Severus was standing outside the headmaster's office, wondering if he should really be doing this. Potter's last letter was troubling, to say the least, and he knew it
was time to show it to Dumbledore. He was not looking forward to the confrontation, as the old man would probably make him do something about it. And although Severus was willing to send formal letters to the boy, he definitely wasn't ready to do anything more personal.

But the door was opening, revealing the headmaster looking at him curiously. "Ah, Severus, I was wondering when you would enter. Thought perhaps the door was stuck." He grinned good-naturedly and stepped aside.

Severus entered the office, but cautiously. He wasn't ready to present this information. "I have something of importance that you should see." He looked down at the slightly crushed letters in his hand and, with sudden foreboding, he handed them to Dumbledore.

"Hmm? So you have been in contact with Harry."

"You know I have," Severus snapped. "Are you going to read them?"

Dumbledore waved at him calmly and sat down, carefully reading through the child's handwriting. Severus knew he should sit down, but he found himself resisting the urge to pace. He clutched the back of one of the chairs to steady himself. This was absurd.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

The headmaster took his time in replying, obviously rereading the letters over again. "This is…troubling," he finally intoned and Severus let out a sharp breath.

"Troubling? The boy is sleeping in a closet." He tried to keep his voice normal, but he knew Dumbledore could always see right through him.

"Most troubling then," he conceded and placed the letters carefully before him. "I am curious what you were replying to him with."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Dumbledore pretended to look nonchalant, but the younger man could see he was being toyed with. "Oh…just wondering. He seems awfully interested in you, especially in this first one."

Severus had forgotten that he included the first, entirely unhelpful, letter. "He is just a boy." It was the only thing he could think of.

"Indeed." He stared at Severus for a very long time and the other man felt more than uneasy from the gaze. "Well, I suppose some personal intervention is required." He stood up, folding the letters and placing them in his robes. He casually took out his timepiece, though Severus had no idea how he ever read the mysterious celestial markings. "Perhaps afternoon tea today with the Dursleys would be beneficial for everyone." He gave Severus a pointed look. "Don't you agree?"

Severus was frowning. "I support you in this endeavor. I, on the other hand, have classes to prepare for tomorrow. So if you will excuse me." He knew that leaving would only prompt the headmaster to call him back. He was not disappointed.

"Severus, you know I expect you to come with me."

He turned quickly. "Of course I do, but that doesn't mean I will bend to your every fancy. I have done enough dirty work for you in the past month. Now I must insist. Exams are approaching and there are plenty of first years waiting to explode my classroom any day now."

"You do realize the impracticality of my going alone. I may have the letters, but I was not the one to incite them." Severus refused to budge; he refused to be played by the headmaster. Both men stood at a standstill for several, silent moments, before Dumbledore finally broke it. "You have already come this far, Severus. It is not like you to give up on a task half-completed."

Severus really hated the old man at times.

-

Harry was dozing in his cupboard when someone knocked on the front door. He ignored it and tried to go back to sleep. It couldn't be ignored, though, when someone was knocking on his door. That shook Harry quite awake. Only Aunt Petunia would knock on his cupboard, and those were usually sharp knocks, followed by her orders for him to get out of bed.

This was a soft tap, and then; "Harry? Are you in there?"

Harry didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded like an old man's. He couldn't open the door; there was only a latch on the outside. The voice seemed to realize this and slowly opened the door.

"Ah, so you are. How are you today, Harry?"

A very old man with a very long beard and dressed in purple robes was looking into his cupboard. Harry was startled by his appearance and wondered if he was dreaming. No stranger had ever seen him in his cupboard; the Dursleys wouldn't allow it. Especially a man dressed in purple robes.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled. It was a very nice smile, Harry decided. "Oh, so rude of me. I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts. Sorry to disturb you, but would you mind joining us in the parlor? We have many things to talk about."

He moved out of the doorway as Harry stepped out, somewhat hesitantly. The old man was nice, but kind of scary. His name did sound a little familiar though. When Harry stepped into the hallway, he instantly smiled. "Snape!" he greeted excitedly.

The other man looked a little caught off-guard. "Professor," he quickly corrected.

Harry paused. "Professor," he repeated, suddenly feeling awkward. He had written the man letters, but he guessed that didn't make them friends yet. And Snape was also wearing black robes, which looked very strange on him. Dumbledore was still smiling at Harry and placed a hand on his back, steering him into the living room.

Aunt Petunia was there, her lips so tight that it looked like she might burst. Harry was glad that Uncle Vernon was out with Dudley. He would probably be already screaming and trying to throw the two men out of the house. It would take more to make Aunt Petunia that angry.

Dumbledore sat down in one of the chairs and made himself comfortable. He motioned for his aunt to sit as well, but Aunt Petunia refused to budge. She was glaring at the old man so much that her eyes were slits and her lips were a hard line. "Come now, let's all have some tea and a nice chat, yes?" But everyone was standing, staring at him. Harry looked at his aunt, who was still unmoving. He was surprised she hadn't said anything, but she looked almost too scared to. 

Harry finally took a seat at the couch. It wasn't very often he got to sit on it, mostly because the Dursleys didn't like his company, but also because Dudley would always shove him off. Dumbledore smiled widely at him and Harry couldn't help but smile back. Even if he was wearing purple robes, he was nice.

It seemed to promote everyone else to move too, though Aunt Petunia looked as rigid sitting as she was standing. Snape sat down next to Harry, though he looked kind of annoyed about it.

"Tea?" Dumbledore repeated and suddenly he pulled out a stick from his robes and made a flicking motion. Harry thought he was going to fall out of his chair when an entire tea-set appeared, complete with biscuits and scones. Aunt Petunia gave a soft scream and went very white.

"Whoa," Harry breathed, leaning closer, wondering if it was real. He thought he heard Snape scoff next to him. "How did you do that?"

"Don't ask him such freakish things. And don't you dare tell him anything either!" Aunt Petunia finally seemed to have gotten her voice back and Harry leaned back, feeling like he was in trouble. Dumbledore handed him a biscuit though. It tasted real.

The old man looked to his aunt. "Now Petunia, let's be reasonable. Would you like a cup?"

She was pale and her lips were pressed so hard together, they were white too. Dumbledore sighed and merely passed a cup to Snape, who was glaring at it intensely. Harry nibbled on his snack, suddenly wishing he was back in his cupboard.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Aunt Petunia. "Now, I mentioned briefly when you let us in-" She suddenly flushed, and Harry wondered if she had 'let them in' at all. "-that we have some things to discuss about Harry." He pulled out a few pieces of paper, holding them out to her.

"My letters!" Harry piped in automatically, he could see his handwriting.

Aunt Petunia turned her glare to him and didn't make any motion to take the letters from Dumbledore. He slowly retracted his hand. "Yes, well, my associate here, Professor Severus Snape, has been communicating with Harry. And some troubling issues have been revealed to us that we would like to talk about."

Harry looked at Snape, who was staring hard at his aunt. He had finished his tea, though. Aunt Petunia was still glaring at Harry, but her gaze suddenly shifted to Dumbledore. "He has been nothing but trouble, you know. I wouldn't believe anything in those letters. A compulsive liar! Gets in trouble at school all the time and never listens to Vernon and I." Her voice was shrill and Harry sunk in his seat as she stood up. "Unless you are going to take him off our hands, I would very much appreciate it if you would keep your nose out of our business!"

Dumbledore held up a hand to stop her tirade. "Please, Petunia, we merely want to be sure you are taking care of him to the best of your abilities."

"Taking care of him! What do you think we have been doing for the past seven years?! He refuses to obey any rule and doesn't learn from any punishment. It is seeing people like you that will mess him up. I will not let you turn him into a freak like you!" Dumbledore was trying to interrupt, but Aunt Petunia seemed to be in hysterics and Harry wished more than ever that he was back in his cupboard. "If you are going to come barging in here, demanding that I listen to you, then just take the boy! We never wanted him! So take him and leave us alone!" The front door opened and his aunt suddenly ran to the entry. "Vernon," she gasped.

It didn't take a second before there was a great roar and both Dumbledore and Snape were on their feet. Harry slid to the floor, but was suddenly yanked up. He looked and saw that Snape had him by the elbow, though the professor was watching Uncle Vernon enter the room

"What is this!? Who are you? Get out of my house!"

Dumbledore gave a pointed look to Snape and suddenly Harry was being pulled out the back door. He turned and saw Snape close the door securely behind him. Harry sank down on the back stoop and pressed his hands on his stomach, he suddenly didn't feel good.

There was a lot of yelling, though muffled by the door. "Is Dumbledore going to be alright?" He asked, looking up at Snape, who was glaring at the door.

He seemed startle by the question. "Professor Dumbledore," he corrected. "He is more than capable of handling your relations." He seemed to be deciding something, but he eventually sat down on the stoop next to Harry. That was better. Harry didn't like Snape hovering over him like that.

They were silent for a while and Harry could hear the shouting dying down, although occasionally it would rise again. "Are… are you going to take me away?" he whispered, looking at his shoes. They were Dudley's old pair and very worn at the toes.

"Do you want us to?" Snape questioned back.

Harry swallowed thickly. "No, not really." He remembered his aunt screaming about how she never wanted him. His stomach hurt and he felt like crying. He didn't want to cry in front of Snape, though. "I mean, they aren't nice all the time. But they gave me a bed and they gave me food for seven years."

"Do they tell you that?"

Harry looked at Snape, but the man was staring across the yard. He wasn't glaring anymore. "Yeah, they do," he whispered. "But they took me in when no one else wanted me. They said that if they didn't take me, then I would be starving on the streets." When Snape turned to him, Harry quickly looked away. "I don't want to go on the streets." It was awful when he ran away a few weeks ago. It was so cold at night and very scary. His cupboard was small, but it was safe.

They were silent again and every time Harry heard his uncle shout, he wanted cry. Snape didn't even seem to be breathing next to him and Harry suddenly felt very lonely.

"I used to wish that someone would take me away. When I was really little, I used to wish for it every night." He held his knees close to his chest. "But then I thought that someone else might not like me either. I used to be really good with my aunt and uncle. I did all my chores when they asked. I never complained whenever Dudley got birthday presents or Christmas presents and I didn't. But they still didn't like me, so I stopped trying." He let out a shuddering breath across his knees. "I guess I am too much trouble now. My uncle is going to throw me out on the s-street."

He was crying now and felt very ashamed. He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to stop, but it didn't help. He suddenly felt Snape prying his hands apart and a rough cloth being rubbed across his face. He looked at Snape, who was frowning, trying to rub his snot away with a handkerchief. But it wasn't the same glaring at before. Snape didn't look angry, just unhappy.

Harry found himself reaching out and burrowing his hands and face into dark robes of Snape's shoulder. His chest was hurting now, like it was bursting and he cried even harder. It seemed to last forever and then he felt Snape's hand resting on his shoulder. It felt large and warm and it made it all hurt less. Harry felt himself slowly stop into hiccups.

He heard the door open and he quickly looked up to see Dumbledore grinning down at him. "Ah, Harry, so sorry about all that." He knelt down and handed Harry a handkerchief. He took it, only because he wanted to hide his red face. "I've had a nice long chat with your aunt and uncle and we have arranged a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" That didn't sound like his aunt and uncle at all, but Dumbledore smiled widely and helped Harry to his feet.

The living room was empty when they came inside and Harry heard Snape follow behind him. "Where are the Dursleys?" The man asked.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "Oh, they have decided to take an early evening stroll around the block. We should be gone by the time they come back." Snape nodded with little expression.

Harry felt very exhausted. He suddenly just wanted to go to sleep. He was headed for his cupboard when Dumbledore gently led him up the stairs. Harry gave him a confused look, but didn't feel like correcting him. Harry had hardly ever gone upstairs, besides for when Aunt Petunia ordered him to have a bath.

But Dumbledore took him straight to Dudley's second bedroom. When he opened the door, Harry saw all of Dudley's broken toys lying about, but also his family tree and letters from Snape hanging just above the bed. "We all came to the conclusion that you are just a bit too big for your cupboard, Harry. So the Dursleys decided to give you your own bedroom." Harry doubted that, but Dumbledore was smiling at him. "I took the liberty of bringing your things up." He motioned to Harry's family tree and letters. He had hung up all of Snape's letters in his cupboard too.

"Thank you, Professor," he whispered, not quite sure if he should believe this. He walked to the bed, touching the sheets that seemed to have been freshly made. No, the Dursleys could never have done this, it must have been Dumbledore. He looked at the old man. "Can I really keep it?"

"Of course, Harry. No one will take it from you."

Harry looked at the paper on the wall, smiling. His own room, it did sound nice. He wanted to lie down on the bed, just to see if it was big enough to stretch out on. He had a window too. He suddenly turned to look at Dumbledore and Snape, who had been whispering to each other. "Are you leaving now?" He didn't want them to go and he walked back to them.

"Afraid we must," Dumbledore smiled sadly and Snape was frowning again. "Though I am sure Professor Snape will keep in contact with you." Harry looked to Snape, who was staring at the floor. "I know you must have many more things you would like to talk about and I'm sure he will be most willing to enlighten you. But for now, it is probably best you return to your afternoon nap. Your aunt and uncle will be back in time for dinner."

They both turned to leave and Harry found himself reaching out and grabbing Snape's sleeve. He let it go immediately, feeling embarrassed. "Are you coming back?" He didn't look up, now staring avidly at the floor. Dumbledore didn't answer, both of them waiting for Snape to speak.

"Perhaps." His voice was soft. Then, after a long hesitation, Harry felt a hand ghost the top of his hair. "Behave yourself."

And they both left.