teach.”

“You know that what I… What do you mean to raise him?” He asked frowning, not comprehending what that had to do with training the boy. He silently cursed his headache for not allowing him to think as clearly as he should at the moment.

“He’s not a pet that you simply feed, house, and train. Seriously Sev, he’s a child, and children need to be nurtured and cared for. Providing food, education, and clothing isn’t enough.”

“It’s not? I was thinking that it would be, added to the fact that we won’t beat him up. It seems to me that it is more than he’s got so far. Besides I was planning on letting YOU do the nurturing and caring part. Merlin knows you’ve nagged me about giving you ‘grandchildren’ for a long time, well… this is your chance at it.”

“Severus Snape you can be dense at times!” She exclaimed sounding a bit exasperated that he had not realized all the implications of having a minor as his apprentice. Although, it could be excused since he really had little time to think about all that it entailed. “Now tell me, what you found out about the way his family treated him.”

“Well, besides finding out how utterly they despised him, and that they beat him, and made him sleep in a cupboard for most of his life, I really found little.”

“They did what?”

“His room was a small cupboard under the stairs. It certainly was not the place to keep a human being, wizard or muggle. There were a small cot and a ratty blanket inside for him to sleep on, besides his trunk and the cage for his owl. The place was barely big enough to hold a small child, and Potter is small for his age, but still… it was really cramped with all those things in there. I took him out of it.” His expression hardened at the memory of what he saw when he first opened the door.

“Merlin! How could they? How could anyone be that cruel?” She was horrified.

“I really don’t know Nan. I also found out they had not fed him in a week. He told me that much, although the results of the diagnostic spells showed that even if they ‘fed’ him, it was not enough to nourish kneazle, much less a growing teenager.”

“Well…” She began once she had her anger under control. Severus’s words had served to make her want to kill those people. “According to your account, he did get food, just not often enough to nurture him. He had a bed, inside a small cupboard. He had clothing, those rags I threw, and he went to Hogwarts, so he did get an education. You can clearly see the condition he is in, and not just physically. I can only imagine how he’s emotionally by his reaction to my touch, and it’s not promising. Harry needs people to CARE for him.”

“He’s got plenty of those fawning people at Hogwarts,” he interrupted her not liking where the conversation was going. All right he had just been thinking about that, but he did not want to dwell too much on it yet.

“Really? Then how come no one noticed and got him out of there before? They don’t care for him or he would not have been left with those horrible people so long.”

“You don’t know Potter Nan…” He began, but stopped himself. He was just arguing for arguing’s sake. Had he not come to the conclusion that the boy was not who and what he had deluded himself to believe?

“And you do? Actually… does anyone?”

“No, you’re right I don’t know him at all, I thought I did though. I’m starting to believe he’s a superb actor, capable of rivaling my most skilled Slytherins. The boy’s been cunning enough to fool everyone for the four years he’s been at Hogwarts, and that is an unheard of quality in a Gryffindor,” he admitted with a sigh and a slight hint of admiration as he began to see the boy in a new light. “If those people ‘fawning’ over 'the-boy-who-lived' really cared for ‘Harry’, the boy would not have been mistreated at all.”

“That’s part of what I meant Sev, no one has ‘really’ paid attention to him.” She paused to make sure her last statement had sunk in before going on. “You know, caring for a child is not just giving the boy enough to eat, but making sure he eats properly. It’s being there when he’s ill or stressed, making sure he gets treated and reassured. It’s providing him with a good environment where he feels safe, and being by his side to give comfort, support, or advice if he needs it. Right now Harry is hurt, weak, in pain and quite stressed. I think he’s probably going to need to be reassured that we won’t harm him SEVERAL times before it actually sinks in that we mean it. You saw how he cringed when I first touched him, and you also saw how he began leaning into our touch once he realized that neither of us was going to hit him; he actually relaxed then.”

“If you’re talking about affection, then forget it Nan. I’m not able to give the boy or anyone else that anymore.”

“It’s not that you’re unable Sev. I believe your problem is that you won’t…”

“We’ve been through this before Nan; you just change the person each time. I.really.don’t.want.to.talk.about.it,” Severus gritted pressing the bridge of his nose; the headache was now a full blown migraine. This was a delicate topic, one he was not willing to talk about with anyone any time soon; though she always did her best to bring it up.

“Alright, can you at least try to be civil and kind? It’s not asking too much.”

“I can try,” he finally said with a defeated sigh. “Can’t make promises though, I… practically hated Potter for four years, and I believe he returns the feeling.”

“Umm… I’m not so sure about that. I can see why he might do so though; you’re far from nice to your students, and from what you’ve told me even less so to him. But… I just got the feeling that he… he trusts you Sev.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Nan! I made that boy’s life miserable for four years, and during all that time I know he was convinced I was the bad guy out to get him; the cause of everything bad that happened to him at Hogwarts.”

“And were you? Were you really behind ALL those bad things that happened to him? Despite not liking him, you have told me quite a lot of the boy’s adventures to know they were dangerous.”

“Was I the one behind all those extremely dangerous ‘adventures’ as you call them? No, I had nothing to do with those. But I did humiliate him as much as possible in class, or outside, and I tried to find any excuse to get Albus to expel him.”

“Knowing you as I know you, you probably did that and more. But… you also saved him a few times…”

“I don’t think he is aware of that, and I rather he remains that way,” he interrupted her.

“As you wish, but what I saw tells me he trust you, quite a lot actually. Didn’t you notice he doesn’t cringe away from your touch?”

“I… I didn’t notice,” he began thoughtfully and as he reviewed his interactions with Potter that day. Her observations were correct. The boy had not shied away from his touch, although he did from his tone of voice and a word. It was odd, why would Potter suddenly start to trust him when he had not for all the years he had been at Hogwarts? “But...” he began slowly. “You’re right, he cringed more to my words and tone of voice than my touch, and even then, I think it wasn’t because of me, but because of the implications the word ‘boy’ has for him.” At her puzzled expression he explained. “I’m pretty sure they usually called him that, as well as ‘freak’ instead of his own name.”

Matilda’s comment about the boy’s trust left Severus very thoughtful. He just could not think why Potter would trust him. He had not given the boy any reason to. In fact, most of his actions towards him would inspire just the opposite. Well, there was no profit in pondering that which only the boy could answer. That is, if he felt like he could confide in his git of a Potions professor; and Severus would not bet a flobberworm on it. The Potter boy was becoming an interesting enigma, so one more mystery to add to the whole puzzle would not change things at all.

After staying in thoughtful silence for a while, they decided to leave the conversation at that for the moment. There would be time to sort things out slowly during the next few days. As an afterthought, Severus informed Nan of his decision to leave reporting to Dumbledore until the following day. He did not have to give that much of an explanation as she agreed with him wholeheartedly. If she saw her old friend tonight, she might do something she regretted later; like trying to hex him when he was distracted.

There were some things Nan needed to do that Severus’ distressing phone call had kept her from finishing. She may have been the Snape family nanny when Sev was a child, but now she was a businesswoman in charge of both of his companies, a far cry from her initial job description at Snape Manor. Managing the businesses was also something Severus was not very good at, and it was not because he lacked the talent. He simply was happier behind a cauldron, in a chemistry lab surrounded by his ingredients and notes or, strange as it sounded, teaching.

Sev could be a shrewd negotiator, and quite ruthless at closing business transactions, but he lacked the people skills. He just was unable to do public relations often. He could be nice, soft spoken, even charming, – although she was sure 99.9% of those who had ever met him did not believe him capable of it - altogether the epitome of the perfect gentleman when he wanted to be, or when he was in the ‘mood’. The problem was, he seldom wanted to, and being surrounded by imbeciles and idiots ruined his ‘mood’ in seconds.

Matilda needed to send back the reports she had finished checking, as well as her comments on them. There were also some instructions for her secretary, or assistant as she preferred to call her, Mildred. Now that Severus was taking some time off, he was sure to want meetings with the department heads of both companies, as well as reports on the status of their respective areas.

She sighed as she picked up the documents and her notes from her small home office. It promised to be a busy week, and it probably would extend over to the next. The only ones she was sure were going to enjoy Severus impromptu visit were those in the New Product Development Departments on both companies. They all talked the same language, were usually on the same planet as her ex-charge, and right now both teams were stuck with their respective projects. If she knew Sev well, that would lead to gruelling twenty-four hour long brainstorming sessions, most of which he would be part off. Having Harry at home might change that schedule a bit, but she would not count on it.

Nan informed Sev that she was going to P by D – their potions company - and asked what messages he wanted delivered. Severus requested she floo Eldon Lloyd first, and ask when he could come to check on Potter, the sooner the better. Sev worried that if they let too much time pass, magic might not be able to do much to heal Potter completely. He was slightly apprehensive that it might already be too late.

The Potions Master also asked to her contact Dumbledore and arrange for a meeting the next day, preferable close to midday. He was not sure he could stand Albus cheerful attitude, and subsequent guilt trip - once he knew of the abuse his ‘Golden Boy’ suffered in a place were he was supposed to be safe - too early in the morning. He also wanted to have a couple of house-elves stationed at the flat. The boy would not be able to do anything for a while in his condition; even with whatever treatment Eldon advised he was probably going to be bedridden for several days.

As an after thought, he asked her to buy Potter a tasteful pair of wizarding glasses. They should let him see a bit more than he did now, perhaps not enough for much reading - though he seriously doubted Potter was the reading kind like his friend the ‘know-it-all’ - but he should be able to recognize people and watch the TV to keep himself entertained. After all, most muggle and muggle-born teens liked to watch the contraption. That should do until they were able to visit a specialist who would cast the necessary spells for the glasses to be completely adapted to the boy, he was not sure Eldon would be able to do that as it was not his field of work.

Once Nan left, Severus went to his room and rummaged in his bathroom’s cabinets for a headache potion; the strongest one he brewed. They always kept the basic healing potions within easy access, all the others were stored in his workroom which was most of the flat’s second floor, though no muggle would have guessed the place was actually two storied. After the potion took effect, he debated between brewing something to keep himself distracted, read one of the many pending books he had in the study or simply act muggle and mindlessly watch the TV. The thing was incredibly good for when he was not in the mood for thinking. It practically numbed his mind enough to avoid serious thought. There were also a couple of movies he bought at the start of the summer that he had yet to watch. In the end, reading won, he needed to update the content of the syllabus for his new potions seminar as well as choose a suitable textbook and reference material.

On his way to the study he paused by Potter’s door. He heard a soft noise, and was about to dismiss it when he heard it again. The boy was talking, and whimpering. His years as a Head of House made him enter the room without making any noise and observe. Potter was still asleep and he mumbled or frowned constantly, one scrawny arm covered his face protectively.

The children under his care often had nightmares, especially those that came from unloving homes. He was never one to coddle them, but he understood and listened if they needed to talk, and he ALWAYS helped in those cases where one of his little serpents was abused or neglected. Sometimes the first years got homesick, and usually needed a hug and soft comforting words. Severus was not the hugging kind, he could do it on occasion if needed; it just was not easy for him, it brought back painful memories he rather forget.

To make up for this, he selected among the girls in his house, and sometimes even the boys, those who were willing to comfort the little ones. Since he implemented that method, there had been a huge improvement in the way Slytherin House ran, in the camaraderie of its members, and no one outside was any the wiser, which was perfect for him. His evil ‘greasy git’ image went undamaged by showing he cared for the well being of his charges.

As he watched, it became clear that the boy’s dream was not a good one, and Severus debated waking the Gryffindor up. The decision was taken from his hands moments later. Potter thrashed wildly on the bed, screamed a couple of times and woke up terrified and disoriented. He was frantically searching for something on the nightstand, which Snape believed were his glasses, and when he did not find them he began to panic. The Potions Master approached the bed, Potter looked at him terrified, and he began apologizing in a panicked voice.

“I’m sorry uncle Vernon, I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean to wake you up… I swear I won’t do it again… please… please don’t…” he began to crawl his way as far away from the approaching blur as he could.

Harry was not completely awake, but this had become a nightly ritual since he returned for the summer break. He would have a nightmare or a vision, scream, and wake the Dursleys. Then Vernon would come down to his cupboard and give him a few punches or kicks depending on how loud he had screamed. He knew that apologizing profusely usually helped in getting off lightly. Vernon liked the grovelling.

“I’m not your Uncle Potter, calm down!” Severus was aiming for a neutral tone, but it came out sounding harsher than he intended. The boy did not seem to recognize his voice, but the tone was familiar enough to scare him even more, and he kept trying to back up away from him although he had reached the headboard. Severus tried to get a hold of him before he ended up on the floor. He would only aggravate his recently healed injuries if he fell off the bed.

Severus caught one of the boy’s wrists in a light hold, and was completely gobsmacked by his reaction. Potter panicked, thrashed wildly to get away from him - completely ignoring his injuries - and fell off the bed, with only an indrawn breath to indicate that it had been painful. The boy frantically tried to stand, and when he could not he crawled backwards until the closet door stopped his retreat. For a moment he tried to find other means of escape and when it dawned on the terrified boy that he was ‘trapped’, he curled into a tight, trembling ball. Severus knew it was an effort to protect his most vulnerable organs from harm. Surprisingly Potter had not uttered a sound besides his pleading.

It happened so fast that the Potions Master could only stare in something akin to shock. What he witnessed told him beyond any doubt what the boy’s emotional condition was; and it was not good. Not good at all; this was not the arrogant, defiant and brave boy he pictured him to be. In his place was a very vulnerable and scared child. Potter had not even been completely awake yet, he probably still was not. The reaction he just witnessed was not ‘normal’; those filthy muggles had beaten him into it, he would find a way to make them pay. He wondered how in hell Potter managed to hide such extreme reactions from his dorm mates.

Those ignorant Gryffindor dunderheads probably thought nothing of it. Because of that Harry Potter had been sent back summer after summer to be mistreated by those appalling people. No wonder the boy ran away before his third year, never left Hogwarts during the winter break, and begged to visit the Weasleys every summer break. Well, the bunch of Gryffindors that shared a dorm with him were going to start the term with 300 points in the negative just for sheer stupidity.

Albus was in for it too, but so was Minerva. Did she not check on her foolish cubs every night? Perhaps that was why they were always getting into trouble after curfew. He had monitoring charms and potions – his own creations by the way - all over the Slytherin dungeons, including the halls outside. If one of his serpents was unduly distressed, injured, sick, or out of the common room at night he knew. Did Minerva not have something similar implemented in Gryffindor tower? He knew Flitwick did, although his Ravenclaws were not likely to go wandering after curfew.

It was their duty as Heads of House to see to the overall well being of the idiotic brats. Besides those measures, he made his rounds through the dormitories each and every night, never at the same time though. It would not do to have a predictable pattern; the little menaces were far too clever to risk it. He did all that for his charges, and he was not by any means, the paternal kind, at least he did not believe himself to be.

Why did Minerva not do the same? She was always bragging how much she cared for her cubs, perhaps it was just too much for her to juggle three positions, if something as evident as the boy’s condition had slipped past her. Had Potter been in Slytherin his actions would have caught either his or his prefects attention the first week of his first year.

‘Merlin’s beard! How am I supposed to deal with a boy in this condition?’ He thought watching the trembling, panicked lump that was Harry Potter. He wondered how this terrified child was ‘supposed’ to save the Wizarding World from the Dark Lord, when he needed saving himself?

“I’m not the right person for this!’’ He muttered as his hand went to his hair, combing the tendrils that escaped the ponytail out of the way. It was a nervous gesture he rarely allowed other people to see.

Severus revised his options; Nan would probably go to Potter and offer comforting words, soothing motherly hugs and caresses. She did it for him occasionally; even now that he was a grown wizard. There were still times when the nightmares became too much, he had seen and done far too many horrible things in his life not to have troubled sleep. He welcomed that gesture of affection, it was a reminder that things got better, that he had someone who cared, and it always helped him feel better. But she was not here to offer that kind of reassurance and comfort to Potter, just as she was not going to be at Hogwarts.

As he watched the frightened boy, his heart gave an odd painful lurch, reminding him that yes, it was still there, and it was not completely frozen yet. It was also now, as he watched the boy that the reality of Nan’s words finally dawned on him. There was only going to be the two of them at Hogwarts. He was responsible for Potter, and it was Severus who had to provide comfort, to soothe his fears, to get him back on his feet, to help him gain the knowledge and confidence he needed so he could stand a chance against the Dark lord.

Damn that old meddling coot! He probably had some of these things in mind even if he ignored the boy’s current condition. With a resigned sigh, Snape admitted that it no longer mattered how much he wanted to be emotionally detached from the whole apprentice/guardianship situation, he, in good conscience could not be. If he gave in to that impulse, Severus knew he would be no better than the muggles that ‘raised’ him; denying Potter that which he desperately needed. With another resigned sigh, he approached the trembling boy slowly, and hunkered before him. This time he refrained from touching him.

“Mr. Potter, you are safe.” He began talking, and immediately saw the boy cringe.

Severus frowned not knowing what caused that, and then he got the feeling that the child associated his last name with harsh words and ridicule. It was strange to get any type of feeling when he was not using legilimency, but he shrugged it off, he needed to concentrate on other things at the moment. Severus sighed again; he had brought this on himself for his treatment of the boy. He had not expected to have to completely drop his act so soon, but the situation called for a change in attitude if he wanted to get anywhere with the boy. For the moment, first names would have to be used.

“Harry, listen to me, you’re safe,” he spoke to him in his most soothing tone. The one that he had not used since the day his little fairy – the pet name he used to call his daughter - died. It brought back painful memories for him, even ten years later. But Harry Potter was not used to gentleness, especially coming from the ‘overgrown bat’ - as he had heard Ronald Weasley call him on more than one occasion- and it might just be strange enough to break through the boy’s panic. “You are safe here Harry, just remember where you are, your uncle can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him. Just calm down… Harry, and breathe… No one is going to hurt you, I promise,” he kept talking slowly in the same tone until the boy became aware he was being spoken to, and his panicked breathing slowed a bit.

When the child uncurled from his tight ball, Severus decided to pick him up. He could not leave him on the floor that would only aggravate his healing injuries. He informed Potter of his intention hoping the boy would not start to panic again. The moment he lifted him, Harry tensed up and began hyperventilating in terror. The Potions Master again got the feeling that Potter did not know who he was. He did not recognize him because of his gentle tone, and he remembered that the boy had not been afraid of his touch when he knew it was his professor that touched him.

“It’s me Potter, Professor Snape. You’re at my home, and those filthy muggles will never again lay a hand on you.” His voice was still velvety soft and gentle, but his words were much more in character with his Professor persona, the one the boy was familiar with.

Recognition flashed for a second on Harry’s face, but he was still a trembling mess and it seemed he was beginning to feel his injuries. His broken rib was probably hurting a lot if the shallow breathing was any indication. Severus decided to sit on the bed with the child on his lap. Potter was small and light enough for that, and the boy’s head fit well under his chin. One of Severus’ hands began carding through the unruly mop of hair. It was almost acting of its own volition, in a pattern he thought long forgotten. He had done it to soothe Pat when she had nightmares or was upset. His little fairy had loved when he carded his fingers through her hair. It calmed her, and most of the times put her to sleep. It seemed that caress had a similar effect on his apprentice. In the same tone of voice he had been using, he coached him into getting his breathing under control; he also kept muttering reassuring nonsense in between instructions hoping to relax the boy.

“Pro… Professor Snape?” Harry stammered shocked when it finally dawned on his fear muddled mind who the person holding and comforting him was.

Harry could not believe it. He must have lost his mind during one of his cruciatus infested visions. This was the first time that there was someone to comfort him after a nightmare. The fact that it was Snape, of all people, doing it was what had him believing he was St. Mungo's psychiatric ward material.

Ever since he could remember this had been one of his dreams. To have someone, anyone, care enough about him to actually offer comfort; to hold him and hug him, to just BE there for him. His parents probably did when they were alive, but he could not remember. He had been too young when they died, and the Dursleys had never cared. A part of him wanted to stay just were he was and bask in the rare feeling of safety and caring, another - which was probably what remained of his survival instinct - was all for moving away to avoid the professor’s wrath.

Surely Snape would be angry with him, - Harry reasoned - furious even, for disturbing him. Vernon would be, and although the Potions Master had told him he would not hit him, he did have a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit that hurt almost as much as his uncle’s fists. The little rational part of his mind that had started functioning screamed at him that if the Professor was indeed angry, Harry would not be sitting on his lap, nor would his hand be messing Harry's hair in such a nice relaxing way. Survival instinct won though, and he attempted to get away from the wizard. Snape’s other arm tightened around him when he tried to move. So Harry stayed put, and decided to accept the comfort offered, seeing as he did not have another option. His mind was still too muddled by his dream of Vernon, and by Snape’s strange behavior. Besides, he did not feel like wading through his confusion at the moment.

“What is it Mr. Potter?” Severus kept his tone soft, but decided to address Potter in a manner that was slightly more familiar to the both of them. He knew the boy was confused by his abrupt behaviour change, and he also felt a bit uncomfortable. He began wondering why it was that he all of a sudden had those slight insights onto what the boy was feeling, he would need time to think about that later.

“I’m… I’m s… so… sorry Sir,” Harry stammered ashamed of showing his weakness, of proving to Snape how worthless he really was; terrified of a dream. Well it was actually more of a memory, but he had let the Potions Master see he was a coward. “I… I…”

“There is no need to apologize,” Snape told him in a voice that held no condemnation. It startled the boy, because he actually sounded understanding. “You’re entitled to have nightmares, we all have them every once in a while. Some of us get them worse than others, but that is all Mr. Potter,” he added rationally. He needed to make a plan on making those muggles pay, especially the uncle. Why should the boy apologize for doing something that was beyond his control and part of human nature?

“But… but I…” Harry tried again mortified and tense, not knowing what to expect. But the older wizard’s comforting caresses did not let him remain tense long; he unconsciously leaned into the hand, it felt so nice he could get addicted to it. “I… I disturbed you!”

“You did not!” He stated firmly, Harry gave a startled squeak, and went rigid.

‘Now you did it idiot! He wasn’t angry and you had to open up your mouth,’ Harry berated himself.

“Rest assured that I will let you know if that occurs. Now, enough with the apologizing Mr. Pot… Harry.” He corrected himself. Calling the child by his first name was really going to take some getting used to. But he thought it might help in earning Potter’s trust, which he was going to need to get him through the emotional traumas of his life with his relatives. “As I said it was only a nightmare and no one should be punished for it.”

“That is until I do it again… and… again… and… again,” Harry muttered very low. Snape was not supposed to hear it, but he did anyway.

“You have them often?” The Potions Master inquired.

Severus was a bit concerned about that possibility, it just pointed at things being worse for the boy. Although he should not be surprised, Potter had seen Diggory killed, he had been there for the re-birth of the Dark Lord. Knowing that was enough to give him – who had seen a lot of horrible things in his life - nightmares. What could anyone expect from a boy Potter’s age? It was also no wonder that defensive reflex was so ingrained if he woke up screaming frequently. It would only make the uncle more violent towards his nephew. Potter was silent, not wanting to respond, and Severus did not blame him; it was understandable in lieu of their previous interactions, but he needed to know.

“Well Harry? I need to know if I’m going to do anything about it. How often do you have these… nightmares?”

“You can do something about them?” Harry asked in a timid voice, completely unlike what Snape was used to. It was also full of hope that he would finally be able to sleep without waking up screaming in either pain or terror. He probably had not slept well since his name came out of the goblet for the Triwizard Tournament, and it was almost a year since that happened. There had been nightmares before, but not as often. So he did get to sleep.

“In most cases, yes I can. There are potions to keep them at bay, but they are not a ‘cure’ by any means.”

“I… I remember there’s one called ‘Dreamless Sleep’. Madame Pomfrey sometimes uses it.” He ventured saying, he had taken it before and it helped him.

“Yes, that is one of them. The… type of ‘Dreamless Sleep Potion’ I brew for Madame Pomfrey can’t be taken continuously, no student has needed to drink it for more than a few days. The same happens with most of the other commonly known and sold potions. But I created one that can, and won’t cause addiction or disagreeable side effects. That is why I need to know Mr. Potter, so I can decide what potion will be best.” He had spoken in what most students called his lecture voice. The boy was again silent, considering his words.

“Every night,” he said ashamed, his blurry gaze settled on where his hands were supposed to be. Not all were nightmares, at least not since Voldemort returned, but he was not sure he could tell Snape of the visions; and there was the chance that the potion would stop the visions, so he need not tell. “Sometimes I have more than one a night.”

“More than one a night?” The boy nodded. “Are they about Diggory’s death? Is this just from the tournament, or have you been having the nightmares for longer?” He asked curious, though he really was not expecting an answer.

“Not… always. I’ve… I’ve always had nightmares, but… but they got worse last year… since… since the… the tournament,” Harry reluctantly responded.

“I see.” No wonder Potter had been on edge, and looking tired all that time. It also explained better why the scans reported him so weak. Well, he could do something about getting the boy some sleep, and he would have to see what to do about the nightmares. Talking things through usually helped, so much so, that even he did not have them that often now; and when he did, it was because something triggered them. “It seems you need potion 359. I haven’t named it since I created it mostly for personal consumption, I’ll give you a dose tonight with the rest of your healing potions.”

“Thank you Sir, I… I… appreciate it,”

“Are you more yourself now?” He asked waving aside the boy’s thanks.

“Y… yes Sir,” Harry responded amazed at the man’s lack of scorn, and surprised they had been conversing civilly.

Harry would have expected Snape to tear him apart with his sarcasm, to recriminate him for being childish, and acting up like a spoiled brat. Instead, his Professor was being very understanding. It was rather hard to believe, although now that he could think clearly, he remembered the Professor had not acted like he used to all day.

Snape had told him that he would take care of him, and he had not believed it. Now he was even calling him by his first name, and Harry found he actually did not mind, it meant the Professor was seeing him and not his father. Harry really could not complain. He had already gotten more than he ever expected to receive from anyone. The difference with the way the Dursleys treated him was huge; and this was a man that HATED him!

“Good,” Severus said and decided to settle Potter back on the bed since he no longer needed to be comforted. The boy had looked slightly disappointed for only a second before he composed his features into a neutral expression. That surprised Sev a bit, but he decided not to comment on it, no need to embarrass the boy when he was trying to gain his trust. “Now, Nan warned me that we might have to repeat the following until it is engraved in that Gryffindor head of yours, and I can see she was not far off. So I want you to listen carefully Harry,”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said softly, unnerved at the fact that he HAD wanted to remain sitting on Snape’s lap like a small child. He had felt so safe, and he began to attribute the feeling to the fact that he knew to what lengths his Professor had been willing to go to protect him. In his experience, only his parents had been willing to die to keep him safe.

“You are now my apprentice. That not only means that I will teach you. It also means I am your legal guardian.” He paused to let that sink in. By the look on the boy’s face he had forgotten that fact, even though he had mentioned it at least once since he picked him up. But then Potter had still been dazed and not completely ‘there’, so this little reminder was probably in order. “First and foremost, I will NEVER hit you in anger or punishment. I give you my wizard’s word Harry…”

“Your wizard’s word?” He could not help but ask, his face reflecting his surprise. He was not that well versed in wizarding customs, but Hermione had pointed this one out. A wizard’s word was something to take seriously; giving it in such a fashion was almost like a binding magical contract. It was never given lightly.

“Yes, you have my wizard’s word Harry. Second, I will take care of all your basic needs like food, medical attention, clothes and a place to sleep. Dumbledore chose me because he believes I can not only provide the protection you need, but also the knowledge; and I will do so to the best of my abilities. I’m sure you are aware that I’m not just an average wizard. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes Sir, you’re actually quite powerful,” Harry said staring wide eyed at his professor. His words were finally setting in his mind though it might still be a little while longer before he did not have to think hard about it to remember.

“We will be living together until you pass your Mastery exams. That on average - for a Hogwarts graduate - is about five years, quite a few more for Potions Masteries. I’ll need to assess your abilities outside my classroom to decide if you’re Potions Master material. You have not graduated yet, so do the maths. To survive that long without killing each other,” this brought a slight smile to both of them. Although Harry was not able to see his smile, the tone of Severus voice from that last statement was amused. “We must get along; don’t you agree?”

“Umm… yes Sir. You’re right,” Harry responded with a slight nod. He could see the merit in this. Snape was the adult of the two, and it seemed that he was finally acting like it. It also meant that the Professor was probably going to at least try and be civil with him, and expect him to reciprocate. Harry thought he might be able to do that.

“You have already learned more about me since I picked you up from your relatives’ house, than anyone else knows besides Nan, Albus, and Minerva.”

Harry frowned at this. He didn't think he knew more about Snape than any other student, but then he realized that he did. Snape had told him his views on muggle inventions and that he didn't believe in physical punishment of children. He also found out the man could drive a car, lived in a muggle flat – with his ex-nanny - he listened to muggle music, and he could be comforting. These were things he would never have believed of his potions professor. The sum of all that was why he believed the man was not acting like Harry was used to, because he was letting Harry know there was more to him than just the Potions Master of Hogwarts. His face lit up with understanding and he nodded.

“I have come to the conclusion that I can’t keep up the ‘overgrown bat’ act 24/7,” He was amused when he saw Harry look flustered and slightly ashamed. Did those incorrigible brats believe he did not know what they called him? He had been aware of their childish monikers since the first day he started teaching. “I am aware of what you students call me Harry, I’m definitely not deaf. They have called me that among other things; I’ve grown used to it. It is part of the role I’ve had to play.”

“I’m still sorry Professor Snape,” Harry mumbled still ashamed. “I… we… didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“Of course you did! Why go to all the trouble of calling someone names if you don't mean it? But I won’t hold it against you at the moment. If I hear you calling me that later though…”

“Oh no Sir, I don’t think I could call you that ever again… you’re… you’re being,” he hesitated in mentioning the word ‘nice’. He got the feeling Snape might not appreciate it.

“Civil?” Severus supplied, glad the boy had the sense of omitting the word ‘nice’. He was not a NICE man, and would not become one, despite what the trio of Nan, Albus and Minerva believed.

“Umm… yes, civil Professor,”

“You do seem to posses some sense after all,” he mussed. His tone was neutral, so Harry felt it was not meant to insult him. It felt more like it was a ‘revelation’ to the man. “I am going to let you know more about me, since I don’t plan on keeping the act up in my home and in the privacy of my quarters, it would be too tiresome. This means I’m going to place some of my trust in you. In return, I expect you to at least try to return the courtesy, because it has come to my attention that you keep as many masks as I do.”

“Masks? I… I don’t know what you mean Sir,”

“Mr. Potter, I am neither blind nor stupid. So don’t offend my intellect by pretending not to know what I’m talking about.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled having the grace to look ashamed, and more than slightly uncomfortable. The conversation was veering to areas he did not want dwell in at the moment, perhaps never.

“You have managed to fool the whole Hogwarts staff for four years about the situation you were living in. I have to congratulate you on that, not even my most cunning Slytherin has been able to hide something like that for more than a couple of months, and I suspected for half of that time. No one suspected it of you. It’s not something a Gryffindor should be able to manage.”

“But… I… I thought they knew!” Harry stuttered surprised. “Or I thought that the Headmaster had at least an idea.”

How could they not know? Harry had believed it was his lot in life, he might not have liked it but there was no other way. That was also one of the reasons why he also did not say anything. Why mention it when he was sent there every summer despite knowing it was hell for him?

“What do you mean you thought we knew? Do you believe us so callous as to send you back to that?” He was appalled, what could have led the boy to believe that? Harry only shrugged a bit despondent. “No one deserves to live like that Harry, no one.” The boy looked away from him, and it told Severus that the child indeed believed he deserved it. “What made you believe we were aware of your home life?”

“Little things…” Harry said, but he decided not to tell, Snape sounded angry enough. He rather not return to dealing with the ‘greasy git’ from school.

“Like what?” He asked and the boy clamped his mouth shut refusing to speak as he shook his head. “Look Harry, I am not asking you to confide in me out of the blue, I’m aware that you don’t trust me…”

“It’s not that Professor…” He admitted, and would have loved to see the gaping face of his potions professor, as he had practically admitted that he trusted him. “It’s just that if you did not know then I rather not… talk about it.”

“I can assure you Harry that no one at Hogwarts knew about it. They would not have left you there this long. But I do now, and I really would like to know what it was that made you believe we knew.”

“I… really would like not to ever have to talk about it Professor. I’m not there anymore… you say you won’t treat me like they did. That’s fine with me.” He said fidgeting with the blanket, fixing his blurry sight anywhere but Snape’s blur.

“Look Harry, I know we have not been in the best of terms before. I have to admit I’m mostly the one to blame.” He saw the boy’s head snap up to look at him and his eyes widen when he recognized the apology, the only one Severus was likely to give. “But I know that in time you will have to talk about this, with me or someone of your choosing so you can get over it and move on. Believe me, you’re not the first student in that situation. I usually take it upon myself to detect them and do something about the situations at home, so I do know what I’m talking about.”

Harry was rather shocked; he was not the only one with nasty relatives? In his mind he believed it only happened to him because he was different, and no one else. It also amazed him that Snape appeared to actually care for his students enough to help. It also surprised 'the-boy-who-lived' that no one had been able to pull off what he did. But then, those other students did not have everybody looking up to them, their very lives exposed to the entire wizarding world like he did. All those people needed him to be strong, and he could not let them see that he was not; that he was weak, scared and a freak. He had to be better and work harder to hide his life at the Dursleys.

He had really thought Dumbledore and the other Professors knew. How could they not? Hagrid had to rescue him from some God forsaken hut on an island so he could go to Diagon Alley. He wore rags and always returned to school so skinny and tired. Ron and the twins had to rescue him from his locked room before second year; he blew up Aunt Marge and ran away in third year. He never got owls from his family. There were lots of little things that pointed out to the way his life was at home. He really found it hard to believe no-one noticed his flinching and cringing, even if it had not been as bad as it was now.

But now Snape knew, and even if he was not mocking him, Harry was still afraid to open up. He did trust the man, but he feared giving him the power to hurt him, even if it was also the power to help. He had never had anyone he could share all of his troubles with, not even Hermione and Ron. They knew bits and pieces but not all; he did not believe they would understand. What would they have thought about him? Would they have remained his friends? Ron had already proved that he was rather fickle, that he was not as good a friend as Harry had thought he was. He had forgiven him, but he was not sure he could forget and trust him the way he did before.

Snape was not fickle, that much Harry was sure off, and he did trust the Potions Master. He trusted the man more than he trusted anyone else after his visions this summer, and that included his friends, his Godfather and Professor Lupin. So the question was if he could open up to the man and let him know what he kept hidden. The Professor was not pushing him to speak; he had even let him know that he could talk with anyone he chose, meaning anyone that he trusted. The thought was rather frightening, and Harry reached the conclusion that it was too soon to talk about the Dursleys. But he was going to try to let Snape know a bit more about himself; it would be an even exchange of information for the sake of getting along. The Professor already knew he had never lived the life he believed him to be, and perhaps that was one of the reasons for the change on his part.

“The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin, but I asked it to put me ANYWHERE but there, so it put me in Gryffindor.” Harry conceded after being silent for a few moments thinking.

“It did WHAT?” Severus asked rather shocked, he was not expecting Harry to say something like that.

Was Potter playing a prank on him? A look at the boy’s face let him know he was being sincere. Harry was offering something that he considered of equal value to what he had already learned of him. He was not yet willing to delve into the way he was treated by his relatives, but he was letting him know that he was not going to completely close off. It was actually very Slytherin of him. This information was not common knowledge; Severus could almost bet the rest of the trio did not know. This was also a rather subtle way of confirming that he indeed had his trust, and he was willing to return the courtesy he had asked for. How in hell did he earn his trust with the way he treated Potter? The Potions Master shook his head bewildered, perhaps he could ask about it later.

“How did you manage to make it change its mind? It’s completely unheard of. Besides, why go to Gryffindor? It’s the complete opposite of Slytherin; Ravenclaw is more of a match.” He decided to go along with the change of theme for the moment; pressing for answers in cases like his would only make the boy clam up.

“I just insisted until it finally gave in. If you remember my sorting took longer than the rest, and about Gryffindor? I suppose I have enough qualities from the house to stay in there. I have been a Gryffindor for four years and most people believe I was born to be there.”

“You are a better actor than I gave you credit for.” Harry just shrugged, he did not think about it as acting, but as doing what he had to do, to remain there. “So why didn’t you go to my house?”

“I met Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley; he told he was going to be in Slytherin. Then I met him again in the train. He… he reminded me of…”

“Your cousin perhaps?” Severus supplied, Malfoy was as spoiled as that small killer whale.

“Yes, I’d had enough of Dudley types. I was also told that everyone in that house become evil Dark Wizards and that the one that killed my parents was a Slytherin.”

“Of all the biased ideas…” Severus began quite angry, and wondered who told the boy when he remembered Hagrid had been the one assigned to take the boy to Diagon Alley. The half-giant had reason to be prejudiced, even though they had a civil work relationship, and Hagrid had stood up for him at times, when he was a student.

“I know now that it’s not completely true Professor,” the boy interrupted him. “Voldemort did come from there, but not all Slytherin are evil… You’re not.” Now this comment surprised the Potions Master, he knew that until the end of term Potter did think him evil. So what made him change his mind? “But as you can guess, that was enough for me to want to be anywhere but there.”

“That would be understandable; Draco Malfoy is an unbearable brat after all.”

“You… you don’t like him? But… I… we… we thought he was your favorite!” Harry stuttered shocked.

“I detest the brat; he was number one in my list of spoiled children, even over you Harry. But I had roles to play…” He did not finish because he heard Nan had arrived. “We will finish talking later, right now I think you should have something to eat, and drink your potions.” He stood up from the bed.

“I’m… I’m not hungry… Master?” Harry said, the later a question as he was not sure what the correct way to address Snape was. He heard the wizard stop dead in his tracks before he spoke in an icy tone.

“Never, Potter, and I mean NEVER! Call me that,” he spat. His disgust for the title overrode his resolve to keep a neutral tone when addressing Potter. He had been forced for a long time to call that demented creature Master. He had too many bad associations to the word to let any being address him as such.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Harry stammered, back again to being the frightened child. Afraid ‘nice’ Snape was back to ‘bastard’ Snape. Inwardly the boy cursed himself for looking so weak. He heard the man sigh before he spoke.

“I’m not angry at you… Harry. Master is indeed the proper way to address me. I just…” He found himself explaining his words, something he seldom, if ever, did.

“That’s what you called ‘HIM’. I… I… apologize Sir.” Harry had a moment’s insight. He knew Snape was forced to call Voldemort ‘Master’ and guessed it was hard to swallow for the proud Potions Master. It probably brought bad memories too, what he saw during his visions was enough to make his skin crawl, and Snape had been a Death Eater for longer than he had been alive. “What should I call you then?”

“Professor, Sir… even Snape would do for now,” Severus told him surprised at the understanding. He had not given Harry permission to address him by his first name yet. It was just too soon for him to feel comfortable with it, but he knew that he might give it sooner rather than later. “You will have some dinner Potter. I believe Nan prepared some kind of broth to introduce you back to eating again. You are skin and bones, and can’t afford to skip a meal. Besides, most of the potions you are taking work much better when taken on a full stomach. Understood?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry agreed. He was not very hungry because he had gotten used to not eating much, or often, but he could see the Professor’s point. With that he heard Snape leave the room, leaving him to ponder at how weird his day had become. No one would believe he had had a civil conversation with Snape.