Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned, feeling a tiny bet rested even if he had woken at least six times in the past five hours due to police sirens, drunks across the street, fighting cats or screeching cars followed by slamming doors or someone dumping trash into a nearby bin and slamming the lid closed.

His stomach was slightly more dull but his throat ached worst than before, something he was instantly aware of as he stood and dusted himself off. Grabbing his bag and strapping it over his shoulders, Harry rubbed a hand through his hair and proceeded to step out of the alley and peer around at the streets that looked vastly different to several hours ago. It was now early morning as the sun had only recently began to rise. The streets were busier and there were more people around. But with the light came a stronger reassurance and the danger ebbed away considerably as Harry turned and continued to stroll down random streets and around any odd corner.

--

After almost an hour of aimless wandering, Harry slowed and sat at a bus stop to catch his breath. His hunger and sore throat were becoming too much and he was losing his will to continue onwards.

With each passing minute he filled with regret and considered his overall plan to be idiotic. How could he find a place he knew nothing of? He lowered his head and his heart leaped with a jolt as he spotted something caught underneath a crack. Bending down eagerly, he pulled the $20 note free and stared at it in disbelief. Sparing not a moment, he looked for the nearest store to relieve his hunger and thirst.

Severus continued to read the Daily Prophet with little interest while thinking upon which potions he had left to brew and which ones he simply felt like brewing. He paused and lowered the paper as he felt an odd tug in his chest and head. It was indescribable, other than it simply felt weird or as though something magical was trying to link to his own magic.

Standing and drawing his wand, Severus tried to assess the sensation or determine its threat, but seconds passed and the feeling faded. It was replaced by a sense of deep concern, not for what he had felt but for something unknown. Severus felt as though he should be worried about something or someone but had no clue what or who. He had never experienced such a sensation before; it was blood deep.

--

Harry sighed contently, having spent his money on food, a drink and a wool hat as well as a pair of gloves. Everything was right again. Except for his mildly aching legs and even worst sense of destination. Harry felt an odd pull and turned towards a street further right, wondering why he suddenly felt as though that was where he had to go. Shrugging and with nowhere else to aim for, he did exactly that; crossing the road to walk along that particular street; at closer glimpse it was really no different than the other streets around him. But nonetheless, Harry felt, for the first time since running away, that he was going somewhere not quite so aimless.

Feeling content with his small meal and juice resting in his stomach as well as the warmth elevating from his new clothes, Harry continued to wander the street and then took a left turn. All whilst walking, he thought upon the man he was searching for, his father. He only knew a few things about Severus Snape and yet he already felt a sense of something towards him, love perhaps? But Harry could not remember being loved; not by his relatives nor by anyone at the orphanage (if he'd been adopted, maybe he would have), and yet he was sure that even though he had never received it himself, that is it was indeed love in which he felt for his unknown father. But he had received it once, hadn't he? Surely at some point in the first two years of his life his parents had loved him? If that was the case, why was he left at the orphanage?

Curious and a bit sad, Harry stopped halfway along a residential street and sat on the gutter at the side of the road to pull out the folder of files he had stolen from Lara's desk. He flipped through them, paying attention to only a few select pieces of paper.

First he checked his birth certificate; seeing his name, “Harry Severus Evans” printed there along with his birthday, 'July 31st, 1980”. His gaze fell to his father's name, “Severus Tobias Snape” and his mother's “Lily Anne Evans”. He smiled as he traced the lettering of her name, having never known it before. He wondered where she was and if she was okay without him, since he recalled that his father had dropped him off but there were no reports of seeing his mother.

Harry sighed as a recollection came to him; his aunt had said some nasty things about her, he thought it was because she was “freaky” and able to do things normal people couldn't, something he was sure he was able to do as well and wondered if his father was the same. He shoved those concerns away, having long ago learned not to listen to his aunt and uncle's lies. He always seemed to know when someone was lying, further making him less trusting towards others.

There were several medical files, which he chose to ignore, and various report letters about how he was coping, incidences in which he had been involved in and various other things he made a mental note to read over later.

As Harry shifted through the files, wondering if it was normal for there to be so many, he noticed a handwritten letter slip to the ground and he hastily snatched it up to read. His heart sank and rose with odd limbo as he eyed the scrap of parchment and swallowed a lump he hadn't been aware of.

-

December, 1987.

Lara Sanders,

Thank you for all of your assistance. I have followed up on the report of Harry Evan's living situation. I was just as displeased after his medical reports came back and his behaviour strongly suggest that you made a grave error in sending the boy to them, although I am just as guilty since I arranged the paperwork. Perhaps if they had been prepared beforehand things might have been better? Well, we can't dwell on that now.

I have enclosed my findings on the boy's family, although I have called often, no one ever seemed to be home and residences state that they almost never seen the man who lives there. His reputation does not seem to be very promising, perhaps it would be wise to not further this matter? We do not want a repeat of the Dursleys. The boy would be better off being adopted, he is only seven, surely his chances are quite high?

Please keep in contact over this matter, although I strongly believe we let it rest. He placed the boy with you at the tender age of two, surely that must stand for something?

My sympathies to your niece, I am sad to hear that she is ill, please let me know if there is anything I can do.

Your friend and business partner,

Judith Jane

-

Harry stared at the piece of paper and couldn't believe it. They had made contact with his father several months after he had been placed with them! Why had they given up? Did they really believe that he wouldn't want him? “He placed the boy with you at the tender age of two, surely that must stand for something?”, Harry scowled and turned the page over, his heart thumping roughly inside his ribcage as he touched the note Lara had scribbled there, no doubt from whatever pile of forms that had come with the letter;

Severus Snape lives in the last house at Spinner's End. Near the river.

Harry gasped and clutched the paper tighter, realizing that he had the directions in his bag the entire time and yet he had been running around aimlessly.

'Stupid.' Harry scowled at himself and shoved the files back into his bag. He sighed and stood upright, turning to look around the street and wonder how far away Spinner's End is; not that he really cared for distance as he had traveled far enough already, it was more about his fear of spending another night in a darkened alley, unprotected and freezing.

Harry heard a sound and looked across the road where two boys of different ages were mucking around and laughing while a wife greeted her husband who had apparent just came home from work. He longed for that; a family of his own.

He ducked his head and shoved his hands into his pockets as he wandered along the street and now paid closer attention to the street signs although he was sure that he was nowhere near a river.

--

Twenty minutes of walking brought Harry back into the midst of traffic and civilization; he felt very lost. Something landed on his shoulder and caused him to shiver, he looked upwards to the midday sky and saw that it was starting to snow; this was not a good sign. But it was late November and Christmas was only weeks away, not that it mattered to him anyway.

'Oof!' He winced as someone ran into his back and nearly shoved him over. He scowled at the teenage boy but he hadn't even glanced over his shoulder. Shaking his head, Harry turned and spotted his first sign of luck since he'd discovered the $20 note under the bus stop seat. It was a store whose name he couldn't quite make out with the peeling paint and beginnings of a snow downpour. He rushed towards it, keeping his hood up as he entered the store that was stocked with books, newspapers and various other reading material. What had caught his attention had been in the display window; a sale on local town maps.

'May I have one of those, please?' Harry pointed it out, relieved that he still have a few dollars to spare.

'Sure kid.' The man behind the counter retrieved one and handed it over in exchange for the money.

'And a soda too please.' He pointed one out while grabbing a small candy bar. The man nodded and Harry felt a bit anxious that he was one again without money, but nonetheless...he now had directions to follow.

He clutched the book and turned to leave but paused and glanced at the man uncertainly for a moment.

'What? Need something else?' He asked, not looking too bothered since he didn't appear to have a busy day nor suspect that he was going to steal something like the Chinese man had.

'Um, could you point out where we are, on this map?' Harry asked awkwardly while holding up his book. 'I'm a little bit lost.' He added, hoping this man wasn't one to take action on the matter and would merely oblige his request.

'Sure.' He shrugged and opened the book. 'We're here.' He pointed.

'Thanks!' Harry grinned and turned to leave before the man could say much else or consider the matter; or worst, ask questions.

Harry stared down at the spot; he was in London and Spinner's End was marked by a river not quite far from where he was. He had heard other kids saying once that if something really wonderful happened then it was as though Christmas had come early. Well, Harry had never been one to enjoy Christmas since he'd never had great experiences there, and yet that is how he felt once he realized that his father was a mere few hours away.

'Hang on dad, I'm coming.' Harry whispered as he crossed the street, clutching his book like a lifeline while sipping his soda and stuffing the candy bar into his pocket.

The snow was still falling, making him colder but no less determined than an hour ago. His soda was gone and his candy consumed, yet still Harry walked on. He had the strongest motivation to reach that house at Spinner's End where he would be reunited with his father, and no amount of increasing snow was going to stop him.

'In a few hours and I'll be home.' He said confidently, so sure that regardless of their past, his father wasn't going to turn him away again. But for the first time since forming his plan; Harry began to feel quite nervous about his desire to see his father again.