Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts. 7th July 1991.

***

“One more thing Severus.”

The tall, dour man paused beside the fireplace and turned back to face the headmaster.

“There is a task which I need you to carry out for me, one which is somewhat sensitive.”

Severus sat back down and raised his eyebrows.

“Well?”

“It concerns one of our new cohort for September. You do realise who will be starting next year...?”

“Potter.” The name was spat with no attempt to hide the distaste. “The Boy Who Lived. I would be hard pressed not to realise that he turns eleven this summer given the Daily Prophet’s continual reminders.”

Dumbledore gave a serene smile.

"The child needs to be visited, introduced to the wizarding world and helped to prepare himself for joining Hogwarts.”

“He doesn’t know he’s a wizard?” Severus raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Has he at least been sent his admissions letter?”

“I thought he would benefit from a personal touch in all this. His circumstances are somewhat unusual.”

“He’s muggle-raised; it’s going to come as a shock for him,” Severus said unemotionally.

“Yes, there is that,” Dumbledore mused.

Severus waited for the old man to elaborate but he seemed unwilling to enlighten him any further.

Severus sighed. “So you’re asking me to enlighten him, accompany him to Diagon Alley, then bring him here?”

“If you would be so good.”

“He’s with Lilly’s sister and her husband I take it, his Aunt and Uncle?”

“In actual fact, that is not how things worked out. They wouldn’t take him in; he’s in an institution called Southerdale Children’s Home.”

If Severus hadn’t eliminated all outward traces of his natural emotional responses he would have gaped at this.

“Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Lily’s son is in a children’s home? He who would have been welcomed into the bosom of virtually any wizarding family?”

For once, Dumbledore seemed truly discomforted. “Well, of course we have to respect the decisions that the muggle authorities have taken...”

“That is disingenuous, Albus.”

Severus couldn’t get his head around it. Harry Potter, the golden boy, the wizarding world’s darling... had grown up in a children’s home. It was unbelievable. Impossible. He was destined to grow up in luxury, molly-coddled and spoilt rotten. It was inconceivable that he’d grown up forced to endure such a bitter diet of neglect. Severus knew muggle children’s homes all too well, having been in one briefly at nine years of age, when his father had been drinking heavily during his mother’s first illness. Thankfully he’d been seventeen by the time she had died, and hadn’t had to repeat the ordeal.

“I will fetch the brat, Albus. Even if I cannot begin to fathom the game which you have been playing.”

***

Southerdale Children’s Home. 8th July 1991.

***

Severus was clad in a muggle outfit; it was smart, about as far away from the kind of thing his father had used to wear as it was possible to find, black trousers teamed with a crisply ironed dark grey shirt.

From outside the front door he could hear the clattering and commotion within. He rang the doorbell and waited impatiently, part of him still unable to comprehend that he was about to help the spawn of James Potter. Even if he was also Lily’s boy. The sooner the Potter brat was ensconced at Hogwarts and off his hands the better.

The door opened a crack and a tall, acne ridden teenage boy peered out at him.

“What d’you want?” he demanded.

“I’m here to speak to Mr Potter.”

“You what?!” the boy tried to slam the door but Severus was too quick and caught it with one arm.

“If you’d be so kind,” he sneered forcing his way into the hall.

“There’s some fucking cop or sommat in the hall way!” the boy cried as he backed into the kitchen.

“Dylan!”  A dark man in his thirties admonished even as he came to greet Severus. A riot of children bustled behind him.

“I’m Tyler Eddison. Can I help you, Mr...”

“Snape. I’m here concerning one of the children in your care, a Mr Potter, who turns eleven later this month.”

“Yeah Harry lives here; I’m sorry, which agency did you say you work for...?”

Severus fixed his dark eyes upon Tyler. “I’m sure you have already received the paperwork.”

There was a long pause before Tyler eventually blinked and looked away.

“...Ah...yes of course Mr Snape. All in order,” he replied weakly, his eyes still glazed.

“So, Mr Potter...?” Severus prompted.

“Ah yes, follow me. Right everyone!” Tyler led the way into the kitchen. “Where’s Harry? Oi Khalid, KHALID! Has Harry been down for breakfast yet?”

The noise didn’t diminish to any degree, and most of the children seemed oblivious to the adult’s questions, but the boy that Tyler had addressed directly looked up briefly.

“He’s up the shops,” he said.

“Ah. Right. Well Mr Snape, it seems you might need to wait for a bit then...”

***

The nearest shops, a newsagents and small supermarket, were barely a ten minute walk Severus discovered, but when he got there he could only see an elderly customer and no sign of Harry.

Glancing around, trying to decide his next move Severus spotted a figure in the distance. The child was wearing scruffy jeans and a navy t-shirt which had a tear down one side. His dark brown hair was long and unkempt and when he looked up with a guarded expression at Severus’ approach his eyes were a startling shade of emerald.  

Lily’s eyes, Severus recognised unwillingly. He would have recognised the brat from his eyes alone, even if he hadn’t been the doppelgänger for his father. Severus was on the verge of introducing himself when the child spoke.

“What the fuck you looking at, then?”

What the fuck you looking at, then? For a moment Severus reeled from the sheer fury he felt coursing through his veins at the boy’s insolent attitude, but then he reminded himself of how he had felt at a similar age. The child certainly didn’t look at if he was cocky. Wary and uncared for were more apt descriptors.

“I have a letter for you Mr Potter,” Severus sneered withdrawing the Hogwarts letter from his pocket and holding it out to the boy.

Harry made no attempt to take the letter.

“Piss off,” he said turning away and rooting around in his pockets for a lighter. Pulling a roll-up from behind his ear he ignored Severus completely as he lit the cigarette.

Severus set his lips into a thin grim line as he watched the child inhaling the noxious fumes. With a quick glance to confirm there were no witnesses around he withdrew his wand.

“Accio cigarette,” he said clearly.

Harry had been mid-way through taking a drag when his cigarette somehow slipped from his fingers but instead of falling to the ground hovered and moved through the air. He turned to watch, his jaw hanging open.

Severus took the cigarette and grimacing fastidiously he allowed it to fall to the ground whereupon he stamped it out.

“What the-”

“Careful Mr Potter, if you swear at me a third time there will be repercussions.”

Harry seemed to put his head on one side as if confused. Then he blinked a few times.

“Did you...Did...”

“Yes, Mr Potter I accio’d your disgusting cigarette.” 

There was a long silence which Harry eventually broke with a simple all-encompassing question. “How?”

***

Later that day after Harry’s meagre possessions were shrunk and deposited in Severus’ pockets, and Harry had grunted his goodbyes at the people who were the closest he had ever come to a family, the two of them sat in the restaurant area of a pub not far from Southerdales.

It turned out that Harry’s table manners bore startling resemblance to those of an Azkaban inmate. He ate furiously- as if he was terrified that his meal might be whisked away from him at any moment, and he continually sheltered his plate with the hand that wasn’t holding the fork. He also ate with his mouth wide open, Severus realised, before averting his eyes in distaste.

“So where you taking me then?” Harry demanded as soon as he’d finished.

“Have you still not read the letter, Mr Potter?” he asked incredulously. “Are you that disinterested in your future?”

Harry’s grubby hand delved into his jeans pocket.

“You read it,” he said chucking it on the table between them unceremoniously.

All at once Severus understood.

“Mr Potter, am I right in thinking you cannot read?” he enquired silkily.

There was a sudden scraping of his chair and Harry was on his feet and heading for the door as he shouted: “Fuck you! Fucking prick!”

If they had been in a wizard pub Severus wouldn’t have hesitated to cast Petrificus Totalus on the brat; as it was he contented himself with striding after him and grabbing him scrawny arm to whirl him round.

“Get off me! Let go of me!”

Harry tried to lash out at the older wizard who caught his wrists easily.

“Let me make one thing clear,” Severus told him in a low furious voice. “I have been charged with your protection; you will go nowhere, Mr Potter without my say so, is that understood?”

He gave the boy a little shake to add emphasis to his words. “Mr Potter?”

“Stop calling me that!” the boy cried out in frustration.

Severus was baffled. “It is your name; is it not?”

“You taking the piss? Mister Potter this and mister Potter that? Who says that?”

“Fine- Harry, is that acceptable?”

Harry tried to shake away Severus’ grip. “And I can read, ok? ‘Sjust, that letter’s too poncy ‘right?”

The boy stared at him as if challenging him to dispute this and Severus returned his glare.

 “Listen,” he ordered at last with a curling lip, reluctantly releasing the boy’s arm from his vice-like grip. “We will make our way to our lodgings for the night and perhaps I might read you the letter upon our arrival, assuming of course that your pride can withstand such a blow?”

Harry shrugged and looked back at him defiantly. “Well what we waiting for then?”

***

“Mugwump, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a title, Harry, like Mr or Professor or Doctor.”

“Are you a mug too?”  The boy’s expression seemed serious apart from his sparkling eyes.

Severus’ glared dangerously. “Do you want me to read this or not?”

Starting again, Severus read smoothly, “Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)... Oh very well, what is it now?”

“I don’t get it, do I? What the fuck does any of it mean?” Harry was frustrated.

“That your headmaster is very talented and important,” Severus replied through gritted teeth. “I shall continue: Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform-”

“Inform?”

“Tell you...That you have been accepted-”

“Accepted?”

“They want you to come to Hogwarts...At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed, that means in the envelope, a list of all necessary books and equipment, that’s all the things you need to buy. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl, that’s for wizarding mail, by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Well what is it now?”

Towards the end of the letter Harry had turned away, seemingly uninterested.

“I’m not going.”

“I beg your pardon?” Severus bit out the words in a tone that declared the opposite.

“Can’t go can I? You said I need to buy stuff. Haven’t got any fucking money, surprised you haven’t worked that out by now.”

“You have got money.”

 “ Yeah. That’s why I’ve got all this designer gear, ain’t it?” Harry answered sarcastically.

“Harry, your parents left you money, it’s in a vault in Gringotts, a Goblin bank,” Severus replied evenly ignoring the sniping.

“I’ve got money?”

Severus nodded.

“How much?”

“Your family was extremely wealthy. I am certain you will have more than enough to fund your education.” 

“I’ve got money,” Harry gasped in wonder. He clamoured to his feet and began to pace the room. “I don’t bloody believe this. I’ve got fucking money!”

No doubt, he would soon transform into one of the spoilt rich brats, Severus thought sourly.

“For books Harry. You’re be able to spend your money on books for school and necessities, not squander it on trivialities.”

“I get to have books? Like of my very own?”

Maybe he wouldn’t become spoilt straight away.

“Yes and clothes.”

Harry glanced down at the tattered outfit he was clad in.

“What’s squander?”

“I won’t allow you to waste your money on trivialities.”

“Not even some of it?”

Severus shook his head sternly.

“But I need trivialities.”

“Do you even know what trivialities are?”

Harry shrugged and grinned mischievously. “Well, I know I want some.”

“I tell you what Harry, I will allow you to spend exactly ten knuts on trivialities when we are shopping.”

“Ten knuts?”

“Wizard currency, instead of pounds and pence we use knuts, gallons and sickles.”

 “And I can spend a whole ten knuts on trivialities?”

“Yes Harry, I will allow you to waste a whole ten knuts of your family fortune.” Equivalent to about 30 muggle pence, but the boy wasn’t to know that.

“Brilliant.”

***

9th July 1991, 10.25am. 

"Of all the insufferable dunderheads... I cannot believe that you had the sheer audacity to be so stupid!"

Severus threw the door open and gave Harry a push into the room.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he demanded furiously.

 "It’s not my fault, you should've warned me!"

"Excuse me?!"

"How was I to know about the smoke stuff? You should've told me that would happen!"

 They'd been shopping in Diagon Alley and been making there way out of Scribbulus Everchanging Inks when a loud crash followed by a gust of purple smoke had alerted everyone within the proximity that somebody had set off the standard anti-theft ward.

"You," Severus loomed over Harry menacingly, "should not have been fiddling with items which didn't belong to you, much less, pocketing them! How dare you bring Hogwarts’ reputation into disrepute in such a manner?”

“I just wanted one of them quills things.”

“I was in the process of selecting a whole set of them for you, you idiotic child!”   

“Are you gonna get rid of me?” Harry sounded as if he were resigned to his fate.

“Meaning?”

“You’re gonna kick me out before I even get there aren’t you? I always get kicked out; my last two schools got rid of me as well.”

“Then perhaps it is high time that you learn to leave other people’s possessions alone!”

Harry scowled. “I didn’t get expelled for nicking.”

“Why, what other crimes have you been committing?”

“I didn’t do nothing,’ right. Just fighting and stuff. And one time I ended up on the roof of the school hall and couldn’t say how I’d got there-”

“You moved yourself magically from one place to another?” Severus sighed. “It’s called apparition.”

“Well my teacher called it lying, dint she?”

They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

“Why did all them people act like that, anyway?”

“Like what?”

“In the shops. All that getting excited, ‘it’s amazing to meet you Harry,’ stuff an’ that?”

Severus began to remove various shrunken packages from his pockets.

“It’s because of your parents and the way in which they died,” he said shortly.

“The drugs?”

“Pardon?” Severus stared at him.

“They OD’d didn’t they? I seen my file. My parents died of drugs, my godfather is in prison and my aunt and uncle don’t want nothing to do with me.”

“Your parents did not die of anything to do with drugs, Harry.”

Severus gave a brief, dispassionate account of the events surrounding Lily and James’ deaths.

Now wait for it, he thought cynically.

“So all them people think I’m something special. They think ‘cause I managed to survive as a kid I’ll be able to kill this Dark whatsit?”

“Yes,” Severus said sourly. And now here comes the arrogance, the pride and the conceit...

“Well they made a pretty big fucking mistake there haven’t they?”

Severus managed to hide his surprise with his usual aplomb.

“Evidently.”

“I mean, when Avaris pissed all over my bed I slept on the floor with my coat over me. If I can’t even look after my own bed how the hell am I gonna look after all them people?”

“A valid question.” Secretly impressed by the boy’s level headedness Severus withdrew Harry’s Hogwarts list and began to scan it to see what items they still needed to purchase.

“Are they all gonna be like that? All them magical people? Thinking I’m some kinda superhero?”

“No. The Dark Lord’s supporters will demonise you as much as most magical folk will adore you.”

“Demonise?”

“They will hate you, Harry.”

 “Oh.” The boy looked thoughtful for a while, then shrugged. “Oh well.”

“Come, we will return to the shops and finish gathering your equipment.”

“Alright, I promise I won’t nick anything this time.”

“Oh you won’t be touching anything this time,” Severus assured him with a nasty look before drawing out his wand...

***

9th July 1991, 12.30pm.

Purchasing complete, Severus side-alonged Harry to the gates of Hogwarts.  

“Hurry  up.”

A pale faced Harry staggered through the gate beside him. It wasn’t until he realised the boy was shaking that he knew it was more than just nausea from the apparition.

“What is it?”

“What...” Harry’s voice trailed off miserably.

“Well?”

“What if they all hate me? I mean I’m not gonna fit in here am I?”

“They will have no reason to hate you assuming you behave yourself. In any case it is the summer holidays at the moment, there won’t be many people here, and no students.”

They carried on walking in silence.

“In any case, it is not always necessary to fit in with everybody else,” Severus added after a few minutes.

“Can you make my hands better now?” Harry asked quietly.

Severus shot a sidelong glance at him. All of a sudden he looked very young and on the verge of tears. He drew out his wand and cast the countercharm.

Relieved Harry sucked on the palms of his hands. Earlier Severus had cast a hex on him which made the palms of his hands burn whenever he touched anything. Twice he’d forgotten, touching a door handle and his own head, leaving his hands smarting painfully.

“Don’t think I’ll hesitate to use that hex again if you take anything else which doesn’t belong to you,” Severus said sharply.

They made their way up the main entrance and then towards the doorway of the Great Hall.

“Are you ready to meet your Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore?”

“Chief mug-whatsit?” Harry said quietly almost ashen. “Yeah alright.”

And he followed Severus through the doors into the Great Hall for what would be the beginning of his time at Hogwarts.

"Gryffindor!" the boy cried out angrily as soon as the door slammed behind them.

"Calm down, Harry."

"But bloody Gryffindor!" he repeated. "I don't want to fucking be in Gryffindor!"

"What did I say about using profanities?" Severus replied fiercely.

Breathing hard, Harry seemed to be biting back a retort.

"All right. I'm sorry," he said throwing himself onto Severus' plush, green sofa. "But I'm still pissed off!"

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The brat didn't even seem to register what he was saying half the time, a fact aptly demonstrated by the little outburst he'd just thrown in the middle of the Great Hall during the Sorting Ceremony. If he hadn't already known the boy, he'd have assumed that the child was mentally deficient in some manner from the way he was unable to control his mouth and emotions; but no, he was just the rash, thoughtless offspring of James Potter and the bane of Severus' life.

It had been over seven weeks since he had brought Harry to live at Hogwarts, early in the Summer holidays, and at first they had all hoped that the boy could be guided to adopt more acceptable manners and habits. Alas, they had all ended up realising how hopelessly over-optimistic this had been.

It was now the evening of the first night of term and Harry was no more ready to begin his school career than the other students were to encounter him.

Or the staff for that matter. Only last week Harry had spent a long period of time in conversation with the Headmaster, which he had assured Severus went 'really good'. If the Headmaster's pained and exhausted expression had been anything to go by, he'd found the experience altogether more challenging the boy'd realised, but guilt was a heavy affliction, and perhaps it did Albus some good to recognise the enormity of his decision about Harry's upbringing.

The boy was still notoriously light-fingered, despite Severus throwing a fit whenever he discovered evidence of his thievery. The habit seemed to be ingrained within Harry, after years of growing up in an environment of 'finders keepers'. The 'finding', Severus had discovered often seemed to involve Harry trespassing into rooms where he had no right to be, to borrow items which he had no cause to need.

The one highlight to an otherwise exasperating situation had been the look on Dumbledore's face during his first proper 'chat' with Harry. Allowing students to 'help themselves' to his lemondrops had never previously resulted in them pocketing the whole dishful.

The wise, old wizard had been forced to admit privately that Harry wasn't quite what he'd expected Lily and James' son to be like. Although he still persisted in declaring that the boy would get along splendidly at Hogwarts, after a little time to settle in.

However, time was one thing that they did not have, and the summer had passed quickly. Between explaining the basics of the wizarding world to Harry, spending a proportion of each day teaching the rudimentary facts of reading and writing, and giving him the a very scant knowledge of essential potions knowledge, Severus had fallen hopelessly behind in the research articles that he usually published each summer. That was to say nothing of the time he'd needed to spend remonstrating with the boy for his many misdemeanours; what with playing 'chicken' with the Whomping Willow, wandering off to Hogsmeade whenever the urge took him, and 'tasting' Severus' firewhiskey, it was clear that Harry was completely impervious to any sense of personal safety or well-being.

"I won't go in Gryffindor." The child was proclaiming now, as if he had any choice in the matter.

"And why not?" Severus demanded. Actually he could see quite easily why any sane person might object to being in Gryffindor, but he was a Potter, destined for Gryffindor in the same way as Lucius' son had been placed in Slytherin. There was no getting around the sorting hat.

"Can't you just talk to the Mug- get him to change it, he listens to you." Allowing that nickname had been a mistake from the beginning, Severus realised. And although Harry been sorted into Gryffindor he'd certainly been no sloth at picking up the Slytherin arts of flattery and cajolery.

"Why this reluctance to be placed in Gryffindor?" he asked again.

"I'm not an idiot or a dunderhead, I want to be in Slytherin or Ravenclaw." Harry scowled.

Oh. The only houses he hadn't demeaned.

"This is because of the things I've said?"

The boy just looked at him.

"Harry, you have to go in Gryffindor, the Hat's made it's decision."

"So you think I'm an annoying, gormless little twerp?" Harry declared heatedly.

"Of course not," Severus snapped. "And I'm beginning to question the sagacity of being forthright with you if you're going to quote my words back at me in that virulent manner!"

"I don't fucking understand when you talk like that!" Harry shouted back at him, his eyes glistening with tears. "You know that."

"Language, Harry!" Severus had raised his voice as well now.

They glared at each other for a moment, before Severus sighed and sat down beside the boy.

"Do you realise that both your parents were in Gryffindor?"

"I don't care about them!" Having grown up without any knowledge of who his parents really were, it was taking Harry some time to adjust to the idea that he might actually have a legacy which could mean something to him.

"No," Severus sighed again thoughtfully. "But you will one day, once you have learnt a little more about them."

Feeling uncomfortable, Severus forced himself to continue. "The things I've said to you about Gryffindor are only my opinions..." Mentally Severus grit his teeth, Harry was staring at him, he had to do this. "And may not have been entirely accurate."

Dammit, that was painful.

"You understand what I'm saying? There's a traditional amount of rivalry- one-upmanship- between all the houses, and although I do maintain that the average Slytherin will be more cunning and successful than most Gryffindors, there are exceptions. I will not think any less of you for being in Gryffindor, Harry."

In fact, if anything, I'll probably end up admiring your endurance around all those infuriating Weasleys.

The boy still didn't look very happy.

He was toying with the seam on the seat of the sofa now, seemingly doing his best to tear the material apart with his fingers.

Severus stilled the movement with his hand.

"What is it?" he asked seriously.

Harry gave a sniff and shrugged. "Nothing. I just won't get to see you much any more."

"Of course you will," Severus said immediately.

"I won't; you'll be too busy with all your snakes."

"And who do you think will be spending time in the evenings helping you with your reading? And your writing? Or having to deal with you when you get yourself into more of your ridiculously harebrained trouble?" Severus demanded. "Although it would actually be beneficial if you could endeavour to behave yourself occasionally so that we could spend a little of our time in the labs," he added as an afterthought.

"Really?" The boy seemed so solemn, looking at him with those huge emerald green eyes. If you didn't know him, it would have been impossible to tell his capacity for trouble.

"Really," Severus repeated, pushing him gently in the direction of the door.

The feast would have almost finished by now, but he was determined to see the child eat something and at least try to fit in a little on the first night, even if he had made a complete spectacle of himself earlier.