Harry yawned as he glanced around and crossed another street. He had placed his book in his bag because his memory was showing him a clear enough picture of where he had to go without him constantly staring at the page. He frowned when a blue car drove through a red light but shrugged and continued to walk onwards, not stopping for anything. When he pondered on it, his journey was quite cold and scary, but otherwise rather uneventful. Now that he thought about it, he realized how much danger he could have been in during his time out in the dark and resting in an old alley. Someone could have mugged him, kidnapped him or worst. Not that he had been thinking about it at the time but now allowing his mind to wander only made him further determined to reach his destination before dark. Although, some had other plans.

'Hey!' A voice called out and Harry kept walking until he realized that the older teenage boys were calling out to him. They were across the street and looked exactly like the trouble that the Chinese man must have been expecting. Harry tried to ignore them and just quickened his pace.

'Where you going, kid?' A dark-haired boy appeared in front of him with a smug smirk.

'Yeah, what's the rush?' Another asked with chuckle.

'Leave me alone.' Harry told them. He clutched the strap of his bag as he eyed the four much taller and meaner boys that surrounded him.

'You got any money, kid?' One asked and Harry lost track of who was talking to him while his mind rushed with fear and feeble escape plans.

'Hand it over!'

'I don't have any money!' Harry insisted, mostly because it was entirely true. 'I-I just want to go home.'

'Awe, did you hear that?' One mocked while the others laughed. 'He wants to go home!' The boy joined in while another shoved Harry.

'What's wrong? Did your mummy and daddy kick you out? Guess they don't love you no more!' More laughter ensued but Harry's fear quickly turned into anger and all rational thoughts involving how slim his chances of winning a fight with them faded.

'Just give us your money.' One threatened and the laughter died down. 'Don't make us mad, kid.'

'Yeah, you may get home yet. Just give it to us.'

'I told you.' Harry frowned but his voice was still a little shaky. 'I don't have any money!'

'Well what else you got in your bag, huh?' A redheaded teen grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled Harry towards him.

Harry flinched and stared fearfully at the boy that had grabbed him. He felt two others snatching at his bag and tried to squirm or kick but they were gaining on him. Fear not only for his life but for his book of directions swelled and Harry shoved at the one who had him. To his shock, there was a loud bang and the boy flew several feet away.

Harry thudded to the ground on his hands and knees. He gasped and looked around quickly, seeing all four teens were scattered on the ground around him.

'What the?' One asked. He sounded a little drunk and disoriented.

'The little freak!' One screamed angrily, although he didn't seem quite sure enough to approach Harry again.

Fearfully, Harry forced himself upright and took off at the run in the direction of the street across from him; Harry didn't dare to look back as he charged ahead.

'Yeah, you better run. You freak!' He heard their echoed voices and tried to fight back the tears as he continued to run and put distance between him and his would-be attackers.

'I'm not a freak. I'm not!' Harry sobbed as he turned another corner and skidded to a halt inside an alley. He ducked behind a large dustbin just as he had the night before. Harry pulled out his book and checked where he had to go as he tried to force back memories.

--

'You freak! What did I tell you about doing that in our house?' Uncle Vernon raged as he grabbed Harry by his collar and shoved him into the cupboard under the stairs.

'You'll have no supper tonight for that! Think you can get Dudley in trouble like that, did you? That'll teach you not to be so freaky!'

--

Harry trailed his finger along the page of the book and glanced towards the end of the alley in case the boys had followed him, while he also kept an eye out for a street sign. Spotting one and barely being able to read it, Harry checked his directions and tore out the page. He shoved it into his pocket in case someone did manage to steal his book or the entire bag.

He got to his feet and tried to ignore the small throb of his knees and palms from hitting the road so fast. Harry turned and quickly checked the area before he continued with his journey.

He wondered what his father would have done; maybe he'd be able to fight them off or else he would have money to give them and make them go away with? If his father had been there, he'd have protected Harry, right? Confident that Severus would have, Harry urged onwards. He tensed when he heard a sound but it was merely another car driving along the road a street or two away. He swallowed when he realized that those who had attacked him would be old enough to drive a car. He forced it from his mind and quickened his pace, which was difficult with the snow in various places and his anxiety mingled with the fear of being followed and attacked.

After an hour had passed by, Harry had calmed down, although his hunger and thirst was making itself known again, along with his exhaustion. Not wanting to repeat the previous night, Harry constantly pushed himself forward until he turned a corner and an most glorious sight reach him. Although it wasn't quite what he had been looking for...it was a start. The river. And after checking his map, Harry knew it was only a matter of direction and observation that kept him from the exact location in which he was trying to find.

Harry turned left and was fully alert as he walked by the houses. He constantly glanced at the section of the river that he could see, filled with relief each time he made sure it was actually there and not a figment of his fantasy.

Harry was consumed with such hope and relief, but it too began to feel less promising as the houses continued and there were no further signs. His legs were sore and the snow was making it a constant struggle to even walk; there seemed to be more snow in this part of London than the rest he had seen so far.

Spotting a park, Harry walked towards it and sat on a swing. He felt instant contentedness to having found the right area before dark and also to be able to rest his legs for a moment. He swung the swing lightly, thinking about how he was going to finally see his father and the house he lived in, to have a chance at his own home and family. Harry refused doubt an opportunity to form and merely raised higher into the air. He felt almost like he was flying as he moved backwards and forwards and wondered if he leaped than would he reach the sky?

Smiling, Harry jumped free from the seat and held out his arms. He was not stupid; he had expected a quick landing, but instead it seemed to take a little longer and almost as though he was gliding instead of falling. Although when his feet touched ground again, his nervousness and urgency hit him as well.

As he turned towards the road again, Harry hoisted his bag higher and returned to the path set out before him, borne from his desire and the directions indicated on his map as well as the odd tug of confidence he felt every once and again. As though somehow inside himself, Harry knew he was going the right way.

His shoes kicked at the snow as Harry continued to walk. He looked around at the houses with interest and wondered which one belonged to the man he was sure he loved not just on principal but because even with distance, they still had some kind of bond.

Every thought and feeling came to a crashing halt when his eyes caught sight of something most startling. There was a street sign, one he would have missed had he not looked at it the exact moment a headlight from the distance drifted over its surface. It was now painfully plain to Harry and everything up until that moment was meaningless as he read it; Spinner's End. He was here. Harry had found the place where his father lived. There was no number of the house for his address, but nor did it matter. He knew it was the one at the end, the house in which was a home to his father and could very well be his new home as well. But something was wrong...these houses did not look inviting nor cared for, they were dark and somewhat creepy. It was nothing like he had imagined at all. Perhaps this was the wrong Spinner's End? Maybe Lara and Judith had the address mixed up? There was only one way to find out.

Surging with newfound motivation, Harry ran along the empty road while the sun began to set, casting golden lights everywhere, making some places majestic while others became further unfriendly. This is what Judith had been talking about. Although, she had also stated that no one had answered the phone and the man known as Severus Snape was almost never seen. Harry slowed his pace with these recollections and fear seized him once again. His gaze darted around at the apartments and houses, the dark brick and even darker alleyways. He peered at the curtained windows and surely locked doors; concerned that his father should be behind one of them but may not be.

Reaching the end of the street seemed to take longer than his many hours of searching had. The snow was a little thinner and yet he felt colder with every step. Harry swallowed and looked at the door of the last house; it was no different. All the windows concealed the interiors, the door stood firm and uninviting, and the brick was as dull as the others. At the same time, Harry grinned and rushed forward, stepping as close to the door as he could, convinced that the man he loved and who would care for him was just on the other side. Severus would open the door and smile because he would be thrilled to have his son home again. Yes, that's what would happen.

Harry raised his hand to knock as loudly and yet firmly as he could, grinning as his mind swam with the possibilities and sense of being home at last after many years of absence. Inside would be warm and much more wonderful than the outside, of course. He would have his own room, his own bed and a place to call his. His father would be sorry for leaving him, maybe he had forgotten where Harry had been and wanted to bring him back but couldn't? Maybe his father would tell him stories about his mother while telling him how much he loved him as he pulled Harry into a heartfelt embrace.

Frowning, Harry knocked again, standing on his toes as though there was a window on the door in which he could peer into and see his father, even though there was actually nothing but more wood.

Silence. Convinced he was upstairs or busy, or maybe listening to TV (despite the eerie whisper of the wind around him being the only sound), Harry knocked again with longer and harder pounds.

There was no sound. No placing of a cup against a table, no lowering of a increased volume, no footsteps on stairs or floor, no flutter of the curtains or a voice promising to answer the door...nothing.

Harry swallowed again and checked his map, convinced although discouraged, that he had the right house. He looked around for a doorbell or something useful but found nothing. He tapped on the window but still received no response. Sighing, Harry knocked once more but the silence was cutting and his mood fell like a rotten orange colliding with pavement.

As he turned slowly and lowered his head, Harry tried to fight back anything horrible that threatened to consume him and snatch away everything he had been so sure he'd receive; the love, the sense of having a real home and a family to call his own.

Harry choked on a sob and rubbed his eyes furiously as he dragged out each step away from the house and his mind buzzed with what he was supposed to do now. Wait? Go back to the orphanage and allow fate to take him away? What else was there to do?

With a gush, the door behind him swung open on its hinges and Harry spun around in alarm to stare wide-eyed at a man in dark clothes and with dark hair along with brown eyes to match his own. Unable to speak or even breathe, Harry stared at his father, who had looked suspicious for a moment but now appeared rather horrified as he stared back at him.

For a moment, no one spoke and than as though something had to be said, Harry cleared his throat and forced himself to function as he stepped closer.

'H-Hello.' He gasped out and looked up at his father, seeing familiar features and also strange ones. This was Severus Snape, his father, he was certain of it; brief memories of the man sparked the certainty of that assumption.

'I'm Harry Severus Evans.' He said boldly and whilst he sounded confident enough, his insides were liquid and his mind was a little fuzzy; his mouth seemed to be all that responded normally at this moment.

'Are you my father?' Harry asked that question he so desperately wanted an answer to. He shifted on his feet for a moment and shoved his hands into his pockets as he stared at the man, not daring to look away. He was yet to answer, but after so many years of longing...Harry felt he had all the time in the world to wait.