Tobias Snape had scarcely been a model father; he'd leave their tiny, terraced house at dawn, spend nine hours packing boxes upon boxes of nails, then head for the pub, only returning home once he'd drunk himself into happy oblivion. He'd had a lot to forget.

And even on high days and holidays, Tobias spent no more time at home; still he left at dawn, still he returned at midnight. It was only when Severus heard rumours of a 'fancy woman' that he'd followed his old man and found out the truth.

Eileen Prince had really made no sacrifice in marrying Tobias Snape; her parents,while disapproving of her choice to 'slum it' among the muggles, had loved Eileen enough to brazen out their only daughter's embarrassing alliance. The glittering career in potions had not been compromised, nor was the shabby little house uncomfortable; beyond the drab exterior and front parlour, magic and gallions had furbished up a comfortable home.

Tobias, on the other hand, had given up his job, his home, his entire way of life. As Severus sat on the leaf-bestrewn forest floor, listening to Tobias' low, sibilant voice whilst the flames of the camp-fire flickered across his father's angular face, sending his hooked nose into sharp relief and glittering life into those too-often empty black eyes. he entered a type of dream. A dream where horses feet beat against the everlasting road, drawing behind them creaking, ancient caravans, painted in sunset hues. Of fishing, the silver water soft and cool against your bare ankles, of the soft mouth of a foal brushing your fingers in search of a apple-bit, of sleeping under the velvet expanse of the sky.

And of magic; garlic cloves buried in jars on a Friday to break a spell of bad luck, a four leaf clover in a maiden's shoe when she went to meet her sweetheart and how you should always put a coin in a new wallet for luck.

Like his mother, Severus had sneered- albeit inwardly- at the hedge witchery; oh, yes, such simple spells could work- like the incantations, they served to focus the mind, but magic required power. You either had magic or you didn't- and no number of candles or herbs would change that!

However, divination... Severus knew that even squibs could be seers and when his father pulled a rather battered pack of cards from his waistcoat pocket, Severus was intrigued (even when the reading rather ridiculously revealed that he'd meet the love of his life, a bright-haired, strong-minded girl, within the next few weeks.)

“The Sight is in the very marrow of our bones, our Sev.” Tobias said firmly, looking deep into the sharp, sceptical dark eyes, peering out from his son's angular, pointed face. “Listen to your gut and you'll stay safe.”

And. for many years, Severus had taken heed of his instincts; they'd led him to a pretty little park, where he could sit amid the bushes and read unmolested, they'd encouraged him to talk to a girl who was so lovely she should have turned her nose up at him- and to try again when she rebuffed him due to his ill-considered words. Many an accident was avoided, many a sixpence came his way purely because he was in the right place, at the right time, to do a good deed.

Indeed, it was only after his induction to Slytherin that Severus began to ignore his gut, believing instinct to be based merely on irrational fear or, conversely, a false pattern which his brain had imbibed.

Later, when Severus learnt that the prophesy- which every instinct had screamed against it's disclosure- had placed a noose around Lily lovely neck, his arrogance dissolved. Severus listened to his inner voice, begged Voldemort to spare her, then threw himself on Dumbledore's mercy. Through the sarcastic indulgence of one and the wisdom of the other, Severus gained the woman he loved a reprieve.

In the first few months of his espionage, Severus would often smirk at how second sight- the gift of his muggle father- helped him subvert and deceive the twisted blood-supremacist he called Lord. The irony was delicious.

However, although Severus' instincts had led him back towards the light, he had, it turned out, resisted them for too long. Lily Potter was betrayed by her arrogant toe-rag of a husband's psychotic best friend. Why the man had trusted someone who, at the age of fifteen, had proven himself capable of murder was beyond Severus but, whatever Potter's reasoning, the fact remained that Sirius bloody Black had divulged the little family's whereabouts and, on the 31st of October, the Dark Lord entered the Potter household, murdered James, then turned his wand on Lily.

Harry Potter, Lily's infant son, had somehow survived, reflecting the killing curse back upon the Dark Lord. Quite how the baby had managed this was beyond even Severus' questing mind, but nevertheless, Voldemort's body had been destroyed and his soul sent to the deepest pit of hell. By Lily's son, the child who, Headmaster Dumbledore said, had her eyes. Exactly the same, in shape and colour. The only way Severus could make amends to the dead mother was to protect her living child.

Yes, Harry Potter had lived. For several hours. The next morning, Dumbledore had switched on the wireless to hear news of a dreadful gas explosion in Little Whining- an explosion which had demolished a house, killing the mother, father and child within.

A quick floo call to the ministry confirmed the ancient headmaster's worst nightmares; Dumbledore's lined face grew grey as he heard that, far from being an isolated incident, this attack was but the second in a series of reprisals for Voldemort's demise. Frank and Alice Longbottom had been tortured into insanity and their young son, Neville, was only barely alive. The group of Death-Eaters, it seemed, had then moved onto the Dursleys- the very people on whose doorstep Albus had left Harry a few hours earlier.

There had been nothing left of the Vernon, Petunia or Dudley Dursley and, as for Harry Potter, all that remained were a few blackened willow branches, flung into the scorched privet hedge. The Death Eaters had blasted the Moses basket so hard that it's scant remains had been thrown at least 20 meters.

Despite the Wizarding public's grief, they had In the main, been quick to support Albus' decision; Voldemort often took hostages and the very fact that the Dursleys remained unmolested- despite Petunia Dursley being Lily's sister- suggested strongly that their whereabouts remained unknown. Moreover, Albus had placed powerful blood wards around the property. They would only have failed if Petunia had rejected Harry and such a reaction could hardly be expected from the worst of women- at least in the opinion of the Daily Prophet.

Severus was one of the few who found it difficult to be charitable towards the old headmaster. Although he had hated the very idea of Harry Potter- the pollution of Lily's DNA by James Potter's poison- Severus had felt... cheated when he heard of the boy's death and very, very angry; Albus only had to ask and he'd have told him that it'd be better to throw Potter Jnr in with the Lions at Whipsnade than give him to that spiteful, vicious cow. Severus had grown up within streets of Petunia Evans, not to mention that, as Lily's confident, he'd been parley to all her spiteful behaviour. However, within the black clouds of anger, there was a tiny, bright spark of hope.

That spark had led Severus to this desk, where he was stuffing letters into envelopes and gazing, every so often, at the legendary Hogwarts quill. Dumbledore's forgetmenot blue eyes had actually teared up when Severus had volunteered for this duty, making the young Potions Master want to shove the man's cursed lemon drops up those quivering nostrils.

Abbot... Bones... Boot... Crabbe... Severus dragged his eyes away from the quill; it was ridiculous, not to mention as boring as watching water boil. Goyle... Granger... The Potions Master shook his head, displacing oily black locks. Padma Patil... Pavarti Patil... Severus bit his lip, shut his dark eyes. There was no reason for him to care about whether the Potter brat had lived. Lily was probably much happier to have her son with her, in the world of spirit. Besides, beholding those beautiful, pure eyes in the demon features of that malicious bastard...

“Harry Potter
Smallest bed,
Elijah Pidgley's Caravan,
Currently Nr. Haddenham”

Severus stood up, pushed his chair under the desk, picked up the envelope and walked calmly and quietly though the echoing corridors. Raising a hand- which did not tremble in the slightest- the young teacher knocked on Dumbledore's door.

“Come in”

“Headmaster I...”

“Oh my dear boy,” Albus murmured, rising to his feet. “My poor dear boy!”

Sweeping across the room, his tyrian robes hissing against the marble floor, Albus Dumbledore gathered a very surprised Severus Snape into his arms. Given that the old wizard was almost a foot taller than him and had bundled the slender young man up quite skilfully in his voluminous sleeves, Severus knew that struggling would only compromise his dignity further.

“Headmaster..!”

“Come, Severus, these tears are not beneath you. Indeed, they are proof of your strength”

Starting back, Severus stared up at Dumbledore, then slowly raised his calloused fingers to his cheek.

As a teenager, Severus had spent many hours carefully schooling his face into a blank mask, furnished with only such smirks, glares or grimaces as he manufactured. His body was completely under his control...

So why, then, did, saline gleam wetly on those potion-stained fingertips? Why were his hollow cheeks slick from silent tears which had fallen, unheeded, unnoticed and completely unrestrained.

Blank eyed, Severus looked into Albus Dumbledore's sorrowful, soft blue gaze and jerked the envelope free from the pocket of his black silk robes. “He's alive, Albus. Harry Potter is alive!”

Of course, it just had to be him....

Albus, bless his sugar-addled mind, had been quite insistent “But my dear boy! Who could possibly be more capable? I know you have friends amongst the Tinkers, I expect I'd make all kinds of faux pas if I were to go!"

Like calling Romanies 'Tinkers'. Was Albus really that old?

And despite all his protests that 'dear young Harry' was NOT his protégée (merely caring that the boy was alive did not equate to caring about him!), despite sneers, raised eyebrows and something which was definitely not a strop (whatever Minerva said) Severus found himself- a snowy owl in a large brass cage under one arm and a variety of shrunk sweets, toys and treats rattling around in his pockets- approaching a field in which a number of sleek, white caravans and several somewhat elderly cars, basked in the July sun.

Placing the owl cage under a tree and casting a quick 'notice me not' charm, Severus gazed regretfully at the site. It made a sad a change from the beautiful, vibrant vados and noble horses. Still, those damn things were draughty and, anyway, equids are generally spiteful, malicious creatures. Practically human, really.

As he lingered by the gate, a skinny young boy- all elbows, knees and a tangle of dark hair- raced past, a bouncing blur of black and white hot on his heels. The pup- a dalmatian- stumbled and the boy turned. Severus caught a flash of concerned, holly green eyes in a small, angular face.

“Come on, Morse. We'll be late for dinner!”

Severus' eyesbrows shot to his hairline “Morse?”

The boy looked up at him, green eyes squinting as he took in the tall professor's long black hair, black polo and wool trousers. Suddenly, the lad's face split into a cheeky grin “Yeah. Dot dot, dash dash. We're learnin' about the war an' stuff in school and th' teacher was talkin' about morse code an' Morse here deserved a better name than 'Spot', to my mind.”

Despite himself, Severus was impressed “I see. It's a good name.” he hesitated “May I ask, are you Harry Potter?”

The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously “I'm Harry Pidgely. You from the council?”

“No.”

“We've had trouble from the council” Harry muttered darkly, hugging Morse to his chest.

“Well, I am not from the council.” Severus reiterated “I would, however, like to talk to you, Harry, and your... Mr Elijah Pidgely.”

“Da? What you want with him? You're not from social services! He's a right good Da to me. I ain't going nowhere!” and with that, Harry took to his heels.

Bugger.

Setting off a brisk stride, Severus followed the fleeing boy through the maze of caravans, casting discrete 'point me' charms as he went. When he finally caught sight of Harry, the boy was jabbering away, arms frantically gesticulating, to a tall, slender man whose brown hair was bound back in a long ponytail. Morse frolicked around them, yapping loudly.

“Mr Pidgely, I am not from the Council or Social Services or any government agency whatsoever” Severus intoned, crossing his arms.

Panting, Harry looked up “Who are you, then?”

“Now Harry, that isn't a nice way to speak to a guest, is it?” Elijah said, looking the young boy with stern dark eyes.

“What's he doing here, then, if he ain't from the Council? He ain't one of us.” Harry muttered, studying his grubby, tattered trainers.

“My father grew up in a vado, Master Pidgely.”

Elijah strode over and offered a callused hand to Severus “I'm Elijah Pidgely, as no doubt you already know. I'm sorry for my lad's welcome; he ain't a bad boy but we've been moved on a couple of times an it's made him a bit hot, if you understand.”

“Indeed” Severus replied. “My name is Severus Snape and I have been sent here by my Headmaster...”

“You're still at school?” Harry guffawed.

“Don't be cheeky, lad.”

“Professor Severus Snape, Master Pidgely, I teach at a school. A school for people with special talents.”

“What sort of special talents would these be?” Elijah asked, his expression suddenly thoughtful.

Severus pulled the long, dark-wood wand from his sleeve.

Harry's jaw dropped.

“Yeah, a stick of wood.” Elijah said softly “I ain't saying nothing...”

“Accio owl-cage”

Harry shrieked in surprise as the big, brass cage screeched to a halt in front of him. Morse bumbled up and stuck his nose to the bars, before jerking back as the snowy owl snapped her yellow beak, golden eyes glaring.

The boy raised his wide green eyes, a smile tugging at his trembling lips “Da..?”

“Yeah son, we were right...”

“I suspect” Severus said softly “that there have been... unexplainable events..?”

Harry tugged a pack of battered cards from his pockets “I'm th' best, better than even Gramma Hines and she says so herself. I'm a natural an' there was tha' time tha' those busybodies turn up an' they couldn' see us or our caravans even though we see them as plain as the nose on your face an'... an'”

Severus nodded “Accidental magic is often spurred by strong emotions.”

“So where is this school? Is it near here? When do I start” Harry burbled happily.

Elijah put a hand on his son's shoulder “Slow down, lad. This is somethin' which needs to be sorted out indoors, you hear?” he turned to Severus “We've got some stew cookin', more than enough for three. You're welcome to join us.”

Severus nodded “Thank you.”

oOoOo

The tiny table was cramped and, combined with the rich, meaty scent of the stew and the warm body of a dog resting against his legs, Severus found himself relaxing.

The fact that Harry was too busy munching his way through what looked like a whole head of broccoli’s worth of florets to talk certainly augmented the tranquillity.

“I've been working in the fields.” Elijah explained “The manager always lets us take home a bit of whatever we've been picking.”

“I like broccoli” Harry grinned, dunking another floret into his stew. Elijah tapped the boy's knuckles with a fork and, grinning sheepishly, Harry took it and speared another piece of broccoli.

“It is good to see a child enjoying his vegetables” Severus said wryly “The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, is rather too wont to feed the children sweets and fried food.”

“Dumbledore? Oh that's such a cool name! Does he look like a bee? All short and fat and dressed in yellow and black stripy robes?”

As Elijah stifled a guffaw, Severus replied “Professor Dumbledore is actually rather tall and thin”

“Oh... What about the yellow and black robes?”

Severus had complete control of his features. That grin did not escape, it was just a trapped nerve in his lip “I believe I have seen him wear such a set.”

“Cool!”

Severus shook his head. The boy was cocky, yes, but it wasn't the cruel arrogance of James. In fact, it was more like Lily...

“So, this school of yours” Elijah started “It's clear Harry does have 'special talents' but how come you heard of him? We kept it quiet.”

Severus nodded “Elijah, I think it's best if I start at the beginning. Harry's parents, Lily Evans and James Potter were students at Hogwarts, they were in the same year as me...”

“My... parents?” Harry looked up “I knew my Mam was called Lily and my... my Mam's husband was called James but I never knew anything more...” the child swallowed suddenly, eyes overbright.

“Yes, Harry” Severus replied gently, heart tugged by the sight of those all-too-familiar green eyes. “I can... procure you some pictures if you so wish.”

“I never knew what they looked like” Harry muttered. Elijah placed his hand over Harry's.

“It said in the letter that his Mam and Da were killed by this Lord Voldemort bloke.” Elijah looked up at Severus “So they were magical folk?”

“Yes...” Severus paused “Harry was recorded as being magical on the registers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since the day of his birth. However, we believed for a long time that he had died in an explosion... his Aunt and Uncle's house was destroyed shortly after Harry was left in their care.”

Elijah flushed “Well, I'd like to have a word with whoever left him there! Frost on the ground and him left on their doorstep, with only a sleepsuit and a blanket to keep him warm! He'd have been out all night if I hadn't found him! And them Durselys... I know you shouldn't speak ill of the dead but they were a nasty lot. I got a right bad feeling in my bones.”

“Yeah, he cheated you, didn't he Da?” Harry chipped in, eyes flashing.

“Yeah” Elijah looked suddenly sheepish “It wasn't why I took Harry, though. I just went over to have it out with Dursley and then I saw this little one...”

“I ain't little!”

“An' I felt something bad about him. Not that he was bad, just like something bad was goin' to happen if I left him there. Of course, what with the gas explosion, I was right...”

“We are all very grateful that you did.”

“So this Voldemort, was he a wizard too?”

“We do not generally speak his name.”

“Who?” Harry asked, his bushy eyebrows knotting in befuddlement.

“Voldemort is spoken of as 'You-know-who' and 'He who must not be named'. He was a very dark wizard, not unlike Hitler in his views.” Severus explained, hoping Harry's apparent interest in history would enable him to understand.

“Wha'? He hated Jews an Romanies?”

“It is safe to say that there was little that the Dark Lord did not hate. However,  Wizards and witches born to non-magical parents bore the brunt of his hatred.” Severus replied.

“Is that why he went after Mam and James an' me?”

Severus frowned, hesitated. “It is one of the reasons.”

“Oh, what..?”

“Harry, I think you ain't ready to hear the rest. It was one of the reasons, okay?”

Severus nodded to Elijah gratefully “Your parents were very well respected and liked. They were prominent members of the movement against the Dark Lord.”

Harry stuffed another gravy soaked floret of broccoli in his mouth to stifle further questions.

“The owl is a gift from one of their friends, the Hogwarts groundskeeper. Hogwarts students are permitted an owl, a toad or a cat as a pet...”

“What about a dog?” Harry asked anxiously

“Don't interrupt, Harry” Elijah said sternly “He can take his pup, right? It was his birthday present.”

“I am sure something can be arranged.” Severus said faintly. “I have other presents from your parents' friends. Your actual birthday was the 31st July, although it seems that you have been celebrating it rather earlier?”

"We never had a time but Mother Hinds said he was born about Midsummer an, as I found him on All Hallows Eve, it felt right to celebrate his birthday then."

Harry, his mind on other, more pressing matters interrupted: “Are you going to make them appear like the owl?”

“I have them in my pocket” Harry's disappointed expression caused a smile to quirk at the corner of Severus' lips. “At the moment, they are shrunk.”

“Cool!”

“This magic business is dead useful, to my mind” Elijah said thoughtfully “It's a wonder that more people don't know of it.”

Severus nodded “I expect you are aware that the non-magical community is, on the whole, somewhat... distrustful of difference?”

“Being a 'Gypo' does give me some insight, yeah.” Elijah nodded, dark eyes hard. “An' Harry's had a bit of the same at some schools.”

“They said I stink cos I'm a gypsy.” Harry grumbled “But Da makes me wash every day! With soap too!”

“Children can be very cruel sometimes” Severus said quietly “As can adults. I am sure you've heard of the Witch Trials?”

“But you had magic, righ'?!” Elijah said, surprised.

“Just as the Witchfinders preyed upon elderly and friendless muggles, they sometimes caught an adolescent witch or wizard” Severus replied coolly “And even the Dark Lord would have fallen if fifty muggles attacked simultaneously”

“Simultaneously?”

“It means 'at once' Harry. The majority of hexes and curses can only be used on one person at a time.”

"Yeah, an' most spells take time to do, don' they?" Harry nodded. "So you lot went inta hiding?”

“Yes" Severus replied "the Statute of Secrecy makes it illegal for anyone to do magic in front of muggles or tell muggles about magic. It is also one of the reasons why it is illegal for underaged witches and wizards to do wanded magic outside Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or Hogsmede.”

“Aww!” Harry pouted “So I can't help Da?”

“So, this school. Whereabouts is it?” Elijah asked, deftly changing the subject.

“In the Scottish Highlands.”

Elijah whistled “Tha's a fair way away. It's boarding, I expect?”

“Yes” Severus replied “However, Hogwarts is self-sufficient; the land around it, including Hogsmeade belonged to the founders and, over time, it's rent value has increased considerably.”

“So it's free?”

“Yes,” Severus nodded “And there is a fund for the... less affluent students to buy their school uniform and supplies.”

“Now look, Sev'rus. Gifts are one thing but charity is another. Harry's been taught to graft for what he wants and if it means me workin' a couple of extra hours a day, then so be it but we don't want money.”

Respect gleamed in Severus' dark eyes “I see. Well, I am pleased to tell you that Harry would not qualify in any case. He has a Trust fund at Gringotts, that's the Wizarding Bank; I believe that £50 galleons a year will be deposited every year whilst he is at Hogwarts.”

“Galleons?”

“Wizarding money. Each Galleon is worth around £5.”

Harry's green eyes widened, then he grinned “We're rich!”

“You're rich, lad” Elijah nodded, smiling. “Tha' money was left for you by your parents to see you through your schooling so no wastin' it mind. An' no tellin' anyone abou' it. Outside of business, talkin' on money's common.”

“Righ' Da!”

“So, Hogwarts is a boardin' school? Do you have any day kids?”

Severus sharp black eyes softened “No. We have found, over the years, that if a child from Hogsmead or, at the extreme, a child whose parents are professors and who, therefore, lives in the castle, does not share a dormitory with their house mates, they inevitably become something of an outsider.”

“So, you mean I'd be away from Da for the whole year?” Harry asked, his face stricken.

“You may return at Easter and Christmas.” Severus said gently “Not to mention the very fine snowy owl with which Hagrid has gifted you will glady deliver messages from you to your father and vice versa.”

Harry chewed his lip, eyes downcast. Severus was forcibly reminded of another green-eyed child who sat in such an attitude as she contemplated months apart from her parents and beloved sister.

“So” Elijah said in a tone of forced brightness “Tell me about this House system?”

“There are four Houses, each named after one of the Founders; Ravenclaw, named for Rowena Ravenclaw. Her symbol was the eagle and the livery she chose was blue and bronze. Slytherin, my House, was named after Salazar Slytherin, whose mascot was the snake and whose colours were silver and green...”

“I like snakes” Harry said brightly. He flashed a quick, questioning glance at his father “Anonespoketomeonce!”

“A snake spoke to you?” Severus asked, having spent a busy second sorting out the sentence in his head. (It was a talent particularly important in Potions)

“Yeah, it asked me for a rat I found in one of our traps. I was takin' it out to throw it in th' forest for the beasts an' I heard this hissing voice sayin' it's belly ached and tha' it wanted my rat!”

“It is a very rare gift” Severus murmured. This boy was nothing like he had expected. “Now, the next house is Hufflepuff, named for Helga Hufflepuff whose symbol was the badger and whose colours were black and yellow.”

Harry grinned “Was Dumbledore..?”

“I believe he was a Slytherin actually.”

“Aww!”

“And then we have Gryffindor, named for Godric Griffindor whose colours were red and gold and whose totem animal was the lion. Your parents were both Gryffindors.”

“Cool” Harry enthused “So, do you get to go where your parents went or do you choose or what?”

“Children are placed into Houses according to personality, although if a child is particularly adamant, the Hat will place them into the house of their choice.”

“Hat?”

“Yes, there is a magical hat. It was Godric Gryffindors but tests have revealed the spell work to be Slytherins.”

“Cool! So what are these houses like?”

“A simple and, therefore, wholly inaccurate answer would be that Gryffindor is for bravery and honour, Slytherin is for cunning and ambition, Hufflepuff for hard-work and charity and Ravenclaw for intelligence and academic prowess.”

Elijah grinned “Yes, I can see the problem there.”

“Huh?”

“Think abou' it Harry, you can't have ambition without bravery an' cunnin' is akin to intelligence.”

“Oh!”

“Yes, it's more of a matter of mindset.” Severus replied “The best thing to do is just to allow the Sorting hat a free reign. All houses have their merits and all houses have their drawbacks. All Houses have had their dark wizards, too. Not to mention their heroes, though a true Slytherin would balk at the term and many a Hufflepuff would dissemble.”

“De...”

“It means modestly disagree” Severus sighed inwardly; it was always difficult to get used to winding back his vocabulary.

“So, what sort of things does Harry need to you to this school of yours? A uniform I expect an' books an' suchlike?”

“I have the list here” Severus replied, the letter out of his trouser pocket. As the meal was finished, he also dug out the little gifts and, with a wave of his wand, unshrunk them.

“Wow!” Harry gasped “I'm dead popular!”

Severus nodded “The notes will tell you what is from whom.”

“Don' worry, Harry knows to write thank you letters.” Elijah said sternly.

“But I gotta play with 'em first so I know what to write.”

“I think Slytherin's a fair bet” Elijah commented, winking at Severus.

“Indeed” Severus looked out at the darkening sky. “I think that it might be best if I return some other day to escort you Diagon Alley, it appears we have spoken for rather longer than I anticipated.”

“Well, I'm not in the fields tomorrow if that's good for you?”

As Severus walked out into the warm, summers evening, he wondered just how he could explain to Dumbledore that he'd volunteered his services for a second day without evoking that damn twinkle.

Managing to convince the old git that his request to allow Harry both a dog and an owl was down to anything other than partiality would be nigh on impossible.

Bugger.