My Dear Severus,

It appears that both the Ministry and the Board of Governors have concluded that I have no culpability in Neville Longbottom’s death.  

I wish I could share their opinion.

Nevertheless, I will be returning tomorrow morning, to Hogwarts.  Thank you, very much, for your excellent work in my absence.  Most especially, your work with the students and healers.

I believe Minerva will be staying in London another week, at the least.  She seems to be very helpful to Augusta.

I did have an intriguing conversation, this morning with Arthur Weasley.  He had some news I found most interesting, involving some new experiment you are undertaking.  I assume you will fill me in tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Albus

Severus wondered if he should see a dentist to have a mouth guard made.  His head was hurting from the constant clenching of his jaw.  

He and Dumbledore were well practiced in cryptic missives.  Each of them were hesitant to say exactly what they meant in print.  The experiment he referred to was, of course, Potter.  Naturally, Potter had to tell his little friends about the new arrangement.  And just as naturally they had seen fit to do what they could to rescue Potter from Severus’ evil clutches.

Fortunately, Arthur Weasley was an experienced parent, as well as a former member of the Order of the Phoenix, in its early days.  Discretion was second nature to him.   Hearing a wild story through his son, he’d have enough sense to go straight to Dumbledore.  

Arthur Weasley would also understand the possibility that the Ministry would, essentially, sell the custody of The Boy Who Lived to the highest bidder.  After all, the Longbottoms (Alice and Frank, before they were attacked and injured), the Malfoys, and who knows who else, had petitioned to adopt the child, all those years ago.  It was only the Wizarding World’s unshakable faith in the bonds of blood that had satisfied the families attempting to get their hands on the boy.

Dumbledore would know to put the man off until he’d spoken to Severus, citing security or some such nonsense.

Picking up a quill, Severus penned a quick reply,

Albus,

Yes, I do have a new experiment underway.  Far too complicated to explain here and I doubt Arthur has technical understanding to properly explain it.

In the meantime, I have also had to deal with some family business of an old friend, so I am very glad to hear you are returning.  It has been an exhausting few days.

Let me know when you arrive, I will have much to tell you.

Severus

Given the headmaster’s current mood, Severus had no idea what the reaction to the Potter issue would be.  To be fair, Minerva had commented to Dumbledore several times, in the last two years, that the boy wasn’t happy at the Dursley’s.  Severus had always written it off as nothing more than a Muggle born’s preference for the Wizarding World.   Especially when, in the Wizarding World, the boy was a celebrity.  None of them had translated “unhappy” into “abused”.

Of course, none of them had translated Neville Longbottom’s unhappiness into anything dire, either.

He gave the envelope to the owl and it flew out of the door of the dungeon classroom with practiced ease, this being one of the school owls who generally brought Severus messages here.

Severus firmly turned his mind from his ruminations.  Potter would be here any minute and Severus had to endeavor to have a conversation with the boy, without causing him to have a panic attack.

Fortunately, the appetite stimulant Severus had given him was also mildly anti-anxiety and, more importantly, anti-emetic.  They should be able to get through a meal without Potter’s lunch making a precipitate reappearance.

It appeared that whatever rift had occurred in the Golden Trio had been bridged, for now.  At least, it had appeared so in the last potions class.  Potter had been sitting with Granger and Weasley and had actually spoken to them.  That withdrawal was still there, although less pronounced, now that he was on speaking terms with his friends again.

Severus wondered whom the boy was trying to fool, himself or everyone else.  Potter’s behavior in potions today had been uncharacteristically studious.  When he wasn’t working on the day’s potions assignment, he buried his head in his book, in a way more suited to Granger.  When he thought no one was looking, the boy’s face took on a closed, preoccupied expression.

Truth be told, Severus was beginning to become alarmed by the boy.

Everyone was stressed at the moment, true, but Potter’s behavior was just so...off.  Avoiding the Great Hall at meals and dodging his friends was not something Severus would have expected from the boy.

It had been quite the relief this morning, when the boy had become defiant over Quidditch.

Unwillingly, Severus had to consider Potter’s hidden heritage.  Lily went off her food when she was upset, certainly, but she wasn’t prone to this sort of shut down.   

No, Severus dismissed that.  Potter was suffering from grief and shock.  And given Petunia’s miserable failure providing a home, it was understandable that the boy would withdraw.

Yet another thing that was wearing Severus’ teeth to stubs.  Lily had adored Petunia, when they were children.  They had fought after Lily had been accepted to Hogwarts and they had been distant for years, but Albus had assured everyone that Petunia was at least willing, if not thrilled, to have her sister’s boy.

Of course, that might have had something to do with the two-thousand or so pounds a month Petunia received from Potter’s trust, Severus thought cynically.  When Severus had received the note from Gringott’s, yesterday afternoon, he had understood that much, right away.  The letter had named the sum of four hundred Galleons per month as support payment for the child.

Severus stood from his desk, pacing the length of his office.  He took a deep steadying breath, making a conscious effort to relax his jaw.

Potter was now two minutes late.  Severus would give him until ten after, and then he would go find the boy, who would find himself mopping floors all week.

At five minutes after the hour, a soft knock at the door.

“You’re late, Potter.” growled Severus as he opened the door.

The boy flinched a little, then narrowed his eyes and visibly steeled himself, “Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.” he gritted, hoarsely.

Severus moved aside and beckoned the boy in, “Well, come along then.” he said, impatiently, “Sit down.” he indicated the chair at the desk, “Do you still have potion I gave you?”

“Yes.” said Potter sullenly.  He pulled the potion out of his pocket and sat down, putting it on the desk.

“It won’t do you any good, sat there.” remarked Severus dryly.  He tapped his desk and the lunch he had instructed the house elves to make for himself and Potter appeared.

Potter shrugged.

“Just drink the damned thing, Potter.” snapped Severus, sitting down himself.

“Fine.” muttered the boy.  He uncorked the vial and tipped it down his throat, “Oh, that’s not so bad.” he mumbled, surprised, apparently to himself.

Severus suspected that, left to himself, the boy would never have taken the potion on his own.  One of the reasons for this little meeting.  Potter was more than underweight, according to the diagnostic charms Severus had done on Friday evening, he was positively malnourished.

The meal set before them was directed toward alleviating some of that.  Severus could give the boy potions to help with the deficiencies, but nothing took the place of real food,

Severus noted that Potter was waiting for him to start, before he served himself.   That was more manners than he really expected from the boy.  Perhaps, Granger had been giving him etiquette lessons.  Deftly, Severus filled a plate from the various dishes on the table and set it in front of Potter.

“Thank you, sir.” The boy said, very quietly, glancing at Severus through the messy fringe of his hair.   

Severus finished serving himself, and picked up his knife and fork.  Potter followed suit.

The potion really took hold, then.  Severus saw the boy’s shoulders drop, slowly relaxing.  In a very short time, Potter became completely engrossed in his meal.  Severus didn’t even bother to try to make conversation for a while. He wasn’t going to disturb the child, now that he was actually eating something.

Potter had nearly cleaned his plate, by the time his eating slowed down a little.   He was actually the first to speak, “Why did you want to see me?” he asked with the air of one trying to get the worst over with.

“As I said, we had an unfinished conversation, yesterday.” replied Severus evenly, “So we’ll start there.  Did you have any questions about this arrangement?”

The boy didn’t even look up from his plate, “No.” he made a sharp movement with his hand though, and his glass tipped.

Potter swore and caught the glass in mid fall, but the pumpkin juice inside went everywhere.  Including Severus’ lap, the desk, and the sleeve of Potter’s robe.

Without missing a beat, the potions master had his wand out and cleaned himself up with a simple cleaning spell.  He looked at Potter and was very glad that the potion had contained an anti-anxiety agent, otherwise the boy would be having another panic attack, judging by the look on his face.

“Sorry.” Potter whispered tensely, biting his lip.  He put down the glass, very quietly on the desk and laid his hands on either side of his plate, as if he were trying to prevent them from trembling.  He eyed Severus’ wand warily, as Severus cleaned up the surface of the desk.

When Severus pointed his wand at Potter to clean up the juice that had splashed the sleeve of the child’s school robes (since the boy had made no move to take out his own wand), Potter jerked back with a little gasp.

Severus raised his eyebrows at him.

Potter set his teeth and raised his chin, “Go on, then.” he hissed, defiantly, his green eyes flashing behind his glasses

Severus huffed to himself and cleaned the child’s sleeve.  Potter’s mouth dropped open and his cheeks turned red.  Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been that, “Erm...Thank you.” he mumbled, awkwardly.

“What were you expecting me to do?” Severus asked him, irritably.  He was trying not to snap at the child, but honestly, the boy was enough to make a saint swear.

The child shrugged, jerkily.  Put his hands into his lap.  Stared at them, “It’s just you usually go mad when I--when someone spills something.”

“Pumpkin juice does not explode, create poison gas, eat through the desk, catch on fire, or otherwise create a hazard.” Severus said harshly, “I have never had any severe injuries in my classroom and I wish to keep it that way.”  The last potions master had had several major accidents.  One of them during Severus’ N.E.W.T. seminar.  That was not something Severus ever wanted to witness again.  And he certainly would not have it in a classroom he was supervising.

“Oh.” the boy still looked down at his hands, his face now red to the ears.

“While we’re on the subject, “  growled Severus, trying to address the child’s unwarranted fear,  “You must realize that a teacher raising hand or wand to a student is against this school’s policies.”  

“Yes, I know.” the boy nearly whispered.  He raised his eyes to look at Severus, although he didn’t move his head.  He did not seem at all reassured.  Severus was getting damned tired of the child’s manner. This was not the Potter he was accustomed to.

“Well, moving on then.” sighed Severus, “I would appreciate if this arrangement were not mentioned to anyone.  I have no wish to be in the newspapers.”  The more quietly this could be taken care of, the happier Severus would be.

“Yes, sir.” said Potter, to his hands.

“I understand you’ve already mentioned it to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger.” Severus continued, “Please inform them that I prefer it go no further.”

That made Potter look up, properly, “How did you know?” his eyes were wide.

“I am not stupid.” replied Severus, coolly “Now, we should speak about practicalities.”

“Practicalities?” Potter asked, his eyes were narrowed again “What does that mean?”

“Your school robes need replacing, at the very least.” said Severus firmly.  The ones the boy was wearing, were at least an inch shorter in the sleeves than they should have been and rather threadbare.   They brought uncomfortable memories of wearing second hand robes to Severus’ mind, “And I imagine other things could do with it, as well.”

The boy glared at him, “I didn’t have a chance to do any shopping.” he said, flatly.

“Your Aunt didn’t take you?” asked Severus.  He shouldn’t be surprised, he thought,  “Why not?”  

Potter’s lips curled in contempt.  He crossed his arms across his chest and looked away.  “I always do it myself.”

“I see,”  Severus replied in a low voice, his ire at Petunia beginning to rise again.  “And when was the last time those glasses were replaced?”

“Replaced?” Potter said blankly, looking back at Severus, “I got them when I was eight.  The school nurse complained to Aunt Petunia that I couldn’t see.”

Severus was very glad he hadn’t had this conversation before he’d seen Petunia, “I’ll make an appointment with the oculist in Hogsmeade.” he said.

“Sorry?”  again that blank look, “But there’s no problem with my glasses.  I see just fine.”

“Those glasses are composed of little more than masking tape and spells.” Severus said, venomously, “It’s completely disgraceful.”  That the child had been denied something as basic as decent eyeglasses by those people made Severus’ stomach knot in anger.

The boy seemed to hug himself more tightly and looked away again.

“I believe everything you need can be obtained in Hogsmeade.” Severus said, “I’ll make your appointment for Saturday morning and we can accomplish it all, then.”

“I...uh...haven’t had a chance to visit my vault.” muttered Potter.

It took a second for Severus to understand what Potter meant, “That won’t be necessary.”  Severus said.

“But,” Potter, “I can pay for it.  My parents...”

“Arranged for your support before they died.” Severus said, firmly.  Not wanting to take charity was an impulse Severus could understand, very well,  “There’s no need to go into the central vault.  Gringott’s sends support funds along, monthly.”

“Are they sending it to you because you’re a Wizard?” asked Potter, he seemed to be struggling with something, “Is that why Aunt Petunia never got any money for looking after me?  Because Gringott’s couldn’t send it to a Muggle?”

Severus’ was unsure how to answer that.  He settled on part of the truth, “She did, in fact, receive funds for your care.  Gringott’s has no difficulty dealing in pounds.” he said carefully.

“No.” Potter started to shake his head, “No, she always told me...” he stopped suddenly, compressing his lips and looking upset.

“I think it’s safe to say that many things your Aunt told you are untrue.” said Severus.  He thought it was unwise just now to tell Potter just how much the support fund provided monthly.  It was quickly becoming apparent to Severus that the scruffiness that had always irritated him about the boy, ascribing it as he did to the vagaries of teenage fashion, had much more to do with his guardian’s neglect.

Potter’s mouth twisted and he shrugged, again.  

Severus glanced at his clock, almost sighing in relief when he saw that it was almost time for the next  class.  

He reached into his desk drawer and picked out another vial of potion, handing it to the boy, “Take this at dinner time and I’ll have some sent up to your dormitory for the next week.” he told him.

Potter nodded, stowing the vials in a pocket.

“I’ll let you know when we’re going to the oculist.” Severus stood, as did the boy.

Potter’s expression had become closed again, the way it had been in class this morning.  Normally, Potter was very easy to read, so Severus found this change, disquieting.  

“Yes.  Thank you, sir.” the boy said politely, as if he were talking to a complete stranger.  His voice was flat.  A moment ago, he had appeared ready to rage or weep.  Now, nothing.

Severus watched the boy walk off down the hall, not sure if this shutting down was a symptom of fear or grief, or something altogether more ominous.