Sunday morning, Harry found himself summoned to McGonagall's office. Wondering what the heck was going on, he arrived early and knocked on the door.

"Ahh, Harry, come in." McGonagall called, then gave him a faint smile when she saw how hesitant he looked. "You're not in trouble, Harry, not in the least. Severus just brought a few things to light that are going to need dealing with." Ire sparked in her eyes, but Harry knew it was all for the Dursleys, and not him.

"Now, he mentioned something about you not working to your full capacity in school, to avoid trouble with the Dursleys?"

Harry grimaced, but nodded. "I used to get whaled on if I brought back grades better than his. They even told the teachers I stole Dudley's homework, forcing him to scribble something a lot worse in order to at least have homework to turn in."

McGonagall's lips thinned angrily. "I see. So you probably had little to no chance to learn proper study techniques."

Harry shook his head.

"Well, we shall be remedying that lack over the next few weeks, Harry, and I shall be giving you instruction on a few other things that will make life easier for you ... such as how to wrangle a quill."

Harry blushed. His work the last week had been ... well, less than neat. Quills stumped him. "I really appreciate that, Professor." He said.

McGonagall gave him another small smile. "It's no trouble, lad. In all honesty, the sorts of things we'll be covering in these lessons are things you should have known before you came, but didn't get a chance to learn." Like who his family was. Severus had been only too pleased to dump the whole 'tell him about the Potters' issue in her lap. She couldn't blame him, given his history with James. She would tackle that, though, another time. Today, she intended to begin addressing the gaps in his education, a task both she and Severus intended to work on, in various ways.

They spent the rest of what quickly became a quite enjoyable day working together. Minerva quickly discovered that, given a bit of encouragement, Harry was every bit as industrious and diligent as Lily had been. He truly seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents. Minerva also discovered that giving a bit of explanation coupled with a step-by-step demonstration seemed to be the best way for Harry to catch on to something. At the very least, when she mentioned that you needed to mentally visualize the desired end-product to do a successful Transfiguration, and a gentle correction of his pronunciation of the spell, Harry went from struggling with the original homework (toothpicks into needles) to successfully transfiguring the matches with incredible speed and accuracy within an hour. The same occurred when she tried him on the first week's Charms lesson.

It also brought home the fact that Severus had been correct to have these lessons performed ... by the time they got to school, practically every wizarding child knew that you needed to visualize (accurately) to succeed in Transfiguration, no matter your power level. Such information was also included in the packets (and extra books) recommended to Muggleborns, which Harry hadn't had access to.

For his part, Harry was loving the lesson. Thanks to McGonagall's tips, things were making so much more sense, now! And Charms and Transfiguration (at least the first lessons, anyway) had gone from being nearly impossible to ridiculously easy. The essays, sadly, would be a pain in the arse, but at least the practical end looked to be simple enough, though he doubted that would last for long.

HPHPHP

Severus had burned the list as soon as he'd made it, of course. There was no way he was going to allow something like that to lay around, even in his own quarters. Still, it had helped to write things down. He'd then fire-called Minerva about teaching Harry the things he'd need to catch up.

He spent all of Sunday morning catching up on his marking, grimacing in disgust at the first-year essays. Why he insisted on doing that to himself, he really didn't know. Their handwriting (save a few Ravenclaws and the Granger girl) was uniformly awful. And that Granger girl seemed obsessed with displaying the breadth and totality of her knowledge. Her essay was a full foot longer than required, and went much further in depth than he'd asked for. He shook his head, and made a mental note to speak to her later. How she'd been sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw, he couldn't figure. Maybe the hat was getting senile? After all, Harry really ought to have ended up in Slytherin, given his home situation (he certainly exhibited Slytherin traits!). It made him wonder who else had been misplaced.

Almost as if the thought had summoned them, the twins arrived at his office door, looking unusually somber.

"Can we talk to you, sir?" Fred asked. Severus had learned to tell them apart, not so much by looks (as that was truly identical) as by demeanor (which was not). The two of them deliberately tried to keep people guessing as to who was who, but for someone like Severus, who had trained for years to notice the small things, the trick didn't work, and they'd long since stopped trying to confuse him, as part of the ... detente ... between them.

"Of course." He motioned them to the chairs in front of his desk, and closed (and warded) the door after they walked in. "I presume this is about Harry."

George nodded. "Yessir. Is it true? Did they ... " He trailed off. The expression on Snape's face enough to tell him it was, indeed, true. The twins looked at each other and nodded. "He's not going back, is he?"

"Most assuredly not, gentlemen." Snape told them. "He is, in point of fact, now under my protection."

That made the twins grin viciously. "Good." They chorused, before Fred continued. "If you would like any assistance in making his relatives' lives hell, sir, let us know. We'll be more than happy to help."

"I may indeed do so. At present, the Dursleys are rather far down on my list of priorities, as Harry himself needs seeing to, but once the immediate issues are taken care of, I fully intend to ... inform them as to their error."

"There's ... something else we wanted to talk to you about, sir. Something we noticed last week, but didn't really ... well, things are different now, aren't they?" George said. With evident reluctance, he brought an old, worn bunch of parchment out of a pocket. "We want this back."

Snape eyed the parchment with confusion, but nodded. "It will be returned to you." He promised.

George took a breath, pulled his wand, and tapped the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He said.

Severus watched in amazement as words became visible. He went rigid when he recognized the names, and glowered when a detailed map of the school rolled across the parchment. So *that* was how they'd done it!

"We snitched this from Filch first year." George admitted. "Been using it since. We've been using it to keep an eye on Ron and Harry, as well as for pranks, and we've seen someone on the map twice now that we don't recognize as a student, teacher, or ghost. Once, he was in Harry's dorm. A guy named Peter Pettigrew."

It took every bit of practice Snape had had over his life to keep himself from reacting to that name. Pettigrew? It couldn't be. Black had killed him! Blown him to smithereens! "Are you quite sure?" He was rather proud of how steady his voice was.

"As sure as we can be, sir." Fred confirmed.

Snape eyed the map. "I would like to keep the map for a time, gentlemen. It would perhaps be wise to see how it works. It's possible the name could be some sort of glitch."

"We kind of figured you'd want to take a look at it." Fred said, handing it over. "You heard the activation phrase. To shut it down, tap it and say 'Mischief Managed.'."

Snape nodded. "Thank you, gentlemen. It will be returned to you as soon as possible. Now, I believe the two of you had some brewing you wanted to do?"

That got them to grin, and they scurried towards the potions lab. "We sure do!" George tossed over his shoulder.

Severus watched them go, then eyed the map. So much for whether or not to get in contact with the wolf. If anyone knew what had gone into the map's creation, it would be him. He gave a disgusted sigh. He'd have to start on some wolfsbane. There was no way in hell he'd allow the wolf within ten miles of Harry without it, honorary uncle status be damned. He drew the map to him and studied it with interest. He did not spot Pettigrew's name, but that hardly surprised him. If the twins had seen it only twice in the last week, he was unlikely to spot it this quickly.

Could Pettigrew have become a ghost, and begun to haunt the school in response to Harry's arrival? It was not beyond the realm of possibility, but he didn't know if the map displayed ghosts. He took a closer look, examining the map for one area in particular, where a ghost was more or less guaranteed to be, and gave a pleased nod when Myrtle's name showed up. So it did, indeed, show ghosts. That could be the answer. Ghosts did travel, after all, so he could only be visiting now and again. Still, it bore investigation.

He tapped the map with his wand and gave the deactivation phrase with a sneer, then pocketed the thing before heading into the potions lab. He had work to do before he wrote the wolf.

HPHPHP

The next few days, Severus didn't see much of Harry. There'd only been one lesson with the first-year Gryffindors, on Monday. He had to stay with the sneering, vicious demeanor until the papers came through lest Lucius back out. Fortunately, Harry not only seemed to understand, but seemed to think it was hilarious, if the cheeky grin he'd gotten when Harry had walked in behind the Slytherins was any indication. Certainly, he'd played his 'part' to the hilt, glaring and grumbling at Snape as if he hated him. Only the amusement in Harry's eyes gave the game away, and Snape was fairly certain that none of the Slytherins caught it, or if they did, they mistook the look in Harry's eyes for something else entirely. Snape told him his detention was at eight on Wednesday.

Which meant that Harry would be here in a matter of minutes. Snape stared at the sheaf of parchment on his desk, both amused and somewhat alarmed that Lucius had been as good as his word. He wished he could see the faces of the people confronted with Dumbledore and Malfoy agreeing on something. It would have been highly amusing.

There was a knock, and Snape called for Harry to come in. Harry slid through the smallest crack possible and closed the door tightly behind him. Snape nodded his approval and set the wards (and a Muffliato, just to be on the safe side) before giving another nod.

"It's safe to speak plainly, Harry."

"Good!" Harry said, then let out a breath. "I didn't go too far Monday?"

"Not at all, though if your Slytherin agemates were a bit more practiced, they might have detected that we were 'playing'. You looked a bit too amused for it to be entirely serious." Severus told him. "Given time, you'll figure out how to keep them guessing."

Harry clambered into the chair in front of Severus' desk, and Severus sighed. "There is something we need to speak about." He said. "The Dursleys, as you know, are entirely inappropriate as guardians. Given who you are, it was necessary to move fast, and as quietly as humanly possible, to reassign your guardianship, lest someone like the Malfoys seize control of you."

And as was rapidly becoming self-evident, Harry was anything but slow on the uptake. "You're my new guardian?" He asked.

"Indeed. I realize you know next to nothing about me, but hopefully we can deal well together." Then, with a faint, pained smile. "I think your mother would approve." He *hoped*. "We were friends when we were children."

Harry's eyes widened. "You knew my mum?"

"Yes. We became good friends when we were eight or nine ... lived in the same neighborhood." Then, with an amused snort. "I was actually the one who told your mother about the wizarding world. Like yourself, I am a halfblood ... my mother married a muggle ... " And he wasn't going to touch THAT subject further until such time as it became necessary. He liked to avoid remembering his father whenever he had the choice. "So I knew what was going on when I caught your mother doing accidental magic."

Harry looked like he was a second or two from exploding with questions, but somehow settled for an almost-hesitant. "Will you tell me about her, sometime?"

"Of course, Harry. But for now ... " He handed over the guardianship papers. "These came this morning."

Harry took the parchments with an almost reverent air, then grinned like a madman as he read through and saw, black-and-white, the proof that the Dursleys no longer had any hold over him. It pleased him immensely. "Thank you so much, sir." He told Severus, then handed the papers back.

"You're more than welcome. I would like to ask if you want the Dursleys punished legally?" It was Harry's option, though no matter what, Severus would be paying them a visit to register the depths of his displeasure with Petunia.

Harry squirmed and bit his lip. "I don't know, sir. I guess ... well, I don't really want everyone finding out, and you know they would." He made a face. "And besides, I'm not going back, so what would be the point? They're there, I'm here, and I never have to see them again."

Severus had to admit that Harry had a point about people finding out. Harry being who he was, and the wizarding world being what it was, everyone and their uncle's cousin's second aunt would know all about it approximately twenty-four hours after charges were levied, regardless of whatever attempts at security and secrecy were made. Harry would never hear the end of it, and the gossip-mongers would make his life even more of a living hell than it promised to be anyway. "Very well." He allowed. "It is entirely your choice. At any rate, you have until you reach your majority to change your mind about the matter, should you wish to do so."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, sir."

"Now, I think we should perhaps go over some of the basics of potions-making while I have you in 'detention' tonight, so we should head into the lab." Severus said.

Harry bounced to his feet. "Ok!"