On a pleasantly bright and sunny Sunday, Severus was having a rather good morning before Potter’s owl swooped into his sitting room. Again.

The owl (Hedwig, he reminded himself) was looking rather agitated.

“Come now, surely Potter couldn’t have gotten into that much trouble overnight!” Snape groaned as he folded up that morning’s Daily Prophet.

Hedwig merely hooted at him dolefully.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; the boy is a Potter, after all,” Snape grumbled. “Can it wait until I’ve finished my tea?”

He summoned said tea to him along with a few owl treats. The owl accepted the snack, albeit begrudgingly. She seemed to pierce him with her gaze, eyeing him accusingly as she munched on the treats.

“Oh, very well, then. Let us go see what Potter has managed to do in the…” Severus checked his watch. “... ten hours since I left him.” Severus went to the door and took a jacket out of the entry closet. After he put it on, Hedwig perched on his shoulder and together they left. Part of him was astounded at the familiarity the bird was showing him. He’d never owned an owl before; as a student he couldn’t afford one, and since then he’d simply never considered it.

Perhaps I should, he thought.

Severus needed little prompting from Hedwig this time; whereas last time he had been a victim of the owl’s fancies, this time he knew where they were going. As he walked, he couldn’t help but think of the events that had transpired after the shocking revelation he had received. After making sure the Chosen One was indeed safe, Snape had parted ways with the owl and Apparated straight to Hogwarts, Once there, he’d gone right to Dumbledore’s office. As usual, the Headmaster seemed to be expecting him. Severus had long suspected that the portraits all over the castle told the headmaster what was going on.

“Ah, Severus. I didn’t think we’d hear from you so soon. Come in, my boy, come in.” Dumbledore was putting on his kindly grandfather routine, complete with the tin of lemon drops. After waving his hand in customary refusal for refreshments, Severus got right to the point.

“I found him, Albus. I found Potter.”

That certainly got the older wizard’s attention. “Indeed? I knew my faith in you was not misplaced. Well done, my boy.”

“Perhaps I should reiterate. It is incorrect to say that I found Potter when I was led right to the boy by his very own owl.”

“Did she? Hedwig certainly is a clever owl,” Dumbledore mused, sipping his tea. “If I may ask, Severus, where did you find our wayward Mr. Potter?”

“At the old Evans house.”

 Severus shook himself from his memory when he came upon the house in question. After doing a quick Disillusionment spell to conceal both himself and his passenger, he got closer. Hedwig was decidedly less agitated now, presumably under the assumption that he would find and fix whatever bothered her. Severus mentally cursed annoying and intelligent birds as he walked right up to the windows to observe the goings-on.

The sitting room window was closest, and so it was that one that he peered through first. Nothing of note there, just the telly left on. So Severus moved to the large window on the other side of the front door, which looked into the kitchen. There was the activity he was looking for. Three family members were inside, and Severus quickly labelled them as the Dursleys. There was no trace of destroyed pudding left over from the night before, and he briefly wondered who had cleaned it up. Frowning, Severus looked for the fourth occupant of the house, but came up with nothing.

The spoiled Potter brat must be having a lie-in, Snape sneered. After determining that Potter wouldn’t be downstairs any time soon, Severus backed away from the kitchen window and walked around the side of the house. The sturdy old oak tree was still there, and brought back fond memories of Lily. Hedwig suddenly took off from his shoulder and flew up into the branches. She landed just outside the window to Lily’s old room, and it was then that Severus came to a halt.

Who the hell put bars on the window?! Severus thought. They hadn’t been there last night, surely! Some muggles liked to put bars on the outsides of windows for extra security, but none of the other windows were adorned thus. A nagging feeling overcame him, and Severus thought that if he had to guess, that room now belonged to Potter. He’d put Galleons on it.

Sure enough, the window opened and a thin arm threaded through the bars to pet Hedwig.

“Hey, girl.” Came a soft voice, and Severus had trouble connecting it to the usual brash Gryffindor speech he usually heard.

“I’m glad you got out before they could lock you in here with me. I hope you found a safe place to stay.” Hedwig hooted and butted the hand petting her with her head, making the child laugh. As Potter continued to pet his demanding owl, said creature swiveled her head and stared right at Severus through his Disillusionment Charm.

“Message received,” he grumbled.

Just then, the great oaf of an uncle bellowed something and Potter left his spot at the window. Severus went back to the windows he observed the Dursleys through before. In the sitting room, the rotund pink-faced Dursley child was parked in front of the telly. Severus wished the boy was one of his students just so he could dock points for wasting time. The overlarge boy desperately needed some sort of activity to get him off his arse.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of more errant thoughts, Severus peered through the kitchen window again. Potter just entered the room, and was apparently being told off. Petunia either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and continued to sip her tea as she read a gossip rag. Dursley made a dramatic gesture, and Severus carefully noted the Potter boy’s flinch. Once Dursley was done, he left the room after grabbing that day’s newspaper from the breakfast table. Potter said nothing, and instead picked up the forgotten breakfast dishes and started to wash them. All of this was done with eyes carefully cast down and with drooping shoulders. Severus was proud of his ability to read people, but wanted to second guess himself when it looked like Potter was used to this sort of treatment. There was a nasty blue and purple bruise on his neck and shoulder where Severus had noticed a red spot the night before.

At the moment, Severus had more questions than he ever wanted to have about the Potter brat. After backing away from the window, Severus went back around the side of the house to unnecessarily confirm that there were bars over the window.

What the hell is going on here?

Though he made no secret of his dislike for the boy, Severus had made a promise to protect him. If these muggles decided to put bars on the boy’s window, there was no telling what else they might do. The words ‘Harrys Room’ written on the wall of the cupboard in the Privet Drive house came to mind again, and once again Severus brushed them aside. He could think about that more later, but right now it was best to let Dumbledore know about the current issue.

After Apparating to the front gates of Hogwarts, Severus removed the Disillusionment charm from his person and made his way up to the castle. Hagrid waved a merry greeting at him from the garden next to his hut. Apparently, Hagrid wasn’t expecting a greeting in return, because he went right back to tending his seedlings. Just as well, because Severus did not make a habit of waving his arms frantically at people.

When Severus entered the castle, the first person he saw was Minerva, who stopped heading in whatever direction she had been going in to walk alongside him.

“Severus, what a pleasure to see you here! I thought for sure we’d seen the last of you. Why, I was just on my way to consult Sybill to see if you’d died horribly,” Her tone was decidedly smug.

“As you can see, I am still among the living, regrettably,” He drawled. Minerva’s lips twitched, and she shot him a look that would have been stern if not for the telltale twinkle in her eyes.

“It’s just that after you left in such a dramatic fashion, I really thought you’d be holed up in your home for the rest of the summer holiday.”

“If only that were the case. Right now I have news for the Headmaster, so if you’ll excuse me…?”

“Of course, Severus,” Minerva replied fondly, and the two of them parted ways. When he approached the statue that guarded the Headmaster’s Office, Severus paused only to say the password; “Bonbons.”

The stone gargoyle jumped aside, and Severus rode up the moving spiral stairs. All too soon, he was staring at the ancient, heavy oak door that heralded the entrance to Dumbledore’s office.

“Come in, Severus,” Dumbledore called before he’d even had a chance to knock. Upon entering, Severus was unsurprised to find the Headmaster sitting behind his desk with a pot of tea and his tin of lemon drops at the ready.

Does the man consume anything else? Severus thought dourly.

“Good day, Severus. Can I interest you in a cup of tea? Perhaps a lemon drop?”

“No thank you, Headmaster,” he refused, just like he always did. Somehow, this had become a custom of theirs, and Severus wasn’t sure what he’d do if the day came when Dumbledore didn’t offer him refreshment. As he usually did, Severus settled himself down in one of the overstuffed chairs across from Albus.

“After you came bursting through my office door the last time, I must say I didn’t expect to see you again until the start of term,” Dumbledore hummed, popping a lemon drop in his mouth.

“Minerva said much the same thing,” replied Severus with some amusement and more than a little frustration. “However, I have more news of Mr. Potter that I felt was best addressed in person instead of by owl.”

“Of course, of course. Nothing is wrong, I hope?”

“I… cannot say for certain,” Severus stalled.

“Indeed?” Dumbledore asked, looking interested. Nodding, Severus continued.

“This morning I found myself host to Potter’s owl again. At her request I went to the Evans house and found something rather unusual.” Severus paused for a moment then ploughed on ahead, “There were bars over the boy’s window.”

“The Dursleys must have put them there for the boy’s protection, Severus. From what I hear the practice is not uncommon.”

“No, but what is uncommon is that they installed the bars over Lil- Potter’s bedroom window and none other. Those muggles bear watching.”

Looking troubled, Albus seemed to think on this for a while. Severus sat quietly and waited for his mentor to puzzle out whatever argument he was having with himself. Another person might have asked questions or otherwise interrupted, but Severus was loath to disrupt the thought processes of a brilliant mind such as Dumbledore’s. It would be rude, in any case.

“Did you happen to observe any troublesome behavior by Harry’s relatives?” Albus asked suddenly.

“I did not, though admittedly I did not stay with them for long. Petunia is much the same as she was when we were young, but I cannot speak about the characters of her husband and son.”

“Of course, of course,” the old wizard murmured, sounding troubled. “If I may ask yet another favor of you, Severus- would you investigate them?”

“It was my intention to do so.”

“Why, Severus, it sounds as if you’re beginning to care for the boy.” Albus’ eyes twinkled at him maddeningly from behind those half-moon spectacles.

“Care for the Potter brat!” Snape ejaculated. “Are you daft, Albus? I’m as likely to care for that sprog of James as Remus Lupin is to stop being a werewolf! I made a promise and I intend to keep it- and that’s the end of it!” With a huff and a great swish of his black robes, Severus made to leave.

“Severus.”

When he turned around to look at the Headmaster, Severus found himself pinned under a piercing gaze.

“Please try to remember that Harry is Lily’s son, too.”

The Potions Master simply left without another word.

 After the unexpectedly disruptive morning, Severus had every intention of retreating to his lab to brew potions. At the moment, it was less to fill Pomfrey's orders and more to do with avoiding all the unwanted questions that had been forming ever since Privet Drive was discovered empty. The fact that the potions he produced would make Poppy happy was just a bonus. Hedwig was sleeping in his sitting room when he Flooed in, but he spared her barely a glance before donning his brewing robes and descending into his lab.

There were two more weeks until the start of term, and in that time Severus established a routine in order to get his potions done and keep an eye on the Potter brat. In the mornings, after his usual breakfast tea, he would brew Potions until some time in the afternoon. The actual time he stopped to take a break would vary, depending on what he was brewing. After a break for sustenance, Severus would either finish the Daily Prophet or read one of his many books. When he felt it couldn’t be avoided any longer, he’d go to the old Evan’s house and stand as a silent and invisible sentinel, keeping watch on Potter.

The first two days of his vigil, nothing of particular consequence happened. If Potter wasn’t tending the garden or doing other chores, he was kept in his room. Hedwig would often spend the day sleeping in the oak tree just outside the boy’s window. Part of Severus wished he was an animagus so that he could get a closer look when Potter was stuck behind bars. He hoped that the boy had enough sense to do his summer homework while he was stuck up there.

After dinner, Severus had mostly free evenings. Since all the exam grading had to be done early on in the holidays so that the scores could be delivered to the students in a timely manner, he had very few professorial duties to attend to. He definitely did not envy Minerva, who would be working overtime to get all the Hogwarts Letters owled in time before the new semester. Not only that, but often she had to visit the homes of muggleborns to explain the letters sent out to all the prospective new Hogwarts students.

As it was, Severus had mostly free evenings. He would supervise Potter from afar for a while, then retreat to a pot of tea, biscuits, and good reading material. Hedwig always stayed with her wizard for a while, then joined Severus where he would idly stoke her feathers as he read. When it was time for him to retire in the evening, the snowy owl left again, presumably to go hunting.

On Wednesday was tea with the Malfoys.  Since he’d be busy in the afternoon, Severus spent part of the morning watching Potter instead. It was the same as the previous two days. Potter was kept in his room, let out once in the two hours that the Potions Master watched. After a very uneventful morning, he retreated to Spinner’s End.

There was some time for him to work yet, so Severus set a timer with a wave of his wand and started on a large batch of Blood-Replenishing potions. It would need to simmer for several hours, which it could do while he was away at Malfoy Manor. At quarter to three, Severus adjusted the heat under the cauldrons before getting ready for tea with the Malfoys. He chose to wear lighter summer robes, though they were still his trademark black color. They certainly weren’t top quality, but trying to show up a Malfoy was a fool’s errand. Severus didn’t really give a damn about what he wore, anyway. After making sure his house was securely warded against intruders, he Flooed to Malfoy Manor.

The resplendent green flames deposited him into the Floo Room of the opulent Malfoy estate. Most Purebloods with large ancestral homes like the Malfoys had special reception rooms for guests who travelled by Floo. This ensured that guests could have a moment of privacy to brush off soot and rearrange themselves before seeing their host. During the summer, Floo Rooms were the only rooms that kept a fire burning. From the looks of it, Narcissa had seen fit to redecorate. The room was swathed in light browns and other non offensive earth tones. A rich, thick, and expensive Persian rug covered the equally expensive marble floors. Most of the rugs in the Manor were of the same make, delicate patterns and bold colors all weaved in the most expensive silks. They were protected by a multitude of charms, of course. The fact that they were on the floor at all instead of hanging on the walls was simply another testament to the wealth of the Malfoys.

One of the many Malfoy House-Elves popped in just then, taking Severus’ cloak before leading him to the formal sitting room. This room was again different from the last time he’d been to the Manor. It was now decorated in a range of blues with cream and gold accents. On the floor was another silk Persian rug. Narcissa was waiting for him when they arrived, and stood up to greet him with a chaste kiss on the cheek. She was dressed in lavish grey robes that were light and airy and cut to fit her perfectly. The house-elf disappeared to wherever it was needed.

“It’s good to see you again, Severus,” Narcissa smiled warmly at him in the manner of a perfect hostess. It was a mask she wore well, and one could almost never tell if she truly enjoyed her guests or not. Severus rather thought that her feelings were always genuine when it came to him, though. After all, he’d known her and her husband for over twenty years.

“Always a pleasure, Narcissa,” he intoned back, projecting no small measure of fondness in his voice. He bent at the waist and kissed her hand, as was proper. She smiled demurely at him, then led him to a settee and chairs where they both sat.

“My husband will be with us shortly,” she told him.

“And Draco?”

“Here, Professor,” came the young boy’s voice from the doorway. The two adults watched as the Malfoy heir came into the room with as much grace as a twelve-year-old boy could achieve and sat on the couch next to his mother.

“Good day, Professor Snape. Have you been enjoying your holiday?” Draco asked, making polite small talk while they all waited for the Lord of the house.

“I have, Draco. Thank you. However, I’m sure your holiday has been far more interesting.” The professor eyed his student critically. It seemed that in the weeks since the end of semester, Draco had grown half a foot. In actuality, it was probably a mere inch or two, but children always seemed to grow like weeds. Except Potter, his mind supplied. He swore the boy was actually shrinking instead. Mentally frowning, he turned his attention back to the young Malfoy heir, who was getting ready to start regaling them all with tales of his summer exploits.

“Ah, Severus, how good it is to see you again,” Lucius Malfoy’s debonair voice interrupted his son before the boy could even start. “I do apologize for the delay. I had some… business… to attend to.”

“Of course,” Severus replied neutrally, standing up to clasp the Lord Malfoy’s forearm instead of shaking his hand. Purebloods, particularly men, often preferred to clasp forearms in a gesture of brotherhood or camaraderie in honor of fighting together in the past. If one knew to look, it was an easy way to identify a Death Eater. After greeting his wife and son with warm smiles (or as warm as Lucius ever got), he sat down in the chair that was between Severus’ chair and Narcissa’s end of the settee.

“I’m glad I finally got you out of that potions lab of yours, Severus,” Lucius began the conversation amicably. In the meantime, Narcissa called for a House-Elf and was busying herself with the tea service the elf provided.

“After spending ten months running after hundreds of dunderheaded students, I rather thought I deserved some time alone with my potions,” Severus replied.

“Of course, but your friends do like to see you every now and again,” the Lord Malfoy chuckled.

“Friends? I wasn’t aware I had any,” Severus remarked. It was mostly true, but if Lucius thought it was banter, all the better. After all, the best deception was entrenched in truth. Narcissa offered a cup of tea to him, and he took it graciously.

“Come now, Severus. We’ve known each other too long for words like that.”

“Perhaps I said it because we’ve known each other for so long,” the Potions Master snarked back, taking a sip of tea. The Lady Malfoy was now serving tea to her husband and son.

“That’s enough now, boys,” Narcissa chided good-naturedly. She put the pot back on the tea service and distributed biscuits.

“Of course, dear,” Lucius said, gracefully steering the conversation. Severus resigned himself to shallow and uninteresting small talk. This polite invitation to tea was just another mask of the Malfoys. Sooner or later, Lucius would take him aside and talk about the true reason for this visit. For now, though, it was all relatively inoffensive chatter accompanied with sweets and tea.

“I received an owl this morning by the Director of the Board of Governors this morning,” Lucius started, “Dumbledore is again pushing for more Board funding. Honestly, if the little half-bloods and mudbloods can’t afford top-notch Potions ingredients they shouldn’t be attending at all! No offense, Severus.”

“None taken, Lucius. The finer quality would simply be wasted on them.”

Relatively inoffensive, indeed. Severus had been trying to push the necessity of better quality potions kits for the students for years.

“Of course I mean to fight it, and the rest of the Board will follow my lead. Once we get rid of that meddling fool and replace him with a more qualified Headmaster, we’ll reconsider.”

Good luck, Severus thought dryly. Influential the Malfoys may be, but Dumbledore still held the hearts of the ordinary witch and wizard. Removing Dumbledore from the Headmaster position was still too ambitious yet. With luck, Albus would stay there at least until all danger of the Dark Lord passed.

Draco, who had been quiet in the conversation as expected of him, chimed in now. It was no secret that the boy wanted to be Slytherin’s Seeker, and apparently it would happen through sheer force and daddy’s purse-strings. Severus cared for Draco, he really did, but sometimes he wondered if the hat placed the boy in the wrong house.

“Father, may I show my independent projects to Professor Snape now?” the young Malfoy heir pleaded.

“Of course you may, son. You are excused,” Lucius said. As Severus made to stand up and follow Draco out of the room, Lucius called him back.

“Severus, if you would meet me in my study afterwards, I’d be much appreciative.”

As the two of them set off for Draco’s rooms, Severus decided to strike up a conversation with the only being in the Manor who was likely to be unguarded around him.

“So what’s this I hear about independent projects?” He asked, and Draco visibly hesitated.

“Father wasn’t too happy when he got my test scores from last semester. They weren’t bad, but that Mudblood Granger got top scores in everything,” the blond ground out, frustrated. “I mean, I got top scores in Potions and Transfiguration, but Granger got perfect scores. On everything. I’ve been learning about wizarding history my entire life and I still missed a few of the finer points in Binn’s exam.”

“You’re not the only one, I promise,” Severus replied. It was a widely-accepted fact that no one took History of Magic seriously. Well, almost.

“That’s not the point!” Draco insisted as they drew near to the hallway that contained the entrance to his rooms. “She’s just a filthy little Mudblood, and she did better than me. Me, a Malfoy! Malfoys are supposed to be the best!” The child was working himself up into a frenzy and needed to be soothed before he had a full-blown fit.

“Draco,” the professor said calmly, turning the child to face him by placing a hand on his shoulder. He then knelt so they could talk face-to-face.

“I understand that you’re frustrated, but you must listen to me. Miss Granger is a talented witch, especially considering her upbringing. However, you must not compare yourself to her and treat your own achievements so harshly. Granger is a competent brewer, but for all her precision, she lacks the ability to think outside the cauldron. Part of being a master Potions brewer is the ability to create without restriction, and she simply lacks the inspiration. You, on the other hand… well, weren’t you about to show me your own independent projects?”

Draco offered a tentative smile, and Severus rewarded him with a rare smile of his own. “Come, enough about your classmates. I’m interested to know what you’ve learned.”

“Yes, Professor!” Draco exclaimed, and resumed his original task.

Roughly an hour later, the Potions Master was stalking through the dark halls of Malfoy Manor towards Lucius’ study. After the emotional outburst, Draco had quickly livened up and proudly showed his favorite professor the projects he’d done over the summer. There weren’t any groundbreaking findings, but Draco was still young and had yet to delve into the deeper aspects of Potion-Brewing. All the same, Severus was proud of the young Malfoy’s ambition and desire to explore. In time, he could prove to be an innovative Potions Master if he chose. Truthfully, Draco wouldn’t have to work a day in his life. Lucius certainly never entertained the idea. As far as the Lord Malfoy was concerned, sitting on his gold and meddling around in politics were all he should be accounted for. And if he did some Death Eater activities on the side? Well, it was only what he deserved. Shaking that thread of thought before it dredged up too many unpleasant thoughts, Severus knocked on the door to Lucius’ study.

After being called in, he opened the door to the largest and most grand study in the Manor. The walls, where they weren’t covered in black wood bookcases, were a deep and handsome green. The floor was marble like most of the public spaces in the Manor were. On the floor was yet another rich Persian rug, this one in deep greens and other dark earth colors. All the furniture was made of black wood and smooth black leather. The hearth on the wall closest to the door was unlit, which was not uncommon in the heat of summer. Lucius was behind a great, solid, black desk and sitting in an extravagant leather chair accented with stately brass buttons. Severus took the empty seat on the other side of the desk, and Lucius poured out two glasses of Superior Red, a wine from one of the Malfoy estates. For many long moments, they sat in silence, neither ready to give up the game. Who would play his hand first?

“This is a vintage from my grandfather’s time,” Lucius said appreciatively, holding his glass up so the deep red wine was caught in the light coming through the study windows. After examining the color, the Lord swirled the wine then took a sniff before finally tasting. Apparently, it was palatable. As if the Malfoys would settle for anything less than exquisite.  

“I apologize for making you come all this way, Severus. Some things just shouldn’t be put to parchment.”

“A wise choice, even in times of relative peace such as these.”

“So you know what it is I wish to discuss?” Lucius’ careful mask seemed to be marred only by a raised brow, but that was yet another mask. Few ever saw beyond the many guises of a Malfoy.

“I suspected.” The two sat in silence again for a time, brooding and sipping the fine red wine. It was again Lucius that broke the silence.

“There have been whispers, Severus. They have been swirling for a while now, like a fine morning mist, but only recently have they come directly across my path.”

“Oh? And what do these whispers tell you?” Severus had a feeling he already knew.

“He is gathering his strength again. I’m sure you remember the debacle last year with the- what was it- the Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Yes. I never even suspected Quirrell, couldn’t tell he was a servant to the Dark Lord at all. I might have offered my services if I’d known.” Lies, of course. Snape had suspected Quirrell the entire time, although he was curious as to why his Mark never burned. Perhaps the Dark Lord had simply been too weak.

“It was a good move, using such a quivering and weak man to use as a host,” Lucius added. “I had no suspicions about him either, thought he was a bit touched in the head from his brief encounters with Dark creatures. Honestly, using a Muggle Studies professor to teach Defense…” The blond man trailed off with a smirk. “In any case, our Lord has designs on Hogwarts yet again.”

“May I inquire as to what these designs entail?”

“You may.” The smirk widened. Severus knew there was no use trying to get information from the man when he was in this sort of mood.

“I only have Slytherin house’s best interest in mind. Never let it be said I don’t protect my own.”

Lucius hummed noncommittally. “Speaking of students, how is our beloved Boy-Who-Lived doing?”

“Why would I know such a thing?” Severus asked, purposefully playing dumb.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because that old fool Dumbledore loves to keep you so close? I’m sure you have some idea of what the little brat is up to.”

“The boy was sent off to those muggle relatives of his, of course. Dumbledore wouldn’t risk putting the Boy-Who-Lived anywhere else. However, he’s not so gone yet that he’s let slip the location to me.” The biggest lie he’d told yet today. Albus had practically made him Potter’s keeper.

“Pah! Muggles!” Lucius spat. “Even that noxious little half-blood deserves better than that. I’ve tried, Severus, to persuade the Minister to put the boy in my care, but Dumbledore… well, it simply hasn’t been possible. Both Narcissa and I have tried, ever since the Dark Lord fell.”

“I can’t imagine Draco would be too happy about it if you somehow managed to get custody of the Potter brat now. They’ve built quite a schoolboy rivalry.”

“Draco still has much to learn about making ‘friends’. I’m afraid I must put his training in your hands, now. Narcissa and I were so happy to finally have a healthy son and heir that we appear to have spoiled him.”

Too true, unfortunately. Severus thought. The boy was attention-seeking and far too eager to gain approval of his betters. If Draco wanted to truly rule the Slytherins, he’d have to stop throwing his father’s name around and actually show the cunning and ambition the house was supposed to stand for.

Finally, Severus had to make his excuses to leave.

“Regrettably, I must be going. I have a large batch of Blood-Replenishing potions brewing at the moment.”

“Of course, Severus. I know how dreadfully busy you are, what with your Head of House duties and your obligations as Potions Master. If all goes to plan, you’ll see me at Hogwarts soon enough.”

A House-Elf escorted him back to the Floo Room and from there he Flooed back to Spinner’s End. The visit to Malfoy Manor had given him even more to think about. Clearly, Lucius had a plan of sorts in the works, but it was anyone’s guess as to what it entailed. Hedwig was still in his sitting room and gave him a hoot in greeting upon his arrival. After changing into his brewing robes, Severus took care of the potions that had been simmering for hours. They were nearly the right color now, and would soon need tending to.

When the potions were at last the right shade of red, Severus added the final ingredient; finely powdered Chrysocolla. With the introduction of the blue stone, the solution turned royal purple and after exactly 30 stirs anticlockwise, the potion was finished. The Potions Master expertly decanted and bottled the batch and then cleaned up. He had some thinking to do.

After all was put away, Severus went back up the stairs and boiled water for tea. While this brew was nowhere near the quality he’d tasted earlier that day, it was decidedly more comforting. The water was soon ready and he retreated to the sitting room with the tray floating sedately behind him.

While he’d gained some insight into what Lucius had been planning, Severus was frustrated with the lack of information regarding the Malfoy House-Elf that visited Potter. There was always the chance the brat had been lying, but he didn’t think that was the case. The little Gryffindor couldn’t be deceptive if his life depended on it. Speaking of Potter, there was some investigating left to do. In the confusion when the boy went ‘missing’, some rather undesirable possibilities came to light. Severus had a hypothesis, and he was determined to test it the following day. His mind made up, the prickly professor settled in for the night with a book and his pot of tea before retiring to bed.

The next morning, Severus meant to test his hypothesis as soon as possible. After tea and a brief look at the Prophet, he gathered up Hedwig and went to the Evans-now-Dursley house.

Discreetly, Severus cast a magic detection charm. As expected, there were the barest traces of Lily’s magic, and the subtle magic of the wards that protected Potter. As for Potter himself… His magic was there, but had nowhere near the amount of presence most wizards and witches had at that age. Had Potter ever done an impressive feat of magic? Severus had a habit of tuning out the other professors when they talked about Potter, so he didn’t know how well the brat did in his other classes. Nevertheless, the charm’s results only added weight to the growing unease that Severus felt. He left Hedwig to keep watch while he retreated to Spinner’s End.

At last, Severus couldn’t avoid the questions and problems rattling around in his head. It was time to think about the Potter situation, as unsavory as he found the task. Severus sat in his favorite armchair in front of the currently cold fireplace. There were many things to consider, so he might as well get comfortable. Was Harry Potter, the prophesied Savior of the Wizarding World, abused?  

Well, the fact that no one had even considered the possibility wasn’t hard to believe. Abusing magical children had dire consequences, and as such it was nearly unheard of in the Wizarding World. Purebloods were on the forefront of movements to abolish such behavior. For all of their holier-than-thou attitudes, Purebloods did care about children. In fact, children (and having them) were considered a sacred thing. It was when you took muggleborns and half-bloods into account that things got… unpleasant. Severus knew this firsthand, growing up with a Pureblood mother and a muggle father. Of course, the situation wasn’t unique to muggleborns. While Purebloods would scarcely strike a child either physically or magically, there was one area that was sorely neglected. After all, verbal abuse didn’t leave a lasting mark. At least, not visibly.

Minerva and Molly had been absolutely livid when they realized that Harry’s magic left only the barest traces on Privet Drive, and rightly so. One of the reasons the Wizarding World found child abuse so abhorrent was for the detrimental effect such experiences have on the child’s magical core. Young magical children who are abused either learn to wield their magic like a weapon or suppress it. Both were incredibly dangerous. Often, the children that suppress it do it because they think they deserve the abuse they receive. Additionally, they may become afraid of their own abilities. Such a phenomenon was particularly common in abused muggleborns. Consequently, their magic rarely intervenes and is kept shut away. While wild magic does occur, a strong will can reign it in.

Considering what he now knew since the fiasco with three Weasleys and a flying car, Severus suspected he knew why Potter was so magically nonexistent. It was just an idea, mind. There was only so much that he could speculate, and only so much he could do when the child in question never saw fit to tell an adult anything. Severus would reprimand the boy except for the fact that the pot would be calling the kettle black.

Was the great Harry Potter suppressing his magic unknowingly? If so, what the hell would any of the professors at Hogwarts be able to do about it? In all likelihood, the boy had no idea he was doing it. Nutritional supplements and potions would help, although getting Potter to take them would be… tricky. Unless he had no idea he was ingesting them at all. That was a thought. If he could convince the House Elves to lace Potter’s pumpkin juice at mealtimes, that would be a considerable help.

At long last, Severus came to a particular clue that he hadn’t been able to fully disregard no matter how many times he tried to push the memory away. The cupboard under the stairs and the words ‘Harrys Room’ had very serious implications. The red mark on Potter’s neck that could only have been a forming bruise came to mind. So far, it looked like there was possible neglect and some physical abuse.

Eventually, Severus had to concede that Potter might be mistreated. It was extremely likely that abuse had happened in the past. Hoping that the behavior had stopped as some point was giving too much credit to Petunia and her family. The only way he’d really know for sure is if Potter told him, and that was as unlikely as surviving the Killing Curse.

So, what was the next move going to be? Both Minerva and Molly had made protests to Dumbledore’s face and had gotten brushed off. No, the situation necessitated more delicate maneuvering. Proof would be needed, as well as subtle manipulation of the right people. Most of all, he needed the child to say the decisive words himself. Severus was under no illusions that the process would be quick. Indeed, he’d be lucky to achieve his goal in a year.

After some more deliberation, Severus pushed himself out of the chair and went upstairs to the heavy wood desk in his office. Parchment and ink were summoned, and a letter drafted. He would “suggest” to Dumbledore that Harry spend the last week of summer with the Weasleys. It was only a temporary measure, but at this juncture it was the best option he had. After all, the Weasleys favored the boy. Let him be their problem for a week.

Hedwig came back to the house that evening, and Severus was waiting for her with the letter and owl treats.

“Care to make a delivery?”

The owl bobbed her head then stuck out her leg, to which the letter was soon attached. After snapping up the treats offered, she took off on powerful wings to Dumbledore with the first of many steps to ensure the future well-being of the wizard she was so loyal to.